Chapter Text
Dean woke up with hazy vision and a pounding headache. The first thing he noticed was the IV strapped to his arm and the overly loud monitor beeping steadily beside him.
He rubbed at his eyes ignoring the burn as he tried to remember how he ended up in this hospital room.
“He’s awake, Doctor.”
The voice came from the other side of the room where two people were standing. One had a white coat and a stethoscope hanging from their neck and the other was in blue scrubs.
The doctor turned to look at Dean, to see that he had finally woken up from his unconscious state. Blue eyes met green and Dean immediately felt relief.
“Dean you’re awake,” Castiel sighed, the worried expression on his face beginning to fade.
Dean grunted and let his head fall back on the pillow. “Yeah, and I feel like shit.”
Cas stepped up to the bed, one brow cocked upwards. “Well just be glad you don’t have alcohol poisoning. Dean, what were you thinking?”
His friend looked genuinely concerned, and it caused Dean to feel the twist of guilt in his stomach. He’d been friends with Castiel for a little over a year now, partially working with him as an EMT. He was probably the best friend Dean’s ever had besides Sam, and he knew that putting himself in danger would cause Cas distress—something that Dean never wanted to do.
Not to mention he also happened to have a massive crush on him, something he’s been hiding since the day he met him. He’d hoped maybe they could be more than friends, but since Cas never made a move and Dean was still too scared to come on to guys—despite being openly bisexual—they ended up just forming a strong friendship.
“I know, I know, man. I just—fuck. How long have I been out?”
“They found you outside of Burr Oak Bar at 4:00 am and it’s now 6:00 pm on Tuesday, so a little over 12 hours.” Castiel replied, peering down at his watch. “What happened Dean?”
“What do you mean?” Dean asked seriously.
“I mean, why did you feel the need to drink your weight in alcohol on a Monday night?”
“I was just having some fun, Cas.”
Castiel scowled at him and Dean let out a harsh laugh.
“I don’t know what to tell you man, I went to go enjoy some me-time and I got a little carried away, I don’t really see why it’s such a big—“
“Carried away?” Castiel was practically shouting at this point. “Dean, your BAC was 0.32 percent! Something had to have gone seriously wrong for you to want to drink that much.”
The nurse who had been standing there this entire time shuffled awkwardly, looking between a paper in her hand and an angry Castiel.
Dean let out a small cough. “Would you give us a minute?”
After the nurse left in hurried relief, Dean sighed and looked at Cas.
“Okay, fine. If you really want to know, my dad and I got into a fight. After it was over I needed to cool off, so I went to the bar. I guess I just got lost in my anger and frustration, I didn’t realize I was drinking too much.”
This time it was Castiel’s turn to look guilty. He gazed down at the floor and then back at Dean with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
Dean turned his head away. “It’s whatever.”
Castiel didn’t take his eyes off Dean but he didn’t attempt to say anything else.
“Alright so can I go home now?”
Cas rubbed his face with his palm and moved away from the bed. “Well you seem fine. All of your vitals are good, but that was still a lot of alcohol to consume in such a short amount of time. Not to mention you hit your head pretty hard when you passed out.” Cas pulled up his information on a screen. “I’m not sure if I could approve you going home.”
Dean let up his hands in frustration, “Come on! Dude, you know how much I hate sleeping in hospitals. I mean look at me, I’m fine. You’re not the only medical professional here, I know when I’m good and when I’m not.”
“You didn’t know last night apparently.” Castiel didn’t look away from the screen but Dean stared daggers at him.
“Cas, please. I’m asking as a friend. I really need to go home. I have work tomorrow and—“
“No you don’t, I talked with Singer and we’ve cleared you for the next three days.”
Dean blinked dumbly at Cas. “Are you serious? You’re messing with my work now?”
“Dean, I’m making a decision about your safety and the safety of the people you work with. I would act no differently for any other patient.” Castiel was now looking straight at Dean, face stern and assertive.
“Okay fine I won’t go to work, but will you just let me go home and rest in my own bed, please?” Dean looked up at Cas with puppy dog eyes, trying desperately to mimic the ones his little brother could do so perfectly.
“You’re making it very difficult for me to do my job, Dean.”
“Please.”
Castiel sighed for what was probably the hundredth time since Dean had woken up. “Alright, this is what I’ll allow. You can go home, but only if someone is there with you to monitor you every three hours through the night.”
Dean crossed his arms. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t have anyone to do that for me. Sam is away at Stanford and I’m sure as hell not calling my Dad. Charlie is the only other person I can think of but she’s working right now.”
Castiel rubbed his chin thoughtfully for several moments.
“Alright then, you can come home with me.”
“What?”
“My shift finishes in three hours, you’ll come home with me after I get off. That way you don’t have to stay in the hospital, but someone can make sure you don’t have a concussion or any other issues throughout the night.”
Dean felt a strong sense of nervousness at the thought of just him and Cas being at his house. Sure, he had been a couple of times, but it was during the day and he never stayed for too long, opting to mostly spend time at Dean’s apartment or out in town. He certainly never slept over before, mostly likely to avoid this very situation.
The idea of sleeping near Cas had butterflies starting to form in his stomach. If he did have a concussion, who knew what kind of things he could say to Cas, especially if he was gonna come wake him up every three hours during the night.
“Uhm..”
“Or you could stay here, your choice.” Castiel said plainly.
Well, that was definitely not happening.
“I— uh. I mean—that sounds…fine. I guess.” Dean rubbed at the back of his head and the slightest bit of blush started to creep up his neck.
“It’s settled then.”
Notes:
I know the first chapter is really short, but the next one should be a lot longer!
I originally was going to write this as a one-shot, but it turned into a whole story, so that's how I'm writing it. However, because of my original plans for this fic, the first couple of chapters, including this one are kinda short. Again, I'm new to this so I'm still trying to figure out my style and everything, but hopefully, as the fic progresses, I'll get better!
Chapter 2
Summary:
- Dean’s POV
- Smut (but also not smut, you'll see)
- TW: mentions of child abuse & alcoholism
Notes:
Alright, as promised, here’s a longer chapter! It’s time for Dean to find a certain something… and it may not be what you think ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Cas–please.”
Dean writhed beautifully on the white sheets, sweat dripped from his brow and his thighs shook as Cas gripped them with his hand.
“Shhh, I know Dean. You’re doing so well–so good for me.” Cas purred into the side of Dean’s leg as he pumped two fingers into his green-eyed lover. “I love you like this. Open and waiting for me, just begging for more.”
Dean opened his eyes and looked down at where Cas was opening him up. Lust and awe burned in his blue eyes and it only sent Dean closer to the edge. “Please, fuck. Fuck. Cas I need–“
A broken gasp and moan came from Dean's wet lips as Cas wrenched his fingers and hit his prostate straight on.
“What do you need? Hm?” Cas quirked a vicious smile and licked the front of Dean’s dick lightly. “Let me hear you. Use your words, I know you can.”
“I–“, another desperate cry, “Please! Cas, I just–just need you.”
“Be specific.” Cas growled while pumping faster into Dean’s hole.
“Fuck!” Dean’s head thrashed in pleasure, “Fuck me, Cas! I need your cock in me, please! I need it so bad, I need you inside me.”
Tears were starting to form in Dean’s eyes, and he couldn’t stop the stream of pleas that came from his mouth, “I’ll be good. So good for you! Just take me please, use me, I need it!”
“Shh Dean, good job. Such a good boy, so beautiful and needy. I’ll give you what you want sweet boy.”
━
Dean startled awake. His forehead dripped with sweat as he let out short panting breaths. He was hard—achingly hard—as he sat upright in his bed.
Wait.
This wasn't his bed?
Shit. This was Cas’s bed.
Dean reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp, scouring the room for any sign of his friend.
He wasn’t there, of course he wasn’t. Once the two men had gotten back to Castiel’s house, Cas had insisted Dean take his bed and he would sleep on the couch in the living room. Dean had tried to protest, but still feeling miserably hungover, didn’t put up much of a fight.
The problem was that he didn’t expect to have a wet dream—a vivid wet dream—in his Cas’s bed. And even though it’s definitely not the first one Dean has had of his annoyingly attractive best friend, this was the worst possible time to be having one. What if Cas had come in?
Unsurprisingly, the thought made Dean even harder.
Was it because of sleeping in his friend’s bed? Was it the way Cas’s shirt had clung to his shoulders as he walked out of the room for the night?
Who knows.
At this point, Dean just wanted to get out of his precum-drenched boxers.
He decided to take a shower to rinse off his mess, and maybe some of the guilt too. He so badly wanted to finish but he knew it was wrong, especially while being in Cas’ freaking shower. So he stuck to the basic cleaning. Once he was done he left the bathroom and peered out the window. It wasn’t quite light outside, way too early to be up with a hangover—but it’s not like he was about to go to sleep after that little fiasco.
The clock said 6:07 am.
“Fucking great, Cas probably won’t be up for another 4 hours.”
Towel wrapped around his waist, Dean walked over to the dark oak dresser and opened the top drawer. They hadn’t stopped by Dean’s apartment on the way here so he didn’t have any boxers to change into and if Dean was gonna be forced to stay here, then he was damn well gonna borrow some clothes.
The first drawer was for Cas’s socks he guessed, so he opened the second one on the left. He found the boxers, but what he did not expect to find were a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and a large glass butt plug sitting among the black and white Calvin Kleins.
Heat and shame burned through his body as he slammed the drawer shut. He swallowed hard, trying not to think about Cas using those things, or Cas using those things on him. Was Cas into kinky sex? Dean never would have guessed.
Luckily he had grabbed some boxers before shutting the drawer so he quickly slipped them on and climbed back into bed. His head hurt like hell, way worse than last night, but he didn’t want to go back to sleep. He didn’t want to just sit there with his thoughts either, but he didn’t have much of a choice since Cas wasn’t awake yet.
So, he just laid there.
His hair was damp on the pillow, and it smelled like Cas. Hell—everything smelled like Cas. The shampoo, the sheets, the room. It was like torture after the wet dream, and now, of course, the sex toys he had stumbled on.
In order to distract himself, he decided to get on his phone and play Candy Crush—his guilty pleasure. It helped cure his boredom for about 10 minutes. Eventually, his ADHD got the best of him and he rolled out of bed to get something to drink.
Despite his efforts to think about anything else, his head still swam with images of his steamy dream as he walked towards the bedroom door. He was reaching for the doorknob when suddenly it started turning on its own.
The door creaked open slowly until it was a third of the way open and a tuft of black hair appeared through the crack in the door.
“Dean?” Cas half-whispered.
“Uh I’m right here,” Dean opened the door all the way, revealing a mildly disheveled Castiel. He had clearly just woken up a moment ago, judging from how gravely his voice was—well at least more than usual.
Cas stood up straight as he looked at Dean, “Oh.”
Dean smiled, “What’s up?”
“I was just—just checking on you,” Cas explained almost shyly.
“Well… I’m all good, no concussions here.”
“Why are you up?”
Dean felt the blood rush to his face and he looked away, only for his gaze to land on the very drawer containing the cuffs and plug.
“I–Woke up..”
“And why didn’t you go back to sleep? It’s 6 in the morning.”
Cas rubbed at his eyelids and began to yawn. He looked so different from the way Dean usually saw him—always put together, neat and tidy. Right now his hair looked like he had just been fucked six ways from Sunday.
Dean chuckled, “Aren’t you used to getting up early?”
“Not on my days off…” Cas admitted.
When Dean didn’t reply, Cas cleared his throat, “Well you appear fine, so if you don’t mind I think I might get a few more hours.”
"Oh, yeah, um, that’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine. Dean was still feeling the after-effects of his dream and now he was bored out of his mind, with the subject of his dream looking sexy as fuck sleeping right outside his door.
God, he needed to get out of there before he embarrassed himself.
“Is it, um—is it okay if I head home?”
Cas looked strangely disappointed by Dean’s suggestion.
“No.” Cas blurted quickly.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re still under my watch, and in case you do fall asleep again, I need to be there to check up on you.”
Dean barely remembered the few times Cas had already checked on him tonight. Most of them just consisted of Cas waking him up and asking his name, making sure he was still self aware and not at risk of a concussion.
However, now that there was a risk Cas could walk in hearing Dean moan his name…well let’s just say there was absolutely no way he was going back to sleep.
Still, he knew he couldn’t argue with Cas.
“Fine, whatever. But can we switch places? You take the bed and I take the couch? That way I can watch TV.”
Cas rolled his eyes but grumpily pushed past Dean into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.
━
Watching TV lasted a grand total of 15 minutes before Dean got bored again. How was he supposed to just sit still for another 3 hours?
Dean stood up and paced the house trying to find something to cure his boredom—all the while his skin itched and his dick still buzzed with subtle arousal.
Cas’s house was small but still extremely nice, Dean could tell this was a rich neighborhood, even if Cas’ place was on the “cheaper” side. Every time Dean saw it he felt a little embarrassed at the difference between his place and Cas’s. His best friend definitely earned a higher salary than Dean, so he knew it wasn’t his fault for having to opt for a smaller apartment in a sketchy neighborhood, but for some reason, he still felt undeserving of Cas’s friendship because of it, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
Dean walked over to the table that sat near the foyer, he picked up a few odd things to investigate, but they were all useless trinkets. After further examination of the living room and dinning room, he concluded that Cas was probably a serial killer, due to the lack of interesting decor and plain walls—Dean's place may be small but at least he knew how to make it a little homey, jesus.
He very quickly became bored with the rooms he had searched through, and instead turned his attention towards the side of the house he hadn't explored yet. He walked down the hall on the right side of the living room, opposite from where Cas’s bedroom was. It only had two rooms, one was the guest bathroom—which Dean had been in before—and the other Dean figured must be the guest bedroom. He tried the door but it wouldn’t open.
He was about to give up and walk away when suddenly it struck him—if this was a guest bedroom, why wasn’t one of them sleeping in there instead of on the couch?
Curiosity flooded Dean, and the need to know what was on the other side of the door became too strong. I mean, it’s probably just an office or something, Dean thought. But if it’s just an office why was it locked?
Dean reached up and glided his fingers over the top of the doorframe. He smiled cheekily when his hand came in contact with the cold metal. Despite his incredible intelligence, Cas was terribly predictable.
Giddy to finally solve this mystery, Dean hurried to unlock the door and opened it slowly.
Oh. My. God.
Dean's jaw fell to the floor and then quickly snapped shut when the door came in contact with the wall.
The room was painted black and red. It had a bed in the middle with silky black sheets and bed posts standing high at all four corners. The walls had shelves and racks holding multiple sex toys, whips, paddles, canes, and other devious devices. There was a bench in the middle that Dean recognized—from porn—as a spanking bench.
On one side of the bed there was a cart and a mini-fridge beside it—What, are you snacking while
you’re punishing someone? Dean chuckled internally. The other side of the bed had a dark burgundy, slightly curved couch. It had built in cuffs on the bottom where—Dean guessed—someone’s arms could hang off the sides to be restrained.
A Saint Andrew’s cross stood on the left side of the room with restraints on either side as well as at the feet. A large chest resided at the end of the bed with a lock on it, Dean could only imagine what was inside.
If he wasn’t hard before, he sure as hell was now.
A small whimper escaped his lips, surprising even himself. How the fuck could this be real life? The Cas he knew was way too innocent for this. But then again, maybe he didn’t really know him.
The fuzzy cuffs and glass plug were child’s play compared to this, this made Dean blush furiously, and he wasn’t exactly the Virgin Mary. How could he not know about this? Why hadn’t Cas not told him he was into BDSM? I mean it’s not like the greatest conversation starter, but still.
Dean fought the urge to go inside and investigate further, but upon deciding that would be a terrible idea, he slowly closed the door and locked it. After he replaced the key on the doorframe he walked back to the couch and plopped down. Should he mention this to Cas?
No, it’s probably not a good idea to tell your best friend you just completely invaded their privacy. And also, why would he even bring it up anyway? It’s not like Dean was into BDSM.
His throbbing hard-on said otherwise.
But even if he was interested, he never acted on it. Growing up with a father that hated the mere idea of Dean being queer and constantly berated him for some of his more “feminine” inclinations, definitely did not allow Dean to feel comfortable exploring his kinkier side.
Besides, he liked vanilla sex well enough, he never felt like something was missing…
Until now.
Images of Cas using those things on him, of holding him down on the bed and strapping restraints on his wrists and ankles, pushing a vibrator into him and making him go blind with pleasure.
He thought about the cross and about the whips. He always loved a little pain with his pleasure, and the idea of Cas guiding him onto the spanking bench, securing him to it, and whipping his ass raw, made his dick spurt out a bit of precum.
But the thing that got him going most, was simply the act of submitting to Cas.
If he did ever consider getting into BDSM, he knew he wouldn’t be a Dom, which was part of the reason he was hesitant to try it—something he should probably unpack in therapy.
He always knew he liked a more commanding sexual partner. After years of being the one in control, in charge, and the one always taking care of everyone else—the idea of letting go and being the one taken care of, it was more than appealing. Sure it was scary, and the voice of his father always poked through his mind, telling him how unmanly it was, and how much of a disappointing son he was for wanting such things, but it was something he secretly, desperately wanted to try nonetheless.
And to try it with Cas? Well, that would just be the colossal cherry on top.
Dean had met a few professional Doms before, many of whom took great interest in him, although he never took up any offers. Several of them also made the idea of scening much less appealing, but not Cas.
He made the idea of scening absolutely exhilarating. Unlike the other egotistical Doms who thought that they were owed submission, Cas had a calm sense of authority and confidence that would make any sub in their right mind willingly fall to their knees.
He hadn’t seen it before, but he could sure as fuck see it now. Cas was someone who would not only be respectful and responsible, but someone who could provide pleasure with a firm hand and give a feeling of safety and comfort with the other.
Hell, if he would scene with anybody it would be Cas. Maybe that’s something he could offer? Ask him if he wanted to introduce Dean to the world of BDSM…
It would be a good way to take his mind off of the current shit he was dealing with, and it was definitely healthier than his other coping mechanisms. Maybe it’s something Cas would be interested in.
No, he shouldn’t, it would definitely ruin the friendship, right?
━
To his surprise, almost two hours had passed while he was having his internal debate. He looked at the clock on the wall. Dean figured 8 am was close enough to 10 am so he went to knock on Cas’ door.
“Hey! It’s 8 am dude, are you awake?”
Silence was the only response.
“What’s someone gotta do to get a decent breakfast around here?” Dean tried not to think of all the things he could actually do for Cas...
Stop being such a horndog, jesus.
A few seconds, and a few stumbles later, Cas showed up at the door looking even more unkempt than he had before.
“I thought I told you I was going to sleep in.”
His gravely morning voice sent shivers down Dean's spine. His hair was still in disarray but it looked so fluffy and grabbable and his eyes were much more awake and alert, showing off the brilliant blue that encompassed his pupils. Damnit he was fine as hell–it’s a miracle Dean hadn’t done anything rash yet, like kiss him on his perfect, chapped lips.
Once he stopped staring at Cas like a fucking pervert, Dean finally responded, “Well I’m bored and hungry.”
Cas gave a completely blank expression in return.
“Is this how you treat all your house guests?”
“I don’t get many guests.”
That room would suggest otherwise, Dean didn’t say.
“Besides, I’m sure you’re fully capable of making yourself breakfast.”
Typically, Cas would be jumping at the chance to make Dean food. He always had this weird thing about taking care of him in the most mundane of ways, maybe it was the doctor in him.
But morning Cas? Well he was a completely different person.
Dean gave an exasperated sigh, “I mean yeah, but you make killer pancakes, man. I can’t beat those.”
“You’re not going to manipulate me into making breakfast for you, Dean.”
“Please” Dean drew out the word like a child begging a parent.
Finally, Cas relented, and after throwing on some more clothes he followed Dean into the kitchen.
━
While Dean sat at the kitchen counter chewing on his last bite of pancake, Cas began cleaning the dishes.
“Gimme a sec and I can help you with those.”
“Oh” Cas stared at Dean over his shoulder, “Um…thank you but I got it, you need to rest anyway.”
“Cas I’m not a fucking invalid, I can dry a damn dish” Dean exclaimed with his mouth full. After setting his dish on the counter to Cas’s left, he grabbed a towel and walked to the other side, picking up the first clean, wet dish.
“Alright then,” Cas replied flatly.
The silence was heavy between them as they both set to work, it was probably more noticeable to Dean considering the things running through his mind. Typically the silence between him and Cas was comfortable, familiar. It was the kind of silence that was welcome when it was needed to be, when Dean and Cas didn’t have anything to say but still wanted to exist close to each other.
But today, the silence was choking Dean.
This would be a good time to bring something up. Cas and him were alone, Dean still had the excuse of a hangover and possible—although unlikely—concussion, so worse comes to worse he could just blame it on not being in the right state of mind.
“So uh…”
Dean trailed off without finishing his thought. How does he even begin to ask Cas this?
Castiel turned his head, hands still scrubbing the dirty pan, “Yes?”
“I have something I want to ask you.”
He rinsed the dish and handed it to Dean, “Okay...”
“And you can’t get mad—“ Dean subconsciously took the pan and started to dry it, “well one thing you can get mad at, but the other thing…if you don’t like it I’ll never bring it up again, I swear, and we’ll never talk about it.”
Cas didn’t look at Dean this time, he set the last dish on the drying rack and unplugged the water in the sink. After a few moments of silence, while Cas finished drying his hands, he finally turned to Dean with a strange look on his face.
It almost looked like he knew what Dean was going to say…
“Okay, Dean.”
The floor was his, but the words weren’t coming out like he wanted…
“I um.. I—well earlier I was bored. I did something—well I know I shouldn’t have but… I just wanted to explore a bit, and then I found... I know it was wrong of me, I was just so curious and it got the best of me–”
“Dean.”
He looked up at his best friend, whose face was surprisingly calm for the situation at hand.
“I’m disappointed that you attempted to access a room that you had no permission to access, but I’m not mad that you found it.”
So he did know.
“You’re..not?”
“No. If anything I’m relieved you finally know. I was going to mention it but it’s not exactly the greatest conversation starter, if you know what I mean.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah I do.”
After a few beats of silence, Dean finally took the plunge.
“I—Would you show me?”
He blurted the question out like it was the most normal thing in the world, and surprisingly enough, Cas reacted as if it was.
“I mean sure if you’d like, although everything is pretty self-explanatory, and you’ve already seen most of it at first glance–“
“No! Um.. that’s–that’s not what I meant...”
Cas squinted and then suddenly his eyes went wide. It was just for a moment before he recomposed himself and stepped closer into Dean’s space.
“What do you mean?”
A glowing red crept slowly up Dean’s neck and onto his cheeks. This was too overwhelming. Too humiliating. He can’t ask Cas for this, not only will he ruin the friendship, but he could ruin Cas’s opinion of him. I mean sure it’s one thing to be a manly Dominant telling people what to do and how to behave, but it was an entirely different thing to willingly submit to another man. To enjoy being guided, led, dominated.
But then again, Cas was gay. He only had male subs so.. would he really think poorly of Dean for being one? Probably not, but Dean still doesn’t want to take that chance.
Not to mention this was all happening way too fast. Hell, he had passed out incredibly drunk, been driven to his best friend's house for a sleepover, had a sex dream of said best friend, and then stumbled upon a drawer of sex toys and a room with even more sex toys, all within 48 hours. This felt like a fever dream.
He needed to go home, recuperate, and sort through all of these new feelings. Maybe once he could clear his head he’d realize all of this was a bad idea anyway and he wouldn't have to go and ruin the one good thing in his life outside of Sam.
“Um, never mind. Forget about it.”
Dean gave a half smile and shrug, trying his best to not make a big deal out of his response. Once he set the last dish in the cabinet he turned back to Cas.
His face was…. difficult to read. On one hand, he looked a little disappointed, pissed even. But on the other hand, he seemed unsurprised by Dean’s response, as if he knew Dean was going to chicken out.
Thinking that would be the end of it, Dean began to make his retreat, but before he could take a full step Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Dean, if you ever need to ask me anything, or for anything, please do not hesitate. I understand you need to go home and rest and recover, but anytime after that, I want you to know that you can freely converse with me about whatever you need to. Trust me, nothing much phases me.”
Dean chuckled at that last comment but nodded his head.
“Okay Cas, thanks.”
“Also, it’s up to you, but I was going to offer a movie day. Here, if you want. That way you can continue to recover and relax, and I’ll have something to do and someone to hang out with on my day off.”
Dean chewed on his bottom lip. That did sound like fun... it was basically the one thing Cas could say to get him to stay, cheeky mother fucker.
“Uh yeah, that sounds like fun. I um, I probably need to head home about 2 or 3 though.”
“I understand.”
“And also, I get to pick the movies.”
“Of course, Dean.”
Wow, Cas didn’t even fight him on that, he must really want Dean to stay. For some reason that made Dean blush even more so than when he was talking about less-than-holy things.
“Alrighty then, Star Wars it is.” Dean grinned brightly.
━
“Dude, wake up! You’re missing the best part!”
Cas opened his eyes quickly and raised his head from where it was leaning on the back of the couch. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head.
“It’s not my fault you woke me up two hours early.” He groaned.
They had made it to the part where Darth Vader told Luke he was his father, Dean’s favorite part of course.
“Still, have a little decorum. This scene is legendary.” Dean folded his arms and sat back, eyebrows knotted together and the corners of his mouth downturned in a slight frown.
Cas turned his head and leaned towards Dean, “I’m sorry.” There was a smile in his voice.
When Dean didn’t react Cas got up to retrieve something from the kitchen. Dean glanced at Cas as he got up but refused to investigate further, set on keeping his irritated attitude.
That was until Cas came back with two chocolate bars and a bag of Skinny Pop, Dean’s favorite snacks. Castiel handed Dean a chocolate bar and set the opened bag of popcorn on the table in front of them.
“Am I forgiven now?”
Dean was tempted to stay grumpy, but he lost the energy to stay mad once he looked at the chocolate. “Yeah, I guess.”
Dean greedily opened the chocolate bar and started snacking. He moaned as the rich, sugary sweetness began to melt on his tongue.
Cas stopped mid-bite to look in Dean’s direction. Once he realized the sound that had just come out of his mouth he tried to cover it with a small cough.
“Alright watch the damn movie now.”
A small chuckle, “Okay, Dean.”
They settled back in, munching softly on their snacks as the movie resumed. Dean loved movie days, not only did he get to educate Cas on all-things pop culture—I mean really, the dude didn’t even know who Indiana Jones was!—but he also got to use it as an excuse to be close to Cas.
They were so close, in fact, that Dean could feel the warmth radiating off of Cas’s thick thigh. He wanted desperately to put an arm behind him on the back of the couch, but he figured that would be way too obvious. That did mean, however, that he got to enjoy the slight touch of their upper arms, which brushed against each other even more whenever one of them reached for the popcorn.
He felt a bit guilty for enjoying the contact, but with all the shit Dean faced in life, he figured he should be allowed to enjoy this one thing.
Once the last movie had ended, Dean was the one who had started to doze off. Cas turned the TV off and began shaking Dean softly.
“Dean?”
The younger man was now lying away from Cas, on his side facing the TV. After Cas’s first attempt to wake him up, he groaned a bit but didn’t react much, wanting to stay in his warm and content state a little longer. Apparently this concerned Cas so he began shaking him a bit harder.
“Dean wake up, honey.”
Dean opened his eyes and turned over on his back, groaning tiredly as he rubbed at his eyes.
Did Cas just call him honey? Weird.
“Sit up.”
Without another question, Dean sat up slowly and looked at Cas, eyes half-lidded with sleep and shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
“Look at me.”
Dean turned his chin upwards and opened his eyes wider. Cas put a hand on his cheek, pulling on it to expose his eye. After he checked to make sure everything was okay he pulled his hand away, accidentally caressing Dean’s face as he did so.
Dean shuddered.
“Well, it’s almost 3 pm. I know you said you needed to head out soon.”
Dean looked down at his watch. Damn, time passed quickly.
“Uh yeah, um I guess so.” He stood up and stretched his whole body, revealing a sliver of skin around his hips which made Dean shiver as it was exposed to the cool air.
“I should probably call Sam too.” He mumbled to himself.
Cas looked down at his lap and began messing with the string on his sweatpants.
“Dean.. he um, he knows—I mean he knows about what happened yesterday, I told him everything.”
This made Dean prickle a bit. He didn’t like Sam knowing about his breakdowns, especially if he wasn't the one telling him and he couldn't downplay them.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“Sam called me first, Dean.” Cas’s expression immediately became defensive, “What was I supposed to do, lie?”
“Wait, why would he call you?”
“He tried calling you, but obviously you couldn’t answer while you were passed out on a hospital bed.”
Dean felt a small pinch of shame burn inside his chest.
“He said John had called him, and he sounded worried about you. He couldn’t get many details out of him but Sam wanted to check on you just to make sure you were alright.”
Worried? Pfft, fucking lie. John just felt guilty. Like he always had every time he had laid hands on Dean or verbally abused him. He’d drink and drink and then come crawling back trying to apologize. When Dean was younger he would comfort his father, tell him it was okay, he could take it. But now? No, Dean was done codling him.
Well, that’s what he liked to tell himself at least.
“Oh.” Dean looked at the floor, “What did Sam say?”
“He was relieved to hear you were in my care, and he wanted you to call when you were able.”
Dean shook his head and let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, well I'm definitely gonna be putting that off now.”
He began walking away but Cas stood up and grabbed the hem of his shirt. Dean turned around quickly.
“What?” He spat a little more harshly than he had intended.
“You need to talk to Sam. Or someone. You can’t just brush off what happened.”
“Uh, yeah I can.” He stepped back so that Cas would let go of his shirt.
“And I don’t really think it’s any of your business anyway, Cas.”
Cas looked hurt by that remark, “You’re right. But you’re my best friend Dean and I care about your well-being, physical as well as emotional.”
“Well thanks, Cas, but you’re not my fucking therapist. I’ll deal with Sam later, I’ll deal with Dad later, I just need a damn second to think about everything.”
With that, he walked briskly into Cas’s bedroom and shut the door.
Notes:
If you’re disappointed that Dean chickened out of the question, don’t worry, he’ll get there very soon!
I should be able to update this pretty frequently (I'm hoping every Sunday), it just might slow down a bit after a few chapters since I’m still navigating where I want to take the story.
Also, it's my birthday today! Yay!
Chapter 3
Summary:
- Dean’s POV
- TW: mentions of alcoholism, child prostitution, child neglect/abuse, homophobia (let me know if you think I missed any!)
Notes:
Happy St. Patrick’s day to all who celebrate! I know this chapter is kinda short, but the next one is much longer and hopefully will be posted sooner than next Sunday! Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After Dean made it back to his apartment that evening, he felt the guilt start to settle inside him. He shouldn’t have yelled at Cas, he knew his friend was just looking out for him, like he always did.
It’s just that Dean wasn’t used to people caring for him that much. Sam of course loved and cared for him more than anyone probably, but he was still the little brother, and Dean always made sure to put his problems first and do his best to hide his own. With Cas, Dean could never hide anything.
Well, except for maybe one thing.
And that’s why Dean was constantly living in torment. Not only was he best friends with the most compassionate and caring person he had ever met, but he was also the one person Dean could never be with. He knew Cas didn’t feel that way about him, but whenever Cas treated him with such love and kindness, it only made Dean want him more. The one thing he wanted more than anything was something he could never have.
But doesn’t that just sum up Dean’s life.
Since he had the next two days to do nothing, he figured he could at least take time to make it up to Cas. He sat at his little two-seater dining room table and pulled out his phone.
<<< Dean: hey cas
<<< Dean: i just wanted to say im really sorry about what i said
<<< Dean: and did..
<<< Dean: would you be willing to let me make it up to you on friday?
Dean put his phone down immediately, too anxious to see what Cas’s reply would be.
He knew it wouldn’t be bad. Hell, he had done and said a lot worse to Cas in the past year and Cas had always forgiven him—he was far more gracious than Dean deserved. Still, the anxiety that this might be the last straw, the final fuck up of Dean’s that was enough to drive Cas away, was something Dean couldn’t stand to think about.
He couldn’t lose Cas. Living in this town without Sam, and much too close to his father for comfort, would be a living hell without Castiel. Sure, he had Charlie, his high school best friend, but they had grown apart since she had gotten her new job working for some fancy tech company. She didn’t have a lot of free time, and the little time she did have was spent with her girlfriend Dorothy—not that Dean blamed her at all, he was ecstatic that his friend was building the life for herself that she wanted. And at least they made sure to hang out once or twice a month. Dean always looked forward to those days.
He also had his coworker Benny. He was a great partner to work alongside—smart, quick on his feet, and just a great EMT all around. Despite his intimidating—and rather hot—exterior, Benny was really just a big softie. When Dean had first met him he thought maybe they could be something more than friends, but after realizing how awkward that would make their work, not to mention the lack of romantic compatibility, he decided they were much better off as friends.
However, that didn’t stop Dean from hooking up with him once or twice. The first time it happened he thought it would surely make work awkward, but Benny was surprisingly chill about the whole thing. This came as a great relief to Dean considering Benny was one of the only guys who was able to check off multiple boxes on his list of qualities he desired in a male sexual partner. Dean still hooked up with women, but men were more difficult because they often saw him as the ultimate hot and dominant top. Dean could definitely top, but dominating? Yeah, not so much. Not to mention, he liked bottoming. He didn't get to do it as much as he would like, and when all he managed to pull were twinks—well, obviously he wasn't satiating that urge very often.
Benny was one of the few guys who was as muscular as Dean, perhaps even more so, and was attracted to him despite their similarities. When Dean shyly suggested Benny top, his blue-eyed Cajun friend readily agreed. All-in-all, Dean was greatly relieved he could continue being friends with him while also occasionally letting off some steam.
Now if only he could do that with Cas…
I mean, he didn’t want the exact same thing, the “no-strings-attached,” strictly platonic. But if that’s all he could have… maybe he should just go for it? He knew he would get attached though, that was the problem. Maybe Cas could see it as just a FWB kinda thing, but Dean knew he would just be drawn in deeper. And if it came down to it, he would have to tell Cas how he felt—if he didn’t already catch on. If Cas were to find out, he wouldn’t be mean, but Dean knew he would slowly start to push him away. Who wants to be best friends with someone who’s practically in love with you, while you have no feelings for them?
The only person that he really had who was always there for him—and lived near him—was Castiel. To push him away, either by being a dick, or by revealing his true feelings to him, was simply unacceptable to Dean.
Finally, after a long while of being lost in thought, his phone buzzed loudly on the table. Dean quickly reached to pick it up.
>>> Cas: What did you have in mind?
Dean breathed a sigh of relief.
<<< Dean: well i know how much you love nature and shit
<<< Dean: thought maybe we could do a picnic and maybe like a walk in the park or something
Dean felt like he was asking someone on a date.
If only.
>>> Cas: I’d like that.
He thought for a while about what to say. He just needed to make sure they were still okay…
<<< Dean: soo
<<< Dean: you forgive me?
Cas took a few minutes to respond.
>>> Cas: We’ll see.
Dean knew Cas was probably smiling behind his phone, he wouldn’t have answered if he hadn’t already forgiven him.
<<< Dean: 12:30 on friday sound good?
>>> Cas: Yes, Dean. See you then. :)
━
Dean had all of Thursday off and not much to do, so he decided to call Sam. He’d been avoiding it all morning, but he knew eventually his annoying little brother would begin to call him until he picked up. He was relentless.
It’s not that Dean didn’t want to talk to Sam, it was just that he knew exactly what Sam would say, and he knew that he wouldn’t listen to a word of it. Dean struggled to take Sam’s advice, especially when it came to their Dad or any life problems in general. He was the one who grew up giving the advice and telling Sam what to do, so it was a hard pill to swallow when the younger brother you raised, started out-doing you in emotional maturity and mental health, or whatever it’s called.
And when it came to their Dad, well let’s just say their methods of handling him were significantly different. Sam was so strong when it came to John. He took no shit from him, deciding to leave him in the dust without a second thought when he finally got the chance to go to his dream school. Subsequently also leaving Dean… But Dean wasn’t angry, he knew it was something he needed to do for himself and he couldn’t be selfish with him.
The consequence, however, was that it left him by himself to deal with Dad. He didn’t live with him anymore, thank god, but he still had to see him at least once a week. Years and years of excessive drinking had done irreversible damage to John, in more ways than one. The most recent ailment he was facing was Cardiovascular Disease, and probably Liver Disease. Despite the hurt he had inflicted on Dean and Sam—particularly Dean—he couldn’t let his Dad face sickness on his own. No matter how much he tried to get himself not to care, to justify why he should just shut John out of his life completely, the truth was that he was scared to lose his Dad.
There were too many good memories, too many moments where Dean felt like the three of them were truly a family—maybe there weren’t as many as Dean thought, but there was enough. Sam couldn’t have cared less about the few good times they shared, he knew they didn’t justify the way John had treated them—dragging them across the country, blinded by the grief of losing his wife so early in life, all the while not even considering the grief Dean might have experienced from losing his Mom at the age of four, or Sam not getting to grow up with a mother at all.
The only two things John was good at were drinking and picking up odd jobs, neither of which brought much money to the table. Dean learned quickly that he was going to be the one providing for Sam, providing for them both. Even if it meant he had to get on his knees to appease the wrath of an angry motel owner, or indulge the fantasies of someone with a hundred-dollar bill in a dark alley behind a bar. Those were his lowest moments, but he knew he did what he had to do, for Sam. His little brother never knew though, of course not, nobody did.
So Dean could suck it up and visit his Dad once a week, he had to, if only just for himself. John was usually quiet and sluggish when Dean visited, but at least he was sober—which was more than Dean could say for himself. Typically the visits included Dean dropping off some groceries and checking to make sure John was taking his medications. Their conversations were short and not family-like at all—besides the occasional inquiry of Dean’s dating status, which Dean successfully managed to avoid each time.
This past visit was when it all went south. On his routine grocery drop-off, Dean had been sorting through John’s pantry. That’s when he found it. Behind a bag of coffee grounds there was a large bottle of whiskey. The minute he discovered it he was furious. He had worked so hard to get his Dad sober, and now he was gonna throw it all away…
Dean stormed into the living room. “What fuck is this?” He shouted so loud his father had actually shaken awake from where he was dozing on the couch. “How long has this been in there?”
John rubbed his eyes and coughed sickly. Once he realized what Dean was holding he immediately became defensive. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Then what the fuck is it?” Dean fought back tears of frustration, “Because from where I stand, you’ve fucking relapsed and you haven’t told me!”
“I didn’t fucking relapse,” He spat, “Now would you stop yelling for christ’s sake.”
Dean took a deep breath and tried to keep his composure—Sam would’ve kept yelling, but Dean could never be Sam.
“Why do you have a bottle of whiskey in your pantry, Dad?”
John looked away from Dean and sighed in annoyance, “It was a gift, from an old army pal.”
Dean didn’t look convinced.
“He stopped by the other day. I hadn’t told him I was sober, so he poured himself a glass and just left it on the counter.”
“So why didn’t you throw it away?”
“I don’t know.”
It was Dean’s turn to look away. He let out a harsh laugh, his hands rubbing over his face and through his hair.
“And you expect me to believe you didn’t drink any at all?”
“Yes,” John said as if he didn’t really care whether his son believed him or not.
“What the fuck is you’re problem?” He was shouting again, “I mean, don’t you want to get better?”
When his Dad didn’t respond, Dean’s rage went from a simmer to a full boil.
“You know what, maybe I should just quit trying.” He was practically screaming, “I mean it’s not like you give a shit about yourself anyway! After everything—Everything! I’ve come every damn week to help you, and you just couldn't stop from scratching that itch, huh?”
John still kept his gaze on the floor, looking like a petulant teenager who was waiting for their parent to stop lecturing them.
“If you don’t want to do it for yourself, why not for me?” Despite his efforts to the contrary, the first tear began to fall, “Sam left, Dad, but I stayed. I never gave up on you! I’ve spent so much damn money helping you, covering your medical bills, buying your groceries–”
“I never asked for your damn charity!” John yelled. “And I never asked for you to stay either!”
“Well too fucking bad.” Dean tried to keep his voice steady, but still, it shook, “I stayed, I sacrificed so much for you—helped you get better. You owe it to me to try.”
“I don’t owe you shit.”
Dean was exhausted. He should just stop here, but the glimmer of hope that maybe—just maybe, his Dad would see him, was just strong enough.
“Please, Dad.”
Silence hung heavy between them, and Dean thought maybe that was the end of it. His Dad was just done arguing, and they would part ways until next week when all of this would just recycle into another bad argument.
But John just had to twist the knife deeper.
“I wish Sam had stayed and you had gone.”
It didn’t even sound like he was talking to Dean, he was just saying his thoughts out loud.
“Maybe I’d want to get better for a son like Sam. With a proper job lined up after school, a girlfriend, and probably soon-to-be wife, he’s twice the man you’ll ever be—A fucking nurse who sleeps with men? Who wants a fucking son like that.”
Dean felt ringing in his ears. His Dad had shouted his fair share of slurs before and had never backed down from saying his opinion, no matter how offensive.
But this…
This was a new low.
Dean wanted to be strong, he wanted to defend himself, and prove to John that he was more than that. He was just as much of a man as Sam. But of course, the only thing he could do was stand there like a scolded child, tears freely flowing, solidifying what John had said.
He was just weak and pathetic. He couldn’t defend himself against something he halfway believed. He always knew Sam was gonna be better than him. John was right, Sam was going to be a married and well—respected lawyer within just a few years.
Dean was going to be an EMT living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment with practically no friends, except for the one he was desperately, pathetically in love with.
Who wants a son like that?
Without another word, Dean picked up his wallet and keys from the coffee table and rubbed his sleeve jacket over his tear-stained cheeks. He looked down at his Dad once more before giving up and walking out.
When he had driven to the bar that night his only goal was to try and forget. He succeeded, but not without getting dangerously drunk and blacking out on the sidewalk outside the bar. He knew it was stupid of him, he was handling his feelings the same exact way John did, he was no better than him.
That’s why he was scared to talk to Sam. He was scared to tell him way badly he had messed up, how badly both him and Dad had messed up. But he knew that Sam wouldn’t stop pestering him until he knew what had happened.
He took his phone out of his pocket, elbows resting on his knees from where he was sitting on his raggedy arm chair. He pressed Sam’s number.
“Dean??”
Sam sounded surprised and relieved at the same time.
“Uh yeah, hey…”
“Are you okay? Cas said you passed out–Dean what the fuck happened?”
His cheeks were already hot with shame, “I um, had a fight with Dad.”
There was silence from the other end, but Dean could practically hear Sam’s anger start to build.
“It was bad Sammy…He uh, I think he started drinking again.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sam’s voice was much louder now.
“No. I found a bottle of whiskey hidden in his pantry. When I confronted him about it he gave me some bullshit story about it being an old army pal’s. When I called him out on it, he—he uh…”
“What did he do, Dean?”
“He just got really mad and defensive like usual. He said somethings that were—were probably true,” He laughed bitterly, “and I just left.”
Again, silence.
“I don’t even know why you still try with him, Dean.”
“You know why.”
“Yeah and I think it’s a bullshit reason.” He sounded like was trying not to yell, “You don’t owe him anything, Dean! Neither of us do!”
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know, Sam. I just–I–I can’t help it.”
Sam sighed. “I know you can’t. But for the sake of your own health, you need to put some distance between him and you.”
“How? I can’t afford to move and I’m practically the only one keeping him alive at this point.”
“So?”
“So I can’t let him die, Sam.” Dean let out a sigh of frustration.
“Just…take care of yourself too. Please.”
“Yeah Sammy, I will,” Dean lied, “Now you get back to work, you only got two months left till graduation after all.”
Sam let out a cheerful laugh, “Yeah, yeah.”
Dean smiled to himself, he was so proud of his brother.
“You’re still coming, right?”
“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Dean confirmed.
Sam didn’t reply at first, Dean already knew what he was going to ask, “Are you bringing Dad?”
“I’m sorry Sam, but he’s pretty set on going.”
Sam sighed, “Fine. What about Cas?”
Dean blushed at the sound of his friend’s name, “Oh…um…I haven’t asked him yet. Do you want him to come?”
“Uh, Yeah!”
“Okay, awesome. I’ll uh, I’ll ask him then.”
“Sounds good.”
“Alright, well I’ll see ya later, Bitch.”
Sam snorted, “Bye, Jerk.”
━
Dean had just gotten out of the shower when his phone notified him of Cas’s text.
>>> Cas: Should I meet you there, or are we riding together?
Dean smiled at his phone.
<<< Dean: i’ll pick u up. 12:30 still good?
>>> Cas: Yes, sounds good.
He loved picking Cas up whenever they hung out. He knew he was being delusional, but it was almost like they were going on a date, and he wanted to enjoy the delusion for as long as he could.
About 20 minutes later, after grabbing his keys and phone, Dean took one last look in the mirror. He was dressed in dark grey jeans—that had faded around the seams—and a red henley. He tried to put some gel in his hair, but it really wasn’t long enough to do anything with it.
He attempted growing it out a few times but his Dad, of course, would always tell Dean he needed a hair cut, so eventually he stopped trying.
Dean stared blankly at his reflection. He knew he was attractive, I mean, he had women—and men—hitting on him constantly. But there was still something that made him feel icky. Like he was just a plastic doll people could ogle at but not care a bit about his personality. Not that they would like that either…
He spritzed a bit of cologne on his neck, grabbed his jacket, and left.
━
Dean stood outside of Cas’s house knocking on his door.
“You ready?” He half shouted.
“Yes! Just one moment.” Came Cas’s muffled reply.
Dean bounced on his heels, hands in his pocket. He waited patiently as Cas gathered the last of his things. Once the door finally opened, Dean had to fight the urge to stare.
Cas was dressed in a dark, navy blue button-down, the sleeves rolled up his elbows. He had on lightwash jeans, and he smelled like heaven. Dean cleared his throat, looking away from the mouth-watering image in front of him.
“You look nice.” Cas commented, almost shyly.
“Oh uh, yeah, thanks. You—You too man.”
Cas looked down at Dean’s hands, “So, where’s the picnic basket?”
Dean laughed, “The cooler is in the trunk.”
“And what food did you bring this time?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out when we get there,” a mischievous grin spread across Dean’s face.
Cas opened the side door of Dean’s Impala, “You’re insufferable.” He said as he shook his head and smiled.
“Yeah, well that’s why you love me.”
Dean put the keys in the ignition and gave Cas a crooked smile in return.
Cas let out a deep breath, “Unfortunately.”
The response, though made in jest, still made Dean blush. His hands were sweaty as he gripped the wheel.
━
For mid-April the weather was surprisingly nice. Cas loved going outside, a lot more than Dean did. But he didn’t mind it, as long as he was with Cas
They walked along the trail, turkey sandwiches and carrot sticks sitting in their stomachs. The wind was calm but it blew just enough to pick up the longer strands in front of Cas’s face, he tried to brush them away as they clung to his forehead.
“Did you talk to Sam?”
Dean could see this coming from a mile away. Cas just couldn’t let it go if he thought Dean was going through something, secretly he appreciated that.
“Yeah, yeah I did.”
“What did you tell him?”
“What I told you, that I had a fight with Dad and I went and got drunk.”
Cas didn’t respond. The crunch of the sticks and dirt under their shoes was all they heard for the next 5 minutes, that was until Cas broke the silence.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Dean opened his mouth to respond but Cas interjected, “If you don’t want to, I understand Dean. I’m not trying to pry or force you to talk about anything. I just want you to know I care and I’m here if you need to talk. I don’t want to—”
“Dude. It’s okay.” Dean replied lightheartedly, waving a hand in the air. “I mean, You’re probably one of the only people I feel like I can really open up to anyway, I should probably take advantage of that.”
“You’re not taking advantage of me by sharing your feelings, Dean.”
A beat of silence, “I know. But it still feels that way sometimes.”
They walked along the trail until they found a worn-down bench, vines and weeds crawling up the sides. Cas gestured for Dean to sit and he did. They sat quietly for a moment before Dean decided to speak.
“It’s just my Dad man…”
Cas looked at Dean empathetically, focused on listening to him as intently as possible.
“He’s killing himself and he doesn’t even care. No matter what I say or do he just doesn’t listen. And if I do decide to say something and catch him in his bullshit, he just starts hounding me until I give up and let him do his thing.”
Dean hesitated to go on, but he knew Cas wouldn’t judge him and wouldn’t tell anyone. He trusted him.
“He makes me feel like shit. I tell him that I care, and tells me that he couldn’t care less. During our last argument…” Dean took a deep breath in, “He said he wished I had left and Sam had stayed.”
Cas inhaled sharply, bristling as he sat beside Dean.
“He said—He said he would want to get better for Sam, because Sam’s actually a son worth getting better for. Then he said some homophobic shit and insulted my career.” A pause, “I left after that…”
The wind continued to blow softly around them.
“Dean…I don’t even know what to say.”
Dean let out a bitter laugh and nodded, “Yeah join the club.”
“That is completely unacceptable behavior, why are you even still in contact with him?”
“I ask myself that a lot. But like I told Sam, I just can’t let him die, I can’t let him kill himself." He looked at Cas with pleading eyes, “He’s my dad.”
“Then he needs to act like it.”
“Yeah, tell that to him.’”
Many people have tried to tell John. Missouri Moseley, a family friend and often babysitter for Sam and Dean when they were kids, had told John multiple times to get his act together. She would even bring up Mary, telling John how disappointed she would be with the way he was raising Sam and Dean. Of course, that would only infuriate him further, and would consequently be taken out on Dean in private.
“I’m so sorry you had to hear those things, Dean.” Cas laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He felt a chill go through his whole body. “You know none of them are true, right?”
When Dean didn’t respond Cas took matters into his own hands. Literally. He reached out his hand to hold the side of Dean’s face and forced him to look at him.
“You are not a worthless son, you aren’t disgusting for your sexuality, and your profession is one of the most noble careers any person could have.”
Dean tried to look away but Cas’s grip on his face brought him right back.
“Tell me you understand.”
A warm feeling began spreading from Dean’s gut and into his chest, “I understand, Cas.” He whispered, it could barely be heard over the breeze.
This was why nobody could ever be like Cas. He knew when to be gentle and handle with care, but he also knew when he had to force Dean to accept good things, to accept love.
Dean couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Cas’s middle and nuzzling his head under Cas's neck.
Cas stiffened at first—probably from surprise—but then he melted into the hug, putting one hand on the back of Dean’s head and the other on his lower back. They didn’t show physical affection very often, mostly because Dean didn’t want to risk himself reacting suspiciously, but oh, how he craved the physical touch.
After a few long seconds, Dean pulled away. He wiped away at a stray tear that had escaped during Cas's little speech and put his hands back in his lap.
“Um, Dean?”
Dean sniffled, “Yeah?”
“There-” Cas cleared his throat, “there was something I wanted to ask you.”
“Shoot.”
Cas’s fingers rubbed at his palm, looking much more timid now compared to his assertive attitude just moments before.
“First, I want you to tell me if at any moment during this conversation you feel uncomfortable.”
Dean looked between himself and Cas.
“O…kay?”
“And I also don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of your vulnerable state right now.” Cas took a deep breath, ”I just wanted to ask you as soon as possible, and I thought today would be a good time.” Dean nodded his response.
“Lastly, I don’t want what I’m about to say to ruin our friendship. If you don’t want anything to do with it, just tell me immediately and I’ll stop talking.”
Dean’s heart was beating rapidly at this point. What was Cas talking about? Did he know about Dean’s feelings?
“I noticed you were trying to ask me for something on Wednesday, but you gave up…”
Oh my god, had he really figured it out? Was he about to ask him…
“If my guess was correct, you were going to ask me if I would show you the ropes of BDSM…?”
Dean didn’t respond, his face and neck were red hot. He tried to come up with a serious response but he was drawing a blank.
“Nice pun.”
Cas let out a surprised laugh. “I should’ve known that’s what you’d focus on.”
Dean smiled nervously and looked down at his shoes.
“How—um…how did you know that’s what I was gonna ask?” Dean asked softly.
“Well, you asked me to ‘show you,’—”
There he goes with those weird ass air quotes, what a dork. Dean thought fondly.
“—There’s only so many ways that can be interpreted, Dean.”
“Yeah…I guess so.”
Silence again. It wasn’t awkward, just something to give them time to think, to ponder. Dean carefully thought of what to say next.
“Do you think it would—would it make it awkward? You know,” he gestured to both of them, “between us?”
“I don’t think so Dean. Many people have platonic BDSM partners. It’s not something that has to happen between people in a relationship, it often doesn’t. Many people do it to help cope with everyday stress, something I think both of us deal with quite a lot.”
Dean chewed on his lip, “This is something you’d want?”
“I…” Cas started to speak but cut himself off.
“Yes.”
Dean let out a short laugh, “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
“Dean.”
Realizing Cas wanted his full attention, he turned his head to look at Cas straight on.
“I would very much love to be your Dom.”
Those words alone had Dean’s dick straining inside his jeans. He made a low sound in his throat, not knowing how else to respond.
“Dean?” Cas’s voice broke Dean out of his trance.
“I think I’d like that.”
Notes:
I know there was a lot of Dean’s family drama in this chapter, but trust we will be getting to some good bits between Dean and Cas in the next chapter. ;)
Chapter 4
Summary:
- Switching POV’s
- A lot of BDSM terms/discussion
- TW: internalized homophobia, referenced/implied past sexual abuse
Notes:
Surprise! Told you I’d post this sooner than Sunday! :D Don’t get used to it though because I’m still cranking these chapters out pretty slow.
I do have the whole story planned out though, as well as the amount of chapters it will be, so that’s exciting! (This story is definitely gonna be way longer than I thought it would. 😅)
Anyway, time for Dean and Cas to do a bit of negotiating… ;3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Cas's POV)
Falling in love with Dean Winchester was simultaneously the easiest and most difficult thing Castiel had ever done.
From the minute Cas had befriended Dean, he knew he was a goner. Like any sane person, Cas was immediately drawn to Dean’s breathtaking physical appearance. Green eyes brighter than emeralds with golden eyelashes to match, a grin that would make anyone’s heart melt, and a strong, confident build. But what Cas found the most alluring was Dean’s soul.
First glances might suggest that Dean was cocky, one of those jocks that peaked in high school and could never let go. But Dean was far from that. He was a dick, sure, but he was a dick in only the best ways. His humor tested Cas every day, but it was also what made him so uniquely him. Even at his work, Dean managed to be cheerful and lighthearted, no matter the heartbreaking situations he faced. And while, yes, Dean’s usual personality consisted of teasing and jokes—many of which were said at the expense of himself—he did also possess a more serious side, one that not many people got to see.
When it came to emotions and feelings, Dean might try to keep up a facade of stoicism, but truly he was incredibly soft and kind. He felt so acutely—more acutely than anyone Cas had ever met. And while that fact caused Dean a great deal of turmoil, it also made him exceedingly empathetic.
He was someone so damaged by the world, that if anyone had the right to be angry and hurtful in return, it would be Dean. But he wasn’t, not even close. He sacrificed so much for his family. He raised his younger brother, and took care of a father who was immensely undeserving of any of the love Dean showed him.
Cas had only met John a handful of times, mostly because Dean did everything in his power to keep it from happening—Cas didn’t understand at first, but he certainly did now. How could a man so cruel and selfish have a son so completely the opposite? Cas would surely never comprehend it.
So loving Dean was easy. It was natural for Cas, almost as if he was specifically made to be the person who cared for Dean unconditionally, who was so devoted and enamored, always willing to take care of Dean in any way he needed, to protect and uplift him.
But loving Dean was also hard.
When Cas had discovered Dean was bisexual—about a month or so into their friendship—he had felt hope like never before. If he was attracted to men, maybe Cas had a chance?
Slowly, that hope dwindled to nothing. Cas could tell Dean was still getting used to being open and comfortable in his sexuality—courtesy of his father no doubt—so he gave it time, time to see if maybe Dean would say something, give any inclination that he was interested.
But it never came.
Cas still fantasized often of what life would look like if his love was returned, how they would live together, wake up in the morning together, make love and shower each other with praise and affection. He tried not to because it only made his heart hurt worse, but he couldn’t help it. In the end, he knew there was no hope for him, no hope for them, and Cas needed to accept that.
I mean, it was glaringly obvious Dean had no intention of reciprocating Cas’s feelings, he would have said something. He hooked up with people all the time—sure, he hadn’t had a serious relationship since Cas had met him, but he’s vocal enough, if he wanted Cas in that way he would’ve told him, right?
Maybe Cas could have taken the initiative, but Dean already dealt with so much in life, he didn’t want to ruin one of Dean’s only consistent safety nets. He could continue being the supportive best friend, he had to.
And so on life went for about 14 months, the best—and worst—fucking months of his life. He shoved down his feelings and desires and accepted the love and friendship that Dean gave him. He never asked for anything more, he never expected it.
Until today.
“I think I’d like that.”
Cas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’s had suspicions ever since the Wednesday morning in the kitchen, but now, to hear loud and clear that Dean truly wanted to sub for him?
To say that Cas was ecstatic was an understatement.
He always tried his best to avoid any sexual fantasies regarding him and Dean, but they could never be entirely evaded.
As much as he hated to admit it, he always felt like Dean would make the perfect sub. He wasn’t openly needy or overly dependent—like many subs Cas had encountered—instead, Dean was hesitant to seek help or comfort from others, opting mostly to fend for himself. Getting Dean to rely on someone else, or to accept the idea of someone caring for him, was a difficult task to do. But oh, once Dean allowed himself that vulnerability, he was absolute perfection.
Whenever Cas had the privilege of witnessing Dean allowing himself to be taken care of, it was magnificent. He was so pliant, so willing. He had a constant urge to please—and to reward the efforts of whoever was taking care of him at that moment by doing exactly as he was told swiftly and obediently.
Like the most recent moment on the couch. Cas could tell Dean had drifted somewhere warm and safe, his mind allowing himself to lower his guard and trust that Cas would take care of him. When he had asked Dean to sit up so he could search for any concerning issues, Dean had done so without question, soft and malleable under Cas’ hands.
Cas was also ashamed to admit the arousal that was sparked at that moment.
Despite his fervent love for Dean, Cas was still a human with human urges. He still occasionally sought out people that could help satiate his more sensual desires and BDSM was an important outlet for Cas. He loved the feeling of control—not in an authoritative oppressive sense, but in the way that he was the one in charge of bringing pleasure to someone else. With a profession that could often leave him feeling helpless to save people, this one thing allowed him to regain control.
These feelings were also most likely a product of his upbringing. He had grown up in a family with generational wealth. His immediate family consisted mostly of CEO’s of companies that had long been in the family name, or lawyers who also worked for those companies. Cas’ father had always wanted him to follow that path of being a lawyer, but that was never Cas’ dream.
His love for helping people combined with his fascination of the human body, made Cas the perfect fit to be a doctor. When his father swiftly shot the idea down, Cas knew he would have to abandon everything he’d known in order to follow his dream.
Still, years of being told where to stand, how to talk, when to show up and how to behave—let’s just say he was done being controlled.
And so he found something that could help him get back control, give himself stability. It was going great for a long time, he had plenty of partners through the years, most of whom were great fits and enthusiastic participants. It was going swimmingly.
Until he met Dean.
Once his feelings were made known to him, he struggled to find the same satisfaction out of hookups. He had some regulars, subs he had met at a BDSM club in the town over. But generally speaking, his desire to scene with complete strangers, massively plummeted after meeting his green-eyed best friend.
He thought maybe all hope was lost to get back the spark he had originally felt while Domming.
But it wasn’t…
Now he was finally given the opportunity to experience that euphoric give-and-take with the one person he’s craved more intensely than anyone in his life.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Cas’s calm voice didn’t match the torrent of emotions swelling inside him.
“So um… how would it work? I mean—do we just set a date or…” Dean trailed off, obviously a bit embarrassed discussing the subject.
“I um…” Cas hesitated to say his next words, not wanting to sound too over-eager, “I actually already drew up a list of things we need to go over before we engage in a scene, as well as a list of things you can adjust depending on what suits you…”
“A kink list?”
“Pretty much.”
“Damn Cas, look at you gettin all fifty-shades on me.”
Cas internally cringed, “Please don’t compare my attempts to make you comfortable with that god-awful movie series.”
“Guess the BDSM representation wasn’t all that great, huh?”
“Understatement.”
The sun began setting lower in the sky and the air had a bit of a bite.
Cas interrupted the silence, “If you want, I was thinking maybe we could go over the list tonight. I know you have work in the morning so I don’t want to keep you too long. I just thought the sooner we get it done the better, right?”
Dean smirked, “Someone’s a lil eager.”
Cas rolled his eyes, but smiled.
“It’s okay Cas, no judgment here. Anyone in their right mind would want to get in my pants as soon as possible.” He leaned back, cockily spreading his legs wider.
“We could always wait until Monday.”
Dean’s face dropped a bit as he sat straight up, he opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself short, realizing what Cas was trying to do.
“Unless of course, you’d rather get it done sooner?”
Cas raised one brow.
Dean nodded, head turned down slightly.
Cas couldn’t help himself, he leaned in, mouth right next to Dean’s ear.
“Guess I'm not the only one who’s eager, hmm?”
Dean swallowed, Cas could practically see the shiver that ran through Dean’s entire body.
—
Once they pulled into Castiel’s driveway, Cas could immediately tell Dean was nervous. He pulled the keys out of the ignition, fiddling with them a bit as he waited for Cas to get out of the car first. He did that thing where he would chew on the inside of his cheek and keep his gaze on his hands, his tell for whenever he felt scared or unsure about something.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea—doing all of this so soon. Dean did just go through a pretty traumatic experience, and he has work tomorrow, something that’s already going to take a mental toll. Yes, Cas was eager to set the guidelines and begin planning their first scene, but he would never do it at the expense of Dean’s health.
“Dean, you know I was teasing earlier, right? We really don’t have to do it tonight, we can wait until monday.”
Dean turned his head so quickly that one would’ve thought Cas was dying beside him.
“No!”
Dean’s response was surprising, to say the least.
“I um—I mean—I wanna get it out of the way…let’s just do it now.”
“Are you sure?”
Dean nodded just slightly, turning towards his door to get out.
“Dean, I need you to tell me out loud.”
“Oh,” Dean looked shyly at Cas, “Yeah, I’m sure Cas.”
—
The minute they stepped foot inside, Dean’s gaze focused in on the door leading to Cas’s playroom.
Cas smiled, “Dean, do you want to see it again before we get started?”
Dean squeaked out a small “yes,” as his face reddened.
“Alright then, follow me.”
They walked up to the door and Cas took the key off the doorframe—now that he thought about it, that really wasn’t a very good hiding spot. He unlocked the door.
The temperature was a bit cooler in this room than in the rest of the house, but Cas seriously doubted that was the reason for the chills he could see forming on Dean’s neck and forearms.
“Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
Dean looked simultaneously embarrassed and insulted by the question, “Yes—well uh, not exactly. I mean, not in real life…”
Cas gestured to the whole room, “Well feel free to explore, and let me know if you have any questions.”
Dean hesitantly stepped forward. His first object of interest was the spanking bench—interesting. He reached out his hands to touch it but stopped abruptly, looking at Cas.
“Go ahead. Don’t worry, everything here is very clean.” Cas said, amused.
Dean rubbed his hands on the smooth leather, he looked so entranced.
“Is this—“ Dean’s voice was rough around the edges, “—is this something we could try?”
Cas was surprised, but proud that Dean was asking for something he wanted, even if it was new to him. Still, Cas couldn’t help the predatory grin that spread across his face, “Of course, Dean. Anything in here is open for use.”
Dean nodded, still looking at the bench.
Slowly but surely Dean made his way around the room, asking questions here and there, getting progressively more confident as he did so.
Eventually, they made it to the left side of the bed where Cas kept a cart of snacks and a mini fridge.
Dean jerked a thumb towards the setup and laughed, “Dude, why do you have this in here?”
“It’s for aftercare.”
“I thought aftercare was like…cuddles and shit.”
It was Cas’s turn to laugh, “Well, yes that can definitely be part of it. But scening can potentially take a toll on the body, it’s always good to eat something to help replenish natural sugars, as well as drinking water or Gatorade to help rehydrate.”
“Ah.”
“If you have any drinks or snacks in mind that you’d like to have for aftercare, you can request some. Although, I’d prefer if they were on the healthier side.”
“So no chocolate?” Dean stuck out a pouting lip.
Cas gave a reassuring smile, “Maybe on occasion.”
Dean turned back around to scan the rest of the room once more. “I have to say—I mean, I know I don’t know a whole lot about this stuff, but this is really nice.”
Cas’s chest puffed up with pride, “I’ve certainly spent a long time trying to perfect it.”
“How long? I mean—how long have you been into this kinda stuff?”
“Since I was twenty years old, so about nine years.”
“Wow.”
Cas was worried at Dean’s tone, “Is that a bad thing…?”
“Um no—no not at all. It’s just…”
“Yes?”
“It’s just—you’ve been doing this for so long, you’re practically a professional. And…you’ve probably had a lot of great partners.”
Cas wasn’t understanding the issue, “yes…”
“And I’ve never done this before. I know I won’t be as perfect as the subs you usually have. I dunno… I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
Dean’s voice became softer and he trailed off towards the end of his explanation.
Dean seriously doubted how good of a sub he would be? Well Cas couldn’t have that.
He stepped forward, bringing his hands up to the side of Dean’s face. He was being more intimate than he probably should, but he needed Dean to pay attention to what he had to say next.
“Dean, you will be the perfect sub for me.”
Dean scoffed, “Yeah, and how do you know that?”
“Because I know you, I know you don’t give up easily, and you always try your best. I don’t want a perfect, know-it-all sub, Dean, I want you.”
Dean inhaled sharply.
“Plus, I’m here to teach you and help you unwind, not judge your performance. This is for you as much as it is for me.”
“Okay…”
Cas let go of Dean’s face and rubbed his hands together, “Alright, are you ready for the next part?”
Dean nodded.
– (Dean’s POV)
Once they made their way back to the living room, Cas gestured for Dean to take his place on the couch. His friend walked into the kitchen to grab them something to drink and returned, sitting down next to Dean. He set down two cokes on the coffee table and picked up the papers he had prepared from before.
“What are you five? Where’s the beer?”
“I don’t want us to be mentally hindered by any inebriating substances Dean, this is a very important conversation and I need you to be fully aware.”
“Substances?—Cas, one beer ain’t gonna get me drunk.” He let out a short laugh.
“Still, I need to be one hundred percent sure.”
Dean rolled his eyes but relented, grabbing the can and cracking it open, taking a sip.
“See, was that so hard?”
Dean stuck his tongue out.
“Alright, I’ve made two copies of this so each of us can have our own,” Cas handed him a packet of papers that was stapled together at the top.
“The first two sheets go over some rules and guidelines for this type of relationship, and the following pages are—“
“The kink list.” Dean interrupted.
“Precisely.”
Dean felt Cas watching him as he studied the paper intently.
”This paper signifies all rights, responsibilities, and rules that are to be shared between Dominant: Castiel Novak, and submissive: _______.”
“You’ve used this contract before?”
“Yes, But—it’s not exactly a contract per se. It’s more of a handbook for reference than for legal purposes.”
“Oh okay.” Dean continued to read.
”Section I (a) - Responsibilities: Dominant
—The Dominant will always respect any limits or concerns the submissive may have.
—The Dominant will communicate openly and honestly both in and out of scenes.
—The Dominant will pay attention to any of the submissive's needs, spoken or not, and will make sure they are all met with care and precision.
—The Dominant will help their submissive expand and grow their limits while unconditionally adhering to consent as well as any of the sub’s hard limits.”
“Section I (b) - Responsibilities: submissive
—The submissive will be, first and foremost, completely honest about any limits or concerns they may feel before, during, or after a scene.
—The submissive will respect their Dominant, trusting them when needed to make the best decisions for both themselves and the submissive.
—The submissive should never hesitate to use their safeword or to openly communicate any discomfort they experience at any time while interacting with the Dominant.
—The submissive will be asked to have an open mind and a willingness to try unless the Dominant is asking them to participate in a hard limit.”
“Let me know when you’re finished reading the first section,” Cas interjected softly.
“Oh, um I—I am.”
“Do you have any thoughts or questions so far?”
Dean opened his mouth to reply when Cas added, “And please let me know if there’s anything here that would be an issue for you, unless it has to do with consent, I am open to tweaking a few things.”
“No, I—this looks good.”
Dean began messing with the corner of the page.
“Alright, well if you’d like to continue you can move on to the next page.”
He flipped to the next section.
”Section II (a) - Rights: Dominant.
—The Dominant has the right to stop any scene at any point in time by using either the stoplight system or their decided safeword.
—The Dominant has the right to refuse the submissive of any request they may be uncomfortable with performing, including but not limited to soft and hard limits.
—The Dominant has the right to end the relationship and or agreement at any time.
”Section II (b) - Rights: submissive.
—The submissive has the right to stop any scene at any point in time by using either the stoplight system, decided safeword, or by any other means the Dominant has provided them in cases of verbal limitations. If the safe word is ignored or hesitated to be taken seriously, the submissive has the right to take legal action against the Dominant.
—The submissive has the right to refuse the Dominant of any request or command they may ask of the submissive. They may refuse by calling “yellow,” “red,” or safewording.
—The submissive has the right to end the relationship and or agreement at any time.
—The submissive may also end a scene at any time by simply removing their collar. Once the collar is removed any and all power dynamics will be void. What the submissive says or does during this time will not affect a potential follow up scene.”
It took Dean significantly longer to read this portion of the agreement. Cas began to look worried.
“A…c-collar?”
Cas rushed to explain, “Yes, that is what I typically have my subs wear to signify when we are in and out of scenes. It helps to keep a clear line between reality and fantasy, as well as allow the sub to have complete control at all times.”
Dean was quiet. After thinking about it for several moments he felt…conflicted. He knew the reason was completely valid, smart even. It’s just…a collar? It’s not that Dean didn’t like the idea, quite the opposite actually.
The thought of wearing a collar for Cas had his mind reeling. It was scary, but not the act itself, it was scary how much Dean loved it. He wanted to feel owned by Cas. He wanted to feel like he belonged to him.
“Is that going to be an issue for you?”
No.
“Maybe…”
Cas smiled softly, “We can think of something else Dean, I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Dean cursed himself for being so ridiculous.
“Is there anything else here that you find concerning?—again, excluding rules about consent.”
“N—no. Um, but about that, I didn’t know Dom’s had safewords?”
“Safewords are important for all parties involved. Although it may appear that the Dominant is the one in ‘charge,’ they are also taking on a large mental task and role. It’s important that they can opt out of this at any time, either for their own safety, or the subs’s.”
“I see.”
Dean read on.
”Section III - Rules: The submissive.
Scening at Home:
—The submissive will always address their Dominant as “Sir,” unless otherwise directed.
—The submissive will kneel in the middle of the playroom, naked with their collar on, if they wish to play, or if they are about to begin a scheduled scene.
—The submissive will follow every command the Dominant asks of them with quick obedience. If they have any issues they may call yellow or safeword at any time.
—The submissive will always rest on a kneeling pillow if they are kneeling. If they cannot find one they may use a couch pillow or ask their Dominant.
—The submissive should always be clean and have good hygiene.
—The submissive may ask questions freely at any time. They may also conversate with the Dominant if they are given permission, otherwise, they shall not speak out of turn.
—The submissive will answer every question the Dominant asks with a verbal and clear response. (Unless they are rhetorical questions, particularly for stimulation)
—If the submissive deliberately disobeys a command from the Dominant they will first receive a warning and if the submissive disobeys a second time they will receive a punishment.
—Punishments will depend on the sub’s limits and preferences, but generally speaking, they will include one of the following: orgasm denial/edging, chastity, spanking, etc.
Scening In Public:
—The submissive will address their Dom as their proper title decided upon before having a public scene.
—The submissive will wear a collar or appropriate substitute to establish that they are in a scene while in public.
—If the submissive and Dominant are in a public space, the submissive will speak only when spoken to, they will not try to engage in conversation with anyone, and they will remain by the Dominant’s side at all times.
—For public scenes, the submissive will wear an outfit of the Dominant’s choosing.
—If the submissive misbehaves during a public scene, they will receive a punishment during the next scene at home, unless there is a private space provided for the Dominant to give the punishment.”
“Jesus Christ”
Dean set the paper down and began rubbing his knuckles at his eyes.
“I know that’s probably a lot to take in…” Cas said softly.
Dean scoffed, “Yeah, no kidding.”
Neither of them said anything for several moments.
Finally, Cas spoke, “Dean, if there’s anything here you wouldn’t be comfortable with I will certainly consider changing it—or if this is too much period, we don’t have to continue.”
“No…No I—”
Dean didn’t have a problem with most of it—maybe one or two things—but overall this was exactly what he expected a normal BDSM relationship to look like. It was fair, responsible, and so so so hot.
It made Dean want things he never thought he would want before. He wanted to kneel for Cas. He wanted to please him but he also wanted to see how far he had to push for a punishment, he even wanted to know what a punishment would look like…
He surprised even himself with how much he wanted to do a public scene. To know that he and Cas were playing, that he was his sub and Cas was his Dom, when nobody else knew…that was incredibly tantalizing.
Sure, some things scared him. Like how he couldn’t talk to anyone in public, how Cas had to choose what he had to wear…I mean what was up with that? And of course, there was the whole collar thing. He could probably get used to that… he just needed to see it to make it real and less scary. But he sure as hell wasn’t wearing one in public.
While Dean was thinking, Cas was getting progressively more worried. “I think we should stop Dean, I believe I made you uncomfortable and the last thing I want is—”
”Woah woah, hold up” Dean laughed softly, waving a hand in the air. “It’s okay Cas, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. This is—it’s not bad, just new. And if I’m being completely honest…”
Cas was on the edge of his seat, “Yes?”
“I’m—I’m kinda really into it.”
Cas’s mouth hung open in disbelief.
“I mean, there’s a couple things I’d probably ask you to tweak, but for the most part…I really like this.”
“That is…wonderful news, Dean. And yes—anything you need me to tweak we can definitely take a look at.”
Dean picked up the packet again, “Just the part about not talking while in public? And also the whole picking my clothes thing.”
“Ah, yes. The first rule you mentioned is much more flexible than you probably think. If—and this is a big if—we were to ever scene at a BDSM club, I would have stricter rules about you speaking with other Dominants and whatnot. In more general public places, however, I will allow you to speak much more freely. I would just ask that you keep proper manners and perhaps just speak a little less.”
He thought for a few seconds then nodded his head, “Okay, I can do that.”
“And as for the second rule, I don’t think you’ll dislike it as much as you think you would. It’s simply another way for you to give up control while doing a public scene when you have limited ways of doing that. I would never force you to wear anything you don’t like, and I will allow you to negotiate if you’re strongly against whatever I chose for you.”
Wow, this stuff definitely didn’t sound as bad when Cas explained it to him.
“Alright, that’s not so bad.”
Cas looked relieved, “I’m glad you think so.”
They both took a quick break to drink and use the bathroom, then they returned to their places on the couch.
“Now, onto the kink list,” Cas said, winking at Dean.
Dean smirked.
“Before you start reading, I want to preface this by saying nothing on this list is exempt from being a hard limit. If you think anything is too much for you, please tell me. We can mark out anything here.”
“I-”
“I do want to add though, that if you’re on the fence about something, we can always set it as a soft limit. That way we can try it if you’re feeling up to it, but I’ll know this is something you’re hesitant about.”
Dean sighed a bit exhaustively, “Okay, Cas.”
The list was slightly long so Dean settled in as he began to read.
“Section IV - Likes, Soft Limits, Hard Limits
Bondage
—St. Andrew’s Cross
—Bondage Sofa
Light
—Blindfolds
—Handcuffs/Wrist Restraints
—Collars
—Leash
—Gag (Ball, Cloth)
—Rope Bondage (Simple)
—Spreader Bar
Heavy
—Rope Bondage (Intricate - Shibari)
—Suspension
—Chastity Device
—Gag (Ring)
—Collar (For In Public)
Impact/Rough Play
—Spanking Bench
Spanking
—Paddle
—Bare Hand
—Cane
—Leather Flogger
—Belt
—Riding Crop
—Another object (i.e. Hairbrush)
—Face Slapping (Light, Hard)
Sensation Play
—Choking (Breath Control, Blood Flow Restriction)
—Hair Pulling
—Hot Wax
—Ice Cubes
—Nipple Clamps
—Nipple Play (Pulling, Twisting)
—Sensory Deprivation (Blindfold, Headphones)
—Finger Sucking
Verbal Kinks
—Praise
—Humiliation
—Begging
Sexual Activity/ Penetration
Oral
—Facefucking
—Cockwarming
—Blow Jobs
Anal
—Anal Sex
—Finger Fucking
—Anal Plugs
—Anal Beads
—Dildos
—Vibrator (Regular & Remote Controlled)
—Fucking Machine
Penis
—Topping
—Cock Ring
—Cock Cage
Exhibitionism
—Public Sex
—Semi-Public Sex”
Dean scanned over the list several times before saying anything to Cas. He was breathing heavily at this point. He could feel a blush creep up his cheeks while his dick began to plump up in his boxers. Dean was gonna do this stuff with Cas? He couldn’t believe it…but he wanted it so badly.
“So—“
“Here.” Dean looked over at Cas, he was handing him two highlighters, a pink one and a yellow one. “Just highlight any soft limits with the yellow marker and any hard limits with the pink one.”
Dean took the next five minutes going over the list once again, marking certain items as he did so. He ended up marking five soft limits and two hard limits. Once he was done he handed the markers, as well as his adjusted list, back over to Cas.
“Okay let me see,” Cas ran his pointer finger down the page, “So you’ve marked, leashes, suspension, anal beads, humiliation, and public sex as soft limits. Would you like any further explanation before we make final adjustments?”
“Uh…Sure.”
“Wonderful. So a leash is something I typically use when scening at a BDSM club, since we are nowhere near that, I would say it’s a good idea to keep this as a soft limit. And then…Ah yes, suspension. This is a form of bondage where the sub is tied together with ropes and hung, slightly or high, above the ground–”
“Yeah I know what that one means. I just don’t really like the idea of falling and not being able to catch myself.”
“I understand that, Dean. However, I will say the suspension points in my playroom are over the bed, so if you fall—which you never should—it would be a very cushioned landing.”
Dean hesitated and then replied, “Alright…well I might consider it, but I would still like to keep it as a soft limit if it’s okay with you.”
“Of course, Dean. Now, anal beads are also pretty self-explanatory, but I assure you they are also quite safe and enjoyable.”
Dean rolled his eyes a bit, “Yeah, and how would you know? You’re the Dom,”
Cas smirked, “That doesn’t mean I’ve never tried anal beads. In fact, most things on this list I have experienced before.”
Dean was dumbfounded, “Wait, seriously?”
“Yes, but that’s a conversation for another time. As for the anal beads, if you truly don’t want to try it, I understand.”
Dean gave a grateful nod.
“Humiliation is certainly a kink not everyone enjoys—and since I can see you thrive mostly off of praise—I think it would be advisable to keep this as a soft limit.”
Cas was looking down at his papers so he didn’t see Dean blush furiously at his correct assumption.
“However,” Cas went on, “I do think you would enjoy some forms of humiliation.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, for example, I don’t think you would enjoy being called a little slut,”
He paused, eyes locking with Dean’s.
“But maybe you would enjoy being called my little slut, hm?”
Dean gulped, face flushed red and mouth slightly open. He looked down and nodded slightly. Cas made a confirming noise and smiled.
“And lastly, the public sex on this list is only referring to a scene done at a BDSM club. We have the ability to do a scene in front of other people who give their consent to watch. We would never have a scene or do public sex in a place, other than the club, where people could actually see us.”
“Oh, okay then. Well, I don’t know about the whole club thing, but if that’s the case you can take it off the soft limits list I guess.”
“No, I’ll leave it for now.”
Dean shrugged.
“Alright and then you’re two hard limits are hot wax and public collar. This is understandable, I will mark them off completely when I draw up a new list.” He wrote down a note on the side of the paper. “Are you okay with collars period, or just for in public? I know you said it would be an issue earlier.”
Dean thought long and hard about how to answer, but he wasn’t entirely sure himself, so he decided to do the responsible thing and ask for Cas’s help.
“I’m not sure, but I was wondering if maybe—maybe I could see it?”
Cas’s eyebrows shot up at the suggestion, “Oh, of course you can.”
Cas was only gone for a few seconds as he went to retrieve the collar.
Once his friend returned to the living room, Dean’s gaze immediately zeroed in on the plain, black leather collar in his hand.
Cas held it out to him and he took it.
He felt silly for feeling so scared, the collar was so simple.
“Would you like to try it on?” Cas suggested, his voice barely over a whisper.
Words weren’t coming out of Dean’s mouth, so he nodded.
Cas took it back from him when Dean made no attempt to do it himself. Cas unstrapped the collar and paused, “Dean, I want you to know that this will be the only time I ever put this collar on you, and that is simply because this is not going to signify the start of a scene. If you decide to wear the collars, then you will always put them on yourself. Do you understand?”
Another nodd.
Cas quirked an eyebrow upwards, “Verbal confirmation.”
“Yes, S—Cas. Yes, I understand.”
Cas began fastening the collar around Dean’s neck, his hands were big but also gentle and soft. Once he finished he stepped back, letting Dean get used to the sensation.
It was…
Amazing.
See, this was what Dean was scared of. He loved it so much—too much. It was humiliating, overwhelming. Dean Winchester wanted to be collared and owned like a dog. What kind of a man—
Dean blinked back to reality when he felt hands cupping his face once again.
“I know what you’re thinking, Dean. Please don’t feel ashamed for enjoying this, you are stunning. If you like it, then that’s all that matters.”
Dean looked down at his lap but nodded as best he could with Cas’s hands holding his face.
“I know…It’s—I just—I don’t know.”
“I won’t force you to wear it, Dean, but I can tell that you feel good in it and I don’t see sense in denying yourself of that.”
“Yeah—I—I do feel good in it.” Dean whimpered out.
He could see a flash of arousal burn through Cas’s blue eyes.
“Then are you okay with using this for our normal scenes?”
“Yes, Castiel.”
Cas groaned—Dean guessed it was from his use of Cas’s full name.
He reached behind Dean’s neck and undid the collar, lifting it off his neck and returning it to the playroom.
By the time Cas made it back to the couch, Dean was a turned-on mess.
His friend went over a few more technicalities, such as how Dean needed to get tested and when they should begin scheduling scenes. Dean could barely pay attention though.
His previously, semi-hard dick was now at full-mast—hard and aching. He knew Cas said they were only going over the list today, but he didn’t think he could wait.
Apparently, Cas noticed something was off with him.
“Dean, are you alr—”
“—Don’t you think we should test this out?”
Cas stared at Dean a moment before responding, “Test this out?”
“Yeah, you know, to see if we’re compatible?”
“Dean, we are not doing a scene right now.”
For a second Dean was worried he was pushing it, if they weren’t in a scene then it wouldn’t make sense to fool around right now, the whole point of this is that it’s a platonic BDSM relationship.
But after reading and talking about all of—that—for close to an hour—well it was driving Dean crazy with need. He needed to get his hands on Cas, he had to.
“I know. I wasn’t saying we should do that…exactly…”
Cas tilted his head and studied his expression. Finally, he set the papers back down and turned his whole body to Dean, leg coming up to rest on the couch. “What are you suggesting, Dean?”
Here we go again, Cas was asking for something Dean’s never gonna ask for himself.
“I don’t know,” He gave up.
After a bit of awkward silence, Dean was on the verge of running out the door. Before he could, Cas reached out and put a hand on Dean’s thigh. It was warm and comforting, but when Dean looked up at his friend, there was heat behind Cas’s eyes. When he didn’t retreat from the contact, Cas took this as a sign to continue.
He inched closer to Dean, gaze diverting between Dean's eyes and lips. Dean reached out, bringing him closer, until finally he was almost in Dean's lap. One hand was sliding up Dean’s shoulder while the other rested on the right side of his neck. Cas gave Dean a look as if he was asking permission and he nodded ever so slightly. Cas threw a leg over Dean’s. He was straddling him.
This felt like a dream—the heavy feel of Cas’s body pressing down on him, chest-to-chest. His thighs bracketed Dean’s perfectly. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at Dean and his hands were gentle yet firm as they began making their way up his neck and onto his jaw. Cas’s thumbs brushed the corners of Dean’s mouth.
“Dean, may I kiss you?”
Dean didn’t respond, he just jerked forward into the kiss, needily pushing his lips to Cas’s.
They were just like he imagined, perfectly soft against Dean’s mouth. Due to his enthusiastic response, Cas was stunned a bit at first. But after a second or two, he set to work quickly. He used his grip on Dean’s jaw to turn his head, putting him in every position he wanted him in. Dean held on tight, arms wrapped around Cas’s middle.
They moaned simultaneously, grasping and clinging as if they were each other's only source of oxygen.
Cas’s talented tongue pushed into Dean’s mouth, claiming him, making him pliant underneath him. Dean welcomed any part of Cas into him. He needed it, craved it.
Time passed, maybe a few seconds, maybe a few hours—Dean didn’t know. But finally, they both pulled away, lips wet with spit, cheeks flushed, and chests going up and down with their heaving pants. Dean wanted to dive back in. He wanted Cas to lay him down on this couch, pin his hands above his head, and absolutely ruin him. But he knew he couldn’t have that. He needed to be okay with what he could get.
“Well…” Cas started breathlessly, “I’d say we’re pretty compatible.”
Dean let out a full belly laugh at that, head coming forward to rest on Cas’s chest. Cas laughed in return while cradling the back of Dean’s head. They sat like that for a while, laughs turning into content sighs, Dean’s forehead still resting on Cas’s chest.
“Not that I want this to end, Dean, but you have work in less than ten hours.”
Dean sighed, lifting his head and unwrapping his arms from around Cas.
Cas took this as a sign that they were done and got up from his lap. Dean already missed the feeling.
They both cleaned up the living room, throwing away their drinks and collecting all the papers and highlighters. It was surprisingly not as awkward as Dean thought it would be considering he just had Cas moaning in his lap not even three minutes ago. It was easy to slip back into the role of best friends, moving around each other with familiar comfortability.
However, once Dean had gathered his things and made it to the front door, it got a bit awkward.
He wasn’t sure what to do, suddenly all too aware of his hand movements.
“Uh, so—um, I gotta get tested and then we can set up a scene?”
“Yes, once we can confirm we're both clean, we can plan for our first scene.”
Dean gave a slow nod.
Cas cleared his throat, “I’m hoping we can maybe shoot for a week from now—if your test results come back quick enough.”
“Yeah, okay, sounds good.”
Cas didn’t say anything further, he just stared at Dean.
Dean couldn’t read his face.
“Well, uh, anyway—I’ll—um—I’ll see you later?”
“Yes, Dean.”
Dean gave a tight smile and a two-finger wave and left without another word.
– (Cas’s POV)
Once the door shut behind Dean, Cas let out the deep breath he had been holding. He stumbled to the couch and threw himself down, hands running through his hair.
He just kissed his best friend.
He just kissed his best friend.
Fuck.
Was it a mistake? I mean, probably not considering Dean was the one who kissed him first. And he did seem pretty damn enthusiastic about it.
God—he was so fucking perfect.
He melted beautifully under Cas’s commanding touch, turning his head in whichever way Cas wanted it. His breaths hitched every time it got too much, pretty moans escaping his swollen lips.
Cas couldn’t wait a week.
But he had too. This was the procedure he went through with every prospective sub and Dean was no different.
Well, he was definitely different, but Cas couldn’t treat him that way.
His heart hurt a little at that thought. He could kiss Dean, revel in the feelings of it all—but in the end, it was all fake. Just something they were doing to let off steam, stress relief. Maybe it meant the world to Cas, but to Dean it was just some fun experimentation.
A wave of sadness washed over Cas. Maybe he shouldn’t do this—for his own health.
But if this was the only way to get close to everything he ever dreamed, how could he just let it pass by?
He needed help.
Cas picked up his phone from the coffee table—he was definitely gonna regret this.
“Hey little Bro! What has you callin’ this time of night.” Gabriel’s voice rang cheerfully through the phone.
Sometimes Cas still couldn’t believe they were biological siblings with how different their personalities were.
Gabriel was the only family member Cas had kept in contact with after leaving everything behind. He was similar to Cas—a free spirit with no interest in the wealthy stuck-up life their parents had lead—but he was also very different. Gabe was flirtatious and outgoing, not caring a bit about the opinions of others, choosing to live his life to the fullest. The fullest, of course, being an excessively hedonistic lifestyle.
“Hello, Gabriel. I um—I wanted your opinion on something…”
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
Cas rolled his eyes, “Gabriel, I’m being serious.”
“Okay, okay—” Gabriel laughed, “It’s just—you don’t usually ask for my advice.”
Cas grumbled, “And yet you always give it anyway.”
“Well I’m the big brother, that’s kinda my job, right?”
“Whatever—are you going to listen to me or not?”
“I’m all ears, buddy.”
Cas gathered his thoughts, “So…I may or may not have…agreed to start a BDSM relationship with Dean…” Cas winced, waiting for Gabriel’s reply.
“Dean. You mean Dean Winchester? The Dean Winchester you’re in love with?”
Cas startled, stumbling over his words, “I’m not in love with him!”
“Wow. You’re dumber than I thought.”
“Gabe!”
“Alright, jeez. Okay the Dean you have a crush on then.”
Cas rubbed a palm down his face, “Of course, Gabriel.”
“Okay, and you want my advice because…?”
“Dammnit, Gabriel! Because I want to know if this is a terrible idea or not!”
“Oh its definitely a terrible idea.”
Cas sighed, “What should I do?”
“Well, have you scened yet?”
“No.”
“Have you gone over all the technical stuff?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well how did that go?”
Cas thought back over the last hour, “It went great. Dean was a lot more receptive of everything than I thought he would be. We marked his soft and hard limits, and overall I think he was pretty satisfied with the agreement.”
“But..?”
“But we kissed.”
“Oh. And why’s that a bad thing again?”
“Because we’re supposed to be platonic unless we’re scening!”
There was a moment of silence.
“Well, here’s a crazy idea, Cas. Maybe—just maybe…he likes you too.”
Cas immediately shot the idea down, he couldn’t let himself hope, “No, no way.”
“But you said you kissed?”
“Well, yes, but just because he may be physically attracted to me doesn’t mean he wants to take the friendship to the next level.”
“God y’all are insufferable. Okay, listen—is this a terrible idea because you’re inevitably gonna get your heart broken? Yes. Is it also a great idea because you get to fuck your crush? Fuck yes. Ultimately it’s up to you, Cassie.”
“That’s incredibly helpful, thank you, Gabriel.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.
“What can I say, I’m the pinnacle of wisdom.” Cas could hear his smirk through the phone.
“Well if you don’t have anymore brilliant words of wisdom to share with me, then I’m hanging up.”
“Nope, fresh out unfortunately.”
Cas groaned. Yeah he regretted this.
Before Cas could hang up, Gabriel added, “Just be careful, Cas. Don’t want a repeat of last time, now do we?”
Painful memories erupted in his mind. No, he would never let that happen to Dean. He was better than that.
“You know I’m talking about you, right?”
Siblings and their mind reading capabilities.
“The only one I’m worried about is Dean, I don’t care if I get hurt.”
“Yeah, figured as much, that’s why I gotta be the one that worries about you. If he breaks you’re heart it’s gonna be on sight, you hear?”
Cas’s heart was already broken.
“Okay, Gabriel.” Cas replied more fondly than he meant to.
“Night, Champ.”
“Goodnight.”
Yes, he just needed to focus on Dean. Give him the relief he desperately needed in life.
If Cas got hurt in the process—well, what’s new?
Notes:
Hope that was satisfying enough. Next chapter they’ll have their first scene, so stay tuned!
Comments are highly appreciated and motivate me to write faster. ;)
Chapter 5
Summary:
— Dean’s POV
— BDSM scene / smut (it’s gonna get steamy up in here y’all)
— TW’s: light medical emergency involving a child, a bit of internalized homophobia (might have missed some so pls let me know if I did!)
Notes:
Buckle in, because this is a long ass chapter. I thought about splitting it into two, but since 1. I promised I would give y’all their first scene, and 2. most of the upcoming chapters are gonna be around this length anyway, I just decided to leave it.
Something else I want to reiterate is that I am not a medical professional, I have done some research but honestly probably not enough, so please take all descriptions about Dean and Cas’s job with a grain of salt.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dean wouldn’t call himself a morning person, but he did enjoy the peaceful quiet that early mornings brought—the world shifting from night to day, the birds chirping, and the sun peaking through the curtains of his single bedroom apartment window. It was usually a soothing balm for his troubled soul, a time when he could recenter himself.
But today he wanted nothing more than to sink back into his warm, welcoming comforter.
After what happened last night, he didn’t want to wake up, go to work, and face reality. The last 12 hours had been a dream, a dream he had continued to dwell in as he slept. He dreamt of Cas’s hands—how they would feel on his back and shoulders, sliding down his sides, carding through his hair. How Cas’s strong fingers would wrap around his wrists and lower them to the bed, trapping them above his head, rendering him helpless.
God, he wanted to scene so badly. Needed it.
Unfortunately, he knew he had a whole week of working ahead of him. So as much as he wanted to drift off to sleep and think about all that’s to come, he couldn’t be late on his first day back from suspension. Singer’s definitely gonna tear him a new one anyway.
He rolled out of bed, joints creaking and hair sticking out in every direction. The carpet in his room was rough under his feet and the air was chilly from the spring morning—damn landlord couldn’t be bothered to fix the heat.
Thankfully he still had hot water, so he made his way to the bathroom aiming to take a nice relaxing shower. He set his phone on the bathroom sink and looked at the time.
Damn.
He really didn’t have much time to get ready…a hot shower would probably just slow him down…
Cold shower it was.
Dean did his best to ignore his morning wood, although the cold shower promptly helped to fix that little problem. He’s been wanting to jerk off since the first damn day he had stumbled upon Cas’s playroom, but with all the stuff going on with Dad and Sam he couldn’t find the energy. Last night also would’ve been a perfect opportunity but once he had gotten home and realized how exhausted he was, he had collapsed on his bed, barely making it out of his jeans
Tonight. He’d do it tonight. He had free reign now anyway since he and Cas were gonna be having sex pretty soon.
The thought made Dean shudder with excitement.
After a quick shower, Dean returned to his bedroom and began putting on his uniform. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but better than being a firefighter he supposed. His uniform consisted of navy slacks and a navy polo with an “Emergency Medical Technician” badge sewn on the sleeve.
Dean was just an EMT-B, which meant basic. He had thought about doing the full training hours and becoming a paramedic but he could never find the time, motivation, or confidence. Paramedics dealt with advanced emergency procedures and held a lot more responsibility when it came to delivering life-saving care.
Dean didn’t want to have that responsibility, not to mention he didn’t think he was smart enough to achieve all the necessary qualifications. Sam had always encouraged him to do it, but he was just being nice, they both knew who the smart kid of the family was and it sure as hell wasn’t Dean.
I mean, he could probably do it, he knew about almost everything a normal paramedic did anyway—courtesy of his partner Benny who was a paramedic. He had watched him work and practically knew every procedure Benny did, Dean just wasn’t technically allowed to do the same things.
He probably should just bite the bullet and put in the hours, the payoff would be worth it, and living in this economy while trying to sustain himself and his father—well, let’s just say it wasn’t easy.
Maybe he’d get around to it someday, but it probably wasn’t gonna be anytime soon.
As soon as he was finished getting himself presentable, Dean worked on getting the rest of his stuff. He ventured into the kitchen to pack as many food items as he could find in his lunch box, then he grabbed a granola bar for some breakfast, and snagged two water bottles from inside his fridge. The station had food and water but Dean was picky about what he ate and drank—contrary to what some people might think. It’s just that he liked to know exactly what was going inside his body, and the tap water from the station might as well be a chemical soup. The food wasn’t bad if it was fresh—meaning one of his coworkers had purchased it that day—but the stash of food in the dusty kitchen cabinets of the station was less than appetizing and most certainly not going to be eaten by Dean.
It took him a total of 25 minutes to get ready for the day, a record time compared to his diva of a younger brother—it always took that kid at least an hour to get his hair just the way he liked it.
Deciding that he had everything he needed for work and after retrieving his keys, phone, and wallet from the table by the door, Dean walked out to his car.
—
The ride to work was also a soothing time for Dean. He lived in between Lawrence and Kansas City—where the station and hospital were located—which meant he could be only about 20 minutes from both his Dad and work. The 20 minutes he had on his commute were either spent belting rock songs or sitting quietly, thinking about life. Either way, it was one of his favorite parts of the day.
Finally, he pulled into the station, Chevy Impala rumbling loudly. Baby—the name of his treasured car—was his most prized possession. So prized, in fact, that he had made Cas drive him all the way back to the bar to retrieve her the Wednesday he had gone back home.
She was a lot of work but Dean enjoyed spending time on her. Fixing her up gave him something to do with his hands, it was a good distraction that helped him relax. However, it wasn’t the greatest financial investment he had ever made. He should also probably avoid bringing her to work every day, but it’s not like he had any other options right now.
After parking in his usual spot and grabbing all of his stuff, he headed inside.
The station usually had four main units, minus some of the volunteers that were on standby. He and Benny made one unit and the other three consisted of Jo and Ash, Garth and Victor, and Ruby and Gordon.
Dean didn’t care for Ruby or Gordon, but thankfully they weren’t here today and at least that meant he didn’t have to deal with either of them.
Ruby wasn’t so bad, she was just snarky and always seemed to have an issue with Dean. He of course never had a problem playing into the not-so-playful banter that went on between them, but since it often distracted from their work, Benny had made it a point to keep him and her separated as much as possible.
Gordon was far worse, he was just downright fucking creepy. He had this weird look he would always give Dean, a predatory look. It was only for Dean too.
Once, Gordon cornered him in the locker room, asking him some random question about Dean’s energy drink. After Dean answered, he had just stood there and stared… it made Dean’s skin crawl. Since Benny always tried to separate him and Ruby, however, that usually meant he never had to encounter Gordon either, except on occasion.
Dean walked into the station's lounge and saw Benny sitting on the couch.
“Hey, Chief,” Benny greeted, his thick Cajun accent rolling sweetly off his tongue.
“Mornin,’” Dean grunted a reply as he dragged his feet along. He was moving slowly, limbs sluggish. It was obvious he was tired.
“Bad night?”
Bad night? Try best night of his life.
Dean set his stuff on the top of the couch temporarily, giving his shoulder a break.
“Um…” He let out a short breath, “The opposite actually.”
“Oh?” Benny drew out the remark, “Look at you. That’s the first time you’ve been laid in… how long?”
Dean pointed a finger at his friend, “Shut up.” He knew he was joking but the comment still made him feel a little self conscious, especially considering his last hook up was actually with Benny about two months ago. He had shit to do, what could he say?
Benny made a clicking sound and shook his head, “Our little boy’s growing up, eh Singer?”
An older man stepped out from behind the half wall of the kitchen, Dean hadn’t noticed his presence before. He stood straight up when his supervisor walked into the room.
“That he has.” Singer raised one eyebrow.
Dean cleared his throat, “Oh, uh…hey, Bobby.”
He usually felt comfortable using his supervisor's first name, he did it all the time. He had known Bobby since he was a kid, he was like a second father to him and Sam—or more like the only real father they ever had. He was also the reason Dean became an EMT in the first place.
Despite their close relationship, however, Bobby never went easy on him, expecting the same hard work and dedication from him as from anyone else on the team, if not more.
So when his grumpy surrogate father responded with a “Don’t ‘Bobby’ me,” Dean was hardly surprised.
He had a bad feeling Bobby was gonna be upset the minute Cas had told him he’d given Dean three days off, it was like torture waiting for today, knowing he was inevitably gonna get told off. It was mostly out of sympathy of course—the man hated John more than Sam did, probably—but he also knew Dean could have handled it better.
“What in hell’s name were you thinking, boy?”
Dean looked down ashamed. He hated disappointing his real dad, but Bobby? Somehow that was even worse. “I wasn’t.”
“Well, ain’t that clear as day.” Bobby sighed, “I don’t want to see that behavior ever again, do you hear me?”
Dean stood up straight, shoulders back, “Yes, Sir,” was the only appropriate reply.
“Good.” Deciding the conversation was over, Bobby turned back around and headed towards his office. “Oh, and you’re on truck wash duty.” He called over his shoulder.
Dean’s eyes went wide, “All of them?”
Bobby stopped abruptly, turning back around slightly, “No, just y’all’s.” His tone was lighter.
Dean hesitated with his mouth open, not sure if Bobby was being sarcastic or not—
“Goddamnit, of course I mean all of em!”
“Yep, got it.” Dean responded quickly.
He could see Benny trying to hold back a laugh as Bobby walked back to his office. Once the older man was out of earshot, he looked up at Dean from his place on the couch.
“You know he’s just worried about you, right?”
“Yeah I know,” Dean mumbled, picking up his stuff and heading to the locker room.
—
Dean was glad he had taken a shower at home—unfortunately, he’ll probably end up taking another before the day is over. He just hated the showers in the station. It’s not that they weren’t clean, but they had a musty outdated smell and look to them—in fact, the whole station did. It had that early 90’s yellowish lighting and beige walls with brick on the outside. All the ambulances and equipment were up to date, of course, but the county didn’t seem too keen on keeping the station itself up to par.
Thankfully, he had a locker all to himself—one that he always made sure was kept clean. He tossed his bag inside, setting it up vertically so it would fit. Then he checked his pockets for his phone and keys and headed out to the bay for a rig check.
Dean loved doing the rig checks. It’s not like he had much of a choice anyway considering Benny was the assistant supervisor of the station, and along with being the paramedic of their unit, already had a lot on his plate. But Dean never complained about doing the more mundane tasks, it helped the day go by quicker.
After walking into the bay, Dean unlocked their truck, got in the driver’s seat, and started the engine. A rig check consisted of two things: first, making sure the truck itself was working—checking the engine, lights, sirens, transmission fluid, etc. As a car lover, that was Dean’s favorite part. Then he was required to check all the bags and equipment that they kept in the truck. He went through every pocket, taking every tool and piece of medical equipment out and inspecting it to make sure it was working properly.
The second part was much more time-consuming. It took Dean about 40 minutes to do the entire rig check, and once he had finished he heard his stomach growl. Realizing it was time for more food he headed back inside.
Upon opening the door, Dean was greeted with two new voices. He walked into the kitchen and saw a woman with light blonde hair stuffing her mouth with a donut.
“Ohmf—Hey, Dea—“ She tried to say with her mouth full.
Dean smiled and shook his head, eyebrows pinched up in concern, “Didn’t anybody teach you manners? Close your damn mouth when you eat.”
Jo shrugged.
“You want some?” Ash, who was sitting at the bar of the half wall, gestured to a box of glazed donuts sitting on the counter.
“Uh…” He did kind of want some, but he probably shouldn’t considering all the food he had packed.
What the hell.
“Yeah, sure.” He sauntered over to the counter, picking up the sticky pastry and bringing it to his mouth. He moaned as he chewed the first bite.
Jo wiped her mouth with a napkin, “You two need a room?”
He threw her a glare, but not wanting to break his own rules about talking with his mouth full, he said nothing.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, eating their donuts and drinking their coffee lazily. It was about 9:15 am now, and they hadn’t gotten a call yet. The days they had fewer calls were good and bad, they were good because that meant fewer people were hurt and in need of help, but they were also bad because they made the day go by so much slower. Bobby had plenty of chores for them to do in case they got bored, but you could only clean the kitchen so many times before it became redundant.
Finally, Jo interrupted the silence, “So how was your little vacay?” There was a smirk in her voice.
He rolled his eyes, “Alright, shut it.” He knew Jo could never pass up an opportunity to poke fun at him.
“I mean, three days off? I can barely get Singer to sign off on one day for me. You must be really special.”
If it had been anyone else saying this to Dean, they already would’ve been punched in the face. But Jo was like a little sister to Dean, and she took her job of annoying him like one, very seriously—And honestly, it reminded him of Sam, so he didn’t mind.
“Yeah, well what can I say? I’m just his favorite.”
Jo scoffed, “Yeah, right.”
Ash interjected, “What? Do you think you’re his favorite?” He looked at Jo.
“Well… maybe. I mean, he does let me get away with a ton of shit.”
“And he doesn’t let Dean too?” Ash pointed out.
Dean threw up an arm, “Well, I personally think his fav is Benny. I mean he’s the only one that doesn’t drive him up the wall.”
“Wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Bobby walked into the kitchen. His gaze never wavering from the papers he was currently holding. He headed straight for the coffee pot.
The group looked amongst themselves, close to snickering.
Jo tested the waters, “Soooo…then who’s your favorite?” she asked as sweetly as she could.
Bobby replied flatly, “I love all my children equally.”
The three of them chuckled.
They really were like a family—minus Ruby and Gordon, of course.
Bobby had this way with the team, he was rough and commanding at times, but only because he knew he had to keep them in line. At other times he was a much more gentle father figure. He was humorous and soft, even though he would never admit it.
Dean was glad he had found this job and this family. Even if they never hung out that much outside of work, he was eternally grateful for the time they did get to spend together.
Screw his father for ever calling this job a bad thing.
Bobby poured his coffee and turned around to face his aforementioned children. He took a sip from the steaming mug, “Dean, shouldn’t you be out washing the trucks?” He asked.
“Uh, yeah. Just came in to get some food. I’ll be right on it.”
Jo ruffled his hair as he walked back to the entrance of the bay.
“Try not to have too much fun!” She shouted. He threw up a middle finger.
—
Once Dean had finished, he had all five trucks lined up in a row, sparkling in the sun with the evidence of his hard work.
He was wiping his hands on a rag when Benny came in, walking right up next to Dean. He crossed his arms, admiring the clean trucks.
“Well, I gotta say brother, you didn’t do half bad.”
Dean gave him a concerned side glance. He looked around the bay to make sure they were alone and then leaned in, “Dude, don’t call me brother when you’ve literally had your cock up my ass.” He whispered harshly.
It’s not like Dean was afraid of his team knowing about his sexual preferences, but more that them knowing about him and Benny messing around occasionally would cause an onslaught of non-stop teasing from Jo—and practically everyone else.
Benny laughed so hard he had to grab onto Dean’s shoulder for support. After he came down from the giggle fit he sighed, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
A loud noise began ringing through the whole station and a woman’s voice came through the speakers, “Dispatch to MMT—Unit Alpha 107 needed in Blue Summit. Minor patient with an allergic reaction. Details have been sent to the monitor.”
Once they heard their unit number, Dean and Benny were in their truck in record time. The call was transferred inside the ambulance and they headed towards the address displayed on the monitor.
The dispatcher continued to give them details about the patient: They were a six-year-old boy showing signs of an allergic reaction after eating food containing shellfish. They had swelling around the neck along with hives. No trouble breathing quite yet.
Although he never showed it, calls with kids always made Dean extra nervous. He had a soft spot for children and made sure he was on his absolute A-game whenever they took a call with a minor patient.
It took them 8 minutes to get to their intended location. The dispatcher had informed them that the patient was in the kitchen towards the front of the house, so once they were in park, Benny hopped out and headed in first with one bag in hand.
Dean stayed back to collect anything else they may need for the call, carrying one bag over his shoulder and the other in his right hand. By the time he made it in, Benny was already kneeling next to the blonde-headed kid who was sitting on a stool in front of the kitchen island. The mother was breathing rapidly, obviously panicked.
Benny was asking the routine questions—any trouble breathing? Any history of allergic reactions in the past? Any nausea or dizziness?—while Dean set up the Vital Signs Monitor on the counter next to the boy.
After the mother answered all of Benny’s questions, the paramedic switched places with Dean, preparing to take his vitals.
Dean kneeled down, “Hey buddy, can you tell me your name?”
The kid was itching at his neck, Dean could see redness and swelling but thankfully he was still alert and breathing. He looked shyly at Dean, “Carter…” he answered.
Dean put on a cheerful grin, “Well, hey there Carter. My name is Dean. I’m sorry you’re not feeling too good today.” He put a hand on the side of Carter’s arm, rubbing there comfortingly. “We’re gonna help you feel all better, kay?”
The kid didn’t look convinced, his mother's panicked mannerisms weren’t helping. Dean needed to distract him.
“And if you can be really brave, I have something in my truck I think you might like to have.”
Curiosity glowed in the child’s eyes.
“Think you can do that for me?”
Carter nodded his head, looking much more determined and confident.
“Alright little fella,” Benny turned his attention back to them, “Just gonna get your vitals real quick.” He put a blood pressure cuff onto Carter’s arm and a pulse oximeter on his small finger.
The kid gasped when the cuff began to tighten, “Woah, it’s okay.” Dean reassured him, “It’s just gonna squeeze a little hard, and then it’ll go back down.”
The boy looked back to Dean as though he was his only lifeline. With a determined expression, Carter reached out his hand and grabbed his, “I’m gonna be brave.”
“Yes you are.” Dean squeezed his hand.
After Benny finished taking his vitals—which were mostly normal except for a slightly heightened heart rate—he opened one of the bags and began retrieving all the necessary supplies for an IV.
“What is he doing?” the mother inquired with a worried tone.
Dean looked up at her, “He’s just getting out the stuff to start an IV, we’re gonna give him some Benadryl to help with the hives and itching.”
“Why does it have to be through an IV?” She asked.
“Well since you said he was experiencing some nausea we don’t want him to throw it up, so this just assures there’s no other complications.”
“Are you gonna put a needle in me?” The child’s voice was once again quaint and fearful.
Dean looked at him sympathetically, “Well, I’m not, but my friend over there”—He gestured to Benny—“He’s got a special badge that means he can give you special medicine. He has to use a needle to do it though, think you can handle that?”
The boy gulped but nodded slowly.
“Awesome.” He smiled.
The process went relatively smoothly, and considering the kid didn’t cry, Dean would say it went great. After the Benadryl began to take effect, Benny started laying out their options.
“Well, since he is still able to breathe just fine, it could be that this is a mild reaction and something you can easily avoid in the future. However, it’s also possible that even though this is just a small reaction today, the next one may be much more life-threatening. You have two choices, you can either stay here and just make sure to check in with his primary care doctor about what happened, or you can go ahead and come with us to get him checked at the ER.”
The mother had no hesitation in replying that she wanted Carter to go to the hospital. Dean thought he probably didn’t have to, but it never hurt to check.
They walked Carter out to the truck, leading him to the back and having him lay on the stretcher. The mother stuck close to his side.
“Hey, give me the keys, Dean.” Benny held his hand out in front of him. “You’re a lot better with kids, I’ll drive this time.”
“Okay,” He dropped the keys in Benny’s hand.
Once they got on the road Dean went over to one of the little compartments they had and pulled out a bag of stickers. It was customary for their ambulances to carry stickers or stuffed animals to help soothe a scared or crying child.
Dean picked out three, a dinosaur one, a Spider-man one, and a Scooby-Doo one. He held out all three in front of the boy, “For being so brave today, I’m gonna let you pick out one sticker, okay?”
Carter’s expression immediately lit up, he leaned in excitedly, “Uhm…. I’ll take the… uh…”
The mother gave a grateful look to Dean and he nodded in return.
“Ooo! I want the Scooby-Doo—Mommy, can I have that one please!”
“Yes, of course, sweetheart.” She replied.
Dean put the other stickers in his pocket and began opening the Scooby-Doo one, “Great choice little dude, Scooby-doo is the best.”
Carter shouted, “Yeah!”
Dean chuckled, reaching forward and putting the sticker right on the kids shirt-covered chest.
“What do you say to the nice man?” the mother asked while Carter was busy inspecting his prize.
“Oh…thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” He raised his hand for a high five and Carter slapped it with surprising strength.
—
They arrived at the North Kansas City Hospital around 12:45 pm. Once they pulled up to the entrance, Dean helped Carter and his mom exit the ambulance while Benny made quick work of getting a wheelchair for Carter to sit in.
They rolled him into the Emergency Department. Benny and the mom went up to the desk to fill in Carter’s information and to make sure everything was transferred from their unit to the hospital. Dean stood next to the kid who was currently dozing off—a common side effect of Benadryl—with his head leaning against the back of the wheelchair.
After filling out his information, the Mom walked back towards the waiting chairs where Carter and Dean were located.
“Thank you so much for your help.” She said, her tone sincere.
Dean smiled and nodded, “Anytime.”
After retrieving the keys and parking the truck, Dean strolled back into the hospital, spinning the ring of said keys on his pointer finger. Benny was still filling out some paperwork when Dean strode up to him, leaning on his side with his elbow up on the counter, “Almost done?”
“Gimme a few minutes.”
Dean sighed exhaustively, throwing his head back in complaint.
A shit-eating grin spread across Benny’s face, “If you’re so bored, why don’t you go talk to your lover boy,” He teased, still looking down at his clipboard. Unable to let him get away with such a comment, Dean nudged at Benny’s shoulder, messing up his pen stroke. His friend let out a grunt of frustration, although it didn’t last long.
“Get mad all you want,” He looked up at Dean, still smirking, “But I’m not the one as red as a fire truck.”
Dean felt the heat in his cheeks and mentally pinched himself, “You know what, screw you.”
Not caring if he had the last word or not, Benny relented, but continued to chuckle under his breath.
“Cas isn’t here anyway,” Dean explained as he looked out into the waiting room, “He has the day off.”
Benny paused, looking up with a confused expression. “Coulda sworn I heard em page a ‘Doctor Novak’ a second ago.”
His heart skipped a beat—no matter how long he had known Cas, he still got nervous whenever someone mentioned his name.
Dean whipped his head around searching for Cas, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Why don’t you go look for him while I finish this up.”
“Okay.” Dean trotted away like a happy puppy, leaving Benny shaking his head behind him.
He walked through the doors into the back and saw a few triage nurses talking amongst themselves.
“Hey ladies,” He threw on his best flirtatious smile, “Sorry to bother y’all.”
The nurses looked up from their conversation, rather unimpressed.
“Heh…uh, I was just wondering if anybody knows if a…Doctor Novak is here?”
One of the women in the group, a short black girl with glasses and a beautiful smile, spoke up cheerfully, “Oh yeah! I think they just called him up here to triage. He’ll probably be here any second.”
“Oh great, thanks.”
Dean sat in one of the spare chairs against the wall, waiting to see if Cas would show up.
Eventually, the door at the end of the hall opened and Cas came through. He was in dark blue scrubs—no coat today—and had a black headband covering his forehead. Dean thought he looked handsome in anything, but there was something about Cas in scrubs that got him all hot and bothered, he’d never know why.
Cas didn’t notice Dean, instead he just walked up to the desk in the triage area and began talking to one of the nurses who had paged him. After a short conversation, Cas nodded to the nurse and began walking back towards the exit.
“Doctor Novak!” He yelled after him, a bit embarrassed.
Cas whirled around, looking for whoever had called his name. His face brightened as his eyes landed on Dean.
He called back surprised and a little breathless, “Dean.”
Dean jogged over to him, trying not to make eye contact with the audience of nurses who were now all of a sudden interested in him, “Yeah, hey.”
“What are you doing here?” Cas tugged at the neckline of his scrubs and looked over Dean’s shoulder.
“I could ask you the same thing, weren’t you supposed to be off today?”
Cas rolled his eyes, “Yes, I was, but I got called in. One of the other Doctors is sick.” That's something Dean was grateful for concerning his job. Sure, he got called in here and there, but Cas? He was being dragged back here kicking and screaming almost every damn day he wasn’t supposed to work. Dean couldn’t say he didn’t feel for the guy.
“Ah. So I guess I’m not the only one who barely got any sleep last night.”
If Cas hadn’t answered, his under eyes could certainly do it for him, “You can say that again.” Cas laughed tiredly.
Dean shuffled, not knowing what else to say—the kiss they had shared last night still hung heavy between them.
“Where’s your patient?”
He cleared his throat, “Oh, uh, he’s in the waiting room. It’s not a serious thing, just some allergies and an overprotective mom, you know the deal.”
“Yes, I do.” Cas replied distantly.
For some reason, Cas’s expression was shrouded in nervousness. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or perhaps Dean was interrupting a busy day. He should probably go, he doesn’t want to hinder Cas’s work—but he also wanted to make sure everything was okay before he left.
“Is something—”
Without even sparing a glance his way, Cas interrupted, “Can I—can I borrow you for a second? It’ll be quick, only if Benny doesn’t mind, of course.”
“Oh sure, yeah, that’s fine—”
Cas grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the door that led to the exam rooms. Dean stumbled after him stunned and a bit scared, to be honest. He hadn’t seen Cas like this in—well…ever. He tried to think of a reason for why Cas would act this worked up, I mean, what could he possibly need Dean for that’s this urgent?
“Woah Cas, is somebody dying?” That was a stupid question, this is a hospital.
Once they rushed through the door, Cas scanned the hall, his gaze landing on one of the empty examination rooms.
Dean’s heart was beating a million times a second, cheeks flushed red. What was he doing?
Then it hit him—Cas was leading him somewhere to makeout. Dean was sure of it.
It would explain the flush beginning to form on Cas’s face and his sweaty hand that still gripped firmly onto his wrist. Jesus Christ, Dean was about to find himself in a bad episode of Grey’s Anatomy, wasn’t he?
The pair trampled into the empty room, and Dean braced himself as the door shut behind him. His eyes closed, fully prepared to be pushed into a wall and kissed within an inch of his life.
“Uh, Dean?”
He opened his eyes and saw Cas standing there confused. He still looked nervous, but much calmer than before.
Right, so Dean’s just really horny apparently.
He exhaled, “S-so what’s so important you had to drag me in here for…?”
“I—”
Dean looked at him expectantly.
“I wanted to ask you something—something regarding our agreement, a—and our scene next week.”
Dean should’ve guessed. He was always so nervous when talking to him about this shit—which Dean could never guess why considering he was the one who had Dommed professionally for the past 9 years.
“Okay…”
Cas cleared his throat, “If I’m being too forward by asking this, please let me know. I only want to suggest it because I think it will heighten the experience for both of us.”
“What is it, Cas?”
His friend looked up hesitantly, “Would you consider, possibly…” The voice trailed off and silence filled the room.
Dean shook his head, he couldn’t take this anymore, “Just spit it out, man,” he exclaimed with one arm crossed over his chest and the other thrown up in the air.
Cas’s shy demeanor immediately changed to one of annoyance. He stood up straight, much more confident than before—Dean could tell he wasn’t messing around now—
“Dean, I want you to refrain from touching yourself or coming before our first scene.”
Dean’s face was dumbfounded. He wanted him to do what?
Five seconds ago Dean could have sworn they were 4 feet apart, now Cas was stalking up to him, dangerously close. Although he stood an inch or two taller than Cas, it was in moments like these that he felt so much smaller.
“If you must masturbate, I at least ask that you don’t finish. You can bring yourself to the edge as many times as you’d like, but never allow yourself to come. Is that something you would be able to do for me?”
Well, there goes his evening plans…
He couldn’t even think of what to say, how should he even respond to Cas not wanting him to jerk off?
He wasn’t actually sure why Cas would ask him to do this, I mean, yeah it would make him more desperate—But lord almighty if he wasn’t already gonna be clawing at the seams with desperation the first time he scenes with Cas…
“I…uh—I, um…sure?”
Cas let out a small sigh, “Dean, I need a clear response plea—”
Right, right. Cas and his verbal confirmation shit. “I mean, yes. Yes, Cas, I can do that.” Dean amended, unusually calm for the situation at hand.
The corners of Cas’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at Dean, “Wonderful.”
That one word alone had Dean feeling all gooey inside. He didn’t really know why, but something about making Cas happy, simply by agreeing to do what he asked, to obey—it made Dean feel good, really good.
About that time, Benny’s voice came through the radio attached to Dean’s hip, “Hey Chief, where you at? Singer’s not gonna like us draggin’ this out.”
Broken from his trance, Dean pulled the radio off his belt and brought it to his face, “Copy that, I’ll meet you at the truck.”
He looked back at Cas, obviously disappointed they had to end…whatever this was.
“I uh, I got to go.”
“Okay, Dean. Thank you for agreeing to do this,” he exhaled, “I don’t think you’ll regret it.”
Dean reattached his radio and looked up, a cocky grin spread across his face, “Yeah, well I’m gonna take that as a promise.”
Cas stepped impossibly closer and winked at him—actually winked at him, “Please do.”
Heat once again flooded his cheeks—he cursed his genetics for being unable to hide his composure.
“I’ll see you soon, Cas.”
“Sounds good, Dean.”
—
Fuck.
Fuck him. Why on earth did Dean agree to do this?
It was the fourth night since Cas had pulled him aside in the hospital, and he was so pent up with the need to come that he was sure the slightest touch to his dick would have him bursting like a goddamn volcano.
Despite his current dilemma, he somehow managed to do as he was told these past four days, which really was a miracle considering he had never edged himself before. The first time he tried it was that night after his first day back to work. He was so tempted to just ignore Cas’s request and come, it’s not like he was gonna know anyway.
But something inside him forced him to stop. Right as he got to the tippity top, so close to falling over, his hand froze on his dick. It’s like he wasn’t even in control of his movements, Cas had just fucking possessed him and made him quit.
In many ways it felt good, even though he didn’t get to reach the glorious finish, he did what Cas had asked—to a fucking T. It better be worth it though, Cas better make him come so hard on Friday that he blacks out.
And damn, now that Dean thought about it, Friday was a lot closer than it seemed. Only two days away.
He had gotten tested on Monday, and was told the results would be in by Thursday. Dean wasn’t worried about being clean, I mean it’s not like he’s been getting down and dirty with anyone recently. But still, the closer he got to getting confirmation, the closer he was to scening with Cas—and if that didn’t make him squirm with anxious excitement, he didn’t know what would.
He still had two more nights to go though, and they were definitely not gonna be easy.
Since work had been relatively calm today—much better than the whirlwind it was yesterday—he had enough energy to mess around tonight. He debated whether it was worth it, edging himself. Probably not, but he couldn’t go to bed without doing something.
Eventually Dean decided he’d try something different. After taking a long, hot shower, he made his way onto his bed. All the lights in his room were off except the bedside lamp on the nightstand. On said nightstand, he had set out some supplies before his shower—lube, and a medium sized didlo. He may not use the dildo tonight, but he had it there just in case.
Usually Dean would watch porn or something to get off, but in recent months, all he had to do was think about Cas. Literally any scenario he could come up with was enough to send him over the edge as long as they involved deep blue eyes and tan skin.
He settled in and reached for the lube, squirting a bit on his pointer and middle finger. It was always nice to take it slow, rubbing over his hole in small circles, getting himself excited and ready. Dean imagined Cas would do the same thing when it came to foreplay—be slow and methodical, making Dean writhe with neediness. With his eyes closed, Dean envisioned exactly what it would look like—the hand between his legs was no longer his, it was Cas’s. Dark hair and eyelashes matched the heady lust washing off of him in waves. Large fingers massaged him, slipping in and out occasionally, working him open. Dean could practically feel the hot breath of his best friend panting onto his neck, leaning forward and continuing to pump inside him.
The strokes became stronger, more thorough. Cas was on a mission, determined to find his prostate and abuse it with all his might. He succeeded.
Dean arched his back as soon as his fingers came in contact with the bundle of nerves. It was exhilarating—every time he sought pleasure this way he was amazed with how intense it felt. Of course, there was always a little shame that overshadowed the sensations—he couldn’t help the way he was raised and the lies that had poisoned his mind about maintaining his masculinity. But after enough strokes—and the added help of a second finger—all insecurities were forgotten.
Back in his daydream, Cas was continuing to bring Dean closer and closer to the edge. Two fingers slid in and out, pumping faster, harder. He imagined Cas twisting them, crooking them upwards, making him feel like a melted puddle. Dean brought his hand up to his mouth and bit the flesh to silence his cries. He wished he could hear Cas tell him not to, tell him how much he wanted to hear his beautiful noises.
After stretching his rim consistently, Dean realized he desperately needed more. He reached out his left arm, blindly searching for the dildo. Once he had it in hand, he coated it in lube and brought it to his hole. This was the part of the fantasy he loved the most, the one he always came back to. What would it be like with Cas?
How big was he? He certainly gave off an energy that made Dean suspect he was big. They never brought it up though, not exactly being the type of friends who pulled out measuring tapes.
Still, Dean had the feeling Cas’s cock was bigger than his present silicone counterpart and the thought made butterflies swirl in his stomach. He imagined the burn and the stretch, how Cas would push in to the root, stopping to ask if Dean was okay. Dean would tell him he could take it.
Dean’s actions mimicked those of imaginary Cas—pushing the dildo inside as far as it could go, welcoming the strain and the burn.
Once Cas had the confirmation, he would be ruthless and persistent, nailing Dean’s sweet spot, filling him up so good—
His right hand flew to his cock. He wished he could come without it, but he hadn’t learned to yet.
The combination of his dick sliding furiously through the tunnel of his fist and the dildo in his other hand bumping into his prostrate made sparks fly in his eyes.
He just…needed…a few more…
Alarm bells went off in his head, he let out a cry of frustration, tears beginning to fall.
The movements stopped.
With fierce indignation, Dean tossed the dildo on the other side of the bed, pointedly ignoring the precum that was now sliding down his wrist.
God, that would’ve been such a good orgasm.
His mind, now filled to the brim with endorphins, thought it would be a good idea to make his plight known. Without any consideration of whether or not it was a good idea, he reached towards his nightstand in search of his phone.
Within ten seconds, Cas’s contact was covering his screen and his phone was ringing against his ear.
The voice that answered was just as intoxicating as Dean thought it would be.
“Hello, Dea—”
“Fuck you.” He interrupted, still panting and covered in sweat.
Cas stammered on the other side of the line, “I—Excuse me?”
Obviously not catching up quite yet with what Dean was trying to say, he exclaimed again breathlessly, “I said…Fuck. You.”
Cas was silent, probably still trying to put the pieces together. Finally, he did.
“Dean…are—are you…masturbating?”
Dean’s brain came back online just slightly, “…Yeah.”
Again, Cas let Dean grow anxious waiting on his response.
“And did you come?”
The sound Dean let out didn’t match the cocky and irritated attitude he put on movements before.
“N-no. I didn’t come…”
“That’s…”
Dean bit his lip, eager to hear his reply. What did Cas think about him abstaining? What did he think about him obeying?
“Good to hear. Um…I’m glad.”
“That’s—that's it?”
“Um… yes? What do you want me to say?”
It was Dean’s turn to hesitate. Well, he could think of a few things he’d like to hear, but he didn’t want to ask Cas to say it, he wanted Cas to just know.
“I don’t know…Just thought you’d be more…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
Cas sighed, “Well, I’m trying to be respectful of the fact that we’re not currently in a scene, Dean.”
Worry wormed its way into Dean’s chest. That did make sense, and it’s not something he had thought about before making this call. Fuck—how could he be this stupid, mixing reality and fantasy. He and Cas weren’t dating, and friends definitely don’t just call each other to discuss their masturbation habits.
On the other hand though…
Sue him.
Cas had brought this up first and anyway, part of him wanted to test the waters. It was a risk, but one Dean was willing to take…
“What would you say?”
“What do you mean?”
Dean looked down at his neglected cock, just barely rubbing an open palm over the top.
“If we were in a scene, what would you say?”
He really wished he could see Cas’s face, but there was something about the silence that made Dean feel like Cas was struggling. Struggling to come up with a reply because he was just as worked up as Dean was.
“I would say…”
Dean held his breath. He could hear the wanton tone in Cas’s voice.
“Good boy.”
He tried to push down the whimper that crawled up his throat, but the growl that Cas let out in return, told him he was unsuccessful. God, he needed Cas to start saying that to him all the time, like yesterday.
“That’s…that’s—um—good, yeah….I—I like that…”
Cas made an affirming noise, “So do I.”
Dean smiled, huffing out a short laugh “We’re gonna drive each other crazy.”
“I do believe you’re right.” Cas sighed out.
Neither of them spoke for several moments, lost in their own thoughts.
“I—I’m sorry, Cas. I know I shouldn’t have called, honestly I’m not really sure what I was thinking.”
Cas hummed, “It’s alright Dean, I’m glad you did.”
“You are?”
“Yes. One of the responsibilities you have as a sub is to tell me what you are feeling and being openly communicative. Obviously you are not subbing right now—which is why you can get away with using such profanity to tell me—”
Dean cringed inwardly.
“—But I think it's good that you reached out.”
He nodded even though Cas couldn’t see. A few more moments of silence passed by.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your evening.” Dean said softly.
“Alright. Oh, and Dean, let me know what your test results are tomorrow so I can give you a time to meet at my place on Friday.”
“Okay, Cas, I will.”
After Cas hung up Dean exhaled a deep breath. Now that his mind was clear, he groaned thinking about the last ten minutes. It didn’t go as horribly as it could have, but still, Dean needed to be more careful. They hadn’t even scened yet and he was already crossing lines.
—
The results came in mid-Thursday. He was clean, unsurprisingly, which meant he and Cas were all clear to scene. He called Cas Thursday evening, letting him know the news, and they had decided the best time to do a scene would be Friday at 4 pm, since they both had work the next day and doing it earlier in the evening would give them time to rest up.
It was currently 10 am on Friday and Dean was having a mental breakdown. He had six hours until he saw Cas and he had already cleaned himself from top to bottom. To try and distract from his anxious feelings, he decided to watch a few episodes of Doctor Sexy—expectedly, this had the opposite effect.
He sat on the couch in his little living room, staring up at the ceiling as his tv continued to play in the background. Thoughts raced through his head, some good, some bad.
What if he disappointed Cas? What if he couldn’t do everything asked exactly how he wanted it? What if he had to be punished during his first scene?
What did Cas have planned? How was he going to bring Dean pleasure? Was Dean finally gonna get his hands on him in all the ways he’d dreamed about?
He was also nervous about it being awkward. Sure they’re best friends, it’s not like it’ll be the first time they’ve seen each other this vulnerable—but it will be the first time they have sex.
That fact still didn’t seem real. If someone had told Dean two weeks ago that he’d be having sex with Cas, he would have laughed in their face. Now it was hours away from happening and he hadn’t really processed it yet.
I mean, they had plenty of physical chemistry, otherwise this would be significantly more awkward, but with Dean’s added feelings, it just made everything so nerve-wracking.
He just needed to trust Cas. His friend was good at this, he had a plan, and he had already promised Dean he was going to make it worth the wait, so really what did Dean have to worry about?
—
Within mere seconds of Dean knocking, Cas appeared at his front door.
“Hello, Dean. Please come in.”
Cas was dressed in black jeans and a plain, black t-shirt that clung tightly to all the right places. His hair looked freshly washed, still a little wild, but much more tame than usual. As Dean walked past him into his house he got a whiff of Cas’s cologne—and there must be some kind of aphrodisiac in that stuff because it immediately made Dean weak at the knees.
“For future scenes—or just in general honestly—you don’t have to knock. The door will always be open and you can just let yourself in.”
Dean nodded, still not trusting himself to speak quite yet.
Cas gestured for Dean to walk further inside, and after shucking off his jacket and placing it on the hook by the door, he did.
“So, whenever we have a scheduled scene, or if by chance you are over and would like to do an impromptu scene, your collar will be right here in this box.” He walked over to a table that stood against the wall closest to the hall where the playroom was located. The table was practically bare except for one candle, a pile of books, and a brown leather case. Cas unlatched it and opened the lid, revealing Dean’s collar inside.
“This is the collar you’ll use from now on. Whenever you want to scene, all you will do is put the collar on, go into the playroom, strip, and kneel on a kneeling pillow in front of the bed, okay?”
Dean spoke for the first time since he had walked inside, “Okay.”
“I—“ Cas hesitated, “I was also going to offer—if this is something you’d want—to buy a new collar for you. You can help me pick it out, that way you can choose the style, texture, and color. It could also have my name on the side.”
“Your name?”
“Yes,” Cas smirked slightly, “It would say property of Castiel Novak.”
Dean swiped his tongue out, wetting his lips. Cas really did know how to press all his buttons.
“That—that sounds good. I’d like that…”
“Good.”
He shut the box, but didn’t lock it back. Then he led Dean to the playroom. It was always a little jarring seeing it, Cad had a plethora of devices that scared—and excited—Dean.
“Here are the kneeling pillows,” Cas picked up a dark green, oddly-shaped pillow that had been stacked on similar looking pillows behind the door.
He handed it to Dean, “You’ll always retrieve one of these before a scene or if I ask you to kneel. Typically, if I take the scene outside of this room—like to the living room—I will have one ready for you.”
Dean nodded slowly.
“I never want you to kneel without one of these—or an appropriate substitute, do you understand?”
“I understand, Castiel.” Dean knew better than to simply nod by now.
Cas put the pillow back on top of the stack and turned to Dean, “I’m going to my room for five minutes to freshen up a bit. When I return—if you want to go ahead with the scene—I want you to be kneeling, collar on, and naked.”
A rush of adrenaline filled his body, Dean felt somewhat nauseous. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t…
“Is there a problem?”
He cleared his throat, “N-no. Um, I just—where do you want me to put my clothes?”
Cas snapped his fingers, “Oh, yes. Um—I usually have my subs put their clothes in here.” He went around to the other side of the door frame where there was a small cloth box. "You may put your clothing in here and your shoes beside.”
“Alright—”
“—Oh, and Dean. Neatly. Folded neatly.” Cas raised one brow.
Dean smiled, “I will.”
Cas sighed and began rubbing his hands together, “Is there anything else before I leave?”
“No, Cas. I’m all good.”
“Perfect.”
With that, Cas left the playroom, Dean could hear his bedroom door shut just a few seconds later.
Dean let out a deep breath. He quickly walked out to the living room area where he retrieved the collar and began fastening it around his neck—it felt just as good as the day Cas had put it on. After a few moments of reveling in the delicious feeling of wearing a collar, he made his way back to the playroom and started to strip.
It should probably be more anxiety-provoking than it was, having Cas see him naked for the first time. They had gone swimming together over the summer last year, so it’s not like he’d never seen most of Dean’s birthday suit, plus, he was more excited about seeing Cas naked for the first time than worrying about himself.
Once his clothes were neatly put in the cloth box, he grabbed a pillow from the stack, laid it on the ground in front of the bed, and knelt.
He wasn’t sure exactly how Cas wanted him to kneel, but since he didn’t specify, Dean wasn’t worried about getting in trouble for not doing it perfectly. He decided the best form was to keep his back and shoulders straight, head down, and arms behind himself with one hand gripping the other wrist.
Dean exhaled, mentally preparing himself for what was about to come. He must have been fast getting in position because it felt like ages before the door finally reopened.
He heard footsteps slowly stalk closer to him, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Once Cas came into view he was tempted to look up, but decided against it, set on keeping good form and making his Dom proud. Cas was barefoot, but his dark Jeans were still on.
“Look at you.” Cas’s sultry voice echoed through the room, “It’s hard to believe you’ve never done this before, your form is perfect.”
Dean blushed, smiling to himself. Internally he cheered that he had got it right.
Cas bent at his knees, squatting down, head still above Dean’s. He reached his hand out and with his pointer and thumb, lifted Dean’s chin to look at him. Once Dean looked into his eyes, all nervousness flowed out of him. Cas was still wearing his shirt, but despite that disappointment, all Dean could look at was his lust-filled eyes. He’d never seen Cas look so predatory in his entire life.
Cas continued to stare at Dean, “You’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Dean whispered out, fighting the urge to look away.
Cas gasped softly, then lifted himself to a standing position.
“As beautiful as you are kneeling for me, I need you to stand up, okay?”
“Yes, Sir.” Dean stood up, wincing a bit at his stiff muscles.
Cas turned to the chest that sat at the foot of the bed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key to unlock the latch. Once he turned back around he was holding a pair of leather cuffs in one hand and some black rope in the other.
“Since this is our very first scene, we won’t be doing anything intense,” Dean deflated a little at that remark so Cas added, “It will still be very satisfying, don’t worry. Besides, I think you’ll come to thank me.” Cas winked.
“Now, today I will let you decide. I’m going to do a simple binding of your wrists, would you like the leather cuffs or rope?”
Dean smirked, “No fuzzy cuffs today, Sir?”
Cas tilted his head, then after realizing what Dean was referencing, he matched Dean’s smirk, “No, those are for my less…adventurous hookups.”
The thought that this wasn’t just a hook-up to Cas, that they had taken time to plan and carefully come to the decision to do this together made Dean feel special, it made him feel wanted.
“Which ones, Dean?”
“Th—The cuffs, please, Sir.”
Cas looked thoughtfully down at said cuffs and nodded his head, “Good choice.”
After replacing the rope, Cas ordered Dean to turn around—he did so quickly. His Dom grabbed both of Dean’s wrists, bringing them together behind his back and attaching a cuff to the left wrist, and then to the other. They were a bit bulky, but not uncomfortable. It kept Dean’s arms firmly behind his back, which was a relief since he didn’t have to hold them there by himself anymore.
The feeling of not being able to reach out or move his arms was more thrilling than he expected—maybe suspension was in the cards…
After fixing the cuffs to the desired tightness, Cas leaned forward, mouth close to Dean’s ear, “Kneel.” He ordered.
Dean practically threw himself back on the kneeling pillow, straightening his shoulders and lowering his head. He was so ready for what Cas had in store for him, and he could definitely see where this was going.
Cas circled Dean, coming around to face him. He reached for the hem of his black shirt and lifted it, removing the garment and throwing it on the bed behind Dean. He so badly wanted to look up and see Cas’s bare chest and abdomen, but he wanted to be good and Cas didn’t say he could look—
“You may look up.”
Dean’s eyes shot up, locking in on Cas’s shirtless form. He had the body of a runner, toned and slim. His arms were a different story, however, as well as his legs. They were both firm, and more bulky—muscles that had hidden so well were now revealed, Dean’s mouth was watering.
A finger breached the hem of Cas’s Jeans. He dragged it along, obviously teasing Dean. The sub licked his lips, eyes dilated beyond belief, focused on the bulge in Cas’s pants—he was hungry for it.
“Is there something you want, Dean?”
Dean cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving Cas’s crotch, “Yes, Sir.” He croaked out.
Cas hummed, “You need to ask for what you want then.”
“I want—I want your cock, Sir.”
Cas’s grin was growing more predatory by the second, “And how do you want it, Dean?”
“In…In my mouth—please—please, Sir. May I? C-Can I suck you off—please?”
Cas nodded, “If you can get it out, you can have it.”
Dean stopped short, how was he supposed to get his pants open without his hands? Cas saw the questioning look on his face, “Just try, Dean, use your mouth. It may be easier than you think.”
Seeing no other way to get to his prize, he leaned forward.
At first he mouthed just a bit along the bulge, wanting to gauge how big Cas was—and sweet jesus was he huge, Dean didn’t even have to see to tell. He licked a stripe upwards, inching closer to the zipper—thankfully Cas had already opened the button, he just needed to bring the zipper the rest of the way down.
Cas brought a large, warm hand to the side of Dean’s head, Dean reveled in the touch. He managed to get the zipper down, revealing Cas’s boxers—they were bright fucking orange. It’s not like it mattered though, Dean still would have been drooling for Cas even if he was wearing tighty-whities.
Dean’s teeth gripped on the hem of his underwear, he pulled it down, being careful not to scrape too hard on the skin of Cas’s torso.
Once he got the fabric down as far as he could get it, he leaned back, drinking in the sight of Cas’s beautiful dick—and yes, it was beautiful. He was already mostly hard, so it curved just slightly. The veins were prominent, and the tip was wet with precum.
Dean certainly wasn’t small, he never got any complaints from his partners—but Cas was in a totally different league. It had to be at least 8 inches and he wasn’t even fully hard yet. Dean felt a surge of desire pulse through his body and drool begin to pool in his mouth.
He was just about to shove that cock in his mouth as far as it would go when he remembered.
“Sir…may I?”
Cas caressed the side of his face gently, “Good boy,” Dean shivered, he was never gonna get used to that, “You may.”
Without any further inhibitions, Dean dove in. He lapped at the tip of the cock, savoring the taste. He thought about doing this so many times, of just dropping to his knees and begging Cas to let him make him feel good. He pushed further, letting Cas’s thick cock fill his mouth to the brim. Years of practice had allowed Dean to have a good handle on his gag reflex, so he knew he could take Cas pretty damn far—maybe not all the way to the root, but he was gonna give it his best.
His head bobbed up and down, and Cas, although trying to remain firm and stoic, trembled, moaning at Dean’s ministrations. His Dom tightened his fingers in the strands of Dean’s hair for a moment, but stopped almost as soon as he had done it.
Well that just wouldn’t do.
Dean looked up through his lashes, brows turned up in disappointment as he moaned in frustration. Cas looked down and let out a sharp exhale, realizing what Dean was asking for. He returned his hand, gripping the short hairs—Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head.
They went on like this, Dean pushing Cas’s cock in and out of his throat, sucking at the tip and swirling over it with his tongue with skill, hollowing his cheeks, and Cas, falling apart above him, no matter how hard he tried to remain unaffected.
Finally, Dean could tell they were reaching the brink. His Dom was panting and groaning, hips thrusting ever so slightly, making Dean relax enough to just take what he was given. It was bliss for both of them. The sounds Cas made caused Dean’s own cock to harden, he wished he could reach a hand around to his dick and finish the same time Cas did, but not being able to was almost just as pleasurable.
Eventually Cas’s movements became erratic. Instead of one hand, he had both holding Dean’s head still while he pumped in once…twice…
“Dean…” His voice was strained, “I—I’m going to come in your mouth.”
It was partly a request, Dean moaned emphatically to convey his eager consent, and when it finally happened, Dean drank down every damn drop. He was glad this was the first thing they did together so that he could show Cas how good he was. His Dom leaned forward, pushing inside Dean as far as he could, Dean was limp in his grasp, letting Cas do with him as he pleased.
Cas’s cum poured down his throat as Dean constricted his muscles, wringing Cas’s dick for all he was worth.
“Hnnng Ahh…” Cas moaned loudly as he quickly pulled out of Dean’s mouth, a line of spit hung between Dean’s lips and the tip of Cas’s cock. Dean looked up at him, panting and gasping for air, a drunk smile was forming on his face.
That was fucking awesome.
To Dean’s surprise, Cas leaned down and kissed him. It was messy with Dean’s lips coated in cum, but Cas didn’t care. He made a growling noise as he yanked Dean’s head back, forcing his tongue into the mouth that had just brought him so much pleasure. Dean moaned and closed his eyes.
After their sloppy kiss, Cas ordered Dean to stand and led him to the bed. Arms still secured behind his back, Dean sat on the edge of the mattress, looking up at Cas who was standing in front of him.
“You did wonderfully, Dean. So good for me.” His thumbs brushed against Dean’s wet bottom lip. “Since you did your job so well, I’m going to give you a reward, okay?”
Dean breathed in deeply, he could feel himself still floating from the feelings of deepthroating Cas. He nodded just barely. Cas didn’t reprimand him for not answering verbally, understanding Dean was still trying to catch his breath.
“For your reward, you can choose any way you want to come—besides us having penetrative sex. I have vibrators, dildos, and several oth—“
Dean didn’t need to hear it, he knew what he wanted, “Fingers,” he blurted out, “I—I want your fingers, please… Sir.” He didn’t look at Cas when he asked, afraid of Cas telling him no.
“That I can do, sweet boy,” Cas said softly,
He climbed on the bed, going behind Dean to detach the cuffs from each other, but still leaving them on his wrists, “Lay down on your back, with your hands above your head up near the headboard.”
Dean laid down. The floating was being replaced with a renewed surge of arousal and alertness—this has been a recurring fantasy of his for so long. He was about to have Cas’s fingers, and he couldn’t fucking wait. He whimpered needily as his hands came together above his head. Cas leaned forward to reconnect the cuffs.
With one hand holding them down and the other gliding down the side of Dean’s ribs, he leaned in, “Keep them there. Do not move them or you will not come, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll keep them there” His voice was soft and submissive, he would do anything as long as Cas kept going.
“I know you will,” Cas leaned forward, laying a kiss on Dean’s forehead.
In minutes, Cas had Dean’s legs spread open and his hole—as well as Cas’s fingers—coated in lube. Just as Dean had suspected, he took it slowly, massaging his entrance, getting him eager. Since Dean had just fucked himself with a dildo two nights ago, he wasn’t as tight as he normally is, but Cas still praised him, “So tight for me,” his face was pressed to one of Dean’s upper thighs, Dean could feel his hot breath, “So fucking perfect.”
Dean moaned when Cas finally breached the ring of muscle. His entire finger slowly but surely worked its way in, he added another. As soon as Cas had two fingers pumping steadily inside him, Dean was fully hard, burning with arousal. He had waited for this all damn week, doing exactly as Cas had told him, now he was getting his reward.
Eventually Cas worked them up to three and then four fingers. Dean had never gotten that many in on his own and with the size of Cas’s fingers—he was so fucking full, he could only imagine what it would feel like when he finally got Cas inside him. After a few minutes he felt the beginning of his orgasm creep up on him, starting low in his gut and spreading throughout his body.
He just couldn’t…quite…
“Please!” He shouted, tears began trickling down his cheeks.
“What do you want, sweet boy?”
“Please—hgnnn—C—Sir. Please, need…I can’t…” he moaned in frustration, thrashing his head back on the bed, arms still firmly planted up near the headboard.
“You can’t what?” Cas asked headily, his fingers crooking and pushing, successfully finding Dean’s prostate and pressing against it as hard as he could, “Answer me.”
Dean opened his eyes from where they were squeezed tightly shut, “Need…my cock, Sir…” He looked down, sweat coating his abdomen, his watery voice pleaded, “Can’t do it without—please…please touch me, Sir. I’ll do anything!” He sobbed.
“Don’t worry my beautiful boy, we’ll work on that another time, I’ll give you what you need.” Right hand still furiously pumping fingers inside of Dean, Cas reached out with his left, grabbing onto Dean’s dick and beginning to stroke it.
It took no more than three strokes for Dean to come harder than he’s ever come in his whole life. His vision threatened to go dark as he lunged forward, arching his back—arms never leaving the bed.
He moaned and whimpered, eyes shut. “Th—thank…” he choked, “Thank you, Sir! Thank you…
It took several minutes for him to fully come down, his breathing leveling out. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Cas with a towel wiping Dean’s stomach and his own hand from Dean’s spend. He threw the towel on the floor, and crawled up the bed reaching for Dean’s arms. He took off the cuffs and told Dean to sit up.
“Stretch out your arms and tell me if there’s any pain.”
Dean did as he was told, “No pain, Sir. Just a tiny bit of soreness.”
“That’s to be expected,” Cas replied, “It should go away with a good night's rest.”
Dean made an acknowledging sound, but said nothing else.
Cas got off the bed and walked over to the mini-fridge. He retrieved a small purple Gatorade and a granola bar, then gestured for Dean to sit up against the headboard. He made his way over to sit by Dean’s side.
“Here,” He handed Dean the opened food and drink, “Eat and drink this.”
Dean groaned, not feeling like doing either of those things right now, “Just a little Dean, please be good for me.” That’s all it took for Dean to take a couple bites of the bar and a few sips of the drink.
Once he was finished, Cas set the items on the table next to the bed, then wrapped his arms around Dean, bringing him close to his warm chest. Dean reached an arm out hesitantly, draping it over his torso.
“How do you feel, Dean?” Cas asked softly, petting Dean’s hair.
Dean thought for a few moments, “…Good.”
“Just good?”
“Um… I feel a little floaty. Like—like I’m not all the way here, I dunno… ‘s not bad though, feels safe, good.” He mumbled into Castiel’s skin.
“That feeling you have, it’s called sub space. It’s what we aim for you to achieve when we scene, and it’s what will help you feel the most relaxed after a scene.”
“Ah.”
Cas began rubbing Dean’s back as they slipped into a comfortable silence, their bodies finding rest in one another. Eventually, Dean’s eyes grew heavy, arms still clinging to Cas’s side, Cas’s head leaning on his.
His mind was halfway into dreamland as he started to think about how perfect this was. This is exactly how life’s supposed to be, him and Cas, together. They didn’t have to be separated by anything, he didn’t have to hide his feelings.
They could be with each other like this all the time now, in love, happy.
Something sharp in the back of his mind told him not to think like that, but he ignored it, deciding to stay in the sweet bliss that was him and Cas, snuggling in this warm bed, drifting off to sleep.
He didn’t want to listen to reason, he didn’t want to because this was what he’s wanted for the past year, and now he finally had it, all to himself.
The voice came back. This wasn’t real, wake up, wake up—
The fog of sleep overtook him.
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
If you want more, let me know what you think in the comments! :)
Chapter 6
Summary:
- Switching POV (mostly Cas's POV)
- TW's: Mentions of potential CSA
Notes:
So I know what I said about the last chapter, but I ended up cutting this one in half because it was just way too long, lol. Which is also why you’re getting this so early, and why the next chapter should be posted soon!
As always, medical scenarios are fictional and not entirely accurate.
Enjoy! :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Cas’s POV)
The first thing Cas noticed was the warm feeling of another body pressed against his—legs intertwined and arms thrown over his chest. He opened his eyes.
The sight Cas was met with made his heart skip—Dean was clinging to his side, golden brown hair rubbing against Cas’s chin, the freckled skin of his broad shoulders and thick arms was exposed. He wanted to kiss every single melanated spot on his body, run his tongue between them, connecting them like constellations.
Cas continued to drift in and out of sleep with his head lolling back onto the pillow, hand still resting softly on Dean’s back. During one of his bouts of awakeness, a frightening realization hit Cas like a truck—
He was naked cuddling with Dean.
It shouldn’t come as such a shock considering he had just made Dean fall apart on his fingers no more than an hour ago. But something about this seemed so much more domestic, intimate. Almost like it was Dean and Cas snuggling, not sub and Dom.
What made it even sweeter was that he’d never seen Dean look so at peace. His face—completely drained of all worries—laid on his chest, lightly snoring. Cas cautiously ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, whispering sweet nothings. It was heaven.
When Cas eventually dared to move an inch, rearranging his arms, Dean’s brows knitted in disapproval, nuzzling impossibly further into Cas’s chest. Cas never wanted to leave, he wished he could stay here for the rest of eternity—but he knew he couldn’t. Eventually Dean will wake up, and then the scene will end. He’ll take his collar off and they’ll go back to being just friends.
As much as Cas wanted to stay in denial, unfortunately, this is how it had to be. And if Cas got to enjoy the short, albeit, immeasurably sweet moments like these with Dean, well then it was worth all the heartache in the world.
It was currently 7:30 pm. They both had work tomorrow, so the smart thing to do would be to wake Dean up and send him home to get some real rest. Cas just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
However, 15 minutes later, Dean woke up of his own accord. He groaned, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. When he finally noticed where he was—and who he was with—he froze. Dean looked up into Cas’s eyes, they were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“I—what time is it?” Dean’s voice was raspy from sleeping.
“Almost 8 pm.” Cas replied.
“Oh.” Dean scanned over their current physical entanglement.
Cas’s heart sank to the floor when he felt Dean tense up, cringing at the sight of them. He should have seen this coming. Sure, Dean was attracted to him enough to burn off some steam, to relieve stress, but ultimately he wasn’t in love with Cas the way Cas was in love with him. And so moments like these—where they looked and acted like a normal couple—were bound to disgust him and make him uncomfortable.
His beautiful sub sat up, rubbing at his arm and looking down at the bed.
“Are you in any pain, Dean?”
Dean looked up, “Uh—n—no. Just… tired.”
Cas nodded.
“I should be getting home.” He added.
The sinking feeling only grew, “Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”
Dean slowly but surely made his way off the bed, stretching his limbs when he got to a standing position. Cas followed him, rolling off the other side.
Once he was beside Dean, Cas shifted his feet awkwardly, “I’ll uh—I’ll let you get your things.”
Dean wasn’t looking at him, his jaw was clenched. The worries and cares Cas had seen drain from his face were now back in full force.
He took Dean’s lack of response as an okay to leave, shutting the door behind him.
— (Dean’s POV)
What the hell was he thinking?
Dean stood in the middle of Cas’s playroom, cold and irritable.
When he had drifted off to sleep, he had felt more at peace than he had in—well, maybe ever… There was something about Cas’s presence that just calmed Dean. Maybe it was the scene, but Dean probably could’ve conked out on Cas just as hard without having any sex beforehand. It was just easy to sink into Cas’s comforting arms and forget about the troubles of life.
But Dean was getting too needy. He can’t look at aftercare as some way for him and Cas to act like a real couple. It’s his Dom being responsible and taking care of him, that’s it. He’s imposing himself on Cas by enjoying this too much—Hell, Cas had probably wanted to get up sooner, but Dean had made it impossible by laying on him like a clingy child.
He had to suck it up. They’re not in a relationship, they’re not dating, he can’t pretend they are or this is never gonna work.
Now that Dean had experienced what it was like to be with Cas, he couldn’t fuck this up. Even if it hurt like hell, only having Cas in a physical way was better than not having him at all. It was a better way to cope with his feelings of silent rejection—and just the general everyday shit he dealt with—than empty hookups or drinking himself into oblivion.
He just needs to focus on sticking to boundaries and not letting his mind run off thinking about what could be. He could scare Cas.
Thoughts continued to race through his head as he got dressed. Eventually, he made it back out to the living room where Cas was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand.
“You seriously drinking coffee this late?”
Cas looked up from his cup, “Dean, I’m an ER doctor, caffeine has little effect on me.”
Dean huffed a short laugh and shook his head. He began idly picking up his belongings from the table by the wall in the living room.
When he was done he sighed, swinging his arms back and forth, “Well, I guess I better be going.”
Cas stood up, setting his mug down on the coffee table. He walked over to Dean, a strange look on his face as he approached.
It’s an expression Dean’s seen before…
W–was Cas about to hug him?
No way, Dean can’t do this. He can’t hug Cas and pretend everything’s okay. Especially knowing a hug would mean so little to Cas, a gesture of friendship, but would mean the world to Dean.
He took a few steps back, gaze narrowing on the dark wood floor of Cas’s living room. Cas stopped so abruptly, that his feet skidded on the floor. When Dean dared to look up he saw a flash of hurt come across Cas’s expression.
Cas looked down at Dean’s neck, clearing his throat, “Y-you’re still wearing your collar, Dean.” He pointed a finger towards his neck.
Dean’s hands quickly reached up, feeling the thin leather collar that was still wrapped around him.
“Oh…”
He reached back for the clasp and undid the collar, letting it fall off his neck and into his grasp. He turned around, putting the symbol of their dynamic back into the box, locking it inside.
When Dean turned back to Cas he was much closer, Dean tensed up.
“Dean, I—” He hesitated, “I know our aftercare was somewhat lengthy…”
Fist tightened by his side, Dean internally cursed himself—Fuck, he knew he’d fucked up. Cas was gonna tell him off, tell him to stop being so clingy and—
“…But I still feel like you may not be in a good headspace.”
Oh.
“W–what do you mean?”
“Well…I just want to make sure you’re not dropping, Dean.”
“Dropping?”
“A sub drop, it’s what can happen after a sub goes into subspace, feels a high, and comes back down. The coming back down should be gradual, but sometimes it’s too fast, causing a drop. It often makes a sub feel like there’s something wrong with them, because they think what they did was disgusting. I just want to make sure you don’t have any of these thoughts.”
Dean had never heard of that before, and while it sounded scary, thankfully, that’s not what was making him upset. He didn’t feel gross for what he had done with Cas, he just felt guilty for wanting more when Cas had already given him so much—but it’s not like he was gonna tell his friend that.
“Oh, no, I—I don’t feel that way. I’m okay.”
Cas eyed him warily, “Alright…But please—” he reached out, hand landing on top of Dean’s shoulder, emphasizing his words, “Please don’t hesitate to call or text me. Even tomorrow, I’ll make time to check my phone. Okay?”
Warmth flooded Dean’s chest. He’ll never get over the way Cas took care of him.
“I will.” He smiled weakly, “Thanks, Cas. F—for everything… I uh—”
Cas tilted his head.
“—I just want you to know that I really enjoyed this. Thanks for agreeing to do it with me.” He meant it genuinely, and he hoped Cas felt the same.
A grin spread across his friend's face, it was the first time he’d seen Cas smile all morning, “So did I.”
Dean patted his shoulder, not sure what else to do, “Bye, Cas. I’ll text you later.”
After Cas nodded his response, Dean left.
— (Cas’s POV)
Waking up this time around was much more difficult. He missed the feeling of Dean in his bed snuggled beside him. It had felt so natural—too natural—that now that Dean was gone, he already felt like something was missing.
But, duty calls.
Cas got up out of bed, heading straight for the coffee pot in his kitchen. Like he had told Dean, caffeine didn’t work on him as well as it did other people, but it was better than nothing—plus, Cas loved the warm feeling it brought to his insides, it was comforting and helped to wake him up.
He sipped from his steaming cup, letting out a satisfied sigh as the warm liquid poured down his throat.
Cas thought about yesterday evening. When Dean had left, Cas had been a nervous wreck the whole night, going to sleep far too late for the early shift he had this morning. But he couldn’t help it, he had lain awake in his bed for a good two hours thinking about everything.
He thought about the scene, how absolutely perfect it was, despite the low intensity. Typically, a scene like that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Cas, he preferred scenes that were longer and often pushed both his and the sub’s limits. But with Dean, none of that mattered. Just kissing him sent glorious shivers of pleasure through Cas’s body—and having Dean’s mouth on him like that?
Jesus Fucking Christ.
It had been both overwhelming and serene at the same time. Because Dean was so adept at getting Cas to the brink, it was clear he must have had a lot of practice. Most Doms—including himself—try to keep a more stolid countenance while doing a scene, even if they are experiencing mind-numbing pleasure. Dean had completely obliterated any and all safeguards Cas put up to hide his feelings in that moment. He couldn’t help moaning and making noises that would probably make many of his Dom friends laugh up a storm, especially since the cause of pleasure was just a blowjob.
But it wasn’t just a blowjob. It was Dean.
That’s why Cas couldn’t help but revel in the pleasure, he couldn’t help letting go, because this was what he’s wanted for so long and now he finally had it—Dean, beautiful gorgeous Dean, kneeling at his feet, eyes turned down in submission, lips wrapped around his cock.
And the best part was that he could tell Dean loved it. He had even smiled up at Cas after he’d come down his throat—Cas couldn’t help but kiss the smile off his face, even though it was covered in his own spend, he didn’t care.
Then when he had Dean falling apart on his fingers….Cas didn’t know a single human being could look so irresistible while coming. His dick made every attempt to get hard again while fingering Dean—it probably could have if Dean had lasted long enough.
And to tie it all together, their aftercare was one of the most pleasurable and calming things Cas had ever experienced. They had slept soundly and peacefully together, cuddling chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin.
It was paradise for Cas.
Not so much for Dean.
Although he had obviously enjoyed their scene, waking up during aftercare had thrown him off. Cas was worried it had been a sub drop, something that he suspected Dean was highly susceptible to.
But his friend’s reassurances that he didn’t have any symptoms of a drop, combined with his tenseness around Cas, told him all he needed to know. It wasn’t a drop, it was Cas, he was the problem. Dean was uncomfortable because he woke up in Cas’s arms with Cas most likely staring at him with all the love in the world. It's no surprise he had wanted to leave as soon as possible.
If he wasn’t careful, Dean was going to catch on and then it would all go to shit. Next time he will have better control of himself.
The sun was just barely rising when Cas finally finished getting ready. He had on his light gray scrubs with his black lanyard and ID badge hanging around his neck. His attempts to make his hair look even somewhat presentable were futile, so he decided to throw on his black scrub cap. Dean had always teased him by calling it a headband, but the jokes never bothered Cas—the cap was efficient at keeping his hair out of the way so he often chose to wear it regardless of Dean’s quips.
When Cas first began his residency training for becoming an ER physician, he tried to create and stick to a strict routine. However, he quickly realized how useless it was to try and keep a consistent schedule because of the lengths and varying hours of his shifts, as well as how often he was called in. Sure, he had days that were not designated call-in days, but still the hospital managed to drag him back, even then. It was a miracle he had any free time at all.
Now in his third year of residency, Cas had gotten used to the chaos of it all. Some mornings he slept in late, some mornings he got up well before the sun had risen, it just depended on the day. And despite his hatred for getting up early, Cas had adapted—he adapted his sleeping habits, eating habits, and overall ability to function at high capacity whenever he needed to with little resources. He was also able to somehow keep his sanity—Cas liked to think scening helped greatly with this ability.
Dean was the opposite when it came to routines and habits. His friend liked to get up at the same time—or close to it—every day, take a shower, get ready, eat, pack his things, and leave. He only knew that because one time Dean had laid out his entire routine after Cas told him he had gotten called in five times over the span of two days, Dean had been bewildered.
If, by some miracle, he and Cas were to date, their sleep schedules and general approach to routines would cause a great deal of stress between them. It’s not like it mattered, of course, because it would never happen. But Cas still liked to think about how they would get along if they lived together.
Since it was only a 15 minute drive to work, Cas took advantage of the short time to stop by a local coffee shop near the hospital and grab some more coffee for himself and one of his colleagues, Meg. Meg was Cas’s closest friend outside of Dean. She had transferred to this hospital the same time he did, and since they were both in the same year of residency it was easy for them to become close rather quickly.
Similarly to Cas, Meg had a certain offputting energy. Not in a bad way—although some people may argue to the contrary—but in the way that she kept to herself, was very blunt, and didn’t give a crap what other people thought. Cas was also introverted and straightforward, but mostly because he didn't feel like he fit in.
It was important to Cas that Meg and Dean meet, since they were both a vital part of his life. In order to accomplish this, Cas arranged for all three of them to go out to a bar one night. He expected them to get along considering their similar styles and interests, what he didn’t expect to happen was a night of Meg flirting relentlessly with Dean, and Dean doing very little to reject her. Thankfully, after their outing when Cas explained his feelings about Dean to Meg, she reluctantly backed off. They didn’t meet up very often after that, but Meg demanded constant updates about his relationship developments with Dean—which were obviously not much.
Regardless of their interactions with each other, Dean and Meg both made Cas feel seen and appreciated and if he hadn’t had them this past year, he probably wouldn’t have made it through.
It’s not like his job was particularly difficult—by Cas’s standards at least, but moving away from home had been the hardest part. This city—if you could even call it that—was so much different than anywhere he had ever lived. Cas grew up in good ole New York, New York. The constant bustle of work life and socializing had been the norm for him since birth. He wasn’t used to the quiet, humble life of a midwestern state such as Kansas. Of course, part of him had grown to like it, but the other part didn’t really know what to do with himself.
That was yet another reason why scening had helped ground him. Within the first month of moving to Kansas City, he located a BDSM club called Black Rose. It was owned by a sleazy fellow named Crowley, but he did a pretty decent job of running it.
Cas had met several compatible subs there. One in particular he often scened with, was a guy named Mick Davies. They had clicked, not only as sub and Dom, but on a personal level too. Mick had moved to the States from Britain only two years after they first met, so he was also still getting used to living in the area. They had met up a couple of times outside of the club, but since Mick lived another 45 minutes in the opposite direction from the club, their get–togethers didn’t happen very often.
As for their scening, it was marvelous. Mick was an excellent sub, a bit cheeky, but still eager to obey. Of course, he was no Dean. And that fact would certainly put a heavy damper on any future scenes they were to do when Dean decides to end their agreement.
The thought made a sharp pain of sadness stab through Cas’s chest. He knew it was inevitable though, it’s not like Dean is going to spend the rest of his life as Cas’s sub.
He walked through the big glass doors of the hospital’s entrance. North Kansas City Hospital was a beautiful building with a small but lively city surrounding it. The building itself was made mostly of brick and was encircled by green shrubbery. The inside of the building was as equally homey. It wasn’t as cold and clinical as many of the hospitals Cas had worked in before, which was a plus. And despite its down–to–earth exterior, it was still a highly qualified, acute care facility with over 550 physicians in total. The emergency room in particular was very impressive, and with being a level II trauma center, they saw several cases a day varying in level of acuity.
Cas's job as an Emergency Medicine Physician consisted mostly of stabilizing any major injuries or problems a patient may have upon arrival to the ER and then determining what additional care needed to be provided to the patient and where they should be transferred to receive that care.
Needless to say, he enjoyed the fast-paced environment, as well as the unpredictability.
After scanning his ID badge and saying hello to a few triage nurses, Cas made his way to the locker room right next to the physician's break room. He put his backpack in a locker and grabbed his white coat and stethoscope. Once he was finished, he fumbled his way back through the hallway in an attempt to reach the break room without spilling his coffee cups. Meg was already inside sitting at the table eating a strawberry muffin.
“Doctor Masters,” He said smiling, putting the latte in front of his dark–haired friend.
She replied in a smooth tone, “Hi, Clarence.”
Initially, Cas had rejected that nickname, but since she had continued to use it whenever she could, it stuck.
“Aw, how kind of you,” she said sweetly, setting down her breakfast and wrapping her fingers around the warm cup.
“You’re welcome—” he took a sip from his own drink, “—but you owe me. This is the third time, in the past…?” He couldn’t remember, “Anyway, next time it’s your turn.”
“Sure thing, angel.” She smirked. Cas rolled his eyes and took a seat across from her.
After taking a few sips of her coffee, Meg threw a smug look at Cas.
“What?” He questioned gruffly.
“Don’t play coy with me, you know what.”
Cas raised one brow, “No, I really don’t?”
Meg reached out, tapping her pointer finger on the table, “I want. Every. Detail. With vivid imagery.”
Realization struck Cas. He forgot he had told her about his and Dean’s upcoming scene—or more like she had pried it out of him after noticing his recent nervousness. Meg, like Gabriel, had no qualms discussing anything of a sexual nature. As a matter of fact, both of them thrived off gossip, especially if it also involved teasing him relentlessly about it. He often regretted even telling them about his crush on Dean in the first place, since it was usually the object of his torture—but at the same time, they were the only ones he could confide in about his feelings, and without that, Cas would probably go crazy.
He gave a dramatic eye roll, twisting his body till he was turned sideways in his chair, looking away from his friend. He took another sip.
“Oh come on Clarence. You were the one who told me in the first place, you can’t go getting all secretive now—”
“I didn’t tell you willingly, you practically forced me at gunpoint.”
Meg smiled to herself, “True. But still.”
Cas sighed exhaustively. Knowing he wasn’t going to win this battle, he relented, “Vivid imagery aside. It went…”
Meg rested her chin on her hands and leaned forward.
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Well…it was actually amazing. Up until aftercare…”
Meg scoffed, “Let me guess, you two idiots got your panties all in a twist over some naked cuddling, didn’t you?”
“I—well, Dean, didn’t seem very comfortable waking up in my arms. I think I was probably making my feelings too obvious.”
“You think? Honey, your poor little heart practically does cartwheels whenever Dean walks in a room, it’s no surprise you couldn't contain yourself while having him naked in your arms.”
Cas looked down at the table, “Do you think I messed it up for good?”
“Probably not considering he’s also head over heels for you.”
Cas snorted a bitter laugh, “There is no way Dean likes me like that. Especially not after conveying how uncomfortable he was snuggling with me.”
“Did he say those words?”
“Well, no. But—”
Meg started clapping her hands mockingly, “Congratulations Clarence, if being oblivious was a contest, you’d be the runner–up—right after Dean of course.”
Cas shook his head, “You and Gabriel have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Meg laughed, “Even your ridiculous brother can see it and you can’t. You’re so dumb it’s almost cute!” She said using her best baby voice.
“I’m never buying coffee for you again.”
His friend gave a crooked smile, “Sure you won’t.”
When Cas didn’t respond, Meg added with a wink, “Well, if you ever need a third wheel to loosen up some of that tension… you know my number.”
Cas scowled but she merely continued to smirk in return.
They quickly finished their breakfast and made their way out to one of the desks in the triage area. Jody Mills, the head triage nurse, was sitting at a computer, she greeted them with a warm smile.
“Hello, you two.”
“Good morning, Jody.” Meg and Cas said nearly at the same time.
“How has it been today?” Meg added.
“Ah, well, this is an emergency room,” she chuckled, “but not too bad. I don’t have any red cases yet, so that’s a plus.” Jody stepped out from behind the desk, rolling one of the WOWs (Workstation on Wheels) over to Castiel. He nodded his thanks, signing into the computer.
The three of them walked together to the Exam Rooms hallway. The first stretch of the hallway was the designated red zone, then a few turns and hallways later, was the yellow zone, and so on.
Jody went over the patient cases that had been assigned to Cas so far, listing them in order of urgency.
“This patient,” Jody stopped them in front of one of the exam rooms in the yellow zone, “Has had symptoms of possible Atrial Fibrillation. They experienced nausea and shortness of breath upon arrival; their nausea has since stopped, but shortness of breath has persisted. They were seen by Doctor Milton for a short period of time but we transferred this case to you since Milton's shift is over.”
Cas listened intently to all the details, nodding his head, and opening the patient file on his WOW. After Jody was finished telling him the patient's symptoms, as well as informing him of his other patient’s whereabouts, she left to do the same with Meg.
Once his coworkers were gone, the young doctor slowly opened the door to the yellow zone patient’s room. A woman with dark red hair who looked to be about 35 years old sat upright in the bed.
“Hello, there.” Cas tried to put on his friendliest smile, “My name is Doctor Novak.”
The patient, whose name was Ruth, looked up, hand rubbing soothingly over her chest. “Hi…” She replied in an anxious tone.
Cas clicked on his computer, “I see here you’ve been seen by Doctor Milton.” Ruth nodded. “Alright then…” he continued to investigate her file. “So you’ve been having some nausea and shortness of breath?”
“Yes.”
“Any dizziness or fatigue?”
Ruth shook her head.
“Chest pain?”
“Um, a l–little, yeah…”
“Okay, I’m just gonna listen to your heart really quick, then we’ll get an EKG and—ah, I see Doctor Milton already ordered some blood work to be done, perfect.”
Cas stepped around to the side of the bed where Ruth’s feet were hanging off. He took his stethoscope off his neck, put the earpieces in, and the circular part on Ruth’s chest.
After placing and replacing the stethoscope over various places around her heart, Cas put the device back around his neck, “Alright, Dear, I’m going to have a nurse come check your vitals again since it’s been a while since you’ve checked in, and then we’ll get the EKG done. Sound good?”
“Yes…but um–sir?”
“Yes?”
“Am I gonna be okay?”
This was the part of the job Cas found the most difficult—the emotional side. The truth was that he didn’t know if Ruth had a serious illness or not, at least not yet. And if she did happen to have AFib, it was going to be a chronic issue she would deal with for the rest of her life. Cas struggled to tell people news like this.
“We won’t know for sure what the issue is until the tests come back and we get your EKG complete, but no matter what the results are we will do our absolute best to help you.”
Ruth looked at him gratefully, “Thank you.”
He gave a tight–lipped smile and nodded his response.
Cas continued to make his rounds to each patient. Some of them had less serious issues, such as minor cuts, bloody noses, respiratory infections, and pink eye. Then there were some more serious injuries, like a man who had fallen off a ladder and been knocked unconscious. He had two broken ribs and a bit of internal bleeding. Thankfully, Castiel and the rest of his team were able to fix any serious issues before they became life–threatening. That patient had taken up the majority of the rest of his shift, so he only had about an hour and a half left before he could go home.
He had been running around so much all day that some of his earlier green and yellow patients were still waiting on help. Thankfully, many of them had been transferred to other doctors who were able to provide their care. One of them was still waiting, Ruth, the nervous lady in the yellow zone with a possibility of having AFib. He decided to check and see if her issues had been resolved before going back to the red zone to be ready for any incoming patients.
On his way down the halls, Cas pulled out his phone to check for any texts from Dean. It was typical that Dean would shoot him texts throughout the day. Whether it be about his job or just to send him a funny meme that Cas surely wouldn’t understand, it was customary for his best friend to check–in. Combined with the way they parted last night, Cas thought Dean would surely have texted him by now.
He was wrong.
Cas frantically scrolled back through their messages, seeing there was no new text in the inbox. Worry washed over Cas in a paralyzing wave.
Had Dean lied to him? Was he dropping?
No…he seemed fine when he left Cas’s house…surely he couldn’t have dropped—or at least, if he had, he promised to tell Cas. He wanted desperately to call Dean and make sure he was okay, but since he really shouldn’t while on his shift, he pocketed his phone and continued to walk towards his destination.
Cas knocked lightly on the door, alerting Ruth of his presence. “Hello again.” He smiled, “I apologize for not visiting sooner, although I see that Nurse Talbot has been taking good care of you.”
Ruth was now lying back on the bed, her eyes were dark underneath. She looked exhausted. “Did you get any results?”
“Yes, let me take a quick look.” Clicking on Ruth’s file, Cas read over everything that had come in throughout the day. “So with the results of the EKG, along with the blood work that came back, it does appear that you have Atrial Fibrillation.”
Ruth deflated, rubbing a hand at her forehead.
“What we’re gonna do is give you a drug Cardioversion through your IV. That should help reset your heart rhythm. We’ll see how your vitals look after that, and go from there, okay?”
“How long do I have to wait for that?” Her tone was harsh—Cas didn’t blame her.
“Should only take half an hour to get that Cardioversion going, and about the same time to see it take effect. I truly apologize for the wait Ma’am.”
Ruth sighed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve just been scrambling to have someone take care of my kid all day, and I’m just anxious to get home to him.”
“I understand.”
Ruth smiled tiredly, eyes looking Cas up and down. There was a bit of silence before she said, “I don’t mean to be forward or anything, Sir…” She started to blush, “But I was wondering…are you married?”
Cas was taken aback—women were usually very proficient at noticing his disinterest in the opposite sex, although occasionally he did have some women come on to him now and then.
“Uh n–no, Ma’am. I’m not. But I’m—”
She huffed out a short laugh, “But you’re with someone else. It’s okay, got the message.” She said it with a genuine smile.
Even more confused and shocked than he was before, Castiel wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Um…I’m not actually with anyone…”
Ruth's eyes widened in embarrassment, “Really? Oh….I didn’t—”
“It’s alright,” Cas assured her, “But unfortunately, I don’t date women.”
This only further mortified Ruth.
“O—Oh. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to assume I just–”
“Trust me, it’s perfectly fine.”
Ruth looked down and nodded her head, cheeks still red as her hair.
Cas cleared his throat, “But, if I may ask…what made you think I was with someone?”
She looked back up to Cas, “It’s just…you had this look in your face. You know, the look people get when they think about a significant other.”
Cas chewed on the side of his cheek, contemplating what Ruth had said.
“You really aren't married or dating anyone?” She asked hesitantly.
Cas laughed, “No, uh—not really.”
Another beat of silence.
“But…you are....in love with someone…?”
Cas paled, “I…”
“Don’t worry,” Ruth smiled. She leaned forward and whispered her next words, “Your secret is safe with me.”
Instead of continuing this uncomfortable conversation, Cas just smiled and nodded.
It was 8:30 pm when Cas finished his full 12-hour shift. Exhaustion sat deep in his bones, every muscle felt stiff. He had planned to go home and rest for as long as possible before his 10-hour shift tomorrow.
The problem was that Dean wasn’t answering his calls.
He had tried calling him the minute he stepped foot outside the hospital, but after three attempts, his friend still wasn’t answering. It wasn’t completely alarming considering Dean was still working, but it made him nervous. He looked down at his watch. Dean had an overnight shift, so Cas could technically just go check up on him before he went home, it wasn’t too out of the way. Dean might be out on a call, but he could at least make sure he was alright and maybe chat with Bobby a bit.
Cas decided to go with that plan.
—
It took him 5 minutes to get from the hospital to the station. It was fully dark outside by the time he pulled into the parking lot, driving his car right up next to Dean’s sleek Impala. He got out and walked inside, making his way through the open bay and into the door that led to the kitchen. It had been a while since he’d actually been inside the station, but he knew it was probably fine to come in this way.
“Hello?” Cas’s voice called out through the station. He looked towards the lounge area on his left but no one was there, the kitchen was empty too. Cas walked past both areas and headed towards Bobby’s office. He shivered at the frigid temperature of the station—he knew it was probably Bobby who kept it that way.
“Bobby?” Cas poked his head in past the door frame.
The older man was sitting at his desk, his phone up to his ear. He held a finger up telling Cas to hold on, “Well, I know that, but did you check it before you headed out?”
There was a period of silence while Bobby continued his conversation, Castiel took a seat in front of his desk.
“Alright, well just tell him to check it when you get back. Yeah, okay—bye.”
Bobby hung up the call, shaking his head. “Swear I gotta do everything ‘round here.”
Cas gave an amused smile.
“What brings you here, Novak?”
“I uh—I just wanted to speak with Dean, he wasn’t answering my calls.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow, “Maybe that’s 'cause he’s on the clock.”
“Right…” Cas looked down in embarrassment, “I um—he usually texts me, and he hasn’t at all day…I was just curious if—”
“He’s fine.” Bobby interjected, “A little sour maybe, but fine.”
Cas nodded slowly.
“As for texting you, he’s been pretty busy all day runnin’ calls. He did have some downtime a few hours ago, but I had him clean out the lockers.”
“Is he on a call right now?”
“Just comin’ back from one actually, he’ll probably be here any minute if you wanna wait.”
“If you don’t mind. I’d really like to speak with him.”
Bobby eyed Cas suspiciously, but he chose to ignore it.
For the next 10 minutes, the two men spoke with each other about work and life. It was always pleasant to speak with Bobby, especially since he was one of the only people—besides Sam—that had known Dean since he was a kid and wasn’t also a raging asshole like John. Cas could admit he took several opportunities while talking with him to get to know Dean even better.
For example, one time Bobby told him a story about Dean sneaking out of his house. The two brothers had been staying at his house for the week, Dean was about 17 years old. Bobby had just peered into his guest room to make sure they were both asleep when he noticed Dean was missing.
”It took me 3 hours to track that kid down” he had said.
Apparently, Dean had made his way to a local dive bar—the kind of place that would let just about anybody in. When he found Dean, the poor kid was hunched over a table looking like he was about to puke. A guy and girl sat across from him and another man, who was covered in tattoos and had a safety pin through his nose, was sitting beside him, arm thrown over the back of the seat looking at Dean with a perverted stare.
Bobby could immediately sense that Dean was in danger. He stomped right up to his table and yelled out his full name, Dean stared up at him scared and confused. The rest of the people at the table looked down, not meeting Bobby in the eyes—except for the guy sitting next to Dean, who looked up nervously and apologized.
Stories like that not only gave Castiel a glimpse into what Dean’s childhood was like, but it also told him everything he needed to know about who their real father was.
Eventually, they heard the sound of rigs pulling into the bay and within a few minutes, four people clobbered in through the side entrance—Bobby and Cas walked out to meet them.
The first thing he heard was the sound of Dean’s voice.
“Jesus woman, how can you forget to check the transmission fluid?” Dean said with a laugh.
A younger–looking woman, who Cas hadn't met before, stumbled in behind him, “Don’t be sexist Dean.” She snapped, but her tone was light.
“I’m not! It’s a genuine question, plus, I’m—” Dean stopped short when his gaze fell on Cas who was standing a few feet in front of him, eyes wide and cheeks probably flushed.
“Hello, Dean.” He greeted softly.
Maybe it’s because they’ve scened now, but Cas hadn’t noticed before how palpable the chemistry was between them. So thick and tense, in fact, that everyone in the room either stared directly at them or made it a point to look anywhere else but them.
Sensing the awkwardness, he added, “A–and hello, Dean’s…coworkers.”
Jo stepped past Dean, “Hi, there,” She greeted with a smile. “You must be Cas?”
“U–um, yes. Yes, I am.” Cas shook the hand Jo had stuck out.
“Heard a lot about you. Mostly good things though,” she winked, “don’t worry.”
“Mostly?” Cas recognized Benny’s deep voice, “He’s singin’ nothing but your praises near every damn day—”
“Benny—” Dean shot his friend a glare. Benny only chuckled in response, walking over to the lounge area and throwing himself on a couch.
Cas couldn’t help himself, “Is that so?” he asked smugly.
Dean turned his attention back to Cas, his own face now a slight pink. “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled. His friend took a few steps forward, adjusting the strap of a bag that was slung over his shoulder. “What’re you doing here?”
Cas rubbed the back of his neck, “I uh—can we maybe speak in private?”
The awkwardness came back in full force, everyone in the room was silent.
Dean didn’t say anything, he just jerked his head towards the bay entrance, gesturing to Cas to follow him.
“I apologize Dean, I didn’t mean to cause any…embarrassment for you…” Cas commented to Dean’s back after the door closed behind them.
Dean turned around, thankfully he was smiling now, “You’re fine Cas, you didn’t embarrass me,” Cas breathed a sigh of relief, “but why are you here?”
“Well…you said you would text me…and since you never did, I—I don’t know I just got worried…”
It was Dean’s turn to sigh, “I’m really sorry Cas. I know I said I would—and trust me—I would have. It’s just… it’s been a busy day, and I saw my Dad again this morning—”
“You spoke to your father?” Cas asked louder than he meant to.
“....Uh yeah? I had to drop off groceries sometime—”
“What about your fight?”
Dean looked away, throwing the bag that was hanging on his shoulder onto the ground. “We didn’t talk about it. He barely spoke three words to me,” Dean scoffed, “fucker wouldn’t even look me in the eye.”
There was a pause of silence, “I’m sorry, Dean.”
Dean started skidding his foot on a smudge on the floor, “ ‘s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” Green eyes looked up at him, “You shouldn’t have to put up with this.”
“It’s not like I have a choice,” Dean smiled bitterly.
Cas wanted to argue, tell him that obviously he had a choice—but it was useless because he knew what Dean would choose every time.
Still, seeing his best friend like this, it just hurt too much. Cas instinctively leaned forward to hug Dean, to comfort him—but he immediately recalled the events of last night, when Dean had recoiled at his approach. Deciding he wasn’t going to make that mistake again, he stopped himself.
Dean noticed.
“Cas…I—I want to apologize…for how I acted last night…”
Cas’s expression was firm, “You have nothing to apologize for, Dean.”
“No, I do Cas. I was nervous because—well, it’s all new to me…and I know that I—I pushed boundaries, so I was just scared you were…upset with me.”
With his jaw hung open in shock, Cas stuttered to reply, “Y–You pushed boundaries? Why on Earth would you think that?”
“Well…I fell asleep on you. During aftercare.”
Cas laughed, “Dean, that’s perfectly normal.” Dean stared at him with a confused expression, “Besides, you were only asleep for an hour or so, it’s not a big deal.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Dean looked at Cas thoughtfully, “So, are we good then?”
“I don’t see why not.” Cas shrugged.
“Good. Cool.”
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, Cas got an idea.
“I’ve actually been meaning to ask you—I know it’s been a while since we’ve done anything—you know—fun. Together. Or normal fun, at least…” Dean blushed, “So I was thinking maybe we could hang out one day next week? Since we went on a picnic last time, you can choose the activity of course—”
“—Ooo! Ooo! Can we go ax—throwing?” Dean suggested with childlike enthusiasm.
He hesitated to answer so Dean added “Come on! Please?” He reached out his hands, grabbing onto Cas’s folded arms and shaking him, “You gotta say yes, dude. I’ve been dyin’ to beat your ass at that sport.” As annoying as it was, Cas was never going to get tired of that damn smirk.
“You ‘beat my ass’ at a lot of things, Dean.”
Dean chuckled to himself, “Yeah I do, don’t I? Heh.”
“But we can do that if that’s what you want,” Dean pumped a celebratory fist through the air, “I will warn you though, ax–throwing was one of my favorite activities to do in college.”
“...you’re kidding.”
Cas smirked, “Nope.”
“Alright, big shot. Then I guess we’ll just have to see who’s better.”
This was one thing Cas missed during recent…events—the playful banter and familiar feelings of friendship that they shared. Sure, he’s always been in love with Dean, but this past year hasn’t been the most treasured year of his life just for that reason—it’s because he and Dean are truly, perfectly matched best friends. Despite their stark differences, they still managed to blend so well, and Cas would always be grateful he had found Dean, no matter how things ended up between them.
“I guess we will.”
Notes:
Next chapter should be up in a few days!
As always, I'd love to hear what you think so far! ;)
Chapter 7
Summary:
- Switching POV
- BDSM scene / smuttttt
- TW: Homophobia
Notes:
So I know I said I would post this sooner...but I ended up adding a lot to the chapter, which meant it took longer to finish than I originally thought. It is a little over 12k words though, so I hope that's enough to make up for posting late!
Also, this chapter is entirely just Dean and Cas, and about 50% of it is smut. Don't worry though, they are definitely in the honeymoon phase of their BDSM relationship, there is plenty of plot and drama to come in later chapters.
Hope you enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It was Thursday, the day they decided to go on their ax–throwing outing, and Castiel was standing in front of his smudgy body mirror getting ready to tear his hair out of his head.
He had changed his outfit so many times now that he swore he didn’t have any more clothes to try on. With 20 minutes left before Dean showed up at his door, Cas frantically rummaged through his closet, trying desperately to find something to match the occasion.
Finally, he stumbled upon something in the very back of his closet. It was a cream and burgundy colored flannel with bits of gray in it. He didn’t remember buying that? He picked up the garment, bringing it to his nose to see if it was clean. Immediately he was met with the familiar smoky scent of cedarwood and pine, combined with a hint of citrus—Dean.
When did Dean leave this here?
Had it been the night he slept over? Cas honestly couldn’t remember because of how worried he had been at the time.
Well, a flannel was good attire for ax throwing…
Deciding it would probably be fine, Cas slipped the flannel over his black t-shirt, buttoning it up to the top. He paired it with some dark jeans, and a pair of leather, lace–up boots. He sprayed some of his favorite cologne on his neck, and after combing his fingers through his hair one last time, he grabbed his things and sat in his living room, waiting for Dean to show.
Within 5 minutes Dean was knocking at his door.
Taking one last look in the hall mirror, he strode over and opened the door, “What did I say about knock—”
Cas had to physically restrain himself from gasping.
Dean was dressed in dark blue-jeans. He had on a tan button-down with a dark brown and cream-colored flannel over it, and a light blue jean jacket on top. His sunglasses sat snuggly in the v-neck of his shirt, and his dark cowboy boots peaked out from under his jeans.
Sweet mother of Jesus.
Despite clearing his throat, Cas’s voice was still gravelly when he remarked, “You look....handsome.”
Dean gave a concerned smile, “Uh thanks… I guess?”
Cas continued to stand there staring at Dean like an idiot.
“So do—wait…” Dean’s gaze narrowed on Cas’s shirt, “is that—is that my flannel?”
Cas looked down at his chest and back up at Dean with feigned innocence. He shrugged.
Dean rolled his eyes, but there was no real heat behind the action. “You could at least wear it right, ya know.”
Genuinely confused, Cas stretched out both arms and examined himself, “Am I not?”
Throwing a finger up to his collar, Dean pointed out, “You got all the damn buttons…buttoned.”
“If you’re not supposed to button them all, why are they there?”
Dean sighed dramatically, taking a few steps forward. Cas froze.
With gentle hands, Dean reached up and started undoing the very top buttons, eyebrows pinched in focus. Cas didn’t dare move, he simply stared right at Dean’s face, his gaze lingered on those beautiful lips and sharp jaw. For a millisecond, Dean looked up into his eyes. Castiel could feel the hot tension shoot through both of their bodies almost simultaneously.
Once he was finished, Dean backed up, taking in a shaky breath, “Much better.”
Cas didn’t give a flying fuck about the stupid flannel. All he could think about right now was how much he wanted to grab Dean by his collar, drag him inside the house, throw him over the back of the couch, and fuck him until he was screaming hoarse from pleasure.
“You ready?”
Cas blinked, suddenly jolted out of his daydream. He coughed the desire out of his throat, “Yes,” he croaked.
The bar they had chosen was called Blade & Timber Ax Throwing. It was actually located in Lawrence, so a bit of a drive, but they didn’t mind since it gave them a chance to catch up and get into a comfortable groove for the evening.
Once they made it inside and ordered their drinks, a staff member showed them to the designated lane they had booked for the evening. The worker, a tall, burly man in lumberjack clothes, gave them a short rundown on ax-throwing methods and safety. A few minutes later they had beers sitting on a high two-seater table in front of their lane. Dean cracked his open, holding it out for Castiel to knock into, “Good luck, buddy.”
Cas gave him a mischievous half–smile, clinking his beer against Dean’s. “You’re gonna need it,” Cas mumbled right before taking a swig of his drink.
Dean narrowed his eyes, setting down his beer and walking to the front of the lane. He picked up the medium-sized ax. His expression was stern, focused—Cas could tell Dean was determined to out-do him.
In one large motion, Dean reeled back and threw the ax.
Thud
The sharp end of the ax was lodged in the wood…
…in the outermost ring of the target.
Arms still hanging down in front of him, Dean huffed a frustrated sigh. When he turned to face Cas, the older man couldn’t help the cocky grin from forming on his face.
After retrieving the ax and replacing it on the short stool in front of the lane, Dean walked past Cas to their table. He purposely brushed hard against Cas’s shoulder, causing his drink to spill, “I’m just warming up,” he said defensively.
Cas held back a laugh, “I’m sure.”
His friend took another sip, then set the beer back down hard enough that it alerted the attention of the people in the neighboring lane. “Go on,” Dean leaned in, one elbow resting on the table, “Do better.”
“If you insist.” Castiel walked slowly over to the lane, stretching out his arms and cracking his neck—he heard Dean scoff behind him. He picked up the ax, placing his dominant hand on top, and non–dominant hand on the bottom with both thumbs facing upwards. With his feet shoulder-width apart, he leaned back, arms reaching a 90-degree angle. Then he put all his momentum forward, letting go of the ax as soon as it reached just past his head.
This time, the ax landed to the right of the bullseye in the second ring.
Cas didn’t even look at Dean’s reaction. He simply sauntered down the lane, using one hand to pry the ax from the wood, then returned it to its original place. When he did look up at Dean, his friend was red in the face.
I mean, Dean was already a competitive guy—but losing at a physical sport? Simply unacceptable to him, especially if the competition was his dorky, awkward best friend. Too bad for him, Castiel had no intention of going easy on him.
The pair of men took turns throwing the ax and drinking their beer. After the eighth time Dean hit painfully far away from the target, he whipped back around to Cas, throwing his hands up in the air, “How the fuck are you doing this?!”
Cas couldn’t stop himself from chuckling slightly, “Practice.”
Dean disregarded Cas’s response, throwing his hands down and shaking his head as he went to retrieve the ax, “fucking witchcraft is what it is.”
At this point, Cas was getting tipsy. Both of them had almost finished two beers, and since he was as lightweight as they came, the effects of alcohol were already making his head swim. Not to mention the fact that Dean had shed all layers except the tan button-down, which was now rolled up to his elbows—it was doing things to Cas. He took an overconfident step forward, placing one hand over Dean’s where it grasped the ax. “Want me to teach you?”
Dean audibly gulped, “N–no. I know how to do it…”
Cas looked down the lane, peering at Dean’s missed marks, “I know you do,” he looked back to Dean, “But I can teach you how to do it better, hmm?”
He eyed Cas hesitantly, “Fine…”
“Perfect.”
With strong hands, Cas turned Dean around to face the lane.
“W–wait, it’s your turn…” Dean pointed out meekly, tensing up under Cas’s grasp.
Cas hummed, breathing in the scent of cologne he could smell on Dean’s neck, “You can use my turn to practice,” with the combination of alcohol and desire, his voice had adopted a husky tone, “then you can try it on your own.”
Dean nodded, hands still gripping tightly onto the ax. With his arms reaching around, Castiel grabbed Dean’s wrist and guided them to the correct place on the ax. Since he was an inch or two shorter than Dean, he had to lean to the side to look over his shoulder.
“Put your right hand here…” With his own hovering overtop, he led Dean’s hand to the correct position, “and your left here.”
The more Cas directed his movements, the more he heard Dean’s breath falter.
“Now,” his arms fully enveloped Dean, grabbing the ax with Dean’s hands underneath his, “lean back,” Cas pulled their hands up into the air until Dean was practically leaning his full body weight on Cas, his ass firmly pressed against Cas’s growing erection. “When you throw—” his mouth was right neck to Dean’s neck, his friend could surely smell the alcohol coming off his breath, “let the ax go right as it passes your head. Okay?”
With a quiet noise—that sounded too close to a whimper—Dean nodded.
Cas knew he was already pushing it, but he couldn’t help his natural instincts.
“Dean?” Cas was using his Dom voice without even realizing..
His perfect sub knew exactly what Cas was silently asking—no, demanding. “O–okay, Cas,” he choked out.
With one forceful push, they propelled forward, letting go of the ax mid–throw.
When Cas looked up, he saw the ax stuck in the third ring—well, that’s better than what Dean was previously doing at least. “See?” Cas turned his head to Dean, still up close enough he could feel the heat radiating off of him.
Dean was already looking at Cas when their eyes met, without averting his gaze, he replied breathlessly, “Yeah.”
Clearing his throat, Castiel stepped away. He didn’t want to admit the amount of restraint it took to do so.
The next time Dean threw, the ax landed much closer to the center. Cas was tempted to smirk, but he didn’t want to rub it in, so instead he gave an encouraging smile. Despite the help he had received, Cas could tell Dean was much happier now that he had an idea of what to do.
They had reached the 60-minute mark of their 90-minute booking when their evening took an unfortunate turn. After an applauding throw from Dean, a man dressed in jeans, a plain black hoodie, and a ball–cap with a cross on it, stepped up to their table. “Hey, um—” He seemed nervous, not looking either Castiel or Dean in the eye, “Y’all mind keeping the PDA to a minimum? ‘Kay? Cause some of us are just tryna have a good time and we don’t wanna be seeing that shit.”
Cas was fuming when he opened his mouth to respond.
Dean beat him to it.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His voice was bordering a shout. “We’re not a fucking couple, dude.”
The man paled in embarrassment, he stumbled to apologize, “O—Oh. I’m so sorry, man. That’s—that’s my fault. We just thought…”
“Yeah, well you thought wrong.”
Cas stared down at the beer bottle in his hands, he felt something cold and sharp clamp down on his heart. After a few more hurried apologies, the stranger retreated to his own table. Dean turned around to face Cas, he was bristling with irritation.
Neither of them attempted to say anything about the situation, so they carried on for the next 30 minutes mostly in silence. Cas stopped drinking after the interruption, obviously he needed to sober up if he was gonna be around Dean in public.
His friend, on the other hand, drank even more. So much so, that he started reverting back to his bad form, throwing the ax so poorly that it wasn’t even landing in the wood.
“Alright,” Cas stepped up to take the ax from Dean’s hand, “I think that’s enough for tonight.”
Dean didn’t argue, he simply shrugged, handing the ax over to his friend. “ My arm’s getin’ tired anyway.”
After they paid for their drinks and left a tip, Castiel helped Dean out to the parking lot. He wasn’t completely drunk—Dean’s tolerance was through the roof—but he was definitely pretty tipsy. His movements were slow, and his speech sloppy. They trudged along, making it about 30 feet from Dean’s car when suddenly Cas felt a wet sensation on the side of his neck. Using the arm he had slung over Cas’s shoulder, Dean brought his mouth to Cas’s throat.
Okay, so apparently another trait of drunk Dean was horniness, great.
Any desire that Cas had previously shoved down was now surging back into his veins. He couldn’t take advantage of Dean though, not with him like this, and not when moments ago he was telling off a guy for assuming they were a couple.
Cas struggled to pull away while still holding Dean up, “Stop—Dean. What are you doing?”
Sluggishly, Dean gave up and rested his head in the crook of his neck, “ ‘m sorry…shouldn’t ‘ve done that…” His voice was small and ashamed.
Thankfully they made it to the car without scarring anyone outside. Dean slumped in the passenger seat while Castiel made his way around to the driver’s side. Once inside, he waved his fingers, gesturing for Dean to hand him the keys. Grumbling, Dean leaned forward, searching his back pocket for keys and handing them to Cas.
The car rumbled to life. Before Cas pulled away, he needed to make sure Dean was safe, “seatbelt, Dean.”
He didn’t answer, just stared ahead.
“Dean?”
Slowly, Dean turned his head—there was a pleading look in his eyes.
Cas was just about to ask what was wrong when Dean whispered,
“I—” his eyes and nose were red, “I wanna scene, Cas…p—please. Please, can we scene…?”
Cas was startled by Dean’s request, “Dean…we can’t—I mean…you’re drunk. You can’t give your full consent unless you’re sober.”
Swallowing thickly, Dean pleaded his case, “We have a 45-minute drive, Cas. I’ll have plenty of time to sober up by then…”
He still wasn’t convinced.
“Please…” Dean’s voice was raspy, “I need it, Cas…I don’t know when I’ll have another two days off in a row and… I—I’ve been wanting to do it so bad—” His head hung low with admittance.
Sighing, Cas decided to compromise. “If you’re sober by the time we make it home, then you can ask again. If we both have enough energy, then we can scene, otherwise, we’ll just have to wait until next week.”
Dean gave a grateful nod.
—
The drive back was quiet. The music was turned down as low as it would go without being indiscernible, and Dean sat unspeaking beside Castiel, leaning his head on the window. It wasn’t awkward, they were used to being in silence with one another. Not to mention Dean was already hanging on a thread of hope that they would scene, Cas could tell he was keeping his mouth shut so as not to ruin his chances.
It was dark outside when they pulled up to the house. Neither of them had work tomorrow, but Cas worked today from 5 am to 3 pm, so he was exhausted. He had contemplated the whole way home whether or not it was a good idea to scene. On one hand, he knew they both needed it—after a long hard week of working, this was one of the only ways they could unwind. On the other hand, they were both tired, and Cas hadn’t prepared to scene tonight, it would take a while to get everything ready.
It would be better to just wait until morning. That way Cas can prepare before Dean wakes up and they can enjoy the scene while being well-rested.
A groan came from Dean as he sat up, stretching his arms out in front of him. He rubbed a palm down his face and through his hair, attempting to wake himself up.
“What time is it?” He yawned.
Cas checked his watch, “It’s 8 pm.”
His friend nodded, there was a moment of silence before he asked, “So…can we scene?”
“Um…” Castiel was surprised Dean still wanted to considering how sleepy he looked just a few minutes ago. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He expected Dean to push back, what he didn’t expect was to see his entire composure deflate in disappointment, a flash of hurt coming across his face. With a quick nod, Dean pushed the door open, throwing out a leg to exit the car.
Reaching a hand out to Dean’s shoulder, Cas tried to stop him, “Dean, wait! I didn’t say we couldn’t do it at all.”
Dean didn’t react to the hand on his shoulder, continuing to make his way outside, “‘S kay, Cas. You don’t have to placate me, I’m not a kid. Just forget I asked.”
Since he obviously wasn’t going to stay inside the car to listen, Cas opened his door to meet him outside. He blocked the driver’s door, Dean wasn’t going anywhere until he heard what Cas had to say.
“Move, Cas. I’m going home.”
With arms folded, Cas raised a brow, “You’re not listening, Dean.”
“Uh—yeah, I did. You said no, message received, now I’m leaving.”
Cas could just tell Dean now about his plans to scene in the morning, but he didn’t like the way his friend immediately jumped to assumptions, he wanted Dean to willingly hear him out.
He stood unmoving.
“If you don’t get out of the way, I’m moving you myself.”
“Oh, really?”
Dean scowled.
Castiel remained expressionless.
“Have it your way.” Dean lunged forward, arms reaching out to drag Cas away from the car.
Before he could latch onto his shoulders, Cas grabbed Dean’s wrists, twisting them behind his back and whirling them around until he had Dean’s back pressed up against the car, arms secured behind him. Their faces were so close Cas could feel Dean’s warm breath—in hindsight, this probably wasn’t a good idea if he didn’t want them to have sex tonight.
Dean grunted, struggling to get free of Cas’s hold, “Hey—what the fuck?”
“Do you want to hear my suggestion, or not?” Cas tilted his head, grip tightening.
After a few more seconds of struggling, Dean relented. Cas’s heart fluttered when Dean melted in his arms, all tension seeping out of him. His head hung low, the struggle of the work week catching up with him all at once, “Fine,” he whispered while leaning into Cas.
He let go of Dean’s arms, stepping back—not too far, just enough to give them some breathing room, “I was thinking you could stay here overnight, and then we could scene in the morning. Is that something you would be amenable to?”
Dean’s face lit up with hope, “A—Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure.”
“Okay, then th–that sounds good.”
—
After hanging their jackets on the hooks, the two men walked into Cas’s living room. Dean seemed tense—which made sense considering how the last time he had stayed the night had gone.
“Dean, you can take my room again, I’ll just crash in the pl—”
“No way. I’m not taking your bed from you again,” Dean argued.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
Dean clenched his jaw, “I do.”
Cas shrugged, “Well, do you want to sleep in the playroom…?”
Clearing his throat with his eyes downcast, Dean responded, “Uh…no, thanks. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”
“Suit yourself.”
—
A long day of working, combined with spending two hours in a sweaty bar, meant Cas desperately needed a shower. He loved taking long hot showers—probably too much for his water bill—but he especially loved masturbating in long hot showers.
As soon as the warm water began streaming down his body, relaxing his tired limbs, Castiel groaned. Despite his exhaustion, he still had a raging hard-on, and the fact that he had had Dean, hot and heavy, squirming in his arms not once, but twice today, did not help.
He didn’t want to risk Dean hearing him…. But then again, Dean was tired enough, he had probably already crashed on the couch or started watching TV. Plus, he won’t hear Cas anyway because his bathroom is on the other side of his room away from the door.
Yeah, it’s fine, he could jerk off, Cas decided in his clouded mind.
Cas took himself in hand, the other hand resting on the wall in front of him. He jerked slowly at first, getting himself excited. The pleasure and desire started hitting him harder than he expected, so he began stroking himself at a rapid pace, moaning loudly. He bit his lip to silence himself, but it didn't work for long—it’s fine, the water was loud enough to hide his moans anyway.
“Hgnnnnn Ahhh…” His mouth was ajar, water dripping off his chin in a steady stream, eyes closed. “Dean…Fuck.” The name that had been running nonstop through his mind for the past 6 hours fell off his tongue in a sweet plea.
“God—fuck…Dean…”
For a moment, Castiel thought he heard something, a creaking noise. He stopped his movements, trying to listen for any sign of activity outside the door. After a few seconds passed without any more sounds, Cas decided it was probably safe to keep going. He continued to pump himself to completion, grinding his teeth together as he finished on the shower wall.
— (Dean’s POV)
“Cas?” Dean shouted to the closed bedroom door, “I need to borrow some clothes!”
No reply.
Dean huffed. Did Cas just forget Dean didn’t plan on staying the night and so he had no clean underwear or comfortable clothes to sleep in? The answer was yes if the silence told him anything. He tried rapping on the door once more, still, he was met with silence.
“Alright, if you’re not gonna answer, then I’m comin’ in!” Slowly, Dean pushed the door open and stepped inside, scanning the room. Cas wasn’t in sight, but his bathroom door was shut and Dean could hear the sound of running water.
He didn’t think anything of it until the sound of water wasn’t the only thing he could hear.
A rush of adrenaline filled his veins—hushed, but lengthy moans were coming from behind Castiel’s bathroom door.
Was he jerking off?
Another moan.
Shit.
The last thing Dean wanted to do was invade his friend’s privacy. He rushed to get a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, trying his hardest to ignore the noises.
He was almost out of the room when he heard it.
"Dean…”
Was Cas moaning his name?
Dean couldn’t believe his ears. I mean, sure, Cas has had both his fingers and cock inside of him, but this was different. That wasn’t his Dom in the shower, this wasn’t a scene…this was Cas. His friend probably had plenty of fantasies stored in his mind with tons of partners that he could reminisce about fucking.
But still, he chose Dean.
He knew it was risky—or more like just plain wrong…But he needed to hear more, he wanted to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Carefully, Dean stepped up to the bathroom door. The floorboards creaked under his weight, making Dean wince and his heart come to a full stop when the moaning paused.
Did Cas hear him…?
To Dean’s relief, a moment later, the moans continued…
…even louder than before.
Drool pooling in his mouth and dick growing harder in his pants, Dean felt a strong urge to put a hand on his erection…just give himself some friction…some relief…
The minute he reached a palm to the bulge in his jeans, the water turned off—Dean felt his soul fall through the floor.
As quietly as he could, Dean padded back through the room, shutting the bedroom door softly. When it clicked into place he sighed in relief, clutching the bundle of clothing close to his chest. He wondered if Cas had heard him? Probably not, but the idea still made him worry.
A few moments later he made his way to the guest bathroom to take a shower—and maybe relieve a little stress of his own.
— (Cas’s POV)
Cas woke up to the sound of his phone alarm. The chiming ringtone buzzed annoyingly beside his ear as he threw his arm out to press snooze. At first, Castiel thought it was just the alarm he had set for work yesterday, but after a few minutes of frustratingly trying to go back to sleep, he remembered.
He forgot he had set the alarm to wake him up before Dean—that way he could get all the scene preparation finished, and he could start breakfast. Realizing he had no other choice, Cas sat up sluggishly, eyes lidded with exhaustion.
If anything was a testimony of his love for Dean, getting up early for him would surely be the most obvious.
After brushing his teeth and getting dressed in some sweatpants and a t-shirt, Cas stepped out of his bedroom. He gasped far too loud than he should have when he looked at the couch.
Dean was sprawled out on the sofa, laying face down with his throw blanket and right leg thrown half off the couch. His hair was fluffed from sleep, and his shirt was rolled halfway up his back, revealing his tan, freckled skin. He wore black boxers, which framed his ass perfectly—Cas felt a ravenous lust spread through his body.
It was immediately interrupted by the realization that Dean was wearing…
his…
clothes.
Cas certainly didn’t remember giving him any boxers or a shirt—and now that he thought about it, he probably should have offered. It wasn’t that he was angry that Dean was wearing his clothing, it’s just…
A cold feeling caused his breath to stall—what if he had retrieved the clothes while Castiel was showering?
He desperately hoped that wasn’t the case.
Once he was finished with being a pervert, Cas sighed deeply, and began walking towards the playroom. He kept it unlocked now since he wanted Dean to feel free to go in whenever he desired, so he simply opened the white door, enjoying the cool air of the room.
Thankfully, Cas had an idea of what he wanted to do for their next scene, so he didn’t have to spend too much time getting everything together. It was another semi–low intensity scene, but hopefully a little more adventurous than their first one. He didn’t want to scare Dean, but he also didn’t want him to think that Cas saw him as a breakable doll that couldn’t handle anything. Considering Dean’s feelings about the ‘kink list’ however, told Cas that amping up the scene bit by bit was a good idea.
His younger friend was still discovering his kinky side, but Cas knew that he was a grown adult and that he would voice any concerns he had—or at least, he hoped he would.
Today, Cas thought it would be a good idea to include some bondage—something that Cas could tell Dean highly enjoyed—and maybe a teeny bit of impact play, just with a riding crop. The Dom was more excited than he’d like to admit to get Dean on the spanking bench—god, just imagining it got Castiel harder than hell.
But since this was only their second scene, Cas wanted to take it slow. They would progress to the spanking bench eventually—and hopefully to several other things in this room as well.
Setting out all the supplies he needed, including Dean’s kneeling pillow in the center of the room, took him about 25 minutes. Satisfied with his work, Cas headed to the kitchen to get some breakfast going. He knew if anything could get Dean to wake up, it was the smell of bacon.
— (Dean’s POV)
Dean was having a lovely dream of him and Cas having some fun on a king-sized bed in some hotel resort when he was rudely interrupted by the sound of his growling stomach. His eyes fluttered open, nostrils flaring as he smelled the delicious scent of bacon cooking. Using his arms to push himself up, Dean turned his head towards the direction of the kitchen.
Cas was standing in front of the stove, a towel thrown over his shoulder. He had a hip cocked out with one hand flipping the bacon and the other resting on said hip.
Dean could get used to that view.
With a grumpy groan, Dean rolled off the couch, standing up to stretch out his arms and legs. It didn’t hit him until he was halfway around the couch that he was still wearing just boxers and a T–shirt.
Oh well, Dean mentally shrugged, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked.
He walked lazily up to the kitchen island, and leaned against it, waiting for Castiel to notice his presence.
Dean heard a sizzling pop and Cas letting out a cry of pain, “Shit!” Rubbing at where bacon grease had just flown into his eye, Cas turned around in search of a towel.
“It’s on your shoulder, dummy.”
Cas whipped his head up, staring at Dean. “Good morning,” he said while rubbing the towel over his hurt eye.
“You don’t cook that much, do you?”
Cas paused his actions, a red tint painting his cheeks and tips of his ears, “Definitely not as much as I should…”
Smiling, Dean began making his way to Cas’s side of the counter, “I’ll help you out.”
He walked absentmindedly around the island, forgetting entirely that doing so would reveal his almost naked lower half. Cas looked at him gaping and dropped the towel. In a scrambling attempt to pick it up, he knocked his head on the counter, “Agh!” Right eye still red and squinting, Cas brought his hand to his head to rub the pain away.
“You okay…?” Dean asked with a laugh.
“Um—yes, yes I—where are your….pants?”
Dean looked down at his legs confused why Cas was making a big deal, until his gaze landed on the prominent bulge in his boxers.
Fuck.
He was literally having a sex dream not more than 10 minutes ago, of course he woke up with a fucking boner. Dean swallowed thickly, looking sheepishly at Cas.
Despite the frantic reaction, his friend had managed to recompose himself, looking at Dean with an expression much more calm and confident than before. Cas cleared his throat, “I have sweatpants in my room if you want to borrow some—” Cas smirked before saying his next words, “although, I won’t be twisting your arm over the matter.” Castiel shot Dean a sinful grin and winked.
Seeing no other appropriate response, Dean picked up a pot holder from the counter and chucked it across the room, laughing as it landed with a soft thud on Cas’s head.
“You’re really going to attack the injured person?” Cas gasped in a playfully accusatory tone.
Dean yelled over his shoulder as he walked back to Cas’s room, “Hell yeah!”
By the time Dean made it back to the kitchen, Cas was attempting—and failing—to crack eggs in a bowl. “Dude, just stop. You’re gonna hurt something.” He took the broken egg shells from his hand and began picking out the little fragments that had fallen into the bowl.
Cas grimaced at the slimy texture of egg on his fingers and hurried over to the sink to rinse it off. Dean shook his head in disbelief.
“So you can sew up open wounds, but you can’t handle a bit of raw egg?”
Wiping his hands on a towel, Cas deadpanned, “You can’t throw an ax, Dean.”
Dean frowned but shrugged, “Touché.” He continued picking out the egg shells, then started to mix with a whisk, “Got any pancake mix?”
“Um—” Castiel quickly opened his upper cabinets, “It appears…not.”
“That’s fine,” Dean transferred the eggs to a hot pan, “Eggs n’ bacon it is.”
After searching the rest of his cabinets, Cas pulled out a loaf of bread, “I do have this,” he held it up in front of Dean, “we could make toast?”
Dean adjusted the heat on the stove and looked up, “That’s fine. What kinda spread you got?”
Cas walked over to the fridge, inspecting the contents inside, “I have…uh…strawberry jelly…and…..that’s it.”
“Hmm, I prefer grape jelly, but I’ll guess that’ll do,” Dean shrugged.
“I also have almond butter, if you’d l—”
“Almond butter?,” Dean’s face contorted in disgust, “Who eats almond butter instead of peanut butter?”
Cas rolled his eyes, “people with a peanut allergy,” he said pointedly.
With a full–body turn, Dean stared at Cas in shock, “I have known you for over a year and you’ve never told me you had a peanut allergy?”
Castiel tilted his head, looking at Dean as if he had just spoken another language, “I don’t.”
Dean clamped his jaw shut, eyebrows and mouth turned down in a frown, “I hate you.”
—
“Mmm,” Dean moaned as he chewed on his crispy piece of bacon.
Castiel eyed him with concern, “What is it with you and making…unnatural noises while eating food?”
He finished swallowing before answering Cas, “Okay, but this is bacon…literally the greatest food known to mankind, I can’t not make a noise.”
“Actually, yes you c—”
“Shut up and eat your food.”
Cas smiled, shaking his head.
They ate the rest of their food with little conversation, enjoying the peaceful morning together. Dean relished moments like these—moments where he could pretend this little world with him and Cas waking up and having breakfast together was real. He thought of how much better life would be if he could start every day like this.
Once they were finished with their breakfast, neither of them made any movement to get up to clean their dishes.
“What do you say we finish cleaning after we scene?”
With a sip of coffee and a satisfied sigh, Dean nodded his head, “Sounds good to me.”
“Excellent,” Cas cleared his throat, “30 minutes okay to freshen up and get ready?”
“Yeah,” after wiping his mouth, Dean crumpled up the napkin and threw it on his plate, “Just make sure to brush your teeth super good so I don’t taste any of your nasty almond butter,” he stuck his tongue out in repulsion.
Cas looked at Dean pensively, “Is almond butter breath really a deal breaker for kissing me?”
He hesitated, “Maybe it is...”
“Noted.”
Dean knew it was a trap but he fell for it regardless, “Well, I mean, I—I guess I could put up with it.”
Pleased with his hold over Dean, Castiel smirked, “That’s what I thought.”
With a shove to Cas’s shoulder, Dean stood up, making his way to the guest bathroom.
—
It didn’t occur to him until he was standing outside the shower, cold and soggy, that he didn’t have any clean clothes to change into. Not that it mattered since he was about to be naked and kneeling in Cas’s play room anyway. With that thought in mind, Dean finished drying himself off, brushed his teeth, and peaked open the bathroom door to make sure Cas was still in his room. Seeing that the coast was clear, he made his way across the hall and into the playroom.
He went through the regular routine of setting his belongings near the door, grabbing a kneeling pillow, and taking his place on the floor in front of the bed.
For some reason, he had a strange feeling he was missing something. He scanned the room, making sure everything was in place. Since he couldn’t seem to think of what was missing, he shrugged and turned back around to face the bed. Looking up, Dean could see some items laid across the bed. He couldn’t make out all of them, but he was pretty sure he recognized some rope lying amongst the other supplies.
He shivered in anticipation.
This time, it took Cas even longer to walk in the room—long enough that Dean’s leg’s were beginning to go numb underneath him, although the kneeling pillow helped greatly with any pain he could’ve felt. Cas didn’t look at him at first, he simply walked over to the bed, picking up a small cloth item and bringing it over to where Dean knelt.
He could hear Cas open his mouth to speak, then stop himself, looking over Dean. A flush came over him as Cas just stared in silence. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Obviously he’d done something wrong…but he couldn’t think of what it was…
“Dean, where’s your collar?”
Fuck.
Dean immediately reached for his neck, feeling for the missing accessory, “I—I’m sorry, Sir. I forgot…I’ll—I’ll go get it—just one second—” He raced to stand up, wanting to fix his mistake as quickly as possible. In the process of getting to a standing position, his wobbly legs gave out from under him. He reached out his hands, trying to catch himself.
Thankfully, Castiel was quick to react. He caught Dean’s upper half with outreached arms, “Woah…It’s okay Dean, hold on.”
Embarrassed from his fall, as well as from his forgetfulness, Dean turned his face away from his Dom, “I’m sorry…”
Cas helped him back onto the pillow, “Is there any pain in your legs, Dean?”
He shook his head, “Just…I think they fell asleep. I’m okay.”
“Good,” Cas said relieved, “I’m sorry I took so long… And don’t worry about the collar, Dean, we all forget things. I’ll fetch it for you.”
Still not looking Cas in the eye, Dean nodded.
After a minute, Cas was back in the playroom standing in front of Dean with the collar. He held it out to him. Dean paused for a moment, confused why Cas wasn’t just putting it on him, when he remembered one of the most important rules. Blushing, Dean took the collar and went to work putting it around his neck.
“Good boy.”
Without thinking, Dean’s head shot straight up, a questioning expression on his face. Why would Cas be praising him right now? When he finally remembered himself, he lowered his head.
“Look at me.”
Dean did.
“You are not bad for forgetting your collar, Dean. As soon as you realized your mistake, you wanted to fix it. That’s the behavior of a good boy.”
Dean’s cheeks grew impossibly redder, but he said nothing in response.
“Tell me you understand.”
“I—Yes, Sir. Thank you for thinking so well of me...”
Realizing this wasn’t getting through the way he wanted, Cas knelt down, cupping the side of Dean’s face with one hand, “It’s not just what I think, Dean, it’s what you are. Tell me you’re good.”
Everything in Dean’s being was screaming that Cas was wrong. He forgot one of the most important parts of scening, and now Castiel was praising him? It just wasn’t right…
But he knew he wasn’t gonna fight Cas on the matter, there was no use, “I—I’m—good,” Dean cringed inwardly, it felt like he was lying.
Cas sighed, rubbing a thumb soothingly over Dean’s cheek, “We’ll get there eventually, sweet boy.”
Before he stood back up, Cas reached into his back pocket where he had stored the small cloth item. Dean leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the mystery object. When Cas brought his hand in front of Dean, he was holding a simple blindfold. Dean let out a soft gasp.
When he had seen this option of sensory play on the kink list, it both scared and excited him. He was nervous about not being able to see Cas, but it was also thrilling to think about giving up that much control.
“I have several things I plan to use today, and one of them is this blindfold.”
Dean stuck out the tip of his tongue, wetting his lips. With a drunk stare focused on the blindfold, he nodded.
“What’s your color, Dean?” Cas said while twirling the blindfold strings with his fingers.
“Green, Sir.” His voice was meek.
Cas stood up, “Stand please—but slowly.”
Dean did as he was told, rising carefully to his feet. With firm hands, Cas turned him around. A deep sigh left his chest as Cas brought the blindfold up to his face. He closed his eyes, accepting the darkness that now covered them. It wasn’t as nerve wracking as he thought it might be, but then again the scene had just started.
A warm breath sent shivers up Dean’s neck, “Thank you for giving yourself to me. You truly are stunning.”
Dean trembled in Cas’s grasp, a low whine sounding in the back of his throat. His Dom turned him around and took him by the hands, guiding him to the bed. “Before we begin, I will tell you how this is going to go.”
“Okay, Sir…” Dean tried to speak to where he heard Cas’s voice.
“I am going to tie your forearms in rope bondage and attach them to the suspension points above my bed—”
Dean inhaled sharply, opening his mouth to speak but didn’t in fear of stepping out of line. His Dom noticed his hesitancy.
“Don’t worry, you will still be on the bed, your arms will just be raised above you.”
He sighed in relief.
“There are two other things I will be using for the scene today. Nipple clamps and a riding crop. I will not use them until I am finished tying your rope bondage and I will warn you again before I use them.”
The bondage sounded highly appealing to Dean. Which wasn’t surprising considering it’s been his favorite aspect of their scening so far—well beside sleeping with Cas of course. It was obvious Cas had caught onto his love of being tied up rather quickly, which Dean was thankful for, that way he didn’t have to ask for it himself.
“What’s your color my sweet boy?” His voice was as sweet as honey, but as sharp as a razor.
Dean whimpered, “Green, Sir...”
“Good, then I want you to get up on the bed and kneel in the middle, hands in your lap.”
The sub did his best to crawl on the bed without his eyesight. He found what he believed to be the middle, kneeling obediently there with his hands on his thighs. He heard the sound of Cas taking his clothes off, and then what he suspected to be the sound of Castiel messing with the rope, imagining what Cas looked like unraveling the rope already had Dean’s dick stirring to life.
“Stick your arms out in front of you, palms facing down.” His Dom ordered.
In a matter of minutes Cas had the sleek rope intricately laced around his forearms. It wasn’t too tight, but it was tight enough that Dean couldn’t bring his arms apart, or move his hands—just how he liked it. The bed dipped as Cas stood on his feet, pulling Dean’s arms up by the end of the rope that stuck out. Using that end, he attached it to the hooks that hung on his ceilings.
The end result left Dean on his knees, arms lifted above his head.
Dean could only imagine what he looked like—kneeling in the middle of a bed, arms bound above him, blindfolded with his back arched sinfully. The thought made him audibly moan.
It was loud enough that Cas must have heard, because he groaned in return, hands sliding down Dean’s sides, coming to his ass to give a solid squeeze. “You are perfection,” he growled.
Without thinking, Dean instinctively leaned forward in search of Cas’s mouth. To his relief, Cas didn’t reprimand the demanding action, he graciously leaned in, bringing his mouth to Dean’s. The touch of their lips was enough to cure Dean of any nerves he previously had, every time Cas stuck a seeking tongue into his mouth, he fell a little deeper under Castiel’s control.
Not being able to move or see, giving almost all his sensations over to Cas—it was amazing. Instead of feeling trapped, he felt free. Cas owned every part of him, he could do whatever he wanted to Dean…
…and Dean would love every second of it.
— (Cas’s POV)
Cas was sure he’d never been more turned on in his entire fucking life. Having Dean like this—tied up in his bed, blindfolded, and squirming with eager excitement—it was a dream. When his beautiful sub had leaned in for a kiss without asking, Cas couldn’t help himself from giving Dean what he was seeking. And as always, Dean melted right into the kiss, almost as if he couldn’t breathe until he was breathing in Cas’s air.
Now that he had started, he couldn’t stop. Castiel left sloppy kisses all over Dean’s jaw, working his way down his neck. Once he reached the spot right under his jaw, close to his ear, Dean gave a strangled moan.
“F—fuck…”
Cas smiled, pleased he had found a sensitive spot for Dean and determined to find every other button on his body that could make him moan like that. He licked at Dean’s ear lobe, then started a journey downwards, heading toward his nipples. Every wet kiss he left on Dean’s neck made his sub shiver, head lolling forward, not knowing what else to do.
That’s one of the reasons Cas loved blindfolding his subs, it made the pleasure so intense, and with no outlet to process what they were feeling, all they had left was to thrash and beg.
Once his mouth made contact with Dean’s nipple, his sub lurched back, half moaning half screaming, “Sir!—”
Cas let his tongue twirl around the pink bud, then he looked up, “You like that beautiful boy?”
“Yes! Y-yes, Sir…”
“Good.”
The Dom continued his ministrations, licking and sucking on one nipple, then moving to the other, leaving little bite marks on Dean’s chest as he did so. Eventually he got to a point where he knew Dean’s nipples were raw and sensitive, just how Cas needed them to be. He experimentally caught his left nipple between his teeth, seeing how he would react.
As suspected, Dean let out a wail of pleasure, Cas couldn’t help but praise him for it, “So good for me, so responsive.”
Dean whimpered, head leaning against his bicep.
“I’m going to put the nipple clamps on now, what is your color sweet boy?”
With a raspy voice, Dean replied, “Green, Sir…”
Cas quickly picked up the clamps from the bed. They were the kind that had a chain connecting them that he could pull to enhance the experience. He attached both clamps to Dean’s sore nipples. His sub gasped as the pressure was applied.
Out of curiosity, Cas pulled the chain forward just a bit, Dean breathed a sharp inhale through gritted teeth, then after Cas stopped pulling, he whined almost as if he missed the feeling, “You like the pain, don’t you, Dean?” Dean nodded only slightly. The question was mostly rhetorical, so he didn’t get on Dean for not responding verbally.
“Just wait till I pull them off.” Cas smirked, circling a finger around the clamp. Dean made an embarrassingly high-pitched noise and blushed while Cas chuckled.
The next part was what Cas had been looking forward to the most. He picked up the riding crop, “Now I am going to use the riding crop on you. Don’t worry though, I won’t give you anything you can’t handle. Do you understand?”
Dean nodded, still panting from the nipple play.
“Dean…” Cas gave a warning while bringing the riding crop to Dean’s thigh, not hitting him, just rubbing up and down softly.
His sub rushed to correct his mistake, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy,” Cas glided the riding crop up to his side, then back down, bringing it around to his ass.
With a soft pop sound, the crop came down on his ass. Cas was sure it didn’t hurt, but combined with the fact that he couldn’t see, Dean’s anticipation of the hit made it feel more intense than it actually was. He gasped.
“Color?”
“Green, Sir. V—very green…”
Cas hummed, then brought the crop down again, this time on the other cheek. Again, Dean let out a sharp breath.
They went on for a few minutes with Cas hitting a new place every time. It was magnificent, but he still wanted to add something else to the experience. With one hand holding the riding crop, he used the other to begin stroking Dean’s dick. His sub’s reaction was immediate, jerking his head forward and teeth digging into his bottom lip to silence his noises.
Well, he couldn’t have that.
Cas let go of Dean’s cock, reaching up and grabbing his jaw, twisting his head to look at him. Even blindfolded, Dean knew he was in trouble. Bringing Dean closer to his face, Cas growled, “Don’t you dare hide those pretty moans. I want to hear—” He brought the riding crop down on Dean’s ass, even harder than before, “every,” another smack, “single,” Dean let out a ragged cry, “noise.” The fourth swat was the hardest one so far, it made a flush of pink bloom over Dean’s freckled skin.
“Y—yes, Sir! Anything…anything you want, Sir…”
He returned his hand to Dean’s dick, “Good boy.”
Dean continued to whimper and writhe while his Dom pumped him to full hardness. With the secure rope around his arms, the blindfold, riding crop, and hand around his shaft, Cas knew he was getting closer and closer to his peak.
Cas’s suspicions were confirmed when Dean begged wantonly, “God—S—Sir…feels…s—so good… need more, Sir…please…”
A feeling of fervid desire erupted within Cas. “Does my good boy need something? Hmm?”
“Yes! Please, Sir I—” His pleas were interrupted by another hoarse cry as Cas smacked the crop across the back of his thigh…at this point, Dean’s bottom was glowing a hot pink color. Since Cas didn’t want to push him too far, he focused on hitting other spots.
“What do you need, Dean?”
“I—” His voice was watery. Cas was sure if he could see Dean’s eyes they would be glistening with tears. “I…don’t know, Sir…Wha—whatever you want, Sir. I wanna be good for you…”
Cas dropped the crop, rubbing a hand soothingly over his warm cheeks, “You are, Dean. You have been very well behaved…my perfect sub.”
Every scene he’s ever had with another sub paled in comparison to this moment.
He’s had several different subs with varying levels of brattiness, ranging from extremely misbehaved to overly submissive. Dean definitely fell more on the submissive side of the spectrum, but it’s not something someone would guess at first glance. The urge to please his Dom was so strong that it honestly surprised Cas, but it also caused a rush of arousal to fill his veins.
This Dean, the Dean that wanted nothing more than to be good was the side of him that Cas felt unworthy of Domming. He didn’t deserve the way Dean entrusted himself to Cas…but oh, how he relished in it.
The snapping sound of a cap opening alerted Dean, he twisted his head, listening intently for where the noise may be coming from.
Cas poured cool lube onto his fingers, wrapping the wet digits over Dean’s dick once again. Dean moaned in surprise, then sighed at the satisfying feeling of a wet hand jerking him off. Little did he know that Cas had also lubed up his other hand.
His slick fingers trailed down Dean’s back, eventually reaching his ass that was currently radiating with heat. With his middle finger, Cas slid in between his cheeks, finding the furled skin of Dean’s hole and circling it slowly.
A broken whimper fell from Dean’s lips, “Oh, Sir…please…”
“Please what?” Cas continued to wet his entrance, sliding in the tip teasingly.
“Please…fuck—I need…need your fingers…”
Without further hesitation, Cas pushed his middle finger inside, up to the second knuckle. He continued to work it in and out, stretching Dean, all while stroking his cock lazily.
Dean was a frantic mess. He thrashed his head to the side, loud moans leaving his throat. His back was arched with his ass as high in the air as it could go with his knees still on the bed, pushing back on the two fingers that were now in his hole.
Cas scissored him open, causing his rim to loosen and relax. He let go of Dean’s cock, and instead turned his attention back to the nipple clamps, pulling on the chain. Dean was torn between the electric pain of his nipples being pulled on and the fingers that were now expertly pressing into his prostate. He was so lost in the sensations, not even using his broken voice to beg anymore, simply taking all that his Dom had to offer. Cas could tell subspace was creeping up on him quickly.
Finally, His fingers stilled inside Dean, still plugging him nice and full. With his left hand, he reached for one of the nipple clamps, “I’m going to take these off now. I can rip them off, or take them off gently—I’m going to let you choose today.”
Dean’s mouth hung open, sweat was pouring down his skin, “I—I—I… want…you—please—you choose…’m too fuzzy…”
“Very well,” Cas said softly.
Since his ass was already in enough pain, Cas decided to give him a break by gently releasing the clamps, dampening the pain.
Dean still whined when the clamps were off, the noises got even louder when Cas began rubbing his fingertips over the swollen, pink nubs. Men’s nipples are usually very sensitive, but Dean seemed to be getting even more pleasure from this than usual. To add to the experience, Cas inserted a third finger, pumping them in harshly.
At this point, Dean was so turned on he couldn’t even form words, he just let out little gasps every time Cas’s fingers found the special spot inside him. Cas was tempted to just finish him right here and now. Let him come in his hand with Cas’s fingers in his ass—but there was something he wanted to do even more, something he could tell Dean wanted as well.
Stopping his movements and removing his hands, Cas stood up on the bed to reach for the rope. Dean whined at the loss, but since he was deep enough in subspace, he didn’t question it. After he disconnected the end of the rope from the suspension point, he slowly lowered Dean’s arms.
His sub whimpered–Cas guessed it was most likely from the stiffness from his arms, “Is there any pain or numbness in your arms, Dean?”
It took a moment for Dean to respond, but eventually he looked up, eyes still covered, “N–no, Sir…jus’ stiff…”
“That feeling should dissipate after a while. For right now, I want you to lay down on your back sweet boy.”
Dean leaned back slowly, biting his lip when his flushed ass made contact with the bed. He was about to raise his hands over his head like he did last time when Castiel stopped him, “No, Dean. I want you to keep your arms in front of you.” Dean’s expression was confused, but he did as he was told.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Dean. Tell me your color?”
Dean immediately shot up, gasping at Cas’s words, “Please! Pl–please, green, Sir. So green…”
“That’s my eager boy…” Cas cooed as he leaned forward. He wrapped a strong hand behind Dean’s neck, bringing him in for a kiss. It was deep and sensual, their tongues weaved together, sharing spit and air.
After the kiss, he gently laid Dean’s head back on the bed, “Spread your legs,” Cas commanded.
Dean did so with eager enthusiasm, bringing his knees towards his chest–Cas helped him by pushing on the back of his thighs. Once Dean was spread out and open, hole still dripping from the previous finger-fucking, Cas lubed up his rock-hard cock and brought it to his entrance.
Dean tensed up, eyebrows pinched in concern. Cas knew something was wrong.
“Color, Dean?”
“I–I…Sir…?”
“Go ahead, sweet boy.”
“Can y–you…Can you…maybe…take off the blindfold…?” his voice was barely above a whisper, “Please.. I–I wanna see you, Sir…”
Cas thought for a moment, “I’ll make you a deal. I can take the blindfold off, but if I do so, then you may only come on my cock, and my cock alone–no help. If you’d like to leave it on, then I will help you come.”
Dean whimpered, Cas could tell he was conflicted. He knew it was a difficult decision, but he couldn’t just grant every wish Dean wanted, and ultimately, it turned Dean on to be under his control, to give things up.
Finally, he made a decision, “Sir…I w-want the blindfold off…please..”
That surprised Cas. Dean had been pretty adamant about not being able to come without help, so he was essentially giving up an orgasm just to be able to see Cas. Something about that thought made butterflies swirl in Cas’s stomach, “Alright, then.”
He reached forward, removing the blindfold.
As much as he loved using this particular form of sensory deprivation, he did miss seeing Dean’s beautiful green eyes. With damp eyelashes, Dean blinked up at his Dom—a shy smile came across his face. He looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself.
“What is it, Dean?”
His gaze turned down, a blush spreading over his cheeks, “It’s just…you—you’re really hot, Sir…”
Caught off guard by Dean’s reply, he laughed softly, “Thank you sweetheart.”
He leaned in, the tip of his cock pressing hard against Dean’s hole, “So are you.” His face was close enough to Dean’s that he could feel the sharp exhale that his sub let out at that response.
“Thank you, Sir…”
“Of course.”
For a second, they stared more intimately at each other than a normal sub and Dom would. The moment was gone as soon as it came once Dean averted his eyes.
Castiel continued to grind against Dean’s hips, never letting his cock fully catch on Dean’s rim. He teased him until his sub couldn’t take it anymore.
“Sir…”
Cas smirked, “Oh, is there something you want?”
The first hint of brattiness sounded in Dean’s voice, “You know what I want, Sir.”
In one quick movement, Cas picked up the end of the rope connected to his bound hands and yanked Dean’s upper half forward, bringing his face close to his, practically bending him in half, “No, I don’t think I do.” Eyes wide, Dean whimpered as he stared into Cas’s stormy blue eyes. “Why don’t you ask—no, why don’t you beg. Beg for what you want, Dean.”
With a thick swallow, Dean gave it his best, “Please, Sir! Please fuck me. Put your dick inside me, Sir…I need—I need it so bad…I want…please…I’ll do anything, Sir! Just need you to fuck me… please…” he rambled on, begging Cas over and over to fuck him.
Cas answered by giving him exactly what he needed. With one firm thrust, Cas pushed almost all his length into Dean’s wet and ready entrance.
“Fuck! G—god...”
“Just Sir.” Cas quipped.
If he wasn’t stuffed full with almost 9 inches of hard cock, Dean probably would’ve rolled his eyes at that remark.
His sub’s breath hitched with eyes squeezed shut, “F–fuck..so goddamn big, Sir…you feel—feel amazing…ahh…”
“So do you my good boy, so fucking tight and hot. Just made for my dick, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir…made for you…” Dean echoed.
“I’m going to start moving now, Dean. What’s your color?”
“So fucking green, Sir.”
Cas pulled the rope again, bringing Dean’s lips to his own, “good.”
Any control Cas had left was gone, he started moving his hips—slowly at first—and then faster, pumping his thick shaft in and out, with one hand pulling the rope that was holding Dean’s arms in the air, and the other hand pressing Dean’s right leg up to his chest.
He fucked Dean relentlessly, pounding him so hard that all his sub could do was lay there and take it, breathy moans of “unh…unh…unh…unh…” coming out in time with Cas’s thrusts. Now that he knew what it felt like to have Dean this way, Cas couldn’t help but think of all the positions he wanted to have his sub next…
On his hands and knees, ass presented in the air with his chest pressed towards the bed, or Dean straddling him, bouncing up and down on his dick, begging for Cas to let him come…for Cas to come inside him.
He was pulled from his fantasy montage when Dean let out a particularly loud moan.
“Oh…God—fuck! Right there… right fuc—fucking there, Sir…”
Realizing he had achieved the perfect angle, Cas began hammering into Dean with no mercy. His sub looked beautifully blissed out beneath him, a sheen of sweat covering his whole body, eyes lidded. Everytime Cas gave an incredibly punishing thrust, he whimpered, eyes never leaving Cas.
The Dom continued on his mission of abusing Dean’s prostate. He could tell Dean needed to come something awful, his dick was red and swollen where it lay between their abdomens—but Cas wouldn't touch it.
He could help in other ways.
He let go of the hand holding Dean's leg up and started rubbing Dean’s swollen nipples, “So—fuck…fucking good, Dean…you take me so perfectly.” Dean blushed and looked away, hiding from the praise. “You love it, don’t you? My needy bottom. Love having my cock filling you up.”
Dean couldn’t answer, too lost in the sensations of Cas utterly destroying him, but he did nod ferociously.
“Wanna fill you up, Dean…Want to fuck my come into you…Do you want that Dean?”
Another shaky nod.
“That’s what I thought,” Cas pounded as hard as he could, he knew he was reaching his own breaking point. “Are you going to come on my cock, Dean? Oh fuck—you would feel so good clenching around me—do it. Fucking come for me, Dean…”
This time, Dean didn’t nod, he simply laid there with his eyes shut, moaning.
Cas let the rope fall, burying his head in the crook of Dean’s neck. He could feel that he was close to his own finish line, and he was laser-focused on crossing it. With three harsh thrusts and trembling thighs, Cas came inside Dean. Groaning into the side of his sub’s throat.
It was so euphoric, so pleasurable, that it took Cas several minutes to come down. When he did, he finally heard the short, soft sobs Dean was letting out underneath him.
He lifted his upper half up, hand coming to Dean’s face, “Dean, what’s wrong—“ Another choked sob released from his throat, the tears streamed freely.
Dean hiccuped, “I—I—I’m s–sorry, Sir… pl—please, ‘m sorry…”
“Shhh,” Cas did his best to comfort him, “You did nothing wrong, Dean…why are you apologizing?”
“Did—didn’t come…Sir…I—I tried…” he continued to sniffle and whimper, “just couldn’t, Sir…”
The realization suddenly hit Cas right in the chest. He was so lost in his own pleasure he didn’t even realize Dean hadn’t come yet.
“It’s alright, Dean. I can help you—you were so good for me Dean. If it’s too much I’ll help you, sweet boy.”
Dean looked up at his Dom, brows drawn up in confusion, “You’re not mad…?”
“Of course not, why would I be?”
“Well…” Dean licked his wet lips, “You told me to come without help, but…I couldn’t do it.”
Cas sighed, rubbing fingers through Dean’s hair, “No, Dean, I said you could only come without help. I didn’t say you had to come.”
Dean looked down at his chest, “Oh…”
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear enough, honey.”
“ ‘S kay,” he paused for a moment, “it was good though… really good. Even if I didn’t come...I really liked it. Thank you, Sir.”
Cas smiled, “I’m glad it was an enjoyable experience for you as well.”
The Dom chewed on his lip. Dean had been so good that not only did he not try to get out of the deal, he was worried that he hadn’t held up his end. He knew what he’d said, but how could he not reward such a good boy?
“How would you like me to teach you, Dean?”
His eyes glowed with curiosity when he looked up at Castiel, “T—teach me what, Sir?”
“The joys of achieving a prostate orgasm,” Cas winked.
Dean’s mouth was agape, but he nodded.
Since his cock was still inside Dean during the entirety of this conversation, he slid out and cleaned himself off with a small washcloth he placed on the table beside the bed. He turned his attention back to Dean, who was still lying on his back—legs spread, and arms still bound with rope.
“I’m going to untie this because I don’t want your arms to be in this position for too long. Once I’m done, I can give you a lesson on coming untouched if you would still like to.”
Dean looked up at Cas shyly, “Yes, please, Sir…”
Cas nodded, then made quick work getting Dean out of the rope bondage, massaging his arms to make sure there was no pain or tension. After clearing the bed of all supplies, he instructed Dean to slide further up the bed.
“I don’t want to secure your arms anymore, Dean. So I want you to keep them by your sides on your own, can you do that for me?”
Dean gave a few quick nods, “Yes, Sir.. I can do that.”
“I know you can.” Cas said softly, leaning in to kiss his beautiful sub.
After a short make out session, Castiel leaned back on his ankles, using one hand to hold Dean’s legs open, and the other to softly rub against Dean’s perineum. His come was still inside Dean, making it easy for him to slip two fingers in his slick entrance. Since he was already thoroughly stretched, it took no time for Cas to have almost four fingers inside Dean. He pumped them inside, focusing on hitting his prostate.
All the while, Dean whined and whimpered, throwing his head back on the bed, “Feels s–so good…but ‘s not enough, Sir…”
“Be patient,” Cas instructed.
After a few minutes of massaging his prostate, Cas knew he needed to use something more intense, “Hold on, Dean,” Cas said as he got up from the bed.
When he returned, he was holding a black prostate massager, “Have you ever used one of these, Dean?”
The sub opened his eyes, examining the object with interest, “No, Sir.”
Castiel hummed, but he didn’t say anything more, he simply began inserting the toy into him. Dean made a surprised noise but it quickly turned into a moan once Cas turned on the vibrations. With shallow thrusts, Cas pushed the buzzing toy into Dean’s prostate. He could tell Dean had never experienced anything like this before. “F–fuck–Sir…Sir!...” he gripped the bed spread, thighs quivering with every movement Cas made.
He turned the vibrations up to the highest settings, eliciting a sharp groan from Dean, “Dean, don’t focus on the pleasure you feel here,” Cas lightly grazed his free hand over Dean’s throbbing cock, “Focus here,” he returned his fingers to Dean’s perineum, pressing firmly to stimulate his prostate from the outside.
That seemed to be what did Dean in. With an animalistic cry of pleasure, Dean’s back arched off the bed, his lips were wet with drool, eyes leaking fresh tears. His whole body shook with the intensity of his orgasm. A dribble of cum spurted from the tip of Dean’s dick, it wasn’t like a normal ejaculation, but Cas–who could speak from experience–knew it was a more intense feeling than any penile orgasm he ever had.
A string of “Sir..” fell from Dean’s lips as he came down from the peak.
“That’s such a good boy, I knew you could do it. So good for me…” Cas kissed the side of Dean’s thigh, removing the prostate massager before it caused any over-sensitivity.
Dean continued to pant, as he laid his back down on the mattress. After a few minutes of catching his breath, he looked at Cas, “That…was fucking amazing, Sir…”
Cas smirked down at him, “I know.”
While Cas cleaned Dean up, his sub gave a contented sigh, “Focusing on the sensations really helped me…I think…I think I can do it on my own now. Maybe…”
“Even if you can’t, Dean, it’s alright. Not everyone has the ability, and sometimes they need something a little more intense than just a normal fucking.”
Dean smiled, “I dunno, Sir, your fucking is pretty damn intense.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Cas laughed softly.
— (Dean’s POV)
Aftercare was much better this time around. They still snuggled in the bed, bare skin pressed against each other, but Dean wasn’t sleepy like he was last time, so there was no fear of losing consciousness and crossing boundaries. And grant it, Cas had said it was okay for him to fall asleep during aftercare, but it’s just that his mind gets too clouded if he falls asleep. It tricks him into thinking this isn’t just a normal BDSM scene, but that it’s actually him and Cas in a normal, post–coital cuddle.
Regardless of the aching disappointment that this was just part of the scene, Dean still enjoyed it as much as he could, sinking further into Castiel’s embrace, nuzzling under his chin. Cas never tensed up when he did this, in fact, he always reciprocated any attempts Dean made to get closer to him.
They laid peacefully together for about 20 minutes before either of them said anything. Dean interrupted the silence, “I think I’m getting addicted to this.”
Cas mused, “Well, this is something that makes you feel good. Humans have a tendency to get addicted to such things.”
“True, I guess,” Dean shrugged, “Is that why you’ve been doing it for so long?”
“I–” Cas hesitated as he thought of his next words, “I suppose. Once I got into BDSM, it just became part of my life. I made friends in this community, and I guess I just got used to always participating in it.”
“Makes sense.”
A few more minutes passed in silence, “Hey, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Cas turned his head to Dean, a look of worry on his face, “Yes?” he responded.
Dean sat up, arms still resting on Cas, just a bit further apart now, “It’s nothing bad, don't worry.” Cas didn’t look convinced. “It’s just—Sam actually wanted me to ask you—”
“Wait—Sam?”
“Yes?”
“Your brother, Sam?”
“Obviously…?”
“Okay…” Cas eyed Dean nervously.
“What?”
“It’s just…” Cas cleared his throat, “Don’t you think it’s a little awkward to be talking about your brother right now?” He said while gesturing to their naked forms.
“You know,” Dean frowned, “It wasn’t awkward until you pointed that out.”
Cas just looked at him.
“Whatever, I’m telling you anyway because I keep forgetting to.” Dean fully removed himself from Cas, leaning his back against the headboard and folding his arms, Cas mimicked his movements, coming to sit beside him. “Sammy’s uh…he’s graduating in a month or so. And, he invited you to come to his graduation.”
“Oh,” Cas looked pleasantly surprised by that information, “I would be honored to attend. You’re going as well I presume?”
“Yeah, but—” Dean looked away.
“But what, Dean?”
Dean grimaced before saying his next words, “My Dad is coming too…”
Cas huffed a sigh of annoyance.
“I know I know, but I literally can’t do anything to change his mind.”
His friend nodded, still annoyed, but more understanding.
“That does mean though…if you want to ride with me, it’ll have to be with me and my Dad.”
Cas let his arms fall back in his lap, “I think I can handle that.”
“If you say so.”
It wasn’t until another break in the conversation that Dean realized he was still wearing his collar and he hadn’t been addressing Cas properly this entire time.
Cas apparently recognized his mortification, “Dean, I know what you’re thinking, it’s okay. You may take the collar off if you wish, and there won’t be any punishment for forgetting to do so sooner.”
Dean sighed in relief, “Thanks…” Maybe someday he would remember to take it off and put it on himself. He removed the collar, studying the smooth leather with his hands. “Are you still gonna get a new one?” Dean asked.
Castiel nodded, “If you’d like, we can look at some options while we eat a snack, how does that sound?”
“That sounds great,” Dean grinned.
Notes:
I hope that was a good chapter!
I wasn't sure how I felt about it once it was finished, so I'd love to hear what you all think! :)
Chapter 8
Summary:
- Switching POV's
- BDSM scene / smut (we gon' jump right into it y'all)
- TW: (Spoiler) Self-hating thoughts caused by a BDSM drop.
Notes:
Hey guys, I know it's been a hot minute lmao, but I've been super busy lately. I started a third(ish) job, my sister got married, and then I went to a Hozier concert, so I've had literally no free time! That, combined with the fact that this chapter kicked my ass, it's been a very slow progression. I'm still not totally satisfied with it, but I'm never gonna be able to move on if I don't put something out there, so I hope this chapter is decent enough for you.
A little spoilery warning for you, but this does end on a bit of a cliffhanger. The next chapter will resolve it though, and I'm hoping that I'll be able to get it to you a lot quicker than I did this one, but no promises. After this chapter and the next, then it's Sam's graduation! And we are getting closer and closer to some critical plot points up ahead, so that's fun! Hope y'all are still liking this story!
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
3 weeks later
(Dean’s POV)
The past few weeks have felt like a dream, one giant drunken blur of happiness and pleasure. Dean couldn’t even berate himself for getting lost in it, he was too far gone at this point.
Over the past three weeks, Dean and Cas have scened a solid amount of times. They started out with the intention of scening once a week, but now they’ve amped it up to two, sometimes three if they push themselves. Sure, occasionally they were exhausted, but times like that just meant they did a low-intensity scene. The tiredness they felt couldn’t compare to the glow of euphoria they both experienced after scening, which made it all worth it.
Dean wasn’t sure how this whole dynamic was gonna end, but he knew it would be painful as hell to let something like this go, to let Cas go. Maybe he wasn’t Castiel’s boyfriend and maybe it was all one big fantasy, but being Cas’s sub had allowed Dean to flourish like never before. Instead of turning to things like quick hook ups, and alcohol—like he usually did whenever he was stressed—anytime he needed to wind down and let go, he simply asked Cas to scene with him. Being around him so much, touching him and having him physically was like a drug Dean couldn’t quit. He needed Cas to feel good, needed Cas to take him down into the sweet sweet state of subspace.
And Cas was so good at it too.
They’ve done many different scenes at this point. Thankfully, Cas’s little lesson on coming untouched—which Dean could honestly say was the best thing he’d ever experienced—paid off. Dean was able to come now without a single hand on his dick, and it was fucking amazing. It was also annoying at the same time though, because it meant that sometimes he had to wear a cock ring if Cas didn’t want him to come without permission. He hadn’t been put through the experience of wearing a cock cage yet, which he was grateful for, and it’s not that orgasm denial bothered him—quite the opposite actually—it’s just that the cage was a little daunting.
They've also tried scenes such as hand feeding—which was really weird at first but quickly became extremely sensual and pleasurable for both of them—orgasm denial, cock warming—which Dean enjoyed more than he’d like to admit—and also some non-sexual scenes. For example, one time last week, Cas had made Dean kneel on the floor in the living room, head resting on his thigh while Cas watched one of his nature documentaries. Cas was fully clothed, so Dean didn’t provide any pleasure—physically speaking—he simply kneeled at his Doms feet, basking in his approval and praise. It was surprisingly euphoric for him, and a scene he’d love to try again. All in all, each scene gave Cas a way to take control and let Dean float contentedly in subspace.
And truly, it wasn’t just the endorphins of scening that made Dean feel good. Every time a scene ended, they’d get to cuddle and sometimes sleep together. If Dean had any qualms before about snuggling with Cas, he didn’t anymore. He loved the nights when he got to sleep over. There were still times when he thought that maybe he crossed boundaries and it made him feel insecure, but Cas was always very skilled at recognizing those signs in Dean and equally skilled in reassuring him that he need not feel that way.
But despite Dean’s current contentment regarding their situation, he knew he was playing a dangerous game. He was still in the stage of denial, but he was aware that soon, the ball would drop and everything would fall apart. Whether it be Cas finding someone new, someone he could actually have a real relationship with, or maybe Cas just getting plain old tired of Dean—he knew something would eventually happen that would take all of this away from him.
But, best not to think about that right now.
Right now, all Dean wanted to think about was how gloriously gooey he felt. It was almost three weeks since Dean and Cas scened the day after their ax-throwing outing, which also meant three weeks since they had done any impact play. For some reason, Cas kept tip-toeing around giving Dean an honest to goodness spanking. He used some things on his sub that could qualify as impact play, but Dean had a hunch they didn't have the same effect as a straight up paddle or belt would—and boy, was he right.
After a persistent begging from Dean for Cas to give him a real spanking—and to use the spanking bench—the sub had won out. The result left him naked and panting, kneeling on the spanking bench with his red ass high in the air and his wrists and ankles secured tightly with the restraints. Dean didn’t understand why it took so much coaxing for Cas to finally use a goddamn paddle on him considering the choked noises he could hear slipping out of his Dom from behind him. But then again, Cas was really big on explicit explicit consent.
Part of Dean was extremely grateful for Cas’s careful treading around kinks that could be potentially harmful if not done right, or done when he wasn’t in the right mindset, another part of him wished Cas would just get on with things already without Dean having to ask or constantly reassure him. It wasn’t a huge problem. A lot of times, Cas quickly caught onto things that Dean vehemently enjoyed without Dean having to spell it out for him—such as bondage. It was just the more intense, painful things that Cas made sure to be extra cautious about.
As soon as he was given the explicit consent, however, Dean could tell Cas was done holding back. If the sounds of his moans told Dean anything, it was that his Dom was getting as much—if not more—pleasure out of this as Dean.
He was currently on his 10th strike. Castiel told him he was going to try and reach 20, so halfway there. In all honesty, Dean was a little disappointed there was only gonna be 20. Yeah, it was painful and his ass was gonna hurt like a bitch later, but it still felt so good.
He wanted Cas to spank him raw, until his bottom was cherry-red and hot with pain. Because after a while, the pain melted into something else. It thrummed through his whole body, causing his mind to shut off, to accept what he was getting, and eventually, the pain morphed into pleasure.
Already, Dean could feel that pleasure beginning to take effect. His dick, which laid stiff against the leather of the bench was getting harder by the second, precum dribbling out of the tip. Cas hadn’t put a cockring on him, but he also didn’t say he could come. He probably hadn’t suspected that Dean could come just from getting his ass spanked, but then again, neither had Dean. But with each hit and reaffirming praise from his Dom, Dean’s pleasure heightened. So much so, that he was beginning to think he could really come just from this.
Smack.
The smooth wooden paddle came down on Dean’s ass a twelfth time.
After a strained moan, Dean whispered, “Thank you, Sir…”
“Of course, my sweet boy.” Cas’s hand rubbed soothingly over his burning rear-end. “You’re doing so good for me. Just eight more, okay?”
Dean didn’t respond, he merely whimpered with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Cas hesitated, “Is something wrong, Dean? What’s your color?”
Deflating a bit, Dean shook his head, “Green, Sir. I’m okay. Just…”
“Just what?” Cas’s fingers curved inwards, dragging his nails across the heated skin.
“Just…” Dean swallowed, his throat was dry and rough, “Want more, Sir…Want more than eight…”
“I see.” Cas’s voice was calm and collected, but Dean could tell he was surprised at his request. “For now, let’s just stick to the twenty, and we’ll see how you feel after that, okay?”
“Okay, Sir.”
Three hits showered down in quick succession, eliciting pleasure-filled groans from Dean. Cas was breathing heavily at this point, and if Dean could guess, probably touching himself as well. Dean would give anything to see that sight right about now.
A surprised little yelp erupted from Dean’s mouth when Cas’s long fingers found their way into his hair, tightly gripping the strands and yanking him as far backwards as he could go. “The last five are going to hurt, Dean. What’s your color?”
“Green, Sir!” Dean confirmed with a used and raspy voice.
“Good.” Was the last thing Dean heard before the paddle flew through the air and landed on his ass with a sharp crack. Despite being lost in the pleasure of the experience, there was no way for Dean to avoid crying out in pain as the shocks reverberated through his whole body.
“F—fuck…”
“Good boy…” Cas’s husky voice praised him as the sensation dissipated, “How do you like that?”
“L-love it…” he slurred.
The last four hits were a blur of both pain and ecstasy—Dean did indeed love it. He was panting desperately, on the verge of crying and begging Cas to just fuck him right there.
To his dismay, after a few minutes of rubbing the pain away from Dean’s ass, Cas began undoing the straps around his ankles.
“N-no…” Dean whimpered.
Cas shushed him sweetly, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair, “It’s alright my sweet boy, that’s enough for now.”
“Sir…?” Dean looked up at his Dom with watery eyes, his limbs weren’t restrained anymore but he remained unmoving.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Please…” Dean blushed, head hung low, “want you to fuck me…”
“Oh did you think we were done?” Cas looked down at Dean with a devilish grin. He helped lift his upper body off the bench, and by grabbing into his chin, he brought Dean’s face close to his own, “I’m just getting started with you.”
All Dean could do was whine and squirm in anticipation. Whenever his Dom made a promise like that, it was always well kept.
A few moments later, Cas was leading Dean off the bench and towards the curved sofa on the right side of the bed. He was expecting Cas to lay him down on it normally and take him missionary like they had done once before; but this time, Cas decided to guide him to the back of the sofa and lay him over the top. His movements were abrupt, causing Dean to gasp as his dick pressed into the cushiony curve of the sofa. The position left his hips lying across the highest point with his ass presented in the air and his upper body slumped in the dip of the sofa.
“So beautiful all laid out for me,” Cas whispered breathlessly, large hands gripping gently onto the flesh of Dean’s hips, “Just for me…”
Dean groaned, nodding in confirmation and canting his hips back in search of his Dom. His hands held onto the sides of the sofa, face pressed against it with his mouth open and panting.
Castiel dug his fingers harder into Dean’s skin, and used his thumbs to spread Dean open, humming at the sight of his hole fluttering in excitement. A sharp inhale came from Dean when he felt the cool sensation of lube being dribbled onto his entrance and a thumb begin to press slowly inside him.
It wasn’t long until Cas had him sufficiently stretched and on the verge of begging Cas to just fuck him already. Thankfully, it didn’t take any persuasion besides a pleading moan to get Cas lined up and ready to push into him.
The tip of his dick slid slowly in inch by inch, pulling a long and drawn out groan from both of them. It was too much and not enough all at once. Cas filled him up so good, so perfectly, that Dean could swear he’d carved out a permanent space inside of him. Once he had buried himself up to the root, Dean let out a shaky breath.
He braced himself to be fucked, but Cad wasn’t moving. The sub looked back over his shoulder with his eyebrows upturned in a plea, “Sir?...” His voice was hoarse from yelling earlier.
Cas didn’t respond verbally, instead, he did the most unexpected thing by lifting one of Dean’s legs up onto the sofa until it was level with his hips. The action caused Dean to shift forward even more, grunting as his fingers paled where they clutched to the structure of the sofa.
He wasn’t old by any means, but he also wasn’t exactly as flexible as his 18 year-old self, so the stretch of his thigh made his muscles burn and his teeth grit.
With a breathy, rough voice, his Dom asked, “Color, Dean?”
“Ahh…” Dean tried to find his bearings, “green…Sir…”
Nails dug into his thighs, “I’m going to fuck you hard Dean, so hard that you’re gonna feel it on your sensitive bottom.” A loud whimper escaped his lips, muffled by the sofa. “And afterwards, you’re gonna clean my cock. If you behave like the obedient boy I know you are, then you’ll get the reward of coming in my mouth, do you understand?”
Dazed and excited, Dean nodded into the sofa.
By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late—a wide palm came down fierce and hard on his sore ass. “Fuck!—Yes...yes, Sir! I’m sorry, Sir—“
His apology was cut off by Castiel pulling out almost all the way and ramming back in—the harsh thrust set the pace for the rest of their fucking. Cas’s hips slapped into his red and bruised skin, making Dean keen with every movement.
He was definitely gonna feel this tomorrow.
Since he wasn’t allowed to come until after getting fucked, Dean knew he was going to have to focus with all his might to not disobey. He could always ask Cas for help, but he was already so lost in the good pounding he was getting that he couldn’t even form the words.
The only thing coming out of his mouth was a litany of fucked-out moans and pleas, “S-s-sir!—fuck—ahh…p-please…”
With one hand holding Dean’s leg up, Cas splayed the other between his shoulder blades, using it to push Dean further into the sofa. His pace was absolutely brutal, not only the power behind his thrusts, but his accuracy as well.
Dean choked on a moan, begging himself to not let go, to be good for Cas.
“Such a—fuck—such a good boy, Dean…” Cas continued to hammer inside him, his sharp hip bones bruising Dean’s already abused skin, “So eager to please me, it doesn’t even matter if you come or not, doesn’t it? You just want to be my perfect little slut…”
Dean squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. Cas wasn’t playing fair—dirty talk like that was a surefire way to get Dean to the finish line fast.
“That’s it…so close Dean…” Dean could feel Cas’s cock throb with every hot drag inside of him, “Gonna come…gonna fill you…how does that sound?” He asked between heaving pants.
“S-so good, Sir! God—need it…need your come—please!” Dean begged while trying to ignore his aching dick that was currently trapped underneath his lower abdomen, being rubbed with delicious friction. Combined with the constant stimulation to his prostate, Dean wasn’t gonna last much longer if Cas didn’t get this show on the road.
Not long after Dean’s response, Cas’s rhythm began to falter, his thrusts becoming quicker and shorter. If there was one thing Dean loved about having sex with Cas—or, his Dom, he should say—was the noises he made when he came. Most of his moans leaned more towards grunts and gasps, but when he came, Castiel honest to god, whimpered.
It was the sexiest sound Dean has ever heard, and that’s saying something considering how much Cas’s normal speaking voice turned him on.
“Jesus f-fuck—so good…” After one hard thrust, Castiel poured his come inside Dean, effectively filling him up to the brim. Cas fell forward, hands still holding onto Dean’s side, but now with his face lying on top of Dean’s sweaty back. He peppered the skin there with soft kisses. “So perfect, exquisite…”
Dean grinded his hips back into Cas, making him inhale sharply through his teeth with over sensitivity. They laid there in the glow of Cas’s orgasm—and Dean’s successful attempt to restrain himself—for a few minutes, before they were interrupted by the sound of Castiel’s phone ringing.
This was one of the downsides of scening in the middle of the day on a day off. Cas was more likely to get calls. Dean just prayed it wasn’t the hospital trying to get him to come in.
They groaned almost simultaneously, and slowly but surely, Cas pulled out of Dean, and did his best to wipe them both off with his shirt that was discarded on the floor. Dean tried not to be disappointed that he didn’t get a chance to clean Cas off himself.
“I’m so sorry, Dean. One moment…” Castiel searched his jeans that were thrown across the bed for his ringing phone. Dean made no attempt to get up in hopes that this would all be a false alarm, and Cas could come quickly back to make good on his promise of a reward.
His hopes crumbled when Dean heard Cas speak into the phone, “Yes, this is Doctor Novak.” A moment of silence passed, “Oh—no…well, usually I would, but I’m sort of in the middle of something at the moment…Ah, I see…Is she alright? Or—okay. Let me—let me call back in a minute…yes…okay, goodbye.”
Cas breathed out a deep sigh, and Dean bit his lip anxiously.
“Who was that?” he asked, not sure if he should include ‘Sir’ at the end.
“The hospital.”
“And what did they want?” Realizing this conversation wasn’t going to end with his dick in Cas’s mouth, Dean slowly pushed himself up off the sofa, turning to face Cas while leaning his arms on the back.
“They want me to come in. I told them I usually would, but obviously, I can’t just leave in the middle of a scene,” he looked down at the floor, “but then they said the doctor who was out was Meg. Some sort of family emergency… I should probably call her.”
“Cas.” Dean said firmly so that his friend would look at him. Once he did, Dean began taking off the collar. “You should go, I’ll be okay.” He attempted to smile reassuringly, “Promise.”
“No, I shouldn’t. We haven’t even had aftercare yet…” Cas walked forward, placing one hand on the side of Dean’s arm—Dean took the hand in his own.
“Look, this isn’t my first rodeo—thanks to you—” he smirked at Cas, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just watch some tv and eat snacks, and then I’ll be here when you get back.” His voice was soft.
Of course Dean would love some aftercare, but truly he didn’t need it—well, maybe he did, but this was an emergency. Meg is Cas’s friend and his job is important to him, Dean can’t get in the way of that. He didn’t want Cas to feel like he was obligated to put Dean first, because he wasn’t.
“Dean…” Cas looked conflicted.
Dean raised one eyebrow, “I said I’ll be okay, trust me.”
“Are you sure?”
“If you don’t get out of here, I’m gonna kick you out.”
“Out of my own house?” Cas chuckled.
“Damn right.”
His friend nodded with a grin. “Okay, okay.”
Since he stood in front of Dean, still not moving, Dean decided to push him playfully, “Go! I mean it.” His voice was lighthearted.
“Alright,” he started to turn, then stopped himself. With three large strides, Cas stepped back in front of Dean, bringing his hands up to cup Dean’s face. The action was something he was beginning to do a lot—not that Dean was complaining or anything. “I promise, Dean, I’ll make it up to you—tonight if you want. Someone was a very good boy and needs to be rewarded.” Cas winked.
Dean wasn’t sure why his heart fluttered with so much fondness, “I know you will,” he said with a smile, “Now go, I’m not gonna say it again.”
Cas smiled and nodded, hurrying out of the room to get ready for work.
—
Just as he said he would do, Dean spent the rest of the afternoon lying on Castiel’s couch watching Doctor Sexy and eating any junk food Cas had in his house, all while trying to ignore the aching burn of his sore bottom.
Cas usually had a cream to put on him if they did any impact play, but Dean couldn’t find where it was and he didn’t want to bother Cas about it.
The hours passed, and eventually the clock said 5:30 pm, Dean had work tomorrow at 8:00 am. It wasn’t a big deal if he got home late, especially since he would have the satisfaction of getting Cas twice in one day. He was just getting worried Cas wouldn’t get home till really late. He had tried texting him a couple times to check in, but Cas had either sent a one word reply, or didn’t respond at all. It wasn’t surprising considering the intensity of his job, but Dean just wanted to know whether or not he should stay or go home.
About 20 minutes later, Dean’s phone started ringing. He sat up quickly, sighing with relief as he picked up the device from the coffee table and brought it to his ear, not even attempting to read the contact.
“Hey, miss me already?” He said cheerfully.
“Dean?” The gruff voice of his father sounded over the line.
Dean gulped hard.
Fuck.
“Dad?”
“Who else would I be?”
“Oh,” well this was a very unpleasant surprise. His Dad never called—well, if he did, it was rare. “What do you want?”
“Can’t I just call my son without wanting something.” His voice was cold and defensive.
“You can, but you never do.” Dean wanted to say, but didn’t. “Well yeah, but I mean, is there a reason you called?”
“Actually I uh…” John cleared his throat, “I was wondering if you could pick up a refill on my pain medication today. I would go get it myself but my knee has been killin’ me—“
“Yeah, Dad, I’ll get it. Is the pharmacy still open?”
“Should be, if you hurry up.”
“I’ll try my best but I’m at C—“ Dean stopped himself, realizing how the way he answered the phone would sound if he said he was at Cas’s house. “I’m at a friend's house in the city.”
“Okay, just let me know if you don’t make it.”
“Yeah.” Dean hung up.
Well there goes his evening.
To make sure Cas wasn’t confused about Dean’s absence, he made sure to send him a quick text explaining where he was.
<<< Dean: hey cas
<<< Dean: sorry to bother u i know you’re busy
<<< Dean: just wanted to let u know that something came up with dad and i won’t be there when u get home
He waited for a few minutes to see if Cas would reply, but when nothing popped up, he turned off his phone and slipped it into his pocket. It’s fine, he and Cas will just have to finish the scene later.
Disappointment aching in his chest, Dean gathered the rest of his things and left.
— (Cas’s POV)
It was almost 9 pm when Cas walked out of the hospital. A long day of running around helping patients had taken its toll, and least to say, he was exhausted.
As he walked sluggishly up to his car, Cas remembered that he hadn’t checked his phone since 1 pm when he had called Meg to make sure everything was okay. It was, thankfully. Her grandmother had just passed unexpectedly. She wasn’t very close with her, but she was close enough that she decided to take a trip up north to be with her family. Castiel also suspected that she may have taken the opportunity to get out of work, but he of course would never accuse her of that openly.
Truly, Cas understood and was very willing to take her shift for her—it’s just that he hated leaving Dean like he did. Not only did his sub not get to come, but he hadn’t been able to go through aftercare or to make sure he applied the numbing cream to help with the pain of his spanking.
He shouldn’t have left in such a hurry. He should have seen to it that Dean had everything he needed, and he also should have been doubly sure that he would be okay being left alone after a pretty intense scene like that. Sure, maybe Dean had told him multiple times that he would be fine, but he has always been one to put others before himself, so it’s highly likely that he had just told Cas that so he wouldn’t worry.
Anxiety washed over Cas in a sickening wave—he needed to check on Dean.
Forgetting his phone, Cas fumbled into his car as fast as he could. His little pimpmobile—as Dean called it—could only go so fast, but thankfully the drive back to his home was rather short.
When he finally pulled into his driveway, Cas was jittery with excitement. Not only was he excited to get his hands on Dean again, but he was also relieved to be able to finally do some aftercare, and hopefully help Dean with any feelings of a potential drop.
His keys jingled as he unlocked the door—it was a bit weird that it was locked considering he didn’t lock it when he left, but maybe Dean was just being paranoid. Shaking off the thought, Cas walked through the door, shucking off his jacket and yelling down the small foyer hallway, “Dean! I’m here.”
The only response he was met with was the sound of his own voice echoing off the mostly empty walls.
“Dean?” Again, nothing.
Cas did a quick walk through his house, looking for any sign of his friend. Eventually he made his way back outside to check the driveway, which was empty besides his car.
He must have been so focused on getting to Dean that he hadn’t noticed when he pulled in that the impala wasn’t here.
Shit.
With trembling fingers, Cas pulled up his messages. He saw that he had two unread texts from him. Cas deflated when he read them—
just wanted to let u know that something came up with dad and i won’t be there when u get home
Oh.
Well, he must seem like a jackass for not seeing this text until 4 hours later. Castiel’s thumb lingered over the call button—maybe he should apologize for not answering sooner. Cas chewed on his lip while debating what to do.
Unsure of himself, Cas finally decided to send him a response.
<<< Castiel: Hello, Dean. Sorry I didn’t see your message. Hope everything is okay with you and your father.
He sighed, plopping himself down on his couch. Silence surrounded him as he sat alone in his living room. Almost immediately he slipped into a state of self-reflection.
If one thing was clear, it was that Cas has become far too lax with this whole dynamic. Before Dean happened, Cas was a well-respected Dom who kept to a strict schedule of scening. There were certainly times when he and his sub at the time did improvised scenes, but generally speaking, all of their activities were meticulously planned and thought out. They were also only scheduled for once maybe two times a week.
He had told himself that he would apply the same rules to his and Dean’s dynamic, but as the days passed, both of them became more addicted to scening and eventually, Dean convinced him to do three scenes in one week. It wasn’t Dean’s fault though, Castiel was easily persuaded and practically gave no push back at all. He wanted it just as badly as Dean did, and if that meant scening at risky times during the day, then who cared.
That’s what had gotten Cas here in the first place. He had put his own needs before the needs of his sub, and because of his carelessness, Dean was now at risk of having a sub drop since Cas hadn’t considered being called in before he could perform proper aftercare with him. This behavior went against everything Cas had laid out in the rules and responsibilities for a Dominant.
And to top it all off, Dean wasn’t just some casual partner, he was his best friend. So not only does he have a duty to protect and take care of him as his Dominant, but also as the person who professes to be the closest to him in everyday life. How could he be so stupid and selfish to let something like this happen.
If he and Dean were going to continue this relationship, he had to clean up his act.
The worry and self-chastising ate away at Cas for the rest of the evening. He laid awake in his bed for most of the night tossing and turning, thoughts of their last scene racing through his mind. Many times he had sat up and reached for his phone, tempted to call Dean—but he always chickened out.
Dean never responded to his text, which was unusual and made Cas even more anxious to call him. What if he didn’t want to talk to him?
In reality, his friend was probably just busy, and wouldn’t mind talking to him on the phone; at the same time though, he knows how touchy Dean can get when he thinks he’s being coddled, so if he found out Cas was calling just to check on him, it could go south quick.
God, this whole thing was such a mess.
His terrible night's sleep left Cas with dark under eyes and a grumpy temperament when he woke up the next morning. The first thing he did after sitting up in his bed was check his phone.
Still no answer from Dean. Cas’s heart sank to his stomach.
Huffing a sigh, Cas got up to get ready.
He knew when he was standing cold and irritable outside his shower that it was going to be a rough day for him, and by the time he had gotten ready, barely making it to work on time, he already had two cups of coffee sitting warm in his belly. He didn’t think they were doing much to wake him up though. To make matters worse, after he arrived and finished putting everything in his locker, he realized he forgot his lunch.
Fucking great.
The rest of the day went in a similar fashion. Cas tried his best to plaster a fake smile on his face, but when it got to the middle of his shift, he gave up. As long as he stayed focused and helped his patients, everyone else was just going to have to deal with grumpy Castiel today.
Anna—or, Doctor Milton—seemed to notice his mood and questioned it during one of his small breaks. Cas had just been refilling his fourth—maybe fifth, but who’s really counting—cup of coffee, when she asked, “Doctor Novak, everything okay?” Her voice was monotone but soft.
Usually, he liked having small talk with his coworkers, but today, there was something sitting in the pit of his stomach that was keeping him from enjoying any of the things he usually did.
“I uh—I’m fine, Anna. Thank you for asking.” He didn’t even look up at her, just continued to pour the steaming liquid into his paperboard cup.
“Are you sure? Because you seem a little out of it today.”
Before Cas could answer, the burning hot coffee accidentally tipped over the side of his cup, burning his pointer and middle finger in the process. “Agh!” Cas waved his hand in the air, then stuck the injured fingers in his mouth to help ease the painful sensation. “I said I’m fine, Anna.” His voice came out harsher than he intended it to.
Anna gave up, but a concerned expression still painted her face, “Okay…”
As soon as she left the room, Cas felt guilt boil up inside his chest. It’s not her fault Cas was having an off day, she was just trying to be a good friend, and in all honesty, Cas could use one of those right about now. He mentally berated himself as he finished drinking as much of his coffee as he could, then made his way back out to the floor.
Despite his sour mood, Cas still had several patients in need of his care, so he did his best to push everything down in order to give all his attention to his patients.
One patient in particular, a little girl who had come in because of a seizure, was number one on his priority list right now. Her name was Charlotte. She was 7 years old, and this was her first ever time experiencing seizures. Thankfully, she had already been stabilized by the time her mother had driven her to the emergency room, but it was still vital to find out what underlying issue may be occurring so as to prevent any future seizures from happening. In order to do this, Castiel had ordered an EEG, electroencephalogram, to determine whether or not she has epilepsy or maybe something more serious like a lesion or tumor.
The EEG results had just come in so he was now on his way to the yellow zone to give them to Charlotte and her mom. Once he walked up to the door, he knocked to alert them of his presence, “Hello—” His feet skidded to a stop when he got a look at the empty room. Quickly, he opened up their file on the computer to make sure this was the correct room, and sure enough, it was.
The only explanation for their absence is that they must have been moved to a different room, Cas just didn’t understand why the change of location wasn’t showing up on his computer. To find the answer to his question, the doctor decided to ask someone in triage, since they were most likely responsible for moving his patient in the first place.
Castiel made the trek through the hallways and to the triage center. To his relief, he was able to spot Jody talking to someone at the main desk. He didn’t want to interrupt, but since this could be an emergency if his patient was moved to the red zone because of an active seizure, Cas needed to know immediately.
“Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt—” Cas walked up between Jody and the other nurse she was conversing with.
As soon as Jody noticed Cas, she smiled brightly “Oh, Doctor Novak, it’s no problem at all. What can I do for you?”
“I have a patient, Charlotte Jones, who was in yellow. She’s been moved but it’s not showing up on my computer.”
As Castiel explained his problem, Jody walked around to her computer. “Alright let me see….Ah, yes. She’s been moved to the green zone actually. Seems that someone has already given them her test results…which show no sign of epilepsy. I suppose that’s why they moved her to green… and also probably why they’re in the process of discharging her.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Would have been nice to know about though. Who’s the doctor who’s discharging her?”
“Doctor Alder.”
That made sense. Zachariah Alder was always taking other people’s patients without telling them about it. He was a veteran doctor in the field, so it was almost like he felt entitled to anyone’s patients simply because he had the most experience. Cas was extremely irritated by him, but since the ER relies on fast paced care, he couldn’t exactly complain that one of his patients was being seen quicker than expected.
“Alright, thank you.”
“No problem.” Jody said cheerfully, then went back to helping one of the other nurses.
Cas was just about to walk back through the exit door, when he spotted someone wearing an EMT uniform through the small glass window of the door at the other end of the hallway. It took him no more than three seconds to recognize him.
It was Dean.
Now, when Cas usually saw Dean unexpectedly, his heart did little jumps in his chest and a familiar warmth spread through his whole body. Seeing him was like spotting your high school crush in the hallway, it sent so much dopamine to his brain that it made him dizzy.
Not today though.
Today, when he saw Dean, Cas felt a sharp pain in his chest and a faintness that almost made him nauseous. He couldn’t figure out why, but something about the feeling felt scary yet familiar…
He just needed to talk to him, yes, that’s it. He hadn’t spoken to him besides just the text he sent yesterday. If he were to make sure they were okay, that Dean was okay and not upset with him, then everything would go back to normal.
Cas strode down the hallway, keeping his eyes locked on Dean. His pulse quickened as he got closer, something was making him nervous and his palms sweaty. One hand reached out to push the door open, but just before he could put his weight into the push, he saw something that made his stomach drop.
Dean was waiting for Benny to finish paperwork, like usual, so he had been swaying back and forth on his heels impatiently. Cas guessed that Dean got tired of standing, so he decided to sit down to wait—that’s when it happened. As Dean lowered himself onto a seat, he winced, hissing in pain through his teeth as his lower half made contact with the chair. Apparently, the pain was bad enough that Dean changed his mind, returning to a standing position.
Cas froze, staring at Dean in horror. If Dean was in enough pain that he couldn’t take a simple sitting break, Cas must have seriously done some damage.
Tears threatened to well up in his eyes, but he swallowed the lump in his dry throat to try and get it to go away. Dean was having to work his shift in pain, riding in their truck, in pain, all because Cas was a stupid asshole who couldn’t give him proper aftercare.
Or worse, who had pushed him so far that he was actually hurt…
The thought made Castiel’s whole body shiver in fear. How could he do this? Dean put his trust in Cas, and this is what he gave to him. Cas had promised himself he would never treat his sub this way…
He was so lost in thought that at first he didn’t register the soft voice behind him.
“Excuse me, Doctor. Just need to get through here…” A tall skinny nurse was gesturing towards the door that Cas was blocking.
“Oh,” Cas cleared his throat, it felt like sandpaper, “Of course, my apologies.” He stepped out of the way to let him through.
The nurse nodded his thanks and pushed the door almost all the way open as he entered the lobby. It was just Castiel’s luck that the door swung wide enough that Dean could make direct eye contact with him from just a few feet away.
“Cas?” His face was surprisingly pleasant, but there was a concerned tone to his voice.
The door shut as Cas made no attempt to keep it open. Not knowing what else to do, he turned around quickly and walked as fast as he could back down the hallway. Dean wouldn’t be able to enter the red zone without clearance, so going back there was his best shot of avoiding him.
He wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to avoid him, but all he knew was that he couldn’t talk to him. If he tried, he would break down.
Not to mention, Cas was probably the last person Dean wanted to see right now, after what he did to him… Most likely, he was on his way to tell him off, to yell at him and say that they were done, over. That’s why he hadn’t responded to his text. Why would he want to talk to someone who had abandoned him in the middle of a scene? Who had hurt him enough that he couldn’t even sit down?
Cas bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. No, he can’t face Dean. He’ll just have to do it himself—ending their dynamic. If he does it first, he can let himself down easy—not that he deserved to be let down easy with the way that he had treated Dean.
In all truth, he deserved to be yelled at.
Despite this revelation, Cas continued to walk, cowering away from Dean as the first tear fell down his face.
— (Dean’s POV)
Seeing Cas at the hospital was always such a wonderful surprise for Dean. Even though his friend worked there, he was never usually towards the front where Dean would see him. He’s only gotten lucky a few times to have Cas near the triage area at the same time he was dropping off a patient. To Dean’s delight, today was one of those lucky days.
Or so he thought.
The second he saw Cas, despite the happy, excited feelings that erupted at the sight of him, he could tell something was definitely off. Cas was staring at Dean like he’d just killed his puppy for god's sake, and his eyes were glazed over with tears, mouth agape. Dean had no idea what could make Cas look at him like that, but he was sure as hell gonna find out.
Without a second thought, Dean rushed to the door, opening it just before it latched shut. As soon as he entered into triage he saw Cas walking briskly towards the end of the hall, white coat trailing behind him. Fighting the urge to call out, Dean did his best to follow him. Eventually he realized that Cas wasn’t going to stop, and if he walked through the next door, Dean wouldn’t be able to go after him.
Not seeing any other choice, Dean yelled, “Doctor Novak!”
Cas didn’t even slow his pace.
“Cas?” he tried again, his tone was lower now, a tinge of hurt creeping along the edges.
Still, Cas trudged forwards refusing to acknowledge him, until finally, he made it to the end of the hallway, leaving through the door. Something sharp dug its way into Dean’s chest, but he couldn’t tell whether it was anger or sadness.
Why was Cas ignoring him? Had he done something wrong? Dean thought back through the past 48 hours. After delivering the medicine to his ungrateful and rather grumpy father, Dean had been in a bitter mood for the rest of the evening. Because of that, he didn’t make an effort to respond to any of his texts, including Cas’s.
Now that he thought about it, that was kinda rude of him—but was it enough to make Cas this upset?
A few seconds later, he became painfully self-conscious of how idiotic he must look standing in the middle of the triage center, nurses staring at him from left and right. Embarrassed and distressed, Dean turned to make his way back to the lobby.
Thankfully, on his way out he was met with a familiar face—Jody Mills.
“Dean! How are you?” Jody’s voice was sweet and comforting as she opened her arms to give Dean a hug.
He leaned into her embrace, “Hey, Jody. Been a while.”
“I’ll say,” she stepped back from the hug, “how have ya been?”
“Uh…good. Yeah, I’ve been good. And you?”
“Just fine.” There was a bit of silence before she added, “actually…” a twinkle sparkled in her eyes, “gotta date with your boss tonight.”
Jaw hanging open, Dean replied dumbfounded, “You’re kidding…”
“Nope.”
Dean knew that Bobby and Jody were friends—had been for most of his life—but he never would’ve seen that coming… Although, now that he thought about it, Sam did mention something once about trying to set them up. Either way, Dean was always oblivious to those kinds of things.
“That's…great. Good for y’all.” He let out a short laugh,
“Is it weird? It’s weird isn't it.”
“I mean, maybe a little. But y’all have always been close, guess it was only a matter of time.”
“Yeah…” She bit her lip in contemplation, “Well, hope you’re right.”
“Aren’t I always.”
She scoffed jokingly, “Yeah, sure.”
About that time, Dean noticed Benny through the narrow window of the door, he was waving at him to hurry up and come on.
“Oops, looks like I’m being summoned.” Dean threw up his pointer finger, and Jody turned around, waving back at Benny.
“I’ll see ya later, Jodes. Good luck on your date.”
“Thanks,” She patted his back as he walked by, then gripped his shoulder just before he got out of reach, “Hey, I know it’s none of my business,” she leaned in, keeping her voice low, “but you should really call him.”
Dean made a face like he didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Like I said, it’s none of my business…But I know a thing or two about friendships, and they can only work if you communicate.”
Dean sighed, “Did you not just see me trying to communicate?” he said defensively.
“I think he may need you to try and reach out more subtly…like I said, a phone call would probably be your best bet.”
He nodded, looking down at the ground with guilt, “Okay, I will.”
She squeezed his shoulder one last time and gave Dean her best motherly smile, “Good.”
—
The whole way back to the station, all Dean could think about was Cas. Which, to be fair, wasn’t an unusual thing for him—he caught himself thinking about Cas pretty much all the time now. But this time, his thoughts weren’t happy and dreamy like they usually were, they were laced with worry and a sinking feeling of guilt that consumed him. The only explanation for why Cas would be acting like this was Dean’s lack of a response to his text.
As soon as they pulled into the bay of the station, Dean hopped out of the truck and pulled out his phone.
“Now’s not that time for candy crush, Dean. We got shit to do.” Benny called over his shoulder as he walked towards the side door.
“Just a second! Gotta make a quick call,” Dean shouted back.
Benny just shook his head. Dean took that as a sign to go ahead.
He quickly tapped the phone icon on Castiel’s contact, and his foot tapped impatiently as the ringing began.
A dozen rings later, Cas’s voicemail played, ”This is my voicemail. Make your voice…a mail.” Dean usually chuckled whenever he heard that ridiculous recording of Cas trying to be funny, but right now the sound of his call being sent to voicemail made him angry and anxious all at once.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
Cas is still on the clock, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t answer. Dean will just call again later.
Pocketing his phone, Dean made his way into the station.
—
“Jody? Jody Mills?” Jo voiced her surprise while sitting beside Dean on the couch, “You’re telling me they’re going on a date together?”
Dean nodded with a shrug, “That’s what she told me.”
“Damn.”
“That’s what I thought, but I guess it kinda makes sense.”
Benny, who was making himself a sandwich in the kitchen a few feet away, perked up, “Bout time ‘s what I say.”
Jo’s mouth hung open as she whipped her head around to him, “there’s no way you thought they liked each other.’
“I’m the one who spends the most time with the man,” he countered, “should hear the way he talks about her.”
“Huh,” Jo sat back on the couch, “well, good for them I guess.”
A few seconds passed in silence, then a thought struck Dean, “at least we have something to tease him about,” he smirked.
A gruff voice came from behind them, “Tease me about what?”
Both Jo and Dean jumped up from their place on the couch.
“Jesus Bobby,” Dean said while clutching his chest, “we gotta get you a bell.”
Bobby scowled, “Shove it, Winchester.” The older man walked towards the kitchen, coffee mug in hand.
Jo sauntered up to the half-wall, crossing her arms and leaning on the counter, “So…heard you’ve got a hot date tonight?”
It wasn’t often one caught Bobby by surprise, but Jo seemed to have done just that. Their supervisor whirled around, face slightly flushed. He regained his composure rather quickly though, resorting to rolling his eyes, “Oh great,” he grumbled.
“We’re happy for you Boss!” Jo insisted.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Dean walked up beside Jo, “So you gotta tell us, after so many years of just being friends, what made y’all try now?”
Bobby took a sip of his coffee then cleared his throat, taking a moment to seriously consider the question, “Well, after a while…I guess we just realized we’ve always felt this way about each other, we were both just too scared to admit it. We wasted a lotta time I suppose…but that’s why, when you realize what you want, you gotta grab onto it with both hands.”
Jo and Dean looked at each other then back to Bobby, “Wow, that was beautiful, Boss,” Jo said, a teasing smile creeping on her face.
Rolling his eyes again, Bobby began walking out of the kitchen, “Guess who just earned herself truck wash duty,” he called out behind him.
Jo scoffed in disbelief, “W-what? Hey! What about him?” She pointed to Dean even though Bobby wasn’t looking.
“He did it last time,” Benny chuckled.
“Damn it…” Jo whined, indignantly walking out to the bay.
Benny went back to eating his lunch, leaving Dean standing at the counter feeling conflicted and confused. What Bobby had said about him and Jody could be applied to him and Cas…
Well, it could at least be applied to Dean and his feelings about Cas. He supposed that was the difference. Jody and Bobby both had feelings. Dean’s sentiments are one-sided—most likely—which meant that he was at risk of losing Cas if he were to ‘grab onto what he wanted with both hands.’
And from the look of recent events, it seemed he was already walking on thin ice. If he couldn’t talk to Cas and clear things up soon, he could lose him for good.
—
Freshly showered and stomach full of food, Dean slipped on some socks and made himself comfy on his couch. It was 10 pm, so Cas should definitely be home by now, which meant it was time to call him again.
Dean’s anxiety rose as his phone continued to ring with no answer. To his disappointment, Cas’s voicemail was once again the only answer he received. This time, he figured he should probably leave a message.
“Hey, Cas. I uh—I just wanted to call…and um, check up on you I guess. I don’t know if I did something to upset you, but I know you weren’t acting like your usual self back at the hospital. So just uh…give me a call I guess…yeah…bye.”
Dean cringed as he ended the call. He wasn’t usually this awkward when talking to him, but for some reason he felt like he had to tread lightly.
It wasn’t often that Cas was the one to shut down and get upset whenever there was something going on between them—that was usually Dean’s role. There was a twinge of guilt that ignited at that realization—the realization that Cas was always the one to reach out, the one to comfort him, and not the other way around. It’s not that Dean didn’t care, he just wasn’t good with words or emotions; so truly, he was the last person who could probably make Cas feel better.
He still had to try though.
And so he did, for the next three days. Each day became a routine of calling Cas morning, afternoon, and evening. He tried texting him as well, saying things such as ”please call me back” “im sorry for whatever i did please just talk to me.” “you’re worrying me man...”
Every last voicemail and message was left unread or unlistened to.
The first day, Dean was a little angry. If Cas had a problem with him, he could at least tell him out right instead of playing this middle school silent treatment bullshit.
The second day, Dean was just confused. This wasn’t like his best friend, but he couldn't figure out what might be causing such a reaction. He began to consider just going to Cas’s house since he wasn’t willing to talk to him over the phone.
Friday was the third day, and the worst of all three. It started out like the other two, with Dean calling Cas in the morning, only to be met with his voicemail for the billionth time this week.
Then, Dean went to work.
He and Benny were busy all day, running around the city helping people and answering calls. Thankfully, most calls weren’t too life-threatening, but some ended up needing to be transported to the hospital. On one of their trips to NKCH, Dean ran into Meg. They walked with their patient—who had several lacerations to their legs due to an accident involving glass—to the tirage area where they were given some more pain medications and where the wounds began to be treated. As soon as they were sure their patient was in the full care of the hospital, Dean and Benny began making their way back out to their rig.
Right before Dean could hop into the driver’s side of the truck, he heard a familiar voice call out his name.
“Hey Dean!”
Dean jerked his head around and saw the dark haired doctor walking towards him.
Dean smirked, nodding his head in greeting. He stuck his head back in the truck, “Hey Benny, give me a second.” Benny sighed but didn’t try to stop him. After shutting the truck door, he took a few steps towards Meg.
“Hi, handsome.”
“Come over here just to flirt?” He asked with a crooked smile.
“Sadly, no.” She sighed, “I’m actually here to talk about our mutual friend.”
“Cas? Have you heard from him?”
She eyed Dean warily, “That’s what I was going to ask you…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘Oh,’” She mimicked, “He called in today, which is very unlike him. And yesterday, he would barely even look at me.”
Dean sighed, nervousness beginning to wash over his body, “Yeah, sounds about right.”
“What did you do to him?”
Dean’s eyes shot up, “What do you mean, ‘what did I do to him?’”
Meg didn’t reply, she simply stared at him.
“Look, I didn’t do anything—well—if I did something, I don’t know what it was because he won’t fucking talk to me!”
“When was the last time you spoke to each other?”
“Tuesday—ish. I saw him here actually, and he looked upset, I kinda…sorta…chased him down the hallway to find out what was wrong but he ignored me.”
“Have you tried calling?”
“Obviously—what kinda friend do you think I am?”
The question was rhetorical but Meg muttered her response anyway, “An oblivious one…”
Dean ignored her for the sake of finding out more about Cas, “Have you talked to him?”
“Like I said, kid wasn’t exactly Chatty Cathy yesterday.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean exhaled, “What should I do?”
“What do you think you should do?”
“Go to his house?”
Meg nodded, “Might be a good start.”
—
A few hours after talking to Meg, Dean was in his impala on his way to Castiel’s house. As he drove, his mind drifted. The quiet hum of the road was a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts and regrets that thundered in his head. He was grateful Cas didn’t live far from the station or he might’ve had a mental breakdown before he made it to his house.
After so many days of Cas ignoring him, Dean wasn’t even angry anymore, he was scared. He realized what a self-centered asshole he was being by thinking this was all about him, not even considering the possibility that Cas might just be going through something that he needed help with.
He could only hope that Cas would forgive him for not reaching out in person sooner, and he hoped even more that he could help Cas with whatever he was going through.
Dusk had just fallen when he arrived at his friend’s home. He wasted no time getting out of the impala and running up to the door.
It was locked.
With a strong fist, Dean knocked hard on the oak door. The hits reverberated off the wood, making a loud banging noise that he knew Cas could hear.
“Cas! It’s Dean. Please let me in, man.”
There was still no answer.
Dean tried again.
And again.
At this point he started to panic. Cas could be sick or dying for all he knows.
He walked around the house, trying to find a way in besides the front door. Cas had a small back porch with a door, but when he tried it, it was also locked. He continued to search until eventually he found the window that led to Cas’s bedroom. Unsurprisingly, it was also locked, but he could at least have a better chance of Cas hearing him here.
He rapped his knuckles on the glass; there was nothing but silence in return.
His heart was beating a million times a second, was he gonna have to break in?
Just as he considered taking a rock to the window, his phone dinged. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw a message from Cas.
>>> Castiel: I’m fine. You can go.
Dean couldn’t believe what he was reading.
Instead of responding via his phones, he just decided to shout through the window, “Like hell I’m leaving! Come on Cas, just come out and talk to me! Or let me in at least!”
Another ding.
>>> Castiel: Please go.
Dean clutched his phone tightly. This time, instead of yelling, he got closer to the window and resorted to just talking loudly. “You’re not okay Cas.” The bitter feel of tears stung his eyes, “Please… just talk to me…”
There was a long period of silence, and at first Dean thought he wasn’t getting any response at all, until once again, his phone buzzed.
>>> Castiel: I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want you here. Please go.
Dean felt like the air had been squeezed from his chest, he couldn’t breathe. The first tear escaped down his cheek, beyond his control.
Swallowing thickly, Dean stumbled past the bush under Cas’s bedroom window. He wiped his now wet face, vision blurry as he walked to his car.
Dean had been preparing for this moment—when Cas finally got sick of him—but he still could never have prepared for the sharp feeling of pain that stabbed into his chest. He had wished it would be a smoother transition, that maybe he and Cas could still be friends, but he guessed he had just disappointed Cas that much.
The drive home was silent save for the rumble of Baby’s engine, which worked to put him in a depressive trance. A stale feeling of acceptance crept up on him, he hadn’t felt this hopeless in a long time.
Feeling lost and pathetic, Dean pulled into the closest bar.
Notes:
Fear not! All shall be fixed in the next chapter!
I always love getting comments from y'all, so please drop one if you feel like it!
Chapter 9
Summary:
- Switching POV
- BDSM scene / smut (this is porn with a plot, what can I say)
- TW: Self-hating thoughts caused by a BDSM drop, mentions of past sexual assault / rape, mentions of past suicidal ideation / depression.
Notes:
I'm sorry!!! I know it's been way too long since I updated, especially since I ended the last chapter on a cliffhanger... oops...
A lot has happened since then though, so I do have some valid excuses. I quit a job I hated, got a promotion at my favorite job, and went to my third supernatural convention! There is actually something pertaining to Gabriel's character in this chapter that I picked up from listening to a Richard Speight panel this past weekend, so that's fun! But anyway, it's been a little crazy. Thankfully I have more time with my new position to write/work on my creative hobbies, so fingers crossed this won't happen again. But as always, no promises!
I also want to throw out there that I have been struggling a little bit with writing. I read Destiel fanfic on the daily, so sometimes I find myself feeling a bit inadequate in comparison to the talented writes I encounter on here so often. I try not to let myself feel that way, but alas, I am human.
Anyway, enough about me. Enjoy this very very long chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Gabe’s POV)
Being raised in New York City had its pros and cons—mostly cons, in Gabe’s opinion—but still, it had perks. He enjoyed the rowdines of the city and the diverse party scene, but unlike many of his other siblings—who enjoyed the grind of city life, and particularly being rich and living in the city—Gabriel had no interest in working his ass off day and night just to retire in some penthouse apartment, eating at elite clubs while collecting art and tasting wine.
Just wasn’t his kind of thing.
Gabe’s thing was traveling wherever his heart took him, and making it his mission to find the freakiest crowd of people he could at wherever he ended up. His trips took him to many places across America—across the globe—and while Gabe would most certainly consider himself a free spirit who enjoyed dipping his toe in a little bit of everything, he had to admit…Kansas was not really doing it for him so far.
He had been fairly warned by his younger brother—who was about as adventurous as a doormat—that Kansas didn’t really have much to offer by means of entertainment, but he just hadn’t expected there to be so many fields.
Seriously, it was like Little House on the Prairie up in this bitch.
Thankfully, though, he wasn’t here to sight see—not that there’d be much to look at—he was here to visit his favorite sibling.
Who, funnily enough, wasn’t responding to any of his messages. It made Gabe chuckle to think about considering he’s typically the one too busy basking in the joys of life to be on his phone 24/7—which had often annoyed the shit out of his very punctual, type-A little brother. He’d lost count of the amount of voicemail’s Cas had left yelling at him to check his phone.
My how the roles have reversed, Gabe mused.
They’ve been planning this little visit for a month now. Cas wasn’t one to beg, but he could tell from the way he sounded over the phone that he was desperate for a little familiarity, and that, Gabe could certainly offer.
And so Cas had suggested that he visit in mid–May to do some catch up, and maybe introduce Gabe to some of his friends at the BDSM club an hour away.
Gabe wasn’t really into BDSM, per se, but he did try it out every now and then. He was no stranger to having sex with random people, oftentimes multiple people at once, so he definitely found things he could enjoy about the art.
Unfortunately, none of their previously planned hang outs were going to happen if Cas didn’t answer his phone soon. The last thing Gabe wanted to do was show up to an unsuspecting Castiel who had totally forgotten about his arrival—but by the looks of it, that’s what he was going to have to do.
He made it to Cas’s house by 12pm on Saturday. He parked his blue and black 1980s Chevrolet G-Series van in Cas’s driveway and sauntered up to his front door, bags and suitcase in hand. Since Cas should know that he’s coming, Gabe didn’t see why he should knock, so he reached forward and turned the doorknob.
Of fucking course it was locked.
Sighing in frustration, Gabe set down his stuff and began banging on the door. “Cas! It’s Gabe!”
He waited a few minutes for an answer, but nothing came.
“Great.” Gabe rolled his eyes while taking out his phone. If he has to break into this motherfucker, he will.
Just as he was about to call someone with a sledge hammer, he heard shuffling behind the door. Seconds later, the door opened, revealing a very unkempt, exhausted-looking Castiel.
“Jesus, what happened to you?”
Cas stared blankly, dark circles shadowing underneath his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just backed away from the door as a gesture for Gabe to head in.
“You look like you got run over by a herd of buffalo.” Gabe pointed out as he made his way inside. After setting his stuff on the couch in the living room, he turned around to face Cas, hands on his hip.
“So what happened to answering phone calls?”
There was a flash of guilt that came across Castiel’s face before he ducked his head, “I’m sorry Gabriel, I—“ he paused, “I don’t have an excuse. I forgot you were coming until now…and I should have read your messages, I know…”
“Look dude, it’s okay if something happened, I don’t blame you. But isolating yourself is never a good idea. I mean, remember what happened last time you tried to do that?”
“Yes…” his voice was raw, almost like he had been shouting or crying for hours.
“So,” Gabe walked up behind his brother and grabbed his shoulders, leading him towards the couch, “Why don’t you come over here,” He pushed him until Cas was sitting down, “Sitdown.” Gabe took a seat across from him on the coffee table, “And tell your big bro what’s got you so upset.”
Cas swallowed, twiddling his thumbs together, “I…”
“Cas…does this have something to do with you know who?”
Cas eyes shot up, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
Feigning ignorance, Cas looked away.
“Alright,” Gabe stood up and waved a hand in front of him, “gimme your phone.”
“What?”
“Give me your phone.”
“Why…?”
“I need his address so I can go cave his head in, c’mon.”
“Gabe…” Cas rolled his eyes exhaustively, “This—it’s not his fault…”
“A little something called intuition is telling me otherwise. Look Cas—I’ve seen you get so fucked up over someone like this before and I know it almost killed you, so I’ll be damned if I sit here and watch it happen again—“
“Stop.” Cas’s tone was firm. “This is my fault, and my fault only…” He sounded convincing enough that Gabe almost believed him, “Gabriel—I… I messed up so horribly…”
“Okay,” Gabe sat back down, “What happened?”
“We um… we scened—on Monday. I had the day off, and thought we could do it in the afternoon. We were in the middle of it when I got a call from the hospital—they asked me to come in…” Cas cleared his throat, “I-I know I shouldn’t have, but Dean told me I should go…and like an idiot I believed him…”
“So you didn’t get to do aftercare then?” Gabe could see where this was going.
“No. And I thought everything would be okay because I could just come home after work and finish the scene with him, but then Dean had to go help his father with something, which meant that he left without aftercare.”
“Did he drop?”
“I—I don’t know… but the next day, I saw him. The scene we did was impact play, and you know how I have numbing cream for my subs whenever I do a scene like that with them,” Gabe nodded, “But I never had the chance to apply it…I was hoping it wouldn’t be a big deal, but then on tuesday when I spotted him in the hospital, I-I saw him trying to sit and not being able to…”
Gabe snickered slightly.
“Gabe, this is serious.”
“I know, I know—sorry, continue.”
“He genuinely looked like he was in pain… and then when he saw me…I-I couldn’t even talk to him. I mean, how could I face him after something like that?”
Lips tight in thought, Gabe nodded his head, “Well, at least we know what this is now.”
“What?”
“You’re going through a drop my friend.”
“N-no…this is just… this is—“
“Yeah, can’t quite place your finger on it, can you? That’s because you're in a drop.”
Cas just stared at Gabriel, mouth open.
“This sounds like a simple case of miscommunication.”
“No. There’s no miscommunication—I should have stayed, I shouldn’t have abandoned him! He won’t be able to trust me anymore!”
“Have you asked him that?” Gabe said softly.
“I—“
“Let me guess—you’ve been avoiding his calls too.”
“Maybe…”
“Mhm.”
“Gabriel…” Cas groaned, hands grasping at his hair, “Drop or not. What I did was completely unacceptable. Dean can't forgive me for what I did.”
“Don’t you think that’s something that lover-boy should decide for himself?”
Cas scowled at the nickname, but didn’t reply to Gabe’s point.
Gabe slapped his hands on his knees and stood up again, “That settles it I guess, let’s give him a call and then you guys can go back to—“
“I don’t deserve to be forgiven.” Cas said finally.
Gabe looked at Cas with a steely expression, “That’s the drop talking, Cas.”
“No. I promised myself if I did this, I would be responsible…that I wouldn’t be like—I wouldn’t be like him. Not only have I broken that promise, but I completely ruined my relationship with my best friend. I did it, me. I don’t want to see Dean because I know what he’ll say and I don’t deserve to hear it.”
“Cas…”
“Just—stop, Gabe! I’m not seeing him, I’m not talking to him, I just—” Tears glistened in his brother’s eyes.
Without saying anything more, Cas got up and stormed to his room, shutting the door with a slam.
Gabe sighed to himself and tapped his foot lightly, thinking of how to fix this.
A wide smirk spread across his face when he spotted Cas’s phone sitting in between the cushions of the couch.
Bingo.
Thankfully, his brother was painfully predictable, so it didn’t take long for him to guess his passcode. After gaining access, Gabe quickly located Dean’s contact.
If Cas wasn’t going to listen to him, then maybe Dean would.
— (Dean’s POV)
It’s been a while since Dean’s been this hungover.
Actually, that’s a lie—he knew exactly how long it’s been.
Ironic to think that his last hangover was the very thing that got him here in the goddamn first place.
When he pulled into the bar last night, he had the worst case of deja vu he’s ever had in his life. He knew it was irresponsible to go cry into a bottle when this whole dynamic that he and Cas started was so that he didn’t have to do that, but he was just so broken up over him, he had to dull the pain somehow.
Now he was looking—and probably smelling—like hell, dragging his ass back into his apartment at 10 in the morning. He’d slept in his car, per the request of a kind bartender who insisted that she wouldn’t let him drive in his condition. He was grateful he was dealt with by her and not the grizzly man on the other side of the bar who had been sizing him up for a fight all evening.
Dean had almost given into it too. But then he thought of Cas and how disappointed he would be in him. Even with the current state of their relationship, with Cas not even wanting to talk to him, Dean still couldn't bear the thought of invoking Cas’s disappointment.
He really was too far gone.
At least he was home now and not in some ditch—or worse, in a hospital room.
After taking a lengthy shower and fixing himself some half-decent food, Dean got an idea. He remembered back to his high school days, all the times he would get fucked up over some girl—or secretly, some guy—and how he would always deal with it by talking to his best friend at the time, Charlie.
That sounded really nice right about now.
It was a Saturday, so she should have the day off—and although it was probably selfish to call just so he could vent…if he didn’t talk to somebody about this, he was just gonna drive back to the same damn bar tonight to keep this toxic cycle going.
The phone only rang a handful of times before it was answered by a hyper and cheerful voice, “Dean! How are you!?”
“H-hey, Red…I’m okay, how bout you?”
“Great! I’m actually in the car right now with Dorothy—” Dean could hear the sound of Charlie’s girlfriend shouting hello in the background, “She says hello—but um, we're on our way to do some LARPing!”
“No way, really?”
“Yep! It’s gonna be so much fun.”
“That’s awesome Charlie.”
“But I am missing my favorite handmaiden though…”
Dean rolled his eyes playfully, “Fuck off, it's fucking stupid that somebody assumed I was your handmaiden anyways.”
“I don't know Dean, you are pretty feminine.”
“Oh shut up.”
It was good to hear Charlie laugh again.
“So, what’s up? You sound a little off?”
“I uh—yeah, I kinda am…”
“Who do I need to fight?” There wasn’t an ounce of jest in her voice.
Dean quickly assured her that it was no one's fault, but decided to relay the events of the past week—deciding to forgo the obvious details. While relaying the painful summary, Dean paced in his living room, one hand waving expressively in the air as the other held up his phone.
“I’m telling you, Red, it’s like he’s a completely different person.”
“Does he have any history of depression?”
Dean sighed, “Not that I know of? But he doesn’t talk about his past very much…”
“Okay…” She was obviously stuck on how to help him, “Well, I think the only thing you can do is give it time, Dean.”
There was a pause of silence as Dean thought carefully.
“I—I think I messed it up, Charlie…”
“What do you mean?”
Dean thought for a moment…maybe he should just tell her.
“I—“ he cleared his throat, “we may have… started… kind of a—friends with benefits relationship…thing…” Dean’s shoulder scrunched upwards as he cringed at telling Charlie out loud the secret he’s been hiding from everyone for the past month, “And—”
“Dean Winchester…you’re telling me that you started a FWB with Cas and didn’t tell me!”
Dean knew if she was there with him she’d punch his shoulder.
“We didn’t really want to tell anyone…”
“Okay, but best friends don’t count!”
“Technically Cas has taken that position, sorry Red.” He hoped she could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Fine, but I still have the title as your best lesbian friend then.”
“I promise I’ll never have another lesbian best friend, besides you.”
“Good.”
Dean chuckled. It was always nice talking with Charlie. All the shit that he’s been dealing with lately—his dad, Cas, work—it was nice to talk to someone who he could be completely himself around. He needed to spend more time with her.
“So uh, I have Sammy’s graduation coming up in a week, but if you’re up for it, we can start planning another game night after that.”
“Oh my god, yes! It’s been way too long since I’ve bodied you in some uno.”
“Okay, first of all—you’re a cheater—“
“Bullshit! You’re just a sore loser.”
Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed, inside he was smiling.
“Alright, whatever.”
After a few seconds of silence, Charlie suggested, “Hey, you know what. If you and Cas figure out…whatever’s…happening with y’all, then you should totally invite him!”
“Um…” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “Cas isn’t really the board game type…”
“So what? We’ll teach him.”
“Well, I highly doubt he’ll say yes—or even talk to me, for that matter—but if he does, I’ll ask him.”
“Awesome.”
Speak of the devil, right after Charlie’s response, Dean’s phone began buzzing. He lifted it away from his face and looked at the screen.
Shit.
He quickly brought the phone back to his ear, “Charlie, it’s him. It’s Cas. He’s calling me—what should I do?”
“Uh… answer?” she laughed.
“I—“
“It’ll be okay, Dean. Just be honest and understanding, I’m sure it will go fine.”
“Okay…” lost in thought, Dean forgot he still needed to hang up.
“Now answer before it goes to voicemail!”
“Okay, okay! Bye, Charlie.”
“Peace out, bitch.”
Dean fumbled to answer Cas’s call. He pressed the green button and then took a deep breath as he lifted it back to his face.
“H—“
Before Cas could even get a word in, Dean interrupted nervously, “Before you say anything. Please—I need you to know how sorry I am about how I acted before…I’m sorry for being pushy when you needed space, I promise I only wanted—“
A fast-paced and higher-pitched voice chimed in, “Jesus christ you’re a chatty one.”
Dean stopped short.
Well, that definitely wasn’t Cas.
“W-who is this?”
“Heya Deano, it’s your best bud’s brother, Gabe!”
Dean blushed furiously—this is Gabe?
“Um…why do you have Cas’s phone?”
“Because…” Gabe exhaled, “I’m intervening. Seems like you lovebirds got yourselves in quite the pickle.”
“...Lovebirds?”
“Oh no need to play coy, Cas told me all about your sinful little escapades.”
Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Surely he wasn’t having this conversation with Cas’s freaking brother, he must be dreaming.
“Which is exactly why I’m calling actually. See, he won’t talk to you on his own, but I figured if I could—”
“—Woah, woah, push the brakes.” He interjected, “Are you with Cas right now?”
“Well duh, how else do you think I got his phone?”
Dean felt a twinge of annoyance that Cas had told Gabe everything going on between them, but then again, he had pretty much just done the same with Charlie, so he didn’t really have room to talk. He was also relieved that at least someone had been able to check on Cas, even if it was his eccentric older brother.
“Is he okay?” Dean asked.
“Yes and no.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I got good news and bad news. Which one you want first, buttercup?”
“For the love of god just spit it out.”
“Alright, alright, no need to use our outside voices.”
Dean glared at him through the phone.
“He’s fine, physically speaking. I mean, kid could definitely go for a hearty meal and a long shower…oh, and maybe a massage while he’s at it—”
“Gabe.” Dean gritted.
“Sorry—um, yes, physically he’s fine. Mentally and emotionally? Not so much. You see, our little angel is going through what one may call a Dom drop.”
“Dom drop? I thought it was sub drop?”
“Well, I mean, those exist too, but Cas is dropping after Domming someone, ergo, a Dom drop.”
A cold chill rattled through Dean. He didn’t know Doms could have drops too…maybe Cas had told him, but he had always seen Cas as so experienced and resilient that it never occurred to him it could actually happen to his Dom.
“Is it…Is it my fault?”
“What is it with you two and wanting to take blame? Jesus. No, it’s not your fault. I mean, maybe it could have been prevented with a little more communication from both sides, but generally speaking, this is no one’s fault.”
“Okay…” Dean nodded, “How do you get somebody out of a drop?”
“Difficult to say. It varies from person to person—but as far as I know, Cas hasn’t dropped this bad since he was a sub.”
Dean blinked several times, taking a seat on his couch “Wait…Cas was a sub?”
All he heard at first was Gabe replying with a short laugh, “Crazy isn’t it? He was only one for a short time, right when he got into this whole thing, I think. But obviously, he was better fit for other roles.”
Dean will have to ask Cas about that later.
“Still, I’m not sure if he’s dropped this bad as a Dom…”
“Really?” Dean asked.
Gabe sighed, “Unfortunately. I tried to talk some sense into him but he refuses to listen. I think the best thing to do is for you all to talk it out, but he doesn’t want to leave his room, much less the house.”
“What should I do?”
Gave clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth making an annoyingly loud sound on the other side of the phone. “I suppose the only thing to do is to bring you here.”
“I-I’m not invading his space, dude. If Cas doesn’t want to talk to me, then I’m—“
“It’s not Cassie, not really. It’s the drop that’s making him feel unworthy of your forgiveness.”
“My forgiveness?”
“Oh, right…” Gave chuckled nervously, “Probably should let Cas explain that.”
Dean stood up abruptly, “No—please tell me Gabe…”
Gabriel hesitated, “I really think you should hear it from Cas himself. Just come over and I’ll see if I can get him to come meet you.”
“But—“
With that, the line went silent.
Fucking bastard.
Dean tossed his phone on the other side of the couch and began rubbing the stress from his eyes. This is not how he imagined meeting Cas’s brother for the first time. Even with all the stories Cas has told him, he also couldn’t have imagined how extra Gabe was. Although, he seemed like he really cared about Cas, which made Dean trust him.
Still, if Cas gets mad at him for coming over, it’ll be on Gabe, not him.
—
Pulling up to Cas’s house the second day in a row, had Dean’s palms sweating and his pulse quickening. A sick feeling was infecting his mind, making him nauseous with all the possibilities of how this evening could end. If he hadn’t already lost Cas for good, tonight could seal the deal.
And despite Gabe’s reassurance that Castiel’s behavior this past week was solely a product of his drop, Dean couldn’t help but feel like there was something else going on.
And even if it was just the drop, that meant Dean did something to make Cas feel that way.
Either way, Dean was the one at fault, and he had to make it right.
That thought in mind, Dean opened the creaking door of the Impala and stepped out onto Cas’s drive way. He surveyed his surroundings and did a double take when he spotted what he guessed to be Gabe’s vehicle. A van? Really? It even had fucking curtains in the windows.
What did he really expect though.
After studying the rusted, but elaborately decorated vehicle, Dean walked slowly and cautiously up to Cas’s door. His stomachs did flips and turns—not in the good way—when the door opened in response to his soft knock.
Dean had only ever seen a handful of pictures, but none of them could have prepared him for how short Gabe was.
Well, his height certainly didn’t match his big personality.
Gabe must have noticed the growing smirk on his face, because he gave Dean a once over and exclaimed with a tsk, “Cassie always did have poor taste…”
“H-hey!” Dean stuttered.
Gabe raised a brow, “What? Not used to someone not falling in love with you at first sight?”
Dean simply scoffed, pushing by Gabe to enter the house.
“Any luck with Cas?” he half-whispered while peeking into the living room.
“Not really, he’s still in his room. It’s not locked.” With his arms crossed, Gabe stood in the middle of the room looking at Dean expectantly.
At first, Dean wasn’t sure what Gabe was suggesting, “W-wait…You want me to go in there and talk to him?”
Without taking a breath, Gabe replied dryly, “No, I want you to sit here and stare at the wall—obviously you should go talk to him!”
“What should I say?”
Gabe exhaled, “Cas is going through a Dom drop, which means he is going to need a lot of reassurance. I would start out by giving your side of the story, and then tell him you're here if he wants to tell you his. Hopefully he’s not as self-destructive as I think he is and this whole thing will end in some nice sweet makeup sex.”
Dean stared at Gabe in disgust, “You know, he can probably hear you.”
“Good,” Gabe half–shouted in the direction of Cas’s door, “Maybe we can get this show on the road so I’m not stuck living in this house while my brother wastes away in his room for the next week!”
Dean shuffled awkwardly, then, realizing Gabe was done with his little outburst, he tiptoed up to Cas’s bedroom door. He was just about to knock when the jingle of keys drew his attention back towards the living room. Gabe twirled his car keys on one finger, “Gonna go get some food, or…something…have Cas text me when y’all figure this out.” With one last huff, Gabe walked out of the room, the front door shutting loudly behind him.
Dean turned back towards Cas's bedroom and knocked, “Hey Cas…It’s Dean. Can I—May I come in?”
He was beginning to become accustomed to silence being the only response he got from Cas, so he wasn’t surprised when there was no reply. He was however a little worried, because he really didn’t want to go in unless Cas said it was okay.
Finally, Dean’s ears perked at the ever so faint sound of Cas’s rough voice coming muffled through the door, “In here…” He said as if Dean didn’t already know.
He took that as an okay for him to enter, and did so softly and timidly.
The minute his eyes landed on Cas, he felt an instinctual pull to rush to him. His friend was lying on his side, facing away from Dean, blankets cocooning him in an isolating embrace. His hair just barely peaked through the dark folds of his comforter, and Dean could tell from the slight sniffles and shallow breathing that Cas has been crying for quite some time. He swallowed the guilt and remorse that bubbled up his throat like a bitter, burning acid, and took a seat on the other side of the bed, trying his damndest to make himself small and unthreatening.
“Cas?” Dean tried.
The only reply he was given was the sound of Castiel’s heavy breathing.
“Okay…um…I’m really sorry for bargin’ in here like this… Your brother is uh, heh…he’s quite the persuader.”
Dean glanced at Cas, searching for any kind of reaction.
“Anyway, I um…I thought you should know a few things. ‘C-cause Gabe says you’re goin’ through uh…a Dom drop, and maybe, knowing how I feel may help.”
Cas laid as still as ever.
“Cas, I—I don’t know what happened between Monday and Tuesday that got you so upset, but I’m guessin’ it has something to do with you leaving our scene early?”
This got Cas’s attention. He rolled over—just a few inches—probably so he could hear Dean better.
“I want you to know that after you left, I was okay. I didn’t drop or have any bad feelings. I mean, my Dad calling me to come pick up a prescription for him may have gotten me in a bad mood, I guess, but I promise, the reason I didn’t respond to your text wasn’t because I was dropping, or because I was mad at you, it was entirely because of my Dad.”
He paused briefly but Cas still wasn’t saying anything.
“When I saw you at the hospital…I-I was so relieved, because I hadn’t been able to see you since our scene was cut short…but then… you looked so upset, and you ran away… so I thought I had done something wrong…I’m still not sure I haven’t Cas. S-so if you want to talk, I’m here.”
A few more quiet sniffles came from the other side of the bed, and after a couple minutes of silence, eventually, Cas turned around fully, eyes bloodshot and lidded with exhaustion.
Dean has never seen Cas look like this. Ever.
Even after some hard shifts that Dean witnessed Cas practically crawling away from, his friend has never once looked this defeated.
Now facing Dean, Cas kept his eyes low. He wouldn’t directly look him in the eye, but the effort to show some sort of reaching out was enough to spark hope within Dean.
He knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, but his hands moved before he could tell them not to. Gently, he caressed Cas’s forehead, moving the wild strands out of his eyes. Dean stared at him, not with pity, but with—what he knew to be—something close to love.
Cas stiffened at first under Dean’s calloused fingers, but after the second or third stroke, he melted into the touch as well as the pillow, allowing himself to fall deeper into it.
The vulnerability written all over Cas’s face struck deep inside Dean. He wouldn’t be sure why Cas was dropping so hard until he told him, but seeing him fall apart like this, it made Dean feel like he was responsible to put him back together.
“I—” Cas tried, his voice sounded like he’d been gargling nails.
“Shh,” Dean continued carding his hands through the sweaty strands of hair, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Just rest, Cas.”
Cas shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. When he opened them back up, Dean could see the tears beginning to pool in the corners. “No…I–I need to…”
“Okay, okay,” Dean cooed softly. He helped Cas sit up a little more against the headboard.
Cas cleared his throat. He tried to wipe the stray tears from his eyes, only for them to be replaced with fresh ones. “Dean…I know there’s something you’re not telling me…”
Genuinely lost to what Cas was suggesting, Dean shook his head, “What are you talking about?”
“I h—” his voice broke around the edges, shattering into a million pieces as grief covered his face, “I hurt you, Dean…I-I-I saw you…at the hospital,” he hiccuped a sob, “You couldn’t sit down because I hurt you so much, pushed you too far—”
Dean tried to interject, but Cas continued to pour out everything he’d kept cooped up over the past week, “And then I abandoned you, I didn’t take care of you…and I—” The sobs were uncontrolable now, “I’m so sorry Dean—s-so sorry, I know I don’t—I know you can’t forgive me for something like this, but I—”
“Woah, woah!” Dean held onto Cas’s arms, as he bent forward, another sob causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall forward. Dean did his best to soothe Cas, pulling him as much as possible into his arms, one hand wrapped securely on top of Cas’s head rubbing his hair, and the other latched over his right arm, holding him tightly to his side.
Cas struggled a bit, shaking his head. He was trying to express nonverbally that he didn’t deserve this display of kindness from Dean.
“Please…” was all his friend was able to say, over and over.
As Cas broke down in his arms, Dean thought back to Tuesday. His ass had been a little sore, probably because he didn’t put anything on it. But that wasn’t Cas’s fault. Dean was a grown man, if his ass hurt, he was fully capable of picking up something that could help with it. He just didn’t.
It also wasn’t unbearable pain. In fact, the moment Cas was probably referring to, was so fleeting and unimportant to Dean that he hadn’t even considered it a possible culprit of Cas’s duress.
In an effort to convey this to Cas, he pleaded, “Cas, shh, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m here. You didn’t do anything wrong—”
Cas wouldn’t stop shaking his head, but now he was gripping onto Dean instead of pushing him away, he held onto him like a lifeline.
“I promise—hey, look at me,” Dean brough the hand that was wrapped around Cas’s arm, up to his face to force him to look up, “I swear, Cas, you didn’t hurt me. You didn’t do anything that I didn’t ask or want you to do. I loved our scene, and sure—maybe we should have done aftercare—and I’m sorry I took that away from you, because I can tell you needed it just as much as me—But still, do not say that what you did was some unforgivable sin. You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart, I need you to believe me.”
For the first time in almost a week, Cas looked directly into his eyes. His walls broken down, laid bare before Dean. He seemed almost convinced of Dean’s words, and so Dean pushed on. “If anything, this is my fault for not letting you stay and finish the scene with me. I—I just didn’t want you to feel obligated…”
He trailed off, silence filling the room.
“Dean,” Cas’s voice was still gravely as ever, but the crying had seceded for now, “I am obligated. That’s the whole point of me being your Dom, I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of you, to know your limits and help you expand them—not break them.”
“But you didn’t break a limit, Cas. If I remember correctly, I was the one who asked for more, and you told me when you thought enough was enough. A bad Dom wouldn’t have known I needed to stop even when asking for the opposite. You knew, Cas, because you are a good Dom.”
Cas looked down as he considered Dean’s words.
“We both made mistakes, but neither of us is to blame…okay?”
His blue eyes shined as he gave a bleary nod, “O-okay,” Cas whispered, “I still want to do better though…I—I hold myself to a high standard while Domming and I need to keep it.”
Dean looked at Cas, a curious sadness in his eyes, “Is there a reason for that?”
Cas’s eyes shot up then just as quickly looked back down at the bed, “I—I think I’d rather not talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” Dean reached out a hand again, rubbing gingerly over Cas’s forearms, “No problem.”
The two men sat together on the bed, Cas leaning on Dean’s shoulder for support and Dean continuing to comfort his friend with physical touch. Eventually, the energy in the room shifted to something quiet and peaceful, not as melancholy as before. Dean could feel the relief coming off of both of them in waves.
He had been so worried that this was the breaking point for them, that either Cas was done scening with him, or maybe even their friendship had reached its end entirely. It pained him to think that this whole time Cas was suffering alone thinking that he did something wrong to Dean.
At least they were together now, and from here on out, they were never skipping aftercare again.
As the minutes passed, Dean became more and more stiff. He tried to ignore the feeling since he was holding the man he’s been missing for almost an entire week, but after a while, he realized he had to pee.
“Hey,” Dean murmured into Cas’s black hair, “I’m really sorry, but I gotta go.”
Immediately Dean could feel the tension take hold of Cas’s entire body, he pushed himself off Dean, clearing his throat, “Of course, yes, I—uh, I’m sorry…for keeping you so long.”
Dean eyed Cas with confusion, “Uh… you’re good. I just realized I had to go.” He let out a short laugh and lifted his feet over and off the bed.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Cas pointed towards the flannel and shoes Dean had taken off in the process of cuddling with him.
“Uh…why would I need those to go to the bathroom?”
“You’re—“ Cas looked between him and the bathroom door, “You’re not leaving?”
Dean chuckled, “Of course I’m not leaving, dummy.”
“Oh,” a small smile spread across Cas’s face as he started to blush.
“I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, feeling much more relieved, Dean opened the bathroom door and walked back into Cas’s room. He almost choked on his own spit when saw Cas standing by his dresser in nothing but his black boxers.
His back was to Dean, so he didn’t notice his presence at first. Dean was grateful because it meant he got to ogle Cas without him knowing.
He licked his lips
Despite having sex with Castiel on multiple occasions, Dean would never get over his raw beauty. From his skin, to his physique, to his ocean blue eyes—Cas was really carved out like a greek god. Dean was so lucky that he was the one that got to be with him exclusively.
Or at least, he figured it was exclusive.
Now that he thought about it, they never really discussed exclusivity. It’s not like Dean would be having sex with anyone else, but Cas did mention going to BDSM clubs so…maybe it’s possible he wanted to scene with other people.
The thought of Cas being with other people pained him deeply, although it wasn’t his place to say what Cas could and couldn’t do.
He should probably ask to make sure…
And hey, what better time than the present?
“Hey, Cas?”
Cas looked back over his shoulder as he pulled sweatpants up over his gloriously round ass, “Hmm?”
“I uh—I have a weird question…”
“Okay,” Cas, still shirtless, turned to face him, “What is it?”
Dean chewed the inside of his cheek, “I don’t remember if we ever talked about it, but um…”
Cas raised a brow.
“Did we talk about—about being exclusive or not?”
So many expressions filled Cas’s face, first surprise, then confusion, then a flash of hurt. “I don’t think we did…is there any particular reason why you’re asking?”
“No…but uh, I guess I just wanted to know because…”
“Because?” Cas sounded worried.
“Because I don’t think I can do this unless we’re exclusive.” Dean had to look away when he said the words. If this was a dealbreaker for Cas, he could lose everything…
To his relief, Cas exhaled with a smile on his face, “That’s wonderful to hear, Dean.” Dean's eyes shot up to look at him, “Because neither could I.”
“Oh. That’s great.” He said flatly, like it didn’t matter either way. His reddening cheeks, however, gave away his partialness on the matter.
Cas smirked, “Indeed it is.”
—
An hour later, Cas and Dean were sitting in the living room, snuggled close together on the couch. Dean explained to Cas how Gabriel called him this afternoon to get him to come over, which Cas was equal parts grateful and annoyed at, and then he told him that he was gone for the day until Cas decided to text him.
It was obvious neither of them wanted to be interrupted for a long while, so they decided to leave Gabe to his own devices in order to have a little more alone time.
They were currently watching—to Dean’s dismay—a Bee documentary. He didn’t complain though, Cas was still healing from his drop and if he wanted to watch some insects fly around while a British guy commented in the background, then so be it.
He did feel like there was a way to kick this up a notch though…
Without saying anything, Dean got up from his spot on the couch and walked over to the little table by the wall. He undid the case that held his collar, and took it out with gentle hands. Last week his new collar had come in, and Dean was being as careful with it as possible. It was a light, forest green color that had his name embroidered on the front, and “Property of Castiel,” on the back. It was smooth, and not overly tight.
A perfect fit.
He knew Cas was just being generous, but the fact that this was the first personalized collar Castiel had ever gotten for a sub, it made Dean feel special.
Surprisingly, Cas hadn’t noticed what Dean was doing, and so when he quietly slipped out of the room and down to the guest bathroom to change, Cas didn’t question it. After he felt properly refreshed, and stripped out of his remaining clothes, he returned to the living room, naked and collared.
He didn’t even wait for Cas’s reaction, he simply walked up to the couch, kneeling pillow in hand, and knelt, keeping his hands on his thighs and his head low. He heard a soft gasp from Cas, and then the documentary went quiet.
A large hand found its way to Dean’s hair, stroking gently.
Dean knew he shouldn’t but he looked up anyway, “Sir?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” Dean tried not to shy away as Cas looked at him like he’d hung the moon.
The sub cleared his throat, “May I kneel here for you? Y-you can keep the movie going—I just want to make you feel better, and I thought—”
“So thoughtful, my sweet boy.” Cas intercepted, “Yes, of course you may.”
Dean let out a deep breath he’d been holding and settled into his position. Even though he approved of this, Dean could tell Cas was hesitant about something.
“Here—” He moved to stand up, “Let me get something, I’ll be right back.”
Doing his best not to whimper in protest, Dean nodded.
When Cas returned to the couch, he had a package of fresh strawberries in hand—courtesy of Gabe. A low grumble came from Dean’s stomach when he saw them—he hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
Cas smirked slightly, “Thought you might want some.”
Wetting his lips, Dean nodded in a daze, “Yes, Sir.”
“Perfect. Then you just kneel there like a good boy, and I’ll feed them to you. How does that sound?”
Dean had a love hate relationship with scenes like this. You see, Dean was always a fast eater. When he started, he didn’t want to stop until his meal—or snack—was finished. The way Cas fed him was slow and methodical, he teased Dean with the food more than gave it to him honestly, and sometimes it frustrated Dean. On the other hand though, Dean enjoyed letting go and allowing Cas to take care of him in one of the most basic ways. He also knew, in this moment, Cas really needed to feel like he was taking care of him. Protecting him. If he can let his Dom do this one thing, then maybe he could come out of this drop even quicker.
“Good, Sir.” Dean smiled shyly.
“Sit back on your heels, and keep your hands in your lap. If I see you try to reach, then I will tie your hands, okay?”
“I won’t move my hands, Sir, I’ll be good.” His voice cracked a little at the end, giving light to his desperation.
Cas hummed as he leaned forward and laid a chaste kiss on Dean’s forehead, “I know you will. Always so good for me.”
The documentary resumed right as the first piece of bright red fruit was presented before Dean’s lips. The sub leaned in, taking a small bite from the tip. The strawberries were the perfect ripeness—a sweet juiciness with hints of sour at the end. Dean loved fruits, particularly berries, and he loved them even more when he got to eat them out of Cas’s hands.
After a while, the juices of the strawberries started running down Cas’s fingers. The Dom reached forward on the coffee table, a glint of playfulness in his eyes as he picked up a napkin to wipe it off. Dean didn’t protest in words, but he did whine embarrassingly loud when he realized what Cas was doing. He wanted to clean his fingers, he wanted to lick the sweet stickiness off his hands.
Cas was obviously suspicious of this, and with Dean’s embarrassing objection, his suspicions were confirmed. He grinned cockily down at his pleading sub, “Am I not allowed to clean myself?”
Another low sound came from Dean’s throat. At first, he cringed at himself, then he thought, who cared if he sounded desperate, it was just him and Cas anyway. He looked down at the ground, not answering his Dom.
Cas reached his dry hand forward and used two fingers to lift Dean’s chin upward, “Is there something you want?”
Dean replied almost indistinctly, “Yes, Sir…”
“Then ask for it.” As was always Cas’s main rule.
“P-please, Sir…May I suck your fingers? I can clean them, please...”
“Very well,” Cas extended his wet fingers, trailing them across Dean’s lips before pushing in. He gave Dean a slight nod once they were mostly inserted, and that little gesture was all he needed to start diving in. He twirled his tongue around the long fingers, enjoying the sugary taste mixing with the saltiness of Cas’s skin. Saliva pooled under his tongue and in the back of his throat, giving him the slickness he needed to suck up any remaining juice left on his hands. Sealing his lips entirely, Dean moved in a way that mimicked giving a blow job—it wasn’t even on purpose either, the movement was natural. He got so lost in the sensation that he didn’t notice when the drool began dripping out of the corners of his mouth as he attempted to push the digits further in.
Cas let out a breathless chuckle, “That’s good enough for now, thank you sweet boy.” He retracted his fingers and Dean fought the urge to chase them.
After finishing a few more pieces, Cas closed the rest of them in the container and pushed it to the middle of the table. Dean’s heart started thudding wildly in his chest as he thought about what Cas might want to do next.
Unfortunately, they didn’t immediately jump into the throes of passion. Instead, Cas laid a guiding hand on the back of his head, and brought it softly down onto his thigh. Regardless of his disappointment, Dean didn’t question it. He laid there obediently, letting himself settle into the warmth of his leg, drifting somewhere safe while Cas watched over him.
The documentary, which was ridiculously lengthy, continued to play as Dean knelt by Cas’s feet. Eventually it came to an end, and by the time it finally finished, Dean was half-way in subspace, floating contentedly. Cas nudged him a bit with his leg, alerting him out of his haze.
“There’s my good boy,” Cas stroked his thumb down Dean’s cheek, and Dean smiled drunkenly at him in return, “How are you feeling? If you need, we can end the scene here. I know it’s been a rough week for both of us.”
“I—” Dean thought for a moment. He hadn’t noticed until just now, but there was a prominent bulge in Cas’s sweatpants, and Dean himself wasn’t exactly flaccid. He didn’t want to overdo it either, but he figured if Cas was up for it, then so was he.
Really and truly, he was just dying for the chance to make his Dom feel good again. He didn’t even care if he came, he simply wanted to service Cas.
“Can I help you with—that—Sir?” Dean nodded towards Cas’s hard on.
“Oh—” Cas looked down at his pants and back up, “You don’t have to Dean—we can—”
“I want to,” Dean interrupted with fierce enthusiasm, “please…”
Cas breathed out a groaning sigh, “You will never cease to amaze me.”
And with that, he leaned forward and kissed Dean.
Hard.
Immediately, Dean’s arousal rocketed from a 6 to a million. They both instinctively grappled at one another, trying to bring the other as close as possible—which resulted in Dean whimpering into Cas’s mouth as he began climbing to straddle his thighs.
Once he was secure in his lap, Castiel devoured him.
He kissed with tongue and teeth, making Dean’s lips swollen and red—a pain that Dean enjoyed immensely. Then, Cas began licking along his jaw and towards his earlobe, where he bit the soft flesh that hung down, eliciting a sharp moan from Dean. If it was one thing Dean has learned from subbing with Cas, it’s that he loved to leave marks. Whether it be from spanking or hickies—his Dom became instantly hard just from seeing his marks of possession painting Dean’s skin.
Dean did too.
And telling from the way Cas was currently sucking and nibbling on his skin, he was going to love seeing the hickies that would surely be covering his neck tomorrow.
Each flick of his tongue or scrape of his teeth caused Dean to writhe a little more on his lap, which in turn, made Cas impossibly harder beneath him. It was a nonstop cycle of give and take and give and take and a heady need for contact, a need to feel.
It got to the point, where both men were panting for air and achingly stiff under their clothes. The passion was so thick and needy that Dean had almost forgotten himself, forgotten that this wasn’t just him and Cas. Thankfully, he avoided moaning Cas’s name instead of his title, because that definitely would not have ended well for him.
“I simply can’t get enough of you,” Cas growled, still catching his breath,
Dean stared at him with doe eyes, lips wet with spit and puffy from being tugged on by Cas’s teeth.
“Wanna…wanna suck you off, Sir. Please…let me…”
Another moan fell from his Dom’s lips. “While that offer is very tempting, there’s something I would like to do first if you are amenable.”
Dean nodded his head fervently, “Anything.”
Cas raised a devilish brow, “Be careful what you wish for.”
— (Cas’s POV)
When Castiel woke up this morning, this was not how he expected to be spending his day.
Gabriel had—irritatingly—been right, Cas had dropped. It’s been a while since he’s experienced something even close to this feeling, so he didn’t blame himself for not recognizing it. As a Dom, it wasn’t often that Cas dropped. Typically, his Dom drops were instant, something that happened in the moment and was resolved almost just as quickly.
This was the first time he’s dropped as a Dom for more than a day. He forgot how draining it was, sucking everything from him, his joy, his confidence, everything. The only time he had felt anywhere near this terrible during a drop was when he experienced his first sub drop.
This experience was different though. Instead of a numb, dull feeling of disgust that was paired with the sickening feeling of objectification, as a Dom, his drop entailed more feelings of depressing disappointment in himself, and an ultra critical train of thoughts that plagued him.
It was close enough, though. Close enough to one of the worst experiences of his life that it scared the shit out of him
It was being generous to call his first drop a ‘drop.’ It was more of a plummet, a free fall into a pit of despair and nothingness. To this day, he truly believed the only reason he survived was because of his brother. Even with his airy, carefree personality, Gabe cared fiercely about his little brother. It was difficult to make him angry, but if anyone hurt Cas, every barricade holding back his anger collapsed.
It was a miracle Barthalomew was still walking this Earth, honestly.
Well, as far as Cas knew, at least. It’s not like he was going to put any ounce of effort into finding out what happened to that piece of scum. Even thinking about him made Cas sick to his stomach. He didn’t know what he would do without his brother.
Or without Dean.
Cas was shocked Dean even showed up after the way he had treated him—not just the way Cas had handled their last scene, but also how he’d pushed Dean away when all he tried to do was reach out and comfort him. Cas burned with shame to think about his behavior.
But even despite all of that, Dean came the next day and tried again.
Thankfully, Gabe had talked some sense into both of them.
And now, they were back in the playroom.
When Dean had initiated a scene, Cas was unsure of himself. He was still a little shaky thinking about taking Dean into his care again…
But then was so gentle, and obedient, and he looked like he needed it so desperately. And after they finished making out on the couch with Dean looking so beautifully pliable and eager—Cas knew that he needed it too.
He had been planning to do this scene for a while, but with the drop, he didn’t get a chance. Since Dean was okay with using the playroom, Cas figured he could go ahead and try it with him now.
Dean was secured by his legs and arms to the St. Andrew’s cross, looking absolutely edible. Cas marveled that his sub would be giving this side of himself to someone as unworthy as Castiel, but Cas didn’t take it for granted one second. He drank up the way Dean looked at him, the need to please, to serve, and be good.
It was exactly that ‘need to please’ look in his eyes that was about to win Dean a plethora of rewards from Cas.
They had tried orgasm denial a few times in the past and in many different forms. One thing they haven’t tried yet was overstimulation. Maybe they’re libidos weren’t ones of horny teenagers but Cas knew he could ring more orgasms out of Dean than Dean himself probably thought—he just had to push him.
Of course, he would never push Dean past his limits—or never wanted to at least. But he knew that Dean was usually very open to trying new things, especially if it made Cas happy.
When he explained to his sub what he was planning to do for the continuation of their scene, there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with the all-consuming urge to obey his Dom and trust him to take care of him. Seeing Dean put his full trust in him after recent events, it hit Cas straight in the chest. He knew he never deserved Dean to begin with, but he was eternally grateful he somehow ended up being able to have him—even for this short amount of time. And it was in these particular moments especially, the ones where Dean was bound and at his will, looking at Cas with such powerful arousal that it could consume him, that Cas felt the most intensely.
Before he had tied Dean to the cross, he inserted a vibrating plug inside him. They’d only used that toy once or twice, and not because Dean didn’t like it—quite the opposite—he liked it too much. He could come within seconds if Cas put the toy at its highest setting—unless he was wearing a cock ring, of course. Which is why it made this toy the perfect fit for this scene.
Along with the plug, Cas was holding a regular old vibrating wand which he planned to use on Dean’s weeping cock. Not that he needed it—Dean was already shaking with lust and the plug was only on its lowest setting.
Deciding they should start this off hard and fast, Cas waited to use the wand, and instead smiled deviously at Dean as he turned the plug up two more notches. Almost instantly, Dean was squirming in his bonds and moaning obscenely. He must have been more sexually frustrated than Cas thought, because only a few seconds passed before he was already crying out.
“Sir…Jesus—f—uck….I’m gonna…Sir!” Dean sounded frantic, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to let go so soon.
Cas stalked forward, his head leaned into the crook of Dean’s neck, licking the sweat that had already begun to accumulate there. “Go ahead sweet boy, I know you can’t help it.” He nibbled at Dean’s ear, voice dark and husky, “Come for me.”
And Dean did, shaking fiercely in the hold of his restraints, chasing Cas’s mouth as he leaned back to look his sub in the eye. It was always so intoxicating, seeing Dean come for him. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, but thinking about other people getting to witness this before him—and probably after him—it made him burn with indignation.
The sensible, mature part of Cas wanted what was best for Dean, even if that didn’t include a future with him. But the small, selfish side of him, couldn’t help but preen at the satisfying sight of Dean falling apart under his ministrations. He couldn’t help it, the possessive spark, the one that he tried to bury when he was around Dean, peaked its evil head out sometimes to enjoy the moments where he could pretend Dean was his and his only.
As Dean was coming down, Cas continued to suck marks into his neck, ignoring the cum that was splattered across his thighs as well as on the floor. Between the heaving pants, Dean whispered, “Thank you…thank you, Sir…”
“Of course,” there was a hint of smugness in his voice, he knew Dean wouldn’t be thanking him here soon.
Before he attempted to get another orgasm out of Dean, he let him come down for a few minutes, keeping the plug at the lowest setting. As his sub went through his refractory period, Cas praised him, “You’re doing so good Dean, coming right when I tell you to,” his sub blushed, but didn’t hide from the praise—instead he looked directly into his Dom’s eyes, accepting everything he was given. He hadn’t always done this, so Cas was extremely proud of him for coming so far.
Still, he couldn’t help but tease him, “You really needed that didn’t you? Such a needy bottom. You didn’t even need a hand on your cock, isn’t that right?”
Apparently that was too much for Dean, he whimpered and looked away.
Cas hooked a finger under his chin and forced him to look up, “Don’t look away when I am speaking to you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. I love you like this—do you want to ridicule something I love?”
“N-no…” Dean shook his head, eyes wide.
“Then don’t hide from me when I praise you for it.” Cas raised a brow.
Dean submitted, “Yes, Sir—”
Right as the words left his mouth, Cas pushed the wand against Dean’s sensitive dick.
“Fuck!” Dean jerked back as much as he could, but he was tightly secured and couldn’t get far. Unable to escape the intense pleasure Cas was inflicting, he begged with pleading eyes, “Sir…I–I can’t—not yet…pleaseahhh….”
“Shhh,” Cas calmed him, “Yes you can. Just focus on the pleasure, Dean. It will feel wonderful in a moment.”
Dean didn’t look convinced, but he didn't protest any further. He did continue to whimper though, thrashing his head every time the vibrations became too powerful.
Cas wanted to test the waters.
With his free hand, he grabbed the plug’s remote from his pants pocket and turned it back up to the medium setting.
Dean became electric. He flailed on the cross, crying out in strangled, raspy moans. Cas could tell he was trying to form words, to beg his Dom to stop or slow down.
But partnered with his pleading shouts, was a building arousal, a wave that was forming fast. Cas could see it in his sub’s eyes, hear it in his garbled moans. He knew it was only a matter of time before Dean came again.
He was right, and within minutes, Dean was once again spilling over, his cum dripping onto the top of the vibrator. This time, he couldn’t even thank his Dom, he was so lost in the overload of endorphins filling his brain that all he could do was pant and let out beautiful little noises that only increased Cas’s own arousal.
“That’s it…” Cas uttered, “See? I knew you could do it, such a good boy.”
His sub continued to whimper, unable to respond otherwise.
This time, Cas didn’t give him much time to come down. His cock was still red and swollen—no doubt hyper-sensitive to any touch—but instead of focusing on that, he turned the plug up to the absolute highest setting it could go.
“Please!...” Dean choked out in surprise, “I can’t! I c—”
“I know you can,” Cas was now panting along with his sub, almost out of his mind with lust, “Please, sweetheart. For me, just try.”
Dean squeezed his eyes so hard that tears streamed out of the corners. The sobs that bellowed from his chest almost made Cas stop, but then Dean began nodding, “O–okay…”
His entire body was trembling with titillation—chest flushed red, and sweat streaks trickling down his abdomen. The vibrations kept Dean in a constant state of intense arousal, which, from what Cas could see by the look on his face, was turning his brain into utter mush. This was certainly going to be the last orgasm he managed to get out of Dean. Trying to get anymore would be too risky, and neither of them were in the right state of mind to be playing with limits right now.
A new Dom may not be as attuned to a sub’s ability to come multiple times, especially in Dean’s case, but Cas had gotten to know Dean so intimately that could tell when he was reaching his end.
And what an end it was going to be.
Cas had turned off the vibrator he held in his hand, deciding that trying to stimulate his dick would be too painful at this point. Right now, he was counting on the furious buzzing of the plug nestled inside Dean to finish the job.
It seemed to be working.
Drool was practically leaking from Dean’s mouth as it was left agape, his head hanging low on tired shoulders. His muscles never stopped shaking, but his mind was gone, drifting somewhere else. The only sounds he made anymore were the most pitiful whimpers Cas had ever heard come out of his sub. He was like a limp body being pushed up and up towards a precipice of pleasure he’d soon fall straight off of.
The phone in Cas’s pants pocket felt heavy, he wanted so badly to take it out and record his sub, keep the memory of him being completely taken apart under Castiel’s control.
Dean wasn’t in the right mind to give his consent for that though, so instead, he focused his attention on mouthing at the sensitive spots on Dean’s neck. The hickies were already starting to darken from their makeout session on the couch, but Cas couldn’t care less. If Dean had to go to work tomorrow sporting Cas’s marks, then so be it. Dean would wear it like a trophy anyway—puffing out his chest and making up some bullshit story about rocking a woman’s world the night before. But Cas knew. Cas knew that he was the one who put those marks there, who made Dean submit and revel in the pleasure only he could provide.
And it was enough for him.
It was enough, in this moment, to witness Dean writhe on the cross, eyes rolling back in pleasure as a dry orgasm shook through him.
The breath was stolen from both of their lungs. Dean gasped, trying to regain some semblance of consciousness. And Cas’s matched the heaving pants—only, his were caused by frustration, not overstimulation.
He had originally planned to have Dean suck him off after this—per Dean’s request—but now he wasn’t so sure he was going to be able to stay awake long enough to do anything. Which was fine, Cas didn’t need to get off, not as much as he needed to take care of his sub.
After a few minutes of kissing and doting on Dean, he was finally brought back to reality. Droopy eyes stared at Cas, blinking the fog away to focus in on his Dom. “That—“ Dean croaked, his throat no doubt dry as a desert from shouting so much. The painful sensation didn’t seem to dissuade him from trying though, “That…was…” He swallowed, wincing as his throat moved dryly, “I’ve n-never felt anything…like that…”
Cas smiled warmly, hands caressing Dean’s sides. Their faces were close, “How did you like it?”
Dean licked his lips, considering the question, “It was…good.”
“Just good?” Cas chuckled lightly.
“I—yeah. Can’t really think right now…ask me later…” Dean huffed out a sigh, leaning as much as he could into Castiel.
Pride swelled in Cas’s chest. Dean had tried something new, and he had done it with such eager obedience, Cas just wanted to pamper him with affection.
Anxious to get to aftercare, he quickly undid Dean’s restraints, rubbing his wrists and ankles tenderly where they had been chaffed by the leather. Dean breathed out an exhale, content to let Cas take care of him.
When Dean was fully off of the cross, Cas gave him one last deep, sensual kiss, then he started leading him towards the bed. He felt a hint of resistance and the shaking of Dean’s head from where it was nuzzled in his neck.
“N-no…” Dean murmured, mostly to himself, “Sir…”
Cas stopped moving and leaned back to get sight of his sub’s face, “What’s wrong, my beautiful boy?”
Dean stared at him like Cas had forgotten something obviously important. The look made Cas feel scared, had he messed up already?
“You...” Dean half-whispered, head nodding at Cas’s crotch.
Oh.
Cas had almost forgotten about his raging hard-on. He had been so consumed with fussing over Dean, that it had slipped his mind how turned on he was. A small flash of guilt burned through him, “don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he smiled, “let me worry about you.”
“I—” Dean hesitated, his face relaying feelings of caution, he didn’t want to break a rule, “But you said…”
There was a pause, Cas thought about what he’d promised Dean before they came into the playroom…Dean can't truly want to give Cas a blowjob right now, he could barely stand for christ sake. Cas shook his head, “No, Dean. You aren’t…you’re exhausted. Let’s just get you some aftercare and—”
“I can do it,” Dean protested with pleading eyes, “I want to, Sir. Please…”
“Dean…” Cas felt conflicted. He wasn’t sure if Dean wanted it because he felt like he had to repay Cas, or if he wanted it simply because it was something he craved doing, “Please don’t feel like you have to exchange…services…for me allowing you to come, Dean. I don’t need anything but your obedience and submission, and you’ve already given me so much of that today.”
Dean ducked his head shyly, “But…”
He trailed off, giving up.
“Dean?”
“You take such good care of me, C—Sir…I want to do the same for you, please.”
With pursed lips, Cas looked towards the bed and back to Dean. Well, if they were going to do this, he at least wasn’t allowing Dean to kneel.
“Alright,” he relented softly, “come with me.” He pulled Dean towards the bed, but his sub’s protest renewed as he fought the guidance. “Trust me, Dean,” Cas reassured him.
Not fully convinced, but too nervous to disobey a direct order from his Dom, Dean followed hesitantly to the bed.
With gentle hands, Cas directed Dean to lay sideways on the mattress on his back, his head barely hanging off the side. Hungrily, Dean wet his lips, he was starting to see where this was going.
Cas got into position in front of Dean’s head, “If you’d still like to have me come in your mouth, then we can do it this way—with you laying here, letting me take you. Or, if you’d rather be a more active participant, we can wait until you have more energy. Which would you like, Dean?”
Taking in the sight below him had Cas’s dick twitching in his sweats. Droplets of moisture still clung to Dean’s long lashes and his deliciously wet, plump lips were parted in heady anticipation. What turned him on the most, though, was the look in his sub’s eyes. The utter starvation. A primal need, an urge to take Cas, to allow him entrance into his body for his pleasure. It was a miracle he was able to see that look directed towards him, but he didn’t take it for granted.
“Take me, Sir.” Dean whispered, a challenging note creeping into his voice.
“Fuck…” Cas growled, surprising himself.
One hand cupped the side of Dean’s face, and the other pushed down his sweats, revealing a rock-hard cock that was red and leaking. Gripping the base, Cas guided himself to Dean’s lip, smearing a bit of his precum there before slowly sliding into the warm mouth. Dean eagerly unhinged his jaw, prepared to take the hefty length of his Dom.
It didn’t take long to work his member into the back of Dean’s throat, barely touching the smooth flesh with his tip. It was a blessing that his sub didn’t have much of a gag reflex, it made this experience far more enjoyable for both of them.
His lack of a gag reflex also meant that they could do something like this—Cas, sliding in and out, his left hand letting go of his dick and gripping at the short strands of Dean’s hair, and Dean, taking everything with stride, happily content to just be a vessel of Castiel’s pleasure, a toy for his use.
Dean’s deep moans vibrated against Cas’s dick, pushing him closer to the finish. He thrusted wildly, being careful not to bruise Dean’s throat as much as he could help it. “Jesus—fucking—christ—” each sloppy push into Dean’s mouth made an obscenely wet sound, it reverberated off of the playroom walls. “You feel so wonderful Dean, perfectly made for me…” Dean moaned enthusiastically, trying to nod—well, as much as he could with Cas’s almost nine inch cock filling his mouth.
With the amount of time he’s been waiting to give himself relief, it didn’t take long for him to come hot and thick down Dean’s throat, his only warning being a quick grunt of “I’m coming…” followed by Dean’s unabashed moans of consent.
Not a single drop was left when he pulled out of Dean’s mouth, only the trail of spit hung between his lips and the tip of Cas’s cock. Cas drank up the sight as he came down from his orgasm, and Dean licked up the last remnants of Cas’s spend—savoring the taste.
Equally satisfied, the two men made their way to the top of the bed, arms wrapping around their torsos, clinging to each other. It had probably been about an hour of playtime overall, and mixed with the emotionally draining week they’d both experienced, it didn’t take long for them to drift to sleep.
When they woke up a half an hour later, limbs entangled with limbs, Dean made an off-hand comment that took Cas by surprise, “Why’s this bed s’fucking hard when your bedroom one‘s s’cushy…” The complaint was murmured into the bare skin of Cas’s chest, which moved up and down with laughter after registering Dean’s words.
“Would you like to move there to finish aftercare?”
Dean’s eyes shot open wide, almost like he hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud. “Oh—um…no that’s—uh, that’s okay. I don’t want to invade your space, y’know?”
“It’s not invading if I’m inviting, Dean,” Cas pointed out.
“Still…”
Cas’s heart sank a little at the thought that Dean didn’t want to go to Cas’s room because it would be blurring too many lines, mixing fantasy with reality. Dean must have noticed his dismay because he opened his mouth to apologize—most likely—but Cas interrupted before he could say anything, “I’ll make a mental note to get a mattress topper.”
Dean groaned, “As long as it’s not one of those granny ones.”
“Granny?”
“Y’know, the mattress toppers that are super old and foamy, like the ones grandparents have?”
“Oh. I never met my grandparents,” Cas said flatly. He cringed inwardly after he said it, not wanting to sound insensitive about the subject. It was just, when it came to matters of family—besides Gabe—Cas didn’t have much of an emotional investment or attachment to blood relatives.
Much to Cas’s discomfort, an awkward silence fell over the room for a few—very long—minutes. Apparently, the little fun fact about Cas’s past prompted another surprising, and probing question from Dean.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“Were you…were you ever a sub?”
Startled, Cas stuttered to reply, “I—yes. How did you—”
“Gabe.” Dean quickly explained.
“Ah.”
“Yeah…”
Cas furrowed his brow, “What else did he tell you?”
“Not much, don’t worry. When I asked him for an explanation, he said it was for you to tell me. I know right now might not be the best time…and with the drop, the last thing I want to do is bring up bad memories—”
“No. No it’s alright, Dean, Gabe’s right—unfortunately. I do need to tell you eventually…and honestly,” Cas cleared his throat, “right now might be the best time. It can help you understand a little more context about my drop.”
“Okay,” Dean whispered gently, “But no pressure, Sir. You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to tell.”
“Thank you,” Cas did his best to sound completely sincere, because he was.
With Dean still laying on Cas’s chest, breathing deeply, Cas began carding his fingers through the sandy hair, trying to distract himself from the feelings of anxiety that always came with talking about this.
“I found the BDSM community when I was twenty. I was in my third year of college, and I had just joined a new friend group. One of the people in the group, Balthazar was his name, was into BDSM, and often visited clubs to participate in scening or to watch scenes. I was curious, so I decided to go along with him one day.”
“Wait…” Dean interjected, “How did you go to the club if you were only 20?”
“Let’s just say, Balthazar had a very strong…influence.”
Dean nodded, smiling,
“My first night there I met a man named Bartholomew. He was 27, at the time. Since I was an ‘adult,’ I didn’t think a 7 year age gap would be that significant. I was wrong.”
Dean pushed himself onto an elbow, staring at Cas with simmering rage, “What did he do?”
“Well, nothing at first. I actually came onto him. I was young and excited to try something new, he was attractive and extremely confident in himself. It wasn’t until later that I realized his confidence was nothing but a thin veil covering a slew of insecurities.”
Cas took a deep breath.
“I went into a private room with him that night, despite the better judgment of my friend, and we had sex. It wasn’t a scene, per se, but just borderline. Bart was naturally domineering, so I didn’t mind experimenting and taking the role of a sub, since I hadn’t done any of this before. We both quickly became addicted to one another, and after I gave him my number, it wasn’t long before he texted asking to meet again. One thing led to another, and eventually we started dating.”
“For how long?”
“Over the next two years. The first year really wasn’t bad. He taught me a lot of things about the community, and I learned how to sub—as well as Dom, just from watching him. I always knew I wasn’t quite the right fit for the role I slipped into, but I enjoyed our scenes enough that I didn’t have a good reason to ask to switch or to try and leave. It wasn’t until the second year that…”
Cas’s voice broke towards the end of his sentence. A burning sensation stung his eyes and the bridge of his nose.
“Cas…” Dean comforted him, forgoing the proper title.
“I um…” he sniffled, trying to recompose himself, “I didn’t see it at first. I was happy. Content with my life and the fact that I had a relationship—which, I can look back now and honestly say was only a relationship of a sexual nature. If we went on dates, it was either because I dragged him begrudgingly along, or because they were guaranteed to end in rough—sometimes painful—sex.”
Dean clenched his jaw,
“Over the second year, Bartholomew became more aggressive, cold. He said he wanted to implement more rules, more punishments, and he wouldn't even give grace for my busy school schedule. For example, if he wanted me back at his apartment by a certain time, I had to be there—no matter how late a class went, or how badly I needed to study in the library, and if I wasn’t back in time, he would punish me.”
At this point, Dean was fuming beside him. Cas could tell he was trying to hide it so as to not upset him further, but there was only so much he could do.
“The worst part was that I thought I deserved it. He manipulated me into thinking that being a sub came first in my life, and being a person came second. My friends tried to point his behavior out to me, but then he just isolated me even more, and brainwashed me into thinking they were bad friends. I went along for the longest time, silently suffering and blaming myself for it. Then…”
There was a long pause of silence. It has been a long time since he’s talked about this with anyone but Gabe or a therapist. And never has it been in this much detail. For a minute he questioned whether he could even say it at all, but then Dean’s hand reached forward and entwined in his. It was just the anchor he needed.
“One night we were scening. I was exhausted from studying for exams, but Bartholomew was particularly horny and insisted that we do something. He came up with a scene that involved bondage, and had me face down on the bed, c-completely immobilized. He used a cane on me for the first time during a scene that wasn’t supposed to be a punishment.” Eyes squeezed shut, Cas pushed on, “He was fierce with it and after he beat me for a solid twenty minutes, he started trying t-to enter me…dry.”
“God…” Dean spat sharply under his breath, anger directed towards some imaginary image of a man he’d never met.
“For the first time in our two year relationship, I used my safe word and Bartholomew did absolutely nothing. I thought he just didn’t hear me at first…but after screaming it over and over…I realized he just didn’t care. I tried t-to fight it, I tried to get out, but it was impossible…He made me—” he choked on his words, “And…I—”
“Shhh,” Dean scooted up the bed, positioning himself against the headboard and taking Cas into his arms. Cas felt a pang of guilt—he should be the one cradling Dean in his arms—but there was a deeper part of him that didn’t care, this was exactly what he needed right now. “It’s okay Cas, you can stop there.” Grateful for the permission, Cas let the dam break.
For the second time today, Cas sobbed into Dean’s arms. He tried not to think about how pathetic he must look, relying on Dean’s embrace to shelter him, to protect him from an invisible threat. Instead, he surrendered to the comfort, his hands finding purchase in the warmth of Dean’s skin.
At first, the crying seemed endless. The emotional whirlwind from the past week only dragged out the whole process, leaving him helplessly laid bare before Dean once again.
Maybe they shouldn't have scened…
Although, it’s not like that’s what caused his breakdown.
This had to happen at some point, it’s something he’s hidden from Dean for a long time. And knowing now might help him better understand some of his processes while Domming, like his need for constant, explicit consent, and a desire to make his sub feel completely comfortable within their own limits, while also trying to expand them.
Being a better Dom—no, a better man than Batholomew—was always his top priority when he finally decided to get back into the community. He promised himself that he’d never even get close to that point, he’d never betray his sub’s trust.
And now that his sub was Dean? It wasn’t even a thought.
Once the silence between trembling sobs became longer and longer, Dean carefully asked Cas another question.
“Why didn’t you leave?—The life, I mean. Why did you go back to BDSM after having such a horrible experience?”
Cas tried to breathe through his stuffy nose, “After everything happened, I went into a severe state of depression. If it wasn’t for Gabe…it’s very possible I wouldn’t even be here right now.”
Dean tightened his grip around Cas’s shoulders.
“I went to a facility—which helped a lot. And after six months of recovery, and desperately trying to make up for the amount of school I missed…I thought it was time I made a decision for myself.”
“What decision?”
“Whether I wanted to blame who and not what. It wasn’t scening that was the problem, it was the man I scened with.”
Dean nodded his understanding.
“And, sure, maybe I do have a problem with subbing. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to try that again…but I knew that I wasn’t going to let what Batholomew did to me determine how I lived the rest of my life. At least, not completely.”
There was something akin to pride shining in Dean’s eyes, “That’s really brave, Cas.”
Castiel huffed a short laugh, “Well, it took me a long time to get to this point.”
“Doesn’t matter. You overcame the unimaginable, man. That’s not something to take lightly.”
A warm feeling spread through Cas’s chest, “Thank you, Dean.”
A few more minutes of comfortable silence passed until Dean inquired softly, “What happened to him?”
There was a blank, almost dead stare that overtook Castiel’s expression. “I don’t know. That night was the last time I ever saw him. Could be dead in a ditch for all I care.”’
“I hope he is,” Dean decided, leaning further into Cas’s side.
—
The two men rested in each other's embrace for the next hour or so. They were just on the brink of sleep when they were startled awake by a loud banging noise and then the sound of Gabe’s voice ringing from down the hall.
“I swear to god, if I hear you two fucking!—” he shouted.
Cas shot up.
Shit. He forgot to ever text him…
Dean jerked his head up and rubbed his eyes sleepily, “Wha…?”
“Cas!” Gabe yelled from the living room.
“One moment!” Cas called back.
Cas rolled out of bed, while Dean reached for him making a grumbling sound of protest.
“I’ll be right back,” Cas chuckled, pulling Dean’s grip from off his wrist.
By the time Castiel dressed in his sweats and made it out to the living room, Gabe was standing with his hands on his hips and his foot tapping impatiently on the ground.
“Sorry…” Cas said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, “We were uh… we were just sleeping.”
Gabe raised a brow, “Sure.”
“No really, Gabe. I mean—we did do something…earlier…but we’re done.”
“Good,” Gabe sighed, “Well, I’m not getting a hotel just so y’all can pretend you’re not dating while naked cuddling. So either, keep it down, or take it somewhere else.”
“I um…” Cas looked back down the hall, “I think Dean will probably want to go home.”
Gabe nodded, then eyed Cas warily, “So, how did it go? You look a lot better.”
“I-it went good…I uh—I told him.”
The confession took Gabe by surprise, “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“And how did that go?”
Cas exhaled, “As you’d imagine.”
Gabe looked him up and down, “Well, I’d give you a hug lil bro, but Dean’s prolly been drooling all over you, so y’know.”
Cas rolled his eyes, but smiled, “Thank you for coming Gabe—And knocking some sense into us, too.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” Gabe smirked, “Now I’m gonna go use your shower.”
“Okay—”
“But no round two’s!” Gabe pointed his finger, face serious as ever.
“Got it.”
— (Dean’s pov)
Dean stood by Cas’s front door, belongings in hand. It was always so awkward when they got to this point. Now especially because of Gabe sitting in the living room pretending to watch TV when it was obvious he was trying to listen in on their conversation.
“Sorry about him.”
Dean waved a hand in the air, “No big deal. I guess we kinda owe him, anyway.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that though,” Cas warned, “Or he’ll never let you live it down.”
“Noted,” Dean laughed.
Another few seconds of awkward silence passed, and just as Dean was about to retreat hastily through the door, Cas reached forward and brought him into a tight hug. It was surprising, but welcomed. He hugged him back, burying his nose in the crook of Cas’s neck.
He wished he could just stay and pretend that he got to have Cas like this all the time. Pretend he could protect him from every bad feeling, and keep him safe from tortured memories.
But it wasn’t his place.
When they broke the hug, Dean left his hand lingering a bit on his shoulder, “Still on for Sam’s graduation this upcoming Saturday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Cas smiled.
“Great. Well, uh, I’ll let y’all catch up,” he nodded towards the living room, “See you later, Cas.”
“Goodbye, Dean.”
Notes:
Hope that was healing enough for you guys, sorry again for the wait!
Next chapter is Sam's graduation! As well as John riding in a car with Cas for nearly 24 hours :).
I love reading your comments! Thank you for leaving them. <3
Chapter 10
Summary:
- Switching POV's
- Brief BDSM scene / smut
- TW's: mentions of child abuse / neglect, homophobia / use of homophobic slurs
Notes:
Okay, so I know I said we would get to Sam's graduation...but the beginning of the chapter ended up being longer than I thought it would, so I decided to split it up. There was just so much fluff to be written! (And angst, sorry not sorry). Okay, anyway, I hope you love this chapter as much as I do!
(Also, today marks officially three months of me writing this fic! And we're halfway there. Yay!)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Fuck!”
Dean’s sopping wet knees burned and ached from kneeling on the hard ground for so long. He was covered from head to toe in sweat, and now he was drenched in a diluted fabuloso cleaning solution. During his attempt to scrub the floor of his apartment’s kitchen, he had knocked over a small bucket filled with the liquid, creating a giant puddle that was slowly creeping towards the living room carpet.
That stuff was bright purple, if it stained his carpets he would be fucked.
As he quickly began laying down sheets of paper towels, he internally cursed himself for being so ridiculous—not for spilling the cleaning solution, but for giving so much of a damn about how his stupid apartment looked when Cas was only coming over to spend one freaking night.
They decided at the beginning of the week that it would be best for Cas to spend the night so they could leave early in the morning to pick up Dean’s dad and head to California. It made the most sense for Cas to sleep at his apartment because it was closer to Lawrence than Cas’s house was. At the same time though, they have been spending so much time at Castiel’s house for over a month now, that Dean’s feeling a bit self conscious about his place.
It used to be that the majority of their hangouts were spent at Dean’s apartment, but after having the luxury of Cas’s two bedrooms, bathrooms, and a full kitchen—Dean’s space was feeling a bit cramped.
Cas was already gonna have to spend the night on his old velvety couch, so Dean thought the least he could do was make the place a little more presentable.
So far he has vacuumed everywhere, washed anything that could be thrown in the washer, dusted, done the dishes, and cleaned his whole bathroom. He was going to stop after his bathroom, but he still had some of his mop water left and thought he could use it to make the kitchen tiles look a little less gritty.
That was a mistake, obviously, and now he was stuck with smelling the overpowering scent of fabuloso as it filled his entire apartment.
Once he was finished cleaning his mess, he decided to light a few of his favorite candles—all of which were either apple pie or cinnamon scented. They weren’t super strong, but they helped to fight the smell a little.
Or maybe it was just giving him even more of a headache…
Dean groaned inwardly. He still had to take a shower and find something to fix Cas to eat—oh, and pack.
Deciding that packing was the most urgent task to be completed, he set to work.
Usually packing took him 20 minutes max, but since he was going to be traveling with Cas, he was a little more conscious about how he’s going to look. He felt a bit like a girl, trying on different outfits in front of his cheap body mirror, turning at different angles to see how a pair of pants or shirt looked on him. And because of his newfound attention to style, it took him twice as long to pack everything he needed for the trip—which also meant that he ran out of time sooner than he thought he would.
By the time he looked at the clock, he had 30 minutes left until Cas arrived.
So much for taking a shower before dinner.
Oh well.
With only thirty minutes to make something to eat, Dean decided spaghetti was the best route because of its quick preparation, so he began working. Cooking was kind of therapeutic for Dean. He had done it a lot growing up, making meals for Sammy, or packing his lunch for school—but even if he hadn’t had to learn to cook so young, he still thinks he would enjoy doing it in his adulthood.
He had just finished plating the steaming pile of pasta when he heard a knock at his door. He wiped his hands on a damp towel and went to answer it.
Dean smiled as soon as he saw him, “Heya, Cas.”
“Hello,” Cas replied mid-yawn.
He looked pretty tired, especially while carrying all his bags—and by the looks of it, he hadn’t taken a shower either.
The thought made dangerous ideas pop into Dean’s head.
“So uh…” Dean stepped out of the way, letting Cas through, “I made us some spaghetti.”
“Smells good,” Cas acknowledged.
“Hopefully it tastes even better,” Dean grinned.
Cas nodded tiredly then walked over to the living area and set his duffle bag and backpack on the couch, “I assume I’m sleeping here?” He said it more as a passing comment and not a genuine question, but Dean was just about to respond anyway when he stopped himself.
His friend already looked so exhausted, and he’s the one who worked the whole day—Dean should just take the couch.
“Uh no,” Dean walked back towards the kitchen island and began rinsing the dishes he was done using, back turned to Cas, “I’ll sleep on the couch. My um—my back has been killing me on my bed, so.”
Cas scoffed, “Like the couch would be any better. I know what you’re trying to do, Dean.”
“No, really man, I’m serious.” He whirled his head around, hands still washing the dishes, “I’m like an old man now, can’t have the mattress be too soft or too hard. The couch happens to be just right.”
“Dean…”
“You ready to eat?”
Cas threw a slight glare at him for changing the subject, “This conversation isn’t over.” He wagged a finger playfully in front of him as he walked towards the two seater dining room table.
“Whatever you say, Sir.” Dean didn’t know what possessed him to respond like that, but from the flustered look on Cas’s face, he would say it was worth it.
—
The dull yellow light from above his dining room table flickered slightly as they ate. It wasn’t a candlelit dinner by any means, but Dean cherished the sense of domesticity. He loved to imagine what it would be like to make Cas dinner every night and enjoy it together in the comfort of their own home.
His daydream was interrupted when Cas made a particularly satisfied moan while chewing on his food. Dean smirked, “What were you saying about me making noises while eating again?”
Cas glowered at him, but Dean could tell there was no real heat there. Instead he pointedly ignored Dean and continued to stuff his face full of the saucy noodles.
“Jesus, did you even eat anything today?” Dean chuckled while twirling his own noodles on a fork.
Half-way done chewing, Cas responded with his mouth slightly full, “I had uh…I had some granola before work…but that’s pretty much it.”
Dean stared at his friend in disbelief, “Cas…man, you gotta eat. Especially for someone with your kinda job.”
“I know. I was just really busy today,” he finished swallowing, “Didn’t even have time to shower—which, by the way,” Cas picked up his water, “I’ll need to use your shower later if that’s okay.”
Just in that moment—and completely unrelated—something got caught in the back of Dean’s throat, sending him into a coughing fit. He banged on his chest with his fist and brought a glass of water up to his lips. When whatever was stuck finally became dislodged, he glanced at Cas, “Um–yeah, that’s fine…”
At first, Cas was more confused than anything, but then the corners of his mouth turned upwards in amusement, “You’re supposed to chew your food before you swallow it, Dean,” he remarked, staring smugly at Dean from over his drinking glass.
“Yeah, and you’re supposed shut the fuck up and worry about yourself, but we don’t always get what we want, do w—” Dean was cut short by the feeling of a wet spaghetti noodle landing on his face after being flung through the air.
Cas couldn’t contain his laughter—he lurched forward and actually fucking wheezed with how hard he was laughing. Dean scowled at him, noodle still dangling from the bridge of his nose, “You’re a child, you know that?”
His friend didn’t respond, just continued to laugh and point at Dean like he was a freaking clown. Dean flung the noodle back at Cas, cursing when it landed on the ground beside him and not on his shirt where he was aiming. That made Cas laugh even more, unfortunately, and it was at least another minute before he stopped.
“Whooh—” Cas exclaimed while coming down from his giggle fit, “I’m sorry Dean, I couldn’t help it.”
“Yeah well I guess we’ll see if I ever make you food again,” Dean crossed his arms.
Cas smiled at him, but there was a hint of concern there that was worried he actually crossed a boundary, “Here,” Cas leaned back in his chair and opened his arms up, “I’ll give you a free shot.”
Dean was just about to scoff and say something like I’m not immature, like you. But then he was overcome with the overwhelming urge to get back at Cas, so he decided to show him he wasn’t beneath a little food war.
Instead of throwing a singular noodle, Dean got a scoop on his fork and bent it backwards, releasing just as quickly, resulting in a good handful of noodles and sauce splattered all over Cas’s beige shirt.
“Wha—” Cas looked down at his chest and back up at Dean, “That’s not fair!”
“Hey, you started it,” Dean smirked and shrugged.
“That’s it,” completely disregarding his fork, Cas reached his hand into what was left of his pile of spaghetti and threw it at Dean. Because of the large amount he threw, it didn’t go very far, but it did end up covering Dean’s thighs.
And the worst part?
Dean was wearing shorts.
Not only was the slightly cool spaghetti sauce a sensory nightmare on his bare skin, but his kitchen floor—which he had spent the majority of the day cleaning—was now covered in food.
Cas could see the shift in Dean’s eyes and he quickly retreated right as Dean jumped out of his chair to grab him. Like a fucking child, Cas ran behind the small kitchen island, making Dean chase him around in circles. They went on for a solid minute, Cas shrieking and laughing anytime Dean got close to him, and Dean, trying not to slip on sauce while chasing him. Thankfully, his friend had enough sense to stay in the tiled area so as not to make a mess on the carpet, but that attention to detail did little to extinguish Dean’s rage.
“Get. The. Fuck. Over. Here!” Finally, Dean caught Cas from behind, wrapping his arms around his torso right as they came crashing into the fridge.
“Shit—“ Cas groaned from where his face had been slammed into the steel surface.
Dean sneered playfully from behind his shoulder, “That’s what you get.”
“Fine…you win.” Cas said with a dramatic sigh.
At this point, they were both completely covered in the red sauce, noodles sticking to their skin and smelling strongly of tomato and garlic. Dean peeled himself off of Cas’s back and looked around at the damage they’d done.
It could probably be a lot worse, but he was still not looking forward to cleaning this up.
Cas seemed to notice, “Don’t worry Dean, I’ll clean it up.”
“No, we—we can do it together.” he gave a half-smile and shrugged, “I’m not exactly innocent either.”
“Fair enough,” Cas laughed.
It didn’t take long to clean up with both of them working together—which Dean was grateful for, because if he had to spend another minute with tomato sauce caked on his thighs and arms he was actually gonna lose his shit.
Right as he was putting the last dish in the sink—he’ll wash them later—Cas declared from behind him, “I call dibs on the shower first.”
Dean turned around sharply, ready to protest, but Cas’s smirk told him he was just kidding. Honestly, Dean would have let Cas go first if he wanted, it was just…
He had a better idea.
Wiping his hands dry, Dean opened his mouth to ask a question, a shy sense of nervousness making him duck his head, “I thought maybe…”
Cas looked at him, his head tilted.
“Um—maybe, if you want—a-and you don’t have to, but if you want to—we could…take one together?”
Mortification washed over Dean during the next few seconds of awkward silence, he almost thought Cas wasn’t going to respond at all.
“Are you…” Cas shifted his feet, “are you suggesting we do a scene?”
Oh.
Right.
He forgot he can’t just ask to do coupley things with Cas without his neck being wrapped in a collar—But hey, if that was the only way he could get what he wanted, then he’d do it.
“Sure, why not?”
“You want to do a scene…while we’re covered in spaghetti?”
Dean was blushing furiously, sweat starting to mix with the sauce already coating his skin, “I—I—just forget it…nevermind.” He began walking towards his bedroom, but just as he was passing Cas, his friend stuck a hand out to stop him.
“I didn’t say no, Dean.”
Dean turned to face him, eyes full of hope.
“We can, if you really want to. It just can’t be too long.”
“That’s fine,” Dean assured.
“Alright then, follow me,” Cas instructed like they were going to his bedroom and not Dean’s.
“W-wait, uh…what about my collar?”
Something close to embarrassment flashed over Cas’s features, “Oh um…I actually—”
“You brought it?” Dean interjected with surprise.
“Well, no, but I brought something else…” He walked over to the couch and unzipped the front pocket of his backpack. He pulled out something small and made of brown leather. When he held it up, Dean could see it was a simple leather bracelet. “It’s um…it’s what I like to use for…public…scenes…if my sub doesn’t feel comfortable wearing a neck collar.”
Dean’s surprise shifted to amusement, he smiled deviously at Cas, “Wow, big guy—you were really sure of yourself, huh?”
Obviously flustered and self-conscious, Cas stuttered, “I-I wasn’t going to say or insinuate anything. I just grabbed it last minute…just in case.”
“Well, I guess it’s good you got it then,” Dean beamed.
Relieved that his friend wasn’t angry with him, Cas smiled in return.
“Although, we can’t exactly bring that in the shower,” he pointed out.
Cas nodded, “True, but I have another solution for that.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It may seem silly—but if I ever want to scene with my sub somewhere where they cannot wear their collar, then I simply have them say ‘collar on’ and ‘collar off’ before and after the scene.”
“Huh.” Dean nodded slowly, sticking his bottom lip out thoughtfully, “That works for me.”
“Good, great—um, well, how about you go in your room and get ready for the shower, and I will wait here until you're done. When I come in, you can choose to say ‘collar on’ if you’d like to continue.”
“Yesss, Sir!” Dean teased. Cas threw him a warning look.
— (Cas’s POV)
When Cas walked in, Dean was kneeling by his dresser, completely naked. It was a little comical considering he was still covered in pasta sauce, but Cas was too, so it evened out.
“Do you want to play, Dean?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Cas waited a few seconds for Dean to say the magic words, but it never came. He cleared his throat to see if that would prompt Dean to do it, but he remained kneeling with his head down, not paying attention.
“Dean? What do you need to say?”
Realization struck him and he quickly confirmed, “Oh!—right, uh, collar…on. Collar on, Sir.”
“Very good. You may stand.”
Dean did so with a lot more grace than when they first started this dynamic, it made Cas’s chest fill with pride.
“I’m going to strip now, you may go start the water and get it hot for us.”
“Yes, Sir.” Dean replied, almost giddy.
Cas felt giddy too.
When Castiel finished getting naked, he walked into the bathroom. Dean was leaning in the walk-in shower, enjoying the steam that was starting to emanate from the streaming water. His ass looked absolutely delectable from this angle, and Cas was tempted to just take him right then and there, but something told him Dean would want them both a little cleaner first, so he refrained.
Dean finally noticed Cas’s presence when the door clicked shut, he turned around and immediately eyed Cas from top to bottom, then licked his lips.
Cas chuckled in amusement, “See something you like?”
“Yes, Sir,” Dean answered honestly, “I—I just don’t ever get used to it…”
A little taken back by this admittance, Cas blushed, “Well, the feeling is mutual.”
Still looking him up and down, Dean muttered out, “Sir?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” Cas padded softly over to him.
Dean cleared his throat and looked into his eyes, “Can I—may I kiss you?”
For some reason, Cas’s heart was beating a million times per second, “Of course.”
When their lips finally touched, both of them melted into each other's arms. It was such a satisfying feeling—having Dean whimper softly into his mouth as they shared the same air. Neither of them could hold back the moans of satisfaction.
They’ve made out countless times since they started all of this, and still, somehow this kiss felt different from all the others. Maybe it was because they were doing it in Dean’s apartment and not Cas’s house, or maybe it’s because Dean wasn’t wearing an actual collar—whatever it was, Cas couldn’t quite place his finger on it.
Not that he cared or minded, in fact, it was almost better than their previous kisses—more intimate, emotional. He had no idea why, but standing in Dean’s small bathroom, covered in pasta sauce and sweat, Cas felt the closest to Dean he’s ever been.
As the kiss dragged on, neither of them made any movement to break away. Cas knew they had to get this show on the road though, so he started backing Dean up until his back hit the glass shower door. He finally tore his lips from Dean’s—
Okay, maybe he was feeling a little overwhelmed.
To draw them back into the scene, Cas raised a brow and commanded, “Get in the shower.”
Dean hastily climbed into the shower, sighing as the water made contact with his skin. Cas followed him inside and had a similar reaction.
He decided to let Dean stand under most of the water while he stood on the outside. Before they could get to the good stuff, they had a few things they needed to do first.
Using the washcloth he had grabbed from the sink counter, Cas pumped a few squirts of Dean’s body wash onto the rag and wet it under the water. The familiar scent of cedarwood and citrus filled his nostrils, he loved how it smelled like Dean—so undeniably masculine.
Dean watched curiously as Cas prepared the soapy cloth and gasped a little when he began rubbing it on Dean’s chest. He moved it in circles, sliding it sensually down his torso and across his abdomen, then back up to his shoulders and arms. After efficiently cleaning his upper body, Cas knelt down, scrubbing the cloth over his thighs, making sure to get any dirt—or food—off. He moved onto Dean’s feet, cleaning them with the washcloth. Dean groaned a little in protest—Cas knew he was ticklish, so he finished quickly. When he felt Dean was appropriately scrubbed down, he had him rinse off under the water.
“Here,” Cas held out another washcloth that he had set on the ledge of the shower, clean yourself anywhere else you need too, and I’ll start working on myself.
Dean stuck out a pouting lip, “I can’t clean you too, Sir?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes…”
“Alright then,” Cas smiled, handing him the clean washcloth, “You may go ahead.”
Gently, Dean took the rag and began following a similar process that Cas had done. When he knelt down to clean his lower half, however, he paid a bit more attention to Cas’s cock than Cas had to his. He gave little licks to the tip as he scrubbed near the base with the cloth—all while looking up through wet lashes.
“Dean…” Cas gritted out a warning.
“Sorry, Sir,” Dean apologized without a hint of remorse in his voice.
A little more scrubbing and both of them were finally clean. Cas took some time to do his own shampoo, and while he was mid-head massage, Dean insisted that he turn around.
“Why…?”
“Because I want to clean…down there…”
“Alright,” Cas laughed lightheartedly, “you know I wouldn’t judge you, right?”
“I know, I just want some privacy for this part…”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Cas reassured him—although personally, he had no qualms washing his ass in front of Dean. To each their own though.
Once they were completely finished with soaps and shampoos, Cas took the dirty rags, rang them of excess water, and draped them over the door of the shower. When he turned back to Dean he saw he was practically shaking with anticipation. To calm his nerves, Cas gave him another deep kiss. He moaned appreciatively into the kiss, grabbing onto Cas’s hips as Cas cupped his face.
It made Cas a little light-headed to think that if someone were to see them right now, both of them completely naked, and Dean without his collar—they would think they were a regular old couple.
By the time they both pulled away to breathe, both of their dicks were fully hard. Cas knew exactly what he wanted to do next, it’s been on his mind for a while actually, and with the sight he was met with when he first walked in the room—he was ravenous with it.
“Dean, have you ever been rimmed?”
Dean did a bit of a double take, leaning back to look at Cas in shock, “N-no…Sir…”
“Would you like to be?”
“I—” Dean bit his lip in hesitancy, “I…don’t know. I know it was on the list…but I never thought we’d actually do it… I dunno…”
“We don’t have to, Dean, but I do think it’s something you would enjoy.”
“But isn’t it kinda…gross?”
“It’s not any more ‘gross’ than sucking a dick, plus, this is the best place to do it if you’re concerned about hygiene.”
Dean considered his point, then began nodding, “O-okay…”
“Excellent,” Cas growled out hungrily, “Turn around please, and put your hands on the wall.”
Dean did as he was told, his breathing picking up—although it was barely audible over the spray of the shower. Cas wasted no time grabbing onto the luscious, wet globes of Dean’s ass, spreading them apart to get a look at his hole. It was already fluttering with excitement, and Cas couldn’t help it—he dove in. He licked a quick stripe over his entrance, and although there was no pressure behind it, Dean still moaned out in shock.
“Oh god…” Dean looked over his shoulder, and Cas shot him a predatory smirk. Deciding to forgo the foreplay, Cas lurched forward, spearing Dean on his tongue.
“F-fuck!” Dean exclaimed, his knuckles turning white as he balled them into fists on the wall.
Cas hummed his amusement, which no doubt sent vibrations into Dean’s hole, making him squirm.
He knew rimming wasn’t for everyone, but goddamn, Cas was a whore when it came to eating ass—especially if his sub was as responsive as Dean was.
And boy, was he responsive.
At first, Cas could tell he was just shocked from the new sensation, but as Cas continued to probe and slid his tongue in and out, applying pressure in all the right places and nibbling at the rim, Dean became increasingly more aroused. His high-pitched whines echoed in the walls of the shower as he pushed back into Cas’s face, seeking more pleasure. Whenever Cas glanced upwards, he could see the flush spreading across Dean’s cheek from where he’d pressed his face into the wall. His eyes were lidded, and his mouth opened on a moan.
The sight only spurred Cas on. He began inserting a finger alongside his tongue, pressing directly into Dean’s prostate. A wave of pleasure crashed through Dean when Cas found the special spot, and he trembled under Cas’s skilled tongue and fingers.
Castiel could tell this wasn’t going to last long for either of them. With a hand already wrapped around his dripping cock, he leaned back so he could tell Dean to wrap one around his own, “Touch yourself, Dean. You have permission to come whenever.”
“T-thank you, Sir!” Dean cried, his hand speedily encircling his own weeping dick, pumping fast. Cas tried to match the pace, inserting a second finger and pumping as hard as he could with both the digits and his tongue.
The sound of Dean’s building orgasm—the drawn out moans and pleas for more, please more!—harder—made Cas electric. He panted and moaned into Dean’s ass, slobbering up the drool that was now dripping down his chin along with the water from the shower, and groaning as his balls drew up closer to his body. With a few more pumps of his fist, Cas spilled his seed onto the shower floor.
Right after his release, Dean started practically humping Cas’s face, using his free hand to grab Cas’s hair in an attempt to bring him closer.
“Please! Pl—” One last groan and Dean was coming all over the shower wall, his hole clenching and unclenching around Cas’s tongue.
On shaky knees, Cas stood up, gripping onto the flesh of Dean’s hips. He turned Dean around, curious to see if Dean would kiss him after what he had just done—hey, Cas was a kinky son of a bitch, what could he say?—but he didn’t want to pressure him, so he simply touched foreheads with Dean, watching as his sub came down from his high.
“I uh—” Dean continued to pant, “I think…I’d like…to do that…again…”
Cas smiled eagerly, “Yeah?”
“Definitely,” Dean confirmed.
“That sounds wonderful to me. Maybe the next time we can do it with you on your hands and knees on a bed—might be more comfortable.”
“I dunno if I’m ready to do it outside of the shower…but we’ll see, Sir.”
Cas hummed softly while staring at Dean with an unmistakable adoration. Probably a little too much adoration, however, because Dean quickly became uneasy under the intensity of the gaze, prompting him to quickly avert his eyes.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m pruny as hell,” Dean held up his hands, “We should probably get out now…Sir.”
Cas didn’t respond, but he did nod his agreement, turning around to turn off the water.
— (Dean’s POV)
The wetness of their hair dampened Dean’s pillows, making his skin cold as pressed his face into it. Cas was currently spooning him and nuzzling softly at the nape of his neck—Dean loved when they did aftercare in this position.
He probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, but since starting this dynamic with Cas, Dean’s found that his favorite part so far was how safe he felt with him. In moments like this, where Cas cradled him securely against his chest, Dean felt so well taken care of, so protected, that it made him feel all fuzzy inside.
Perhaps it was his inner child, longing for the experience of being held and cherished—something he never had during the early years of his life because he was always doing it for someone else.
It was his job, his responsibility—someone had to make sure Sammy didn’t grow up feeling neglected. If he had a nightmare, Dean was right there to comfort him and hush him back to sleep. Sam probably doesn’t remember, but sometimes he’d even hum some of his favorite songs, and rub his back to make him feel better.
He wasn’t resentful in the least that he had to do it, but there was a small part of him that wished he had gotten the same treatment. That just maybe, he wouldn’t have had to lull himself back to sleep when he woke up from a nightmare full of fire and smoke. Maybe, instead of John getting one look at him and breaking down, he would have told Dean it was okay.
But he can’t change the past. The least he can do is enjoy spending time with someone who can help heal it.
It was getting later in the evening—the sun beginning to fall below the horizon—and Dean was starting to get antsy. This little scene had been just what he needed before their very long trip tomorrow, however, both of them were definitely nearing sleep, and yet, neither had made a move to get up. They’ve slept together before while scening, but typically it meant they wanted to continue the scene until the morning. Cas had made it clear the scene couldn’t take that long, plus, they had a busy and early morning ahead of them tomorrow, it wouldn’t be good to drag this on through the whole night.
Maybe Cas could feel the way he had tensed up in worry, because he let go of Dean’s chest, and rolled over on his back.
Dean followed suit, rolling over on his back until their biceps were touching.
“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” Cas asked in a low and tired voice.
“Probably by 6:30 or 7 am.”
Cas groaned, “That early?”
“Well yeah, it’s a 24 hour drive, so if we wanna shave off 12 to 14 hours tomorrow then we gotta leave as soon as possible.”
Dean could have sworn he had told Cas how long the drive was, but he must have dreamed it because his friend was currently staring at him like he had just grown two heads.
“Dean,” Cas closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “You’re telling me we’ll be in the car for two days?”
“Um, yeah…why else do you think we were leaving two days before the graduation?”
“I–I forgot it was Saturday…”
“I literally told you like seven times.”
“Okay well, days of the week kind of blend together for me, but still—you could have mentioned I was going to be in a car with you father for two days.”
“I mean…you could have just googled it. Kansas and California ain’t exactly neighboring states.”
“Why on Earth are we not flying there?”
Dean bristled at that comment, Cas should know why they aren’t flying there. I mean, he knew his fear of flying was irrational and pathetic, but he didn’t need to be reminded of it. And besides, if Cas didn’t want to ride with him and his Dad he could have just said that up front.
Maybe Dean should have been more open about the distance…
It’s just…he was scared of this.
Scared of Cas saying no.
Dean sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, his back turned to Cas.
“You don’t have to go. There’s probably still time to get a flight—wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”
Cas opened his mouth to speak, but Dean interrupted, “Oh, and collar off by the way—if it wasn’t obvious.”
With that, Dean got up and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.
It didn’t take long until there was a soft knock at the bathroom door.
“Dean?”
Dean was sitting on the closed toilet seat, picking at the skin of his knee. He didn’t respond, mostly because his voice probably would have broken if he tried.
“I’m sorry for what I said. I know you hate flying…and I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”
Dean appreciated the apology.
“I want to go with you, and if that means riding with your father as well, then I can handle it.”
“Really?” Dean replied loud enough that Cas could hear him through the door.
“Yes, Dean. Will you open the door please?”
Timidly—and embarrassed because of his little tantrum—Dean got up and slowly creaked the door open. When Cas made eye contact with him, he smiled, “Am I forgiven?”
Dean looked away, pretending to be grumpy, “Yeah…I guess.”
The door was knocked all the way open when Cas slammed into Dean, pushing him half-way back into the room. Dean was shocked at first, thinking Cas was trying to initiate something sexual—his shock quickly turned into outrage when he felt Cas’s hands clutch his sides, tickling him.
Unable to control his reaction, Dean started laughing. Inside he was screaming in anger.
“Get the—fuck—off me!”
“Do you forgive me?” Cas was fucking smirking, the bastard.
“I al—already said yes!”
“Say the words.”
“F—fine!” Dean was laughing so hard his stomach was hurting, “I forgive you!”
Finally, Cas relented, letting go and subsequently letting Dean catch a much needed breath.
After he could finally string more than two words together, Dean looked forward, shaking his head, “A child. I’m best friends with a literal child.”
Cas chucked, seeming proud of himself.
Once Dean had regained his composure, he looked at Cas, “You uh—you need any extra clothes since you didn’t realize we were gonna be gone for six days instead of four?”
Cas pondered for a moment, “I actually might.”
“And what about work? Did you take enough time off?”
“Oh yeah, work is fine. I took my vacation time, so I have the next seven days off.”
Dean nodded, “Great. Okay, well feel free to search through my drawers for some clothes.” Cas opened his mouth to thank him when he added, “—And don’t worry, I don’t have any sex toys in mine.”
A smirk spread across Cas’s face.
—
By the time Cas had finished rummaging through Dean’s stuff, it was already 9:30 pm. They should definitely be getting to bed soon if they don’t want to be running solely off coffee tomorrow morning. Dean was still hellbent on letting Cas sleep in his bed though, and he wasn’t gonna take no for an answer. Stubbornly, he made himself comfortable on the couch while Cas packed the last clothing items in his duffle bag.
“Dean,” Cas said in a low voice while still turned away from him, “I am not taking your bed from you, so I would appreciate it if you would get out of mine.”
“Sounds like a you problem,” Dean replied mid-yawn.
An exasperated sigh came from the end of the couch, “Alright then, I guess we can just share.”
Dean’s eyes shot open from where he had been resting them—the only thing he saw was a flash of a black t-shirt and then he felt a crushing weight come down on his chest and stomach.
Cas had actually just belly flopped on top of him.
“The fuck are you doing?” Dean groaned out.
Cas mumbled into Dean’s chest, “Going to sleep. If you don’t like the current arrangements, then go to your own bed.”
A few seconds of silence passed, Dean’s stomach was full of butterflies. “You know damn well I would stay here all night out of spite,” he challenged.
“Same here,” Cas countered.
It was funny, Dean has had sex multiple times with this man. He’s cuddled him, slept next to him, and yet—he has never felt so nervous to be around him, to be touching him. The way Cas just melted into his chest was addicting. Fear kept Dean’s arms stiffly by his sides, but he so badly wanted to just wrap them around him.
This was just too much though, even for them. Dean wasn’t wearing a collar and the way they were almost-cuddling was too intimate to just be platonic.
Spite be damned, Dean was gonna have to give up soon.
Right before Dean was about to get up, Cas spoke up softly, “You know, there is one solution that could fix all of this.”
“And what would that be?” Dean mused.
“We could just share your bed.”
To say that Dean was surprised would be an understatement. I mean, hell yeah he would be on board with that, but the fact that Cas was…it threw Dean for a loop. It was crossing so many boundaries, and knowing them, once they got going, it was hard to stop.
“I uh…” he didn’t know how to respond. Maybe Cas was joking?
The room fell quiet, and Dean cringed internally, unable to open his mouth to say anything.
“Jesus, it was a joke, Dean—no need to freak out,” Cas laughed—it didn’t sound like his normal laugh though.
“O-oh…” Dean chuckled nervously.
Cas rolled off of Dean, landing on the ground with a huff.
“Thinkin’ bout givin’ up?” Dean teased.
“No.” Cas said with fierce determination, “I was just thinking how comfortable your living room floor looks—”
“Alright, fine!” Dean stood up quickly, shaking his head, “If you're gonna be like that, just take the damn couch.”
Proud of his success, Cas bounced up onto his feet, “I will, thank you.”
Dean scoffed, making his way to his bedroom.
“Dean.”
He stopped, turning to face Cas, “Yeah?”
“Thank you. For dinner, for the clothes, and for offering your bed. You’re very kind.” Cas’s smile was so genuine it made Dean’s heart skip.
“Y-yeah don’t mention it.” Cas just continued to smile at him. “Now I better see you up and at 'em by 5:30 and no later.”
“Of course, Dean. Goodnight.”
“Night buddy.”
—
The morning was a rush as expected. Both of them woke up at 6 instead of 5:30 like Dean wanted, but they needed their sleep if they were gonna make this trek, so it was all for the best.
Because of their tardiness, however, they didn’t get on the road until 7:15. The sun was already shining relatively brightly, reflecting off Baby’s sleek back exterior. Their bags were shoved in the trunk, with just enough room for whatever his Dad was bringing.
Both of them had to-go cups of coffee steaming in their hand, and Dean sipped on his absent-mindedly as he pulled out on the highway.
“So, um…” Dean hands gripped the wheel, he has not been looking forward to this conversation, “There’s something I wanna talk to you about…”
Cas finished sipping on his own coffee and turned to look at Dean, “Yes?”
“Um…it’s just—I know you’ve only met Dad like once, right?”
“Yes, around Christmas last year, but it was pretty brief.”
“Right…which means you haven’t really interacted with him…”
There was a slight pause before Cas responded, “Dean, if you’re trying to warn me—your stories about him tell me all I need to know.”
Dean sighed, “Yeah, I know that you heard me say some things, but trust me, it’s always different when you talk to him in person…I just want you to be prepared because my Dad—he says a lot of bigoted shit, okay? And in order to keep the peace—”
“No.” Cas’s interruption was firm and caught Dean by surprise, “If you think I'm going to let him walk all over you or me because of identity or otherwise, then you thought wrong.”
Inwardly, Dean rolled his eyes. He knew Cas was gonna be like this, “Cas…I know it sucks…but you just can’t—you can’t—”
“Can’t what, Dean?”
“You can’t poke the bear! I don’t know, it’s just—it’s inevitable, and trust me, fighting him on it…it’s not worth it.”
Cas let out a deep breath, “For your sake—and Sam’s—I will do my best to not react…strongly…”
“Thank you,” Dean shot him a grateful look, “That means a lot…and I’m sorry—in advance—for the shit you’re gonna deal with.”
“I’m not worried about what I’ll have to deal with.”
When Dean realized Cas was talking about him, he scoffed, “Nothin’ I haven’t put up with for 26 years of my life.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Cas insisted.
“Yeah, I know.”
The rest of the drive to John’s house was quiet save for the slight hum of baby’s engine and the low volume of the rock station Dean had turned on.
They had to drive damn near 12 hours today—well, Dean had to drive 12 hours. His Dad didn’t have his license anymore and there was no way he was letting Cas drive his precious Baby. It’s not that he didn’t trust him, it’s just that Dean didn’t trust anyone with her.
Plus, he’s used to driving long distances, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.
The problem lied more with his passengers. Going on a roadtrip like this with Cas would be so much fun if it weren’t for his Dad coming too. And he knows Cas, he knows them both, it wasn’t gonna take much more than a few sleepless, uncomfortable hours on the road to get them both grumpy and irritable, itching for an argument. It was inevitable that he’d probably have to break up a fight at some point.
It was gonna be like Sammy’s back all over again—Dean will have to be the middleman, the peacemaker.
At least he’s good at it.
—
His Dad’s house was as run-down and weed-ridden as ever. Dean had tried to keep up with cutting the grass and keeping the house as clean as possible, but work has just been so draining lately that he’s barely had time to bring John groceries, much less do house chores.
The place looked pretty lifeless, which worried Dean.
As he put Baby into park, he mumbled out, “I swear to god if he forgot and slept in…”
Dean let out a frustrated sigh, knowing already that that was probably the case.
“Would you like me to go with you?”
“Nah that’s okay,” Dean’s eyes wandered to the backseat, “But um…if you don’t mind—my Dad’ll probably want the front seat…”
Cas looked behind him and then back at Dean. He opened his mouth like he wanted to complain or protest, but thankfully he decided to be gracious. With a small nod, Cas opened the passenger door and got out.
Dean followed, stretching his arms as he prepared to go get his Dad.
He usually didn’t knock, but today he did for some reason. Maybe he was still hoping there would be an answer and his Dad wasn’t still asleep in his room.
Of course his reality was the latter.
With a huff of frustration, Dean barged through the door, making his presence known as he stomped all the way to John’s bedroom. Sure enough, the old man was lying on his back on his bed, completely dead to the world.
There was a slight smell of cigarette smoke—which wasn’t great—but at least Dean couldn’t smell any alcohol. He tramped over to the side of the bed and shook it violently, “Dad, wake up.”
John inhaled sharply as his senses adjusted to the light and the noise. He groaned, “What time is it?”
“Time to be on the fucking road, now where is the bag you packed?”
“Over there,” John pointed to the other side of the room with one hand while using the other to rub his eyes.
Well, at least they don’t have to pack at the last minute.
“Hurry up and take a shower, I got some snacks in the car you can have for breakfast. We’ll stop somewhere for coffee.”
John sat up, looking at Dean with a particularly hard stare, “I don’t appreciate the attitude.”
“Yeah, and I don’t appreciate being late, now come on—please.” Attaching the ‘please’ at the end placated his father enough that he simply rolled his eyes and began making his way to the bathroom.
Progress is progress.
Thirty minutes later, Dean and Cas were leaning on Baby’s roof talking to each other, when the door to the small house creaked open and John staggered out. He walked with a limp because of his knee, and because he didn’t get virtually any exercise, but he still had enough strength to walk with his chest out and his arms swinging carelessly beside him.
Dean remembers when he used to idolize that walk, wanting to look and be just like him.
A part of him winced at the thought that maybe he succeeded.
As John got closer, Cas walked up to him, meeting him halfway up the sidewalk to his door. Surprisingly, his friend actually stuck a hand up in greeting—it warmed Dean’s heart a bit, knowing that Cas really was trying.
John didn’t even pay the outstretched hand a glance, he just looked over Cas’s shoulder, a confused and annoyed expression on his face, “Who the hell is this?”
Dean opened his mouth to answer when Cas did it for him, “My name is Castiel.” His voice was neutral.
“Dad—“ Dean came over to stand beside Cas, “You know Cas.”
John eyed his friend up and down, “The name sounds familiar but I don’t recognize your face.”
“We only met briefly last year,” Cas explained.
Cas’s hand was still outstretched, which made Dean smirk. Maybe Dean was his father’s son, but nobody would ever be as stubborn as his best friend.
“Pleasure,” John said gruffly, like he was being forced at gunpoint. He did take Cas’s hand though, shaking it harshly.
“Likewise.”
“Alright, if we’re done with the greetings, we gotta get on the road.” Dean jerked a thumb towards the car.
John pushed past them both as he walked towards the passenger door, “Fine by me.”
Cas gave Dean a pointed look as he made his way to the backseat, Dean tried to reciprocate with an expression of gratefulness, Cas really was gonna be Dean’s salvation this trip.
— (Cas’s POV)
“You talk to Sammy recently?” John broke the silence that had fallen over the car for the first 5 minutes of being on the road.
“Yesterday,” Dean replied. His eyebrow raised as he looked sideways at John, “You?”
“He won’t answer my calls,” John huffed and shook his head, “thought we were past all this pansy shit.”
“Well, he is pretty busy, Dad. It took a while for me to get a hold of him too.”
John hummed passingly, looking out the window.
The tension in the car wasn’t…horrible, but it was enough that the awkward silence penetrated any semblance of comfortability.
Dean and Cas made eye contact through the rear view mirror a couple times, but it was a while before anyone spoke again.
“You work with Dean?” John didn’t make any effort to look back, but the question was obviously directed towards him.
“In a manner of speaking. I’m an ER doctor, so I do see him occasionally when he brings me patients via emergency transportation.”
“How long’ve you lived here?”
A little jarred from the quick change of subject, Cas stuttered his reply, “N-not long. A little over a year.”
“Where ya from then?”
“New York.”
“City?”
“Yes.”
“Huh,” there was a smirk on John’s face, “This is a big change then?”
“You could say that…” Dean’s eyes quickly shot to his in the mirror, there was something in his face that Cas couldn’t quite place.
“Are you gonna stay?”
“I—“ Cas could immediately sense Dean tensing. “I don’t have any plans to leave, no.”
Dean breathed out a sigh of relief, not loud enough for John to notice, but Cas did.
There was a few seconds of silence, then John asked, “Got a girlfriend?”
Cas licked his lips, here we go.
“No. I’m gay,” he responded as matter-of-fact-ly as he could.
Instantly, John whipped his head to look at Dean.
Dean actually recoiled slightly, flinching under John’s stare.
There was at least a minute of painfully awkward silence, but Cas stood his ground. He wasn’t going to lie, or hide who he was just to make John feel more comfortable.
Finally, John grumbled, “Dean, you need gas.”
Dean looked down at his dash, “I still have half a tank?”
“Well you gotta stop anyway for that cup of coffee, so just go ahead and get off at the next exit.”
Dean frowned at his father’s authoritative tone, but he didn’t object, and within five minutes they were parked in front of a small gas station with no doubt the worst possible coffee to serve imaginable.
While the gas was pumping in the car, Dean leaned through the open window, handing his father a five dollar bill. John looked at him with a blank expression, “Can you get it? My knee, you know—”
Dean didn’t say anything, he just sighed and shoved the bill back in his pocket, walking around the front of the car and into the gas station. Cas had a feeling John had made him go inside not just because of his knee problems, and his suspicions were confirmed when John turned to face him in the back seat.
“So…what are y’all, huh? Boyfriends?” He said ‘boyfriends’ like the word had left a physically bad taste in his mouth.
Cas knew John had been itching to say something, but he hadn’t expected him to just straight up ask. He took a deep breath, calming himself, “No. We’re just best friends.”
“Right,” John’s voice was dripping in sarcasm as he nodded his head, “So you don’t fuck or anything?”
The utter audacity to say something like that so casually had rage simmering in Cas’s blood. And sure, maybe it was true. But the fact that Cas was bending over and ravishing John’s son at least twice a week wasn’t really information he needed to hear in detail.
He tried to think about what Dean would want him to say…
Who was he kidding—if Dean was here, Cas knew exactly what he would say. He would quickly and fiercely shut down any assumptions that he and Cas were together.
Cas on the other hand, he wanted to mess with him a little bit, “That’s really none of your business.”
Apparently that was not the answer John was looking for. He did a quick double take at Cas, gaping at him, “You better be joking, boy.”
“And if I wasn’t?”
Cas knew he was poking the bear…he just couldn’t help it.
John pointed an accusatory finger at Cas, “If you’re the fucking reason my son turned out to be a fucking cocks—”
Cas leaned forward abruptly, hands gripping onto the back of the front seat, John actually lurched back, “Do not ever call him that.” John looked at him with wide eyes, “He was already out for three years before we met, but regardless, he is his own person. He didn’t choose to be the way he is.”
“Damn right, my son wouldn’t ever choose this disgusting lifestyle willingly.” Cas sat back, shaking his head—Dean had been right, you just can’t win with this man. “I didn’t raise him to be like this—but at least he has enough sense to still be attracted to girls.” Cas wasn’t even going to attempt to grace that comment with a response. “And even if you didn’t start all this, you’re making it worse. SoI’ll be damned if I let him be manipulated by you.” John spat, his tone was vile.
“Manipulated? The only one emotionally manipulating him is you.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know enough—“
“Whatever that boy tells you, he’s over exaggerating, like he does everything.”
“I don’t need him to tell me anything, I can see the scars you’ve left on him—on both your sons—without them saying a word.”
Lip quivering, John gritted out, “You think you know everything?!”
“Not everything, just enough to know that they both deserve better than what you’ve given them.”
John’s face was turning red, he looked like he was on the brink of passing out with anger. After Cas had finished speaking his words, the bell from the gas station door dinged, and Dean came out with a small bag and a cup of coffee in his hands.
John was still seething with anger, but he kept his mouth tightly shut, his hand stroking the sparse facial hair on his chin.
Cas couldn’t help but feel proud of himself, and satisfied that he had gotten in the last word.
Dean finished putting the pump back in its place, then climbed back in the driver’s seat.
“Here,” Dean said blankly, handing John his coffee. John took it without looking, and not even so much as a ‘thank you.’
Then, Dean turned to Cas, holding out a small box wrapped in a plastic red bag. Cas hesitantly took it from him, confused.
“What’s this?”
“Just look.”
Cas took the box out of the bag, it was a pack of Nature Valley biscuits with almond butter in the middle.
“I know you like almond butter…so I thought you might wanna try it,” Dean shrugged.
The gift was ironic timing, and Cas smirked when he saw John bristle beside Dean.
“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate it.” He smiled warmly at his friend.
A cute blush spread across Dean’s cheeks, “Don’t mention it.”
—
Cas couldn’t believe it’s only been six hours—it felt like it’s been two days. They’ve only stopped twice since the first stop at the gas station, and the other two stops were at another gas station and then at a diner for some lunch. Both times, John made it his mission to be as rude and condescending as he could to Cas, which Cas had expected—it’s not like he could say all that to him and not face the consequences of his childish behavior in response. Dean didn’t understand it though, and Cas even saw him pull his father to the side and tell him to knock it off a couple times—he couldn’t make out John’s response.
Now they were halfway, and finally, Cas was in the front. After some convincing from Dean, John finally decided to lay in the back so he could stretch out and take a nap. This was relieving, because now, not only did Cas not have to deal with John’s sneering comments, but he was able to have some time to talk one-on-one with Dean.
“Did you do this often growing up?”
Pulled from whatever daydream Dean was lost in, he looked at Cas, “Did what?”
“This. Traveling, driving places.”
Dean nodded, “Oh yeah, for sure. My Dad,” he glanced back at his sleeping father, “he uh—he couldn’t sit still after we lost my mom. It’s a miracle we even ended back up here honestly—”
“Here being Kansas?”
“Yeah. He um…he couldn’t stand living anywhere near where it happened, so he packed me and Sammy up and took us across the country. He still couldn’t settle in one place though, so he just took up odd jobs, temporary ones, so that he could move on within a few weeks to a month. Sometimes….” A solemn shadow passed over Dean’s features, “He uh…he would be gone, for weeks. He’d leave us some money—never enough—and just tell us to stay out of trouble while he was gone.”
Cas exhaled sharply, scowling at the heap of a man in the backseat, “I’m sorry, Dean.”
“Not your fault. My Dad was in a bad place…and I guess—I guess he did the best he could.”
Castiel knew he had to tread carefully. There was a split in Dean, a part of him that still adored his father at times and looked up to him, and a logical part that knew his father was a cruel, disappointing force. Some days Cas would criticize John and Dean would agree, and other days he would give Cas a look of disapproval and do his best to change the subject.
But with the way John had talked about his son earlier…Cas couldn’t stand seeing Dean apologize for him.
“That’s still not an excuse.”
“Yeah, probably…” Dean took his eyes off the road again to look at Cas, “What about you, what was your dad like?”
It took Cas no time to answer, “More absent than anything, I don’t really feel like I ever knew him. My mother was—controlling—but my father didn’t really care that he had children—or if he did, he didn’t show it.”
“Did you not like your mother?”
“Like her? No, I guess not, but like with all children and their parents, there was a part of me that loved her. Still—it wasn’t enough to keep me there.”
“Keep you there?”
“She wanted me to stay in New York and be a lawyer for one of the family’s companies. When I told her no, she did everything to get me to stay. Thankfully I was smart enough to invest some money I had been given throughout my life, and was able to move and put myself through college.”
When Cas looked over, there was a fond smile on Dean’s face.
“What’s that look for?” Cas asked.
“Nothin’...you just—you remind me of Sammy is all. He’s real headstrong, doesn’t give two shits about what people tell him he should or shouldn’t do.”
Cas matched Dean’s smile, “Your brother is a respectable man.”
“Yeah…I envy that about you guys.”
Frowning, Cas reached out and placed his hand near Dean’s that was resting on the seat, “What do you mean?”
“You know—just, I’m not really good at…at standing up to my Dad.” His voice was hushed and he did another glance back to make sure John was still sleeping.
“I’ve seen you stand up to him several times on this trip alone, what are you talking about?”
“I don’t know…I probably should’ve given up on him a long time ago…should’ve listened to Sam…”
“Hey,” This time, Cas grabbed Dean’s hand fully, “Even though your father may not deserve what you give him, it doesn’t make you any less honorable for giving it to him. It takes someone with intense empathy and compassion to do what you do—not just taking care of your father, but your job as well. If anything, you’re a better man than Sam or I could ever be.”
Dean scoffed, “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious.”
When their eyes locked, Cas could see a pink blush appear on Dean’s cheeks and the tip of his nose.
Neither of them said anything more, deciding to let the noise of the radio and the sound of the road fill their ears, drowning out any thoughts, content to just be in each other’s presence.
— (Dean’s POV)
Dean’s ass has not hurt this bad in a while. He always enjoyed driving on the open road, but jesus christ that was a long 12 hours.
It was 8:30 pm now, and they were stopped at a small but decent-looking motel. Dean was feeling excited about tonight. He hadn’t talked with Cas about it, but he figured that the best sleeping arrangements were for him and Cas to share a room and John to get his own. He didn’t expect anything to happen, but he was looking forward to being alone with Cas, even if they had to sleep in different beds.
All three men groaned as they stretched out the soreness from their muscles.
“I’ll go get our room keys, be right back.” Dean walked away from the group, heading towards the receptionists desk. There was an elderly woman sitting there, she looked tired.
“Good Evening, Ma’am,” he put on his best flirtatious smirk.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’ll uh—I’ll take two rooms, one queen and two doubles, please.”
After a few seconds of typing on her keyboard, she looked up and smiled, “That’ll be $89.39.”
“Alrighty,” he replied while handing her a wad of cash.
She gave back his change, and then two motel keys, “Just let me know if you need anything else, sweetie.”
“Awesome, thanks.” He winked at her, and she tsked, waving her hand in dismissal.
By the time he walked back up to the impala, he could immediately feel the intense shift in energy. John was standing with his fists balled up at his sides, and his jaw firmly clenched—a familiar sight for Dean. Cas wasn’t much less defensive, with his arms crossed over his chest, sporting that look of defiance Dean saw in him ever so often.
He thought about asking what was wrong, when he realized that he probably didn’t want to know. Instead, he threw his Dad a key and raised his eyebrows in surprise when the old man caught it with one hand.
“Get your stuff, we should get to bed early so we can be on the road by 6:30.”
“What about dinner?” Cas asked with a gravelly voice.
Dean picked up his duffel from the open trunk and grinned at Cas from ear to ear, “That’s why we brought snacks.”
Cas sighed, picking up his own bag, “Beef jerky and skinny pop are hardly proper meal replacements, Dean.”
He shrugged, “Eh, I had a big lunch—not really hungry anyway.”
Cas gave him the look but he didn’t push further.
“Dean?” The sound of his Dad’s voice came from a few feet away. He was already standing in the open doorway of his room.
“Yeah?”
“There’s only one bed? Did you give me the wrong key, because I know we ain’t sharin’ one bed.”
“No uh—” heat crept up the back of Dean’s neck, he still hadn’t confirmed with Cas about the sleeping arrangements so he hoped he was okay with them staying together, “I was gonna bunk with Cas, so I gave you the—”
The sound of the motel door slamming shut made Dean come to a full stop. His father walked back towards the impala, trying to keep up with his limp. The look on his face was one Dean used to dread seeing as a kid—it was the look that said he was done. Whether it be because of Sam or Dean or something else, he always adopted a particularly furious expression when he was completely fed up.
It took an embarrassing amount of restraint for Dean to not take a step back when his Father got right up in his space. “Give me the other key,” his voice was virulent.
“W-why?”
“Goddamnit, Dean, just give me the other fucking key!”
With one side glance at Cas, Dean dug into his front pocket and pulled out the other key. No matter how much he hated himself for it, he couldn’t help but obey as he handed it to his father. Snatching it from his hand, his Dad promptly threw the single room key at Cas, who clumsily caught it.
“Come on,” John grumbled.
Dean stood still for a few moments, watching absently as his father unlocked the adjacent room and went inside. He jolted forward when he felt a large, warm hand on his shoulder.
“Dean,” Cas’s voice was deep, comforting. “You don’t have to. I’ll go tell him to move—or sleep in the room with him.”
Dean actually chuckled at that image, “If you did that, you’d both be dead by morning.”
Cas didn’t laugh, but when he opened his mouth to object, Dean quickly added, “It’s fine Cas. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he made his way to his room.
—
When Dean was a teenager, he used to sneak out. ‘Sneak’ being a strong word, because really, most times he could walk out of their hotel room as free as a bird, not having to worry about his Dad hearing him because he was always miles away at a job sight.
Some nights though…some nights he would return home, and the impala would be parked right in front of their door. He’d get a cold chill up his spine because he knew his Dad was home, he knew he was awake, and he knew—chances were—that he was so fucking drunk.
Despite leaving his children for weeks on end with little money for grocery and motel rooms, he’d still pretend that he’d care about their safety. Well, not their safety exactly, but Sam’s safety. Even though Sam was 12 years old, and hardly a child anymore, Dean was still instructed by their father to never leave him alone, especially overnight.
It was scarce that he got caught doing exactly that, but when it did happen…
Let’s just say, his father rarely laid hands on him—those instances were one of the exceptions.
But that feeling Dean had whenever he’d cautiously walk up to the door, praying to whatever deity that was listening to ‘please let his father be asleep’—which would inevitably never be the case—it was the same feeling he had now as he stepped through the threshold of the small doorway and closed the door behind him.
Something deep in his fucking bones was telling him that he was about to get chewed out. He wasn’t really sure what for since he hadn’t had any issues with Dad today, except for a few times he called him out on his behavior towards Cas…
Maybe that’s what this was all about.
“What?” John snapped from the other side of the room.
Dean shifted, realizing that he’d been frozen like a deer in the headlights, waiting to be yelled at, “Nothing…”
John huffed, throwing his duffel on the ground beside his bed, “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He asked genuinely.
“That look,” John waved his hand around, gesturing to Dean’s face, “Acting like a kid who didn’t get his fucking way.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.”
Dean should probably let it go, but screw it, he’s already pissed his Dad off, what more can he do.
“Okay, fine…maybe I am.”
The chills came back full force when John’s face contorted into full on malice, “If you think for one goddamn second, that I’m gonna let you two boys share a room just so you can fuck him,” he jerked a finger in the direction of Cas’s room, “then you got another thing comin’ boy!”
The small part of Dean that had no self-preservation skills whatsoever wanted to correct John’s mistake about who would be fucking who, but thankfully, he was able to restrain himself.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t try to lie to me. I see the way you look at him, the way you talk to him, not to mention what that fucker said to me today…” The last part was whispered under his breath, but it was still loud enough for Dean to hear.
When he fully processed John’s words, his blood went red hot with rage, “I don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me or Cas, but you do not get to talk about him like that.”
John breathed out a bitter laugh, “I’ll talk about him however I damn well please. You should have heard the shit he said to me today!”
What did Cas say? He didn’t mention anything to Dean…
“Look, Sam invited him to his graduation, and I invited him on this trip. He is our fucking guest, so you need to—”
“I don’t need to do shit. You brought that faggot with us, so don’t blame me if he causes fucking problems.” John crossed his arms.
The breath was stolen from Dean’s chest. He’s heard his father say slurs before, but never the long version, and especially not about someone he cared about. John could insult him all he wanted, but Cas…
“You—” Everything in Dean’s being was telling him to slam John to the ground. Unfortunately, he only got as far as clutching the front of his shirt and pushing him up against the nearest wall. “If I ever hear you say that word again I will fucking—”
“What!? You’ll do what?” He hissed venomously.
Dean was panting heavily, his anger and tiredness from the last 12 hours combining to make him incredibly done. Unable to even get the words out, Dean cursed, letting go of his father, and turning to leave the room with a slam.
—
The sun had just set, so the lights of the motel were on, buzzing loudly in the quiet evening. He swatted a bug away from his face, his feet swinging from where he sat on Baby’s trunk. He was half tempted to just sleep out here—it wouldn’t be all that bad, it was warm, and the stars were pretty visible, he could do it.
Except, he deserved an actual fucking bed—he was the one that drove 12 hours for god’s sake. He just wished he’d been more firm and insisted that his Dad take the single. If he had though, there definitely would’ve been a spectacle of some sort, and Dean was not trying to have that.
He couldn’t go back in the room with his Dad though, at least, not until he went to sleep. And he was just making himself more sore sitting outside on the hard surface of his car.
Maybe Cas wouldn’t mind if he cooled off in his room for a bit…
Before he could psych himself out, he jogged up to his door and gave three knocks in quick succession. It didn’t take long for the door to open.
“Dean?”
“Hey uh, can I come in?”
“Of course,” Cas moved out of the way, gesturing for him to enter.
Dean walked in slowly, deciding to sit on the edge of his bed. Carefully, Cas sat down beside him, looking at him in a way that said he wanted to take Dean in his arms and cradle him forever.
Dean would probably let him.
“Are you okay?”
What a question, “Uh—no. Not really.”
“Is it your father?”
Dean let out a sharp exhale of amusement, “Who else, man.”
Cas nodded his head slowly, “Did he say something?”
Running a hand through his hair, Dean flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, “What didn’t he say…”
Still sitting up, Cas looked down at Dean pitifully, “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”
“Maybe this was a mistake,” he sighed.
Cas raised a brow, considering the statement, “Well, It’s not going to be easy, but I’m sure your brother greatly appreciates what you’re doing for him.”
“Yeah, right. If he had his way he’d never see Dad again. Hell, he’s probably pissed I’m bringing him at all.”
“Well, like you said, you didn’t really have a choice,” Cas pointed out, “So, if bringing your father was the only way to get you and me there as well, then I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”
Dean’s laced hands settled on his chest, “I guess we’ll see.”
The room fell quiet, the only audible sound being the old ac unit stirring the air inside the room. Eventually, Cas decided to lay down next to Dean, which, in turn, made Dean’s heart skip to a million beats per second. It wasn’t even in a sexual way, just lying next to Cas with the skin of their arms touching, it was exciting enough on its own. He was also close enough that Dean could smell the faint scent of his cologne—vanilla and amber. Dean loved that smell.
“Would you like to talk about any of it?”
Dean chewed his bottom lip—no, not really. At the same time though, having someone to share his feelings with would help him process them better, right?
“Uh–he just…um…he just keeps…insinuating…that we’re together or some shit. That’s why he didn’t want us sharing a room—not that it’s any of his fucking business anyway, but if he can sabatoge me being with a man in any way he will.”
Huffing in annoyance, Cas rolled his eyes.
“He usually isn't this bad, but I guess seeing—you know…us…it just brought out the hate that’s always been there.”
His friend made an affirming noise.
It was probably close to 10 pm now, and if Dean wanted to get fully rested before they headed out in the morning, he needed to go to sleep.
Knowing his father, he was already knocked out most likely, so he should start heading back to his own room.
He groaned as he began sitting up.
“Dean—” Cas grabbed his arm, bringing him back down, “Where are you going?”
“Uh, back to my room. My Dad’s probably asleep now, so I was just gonna slip back in quietly.”
Castiel’s expression was strange, there was a mix of…disappointment? But also, understanding. He didn’t say anything, just looked directly into Dean’s eyes. It was like magic, whenever they made eye contact like this. Dean was locked in, unable to pull himself away from the trance.
“You could always…” Cas’s voice was barely over a whisper, “...stay here.”
Dean gulped hard, throat constricting, suddenly as dry as a desert. “W-what?”
There was nothing that could have prepared him for the feeling that washed through his entire body as Cas leaned forward, hand cupping the side of Dean’s face furthest away from him. There was something shifting between them, a new energy that has been restricted, now allowed to flow freely. Cas glanced at Dean's lips, then back up at his eyes.
“Stay.”
— (Cas’s POV)
This was a bold move, even for Cas. Dean wasn’t wearing his collar, hadn’t said ‘collar on,’ and yet, here they were, inches apart, Castiel’s hand resting softly on Dean’s cheek. Maybe it was confidence built up through a day of being berated and hated for his identity and the slight possibility of him and Dean being something more than friends.
Whatever it was, it was coursing through his veins, driving him closer and closer to Dean, unafraid of rejection.
And as it turned out, rejection wasn’t something Cas even had to worry about, since Dean was nodding dumbly against his palm.
“Yeah?” Cas breathed out with a smile.
“Yeah.”
It took no time at all to take each of their respective showers and change into comfy clothes. When they were finally settled into bed, which was about the size of Cas’s bed at home, Dean finally became nervous.
He was fidgeting with his fingers and chewing on the inside of his cheek—an obvious sign of discomfort. He also hadn’t laid down yet fully, still perched on the edge, facing away from Cas.
“Dean?”
He swiftly turned his head around to look at Cas, “Unh huh?”
“Are you just going to sit there all night?” Cas mused, already under the thick comforter.
“Oh, no…” Dean laid down, still tense, “I’m just thinking…If my Dad wakes up and I’m not there…”
Cas laid a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder, causing him to look over, “Don’t worry about it, Dean. We can always make up an excuse.”
“Yeah I guess so…” Dean breathed deeply, centering himself, “And screw him anyway.”
Cas smiled, eyes drooping—he hadn’t realized how tired he was. The bed shifted as Dean rolled over on his side, coming face-to-face with Cas. He had a little more energy than Cas did apparently, because his eyes were wide and searching. Cas tried to keep his own eyes open as he soaked in the beautiful forest green that shone bright in the moonlit room.
“Cas?” Dean was whispering now.
His voice was pure gravel when he responded, “Yes?”
“Are we—”
Cas waited a few minutes, looking at Dean as he tried to piece together the rest of his question.
When nothing came, he spoke up softly, “Are we what?”
Dean swallowed, eyebrows pinched upwards instead of relaxed like they were a second ago, “Never mind,” his friend shook his head.
Cas would probably push if he wasn’t so exhausted, but he didn’t have the energy right now to pry an answer out of Dean. Instead, he resorted to scooting closer until the top of his head was almost touching Dean’s neck, and closing his eyes so he couldn’t see Dean’s reaction.
The only thing he felt was the soft, heated breaths coming from his lover, and the warm embrace of an arm being draped gently over his back.
Notes:
Okay, NOW we should be getting to Sam's graduation next chapter! There's gonna be a lot of fluff, angst, and...sexy times hehe.
In the chapter after the next one, we'll be getting to one of the last two major plot points that will carry us through to the end of the story! There's still a lot of story to tell though, so I hope you guys can hang in there!
As always, thank you for your wonderful comments! <3
Chapter 11
Summary:
- Switching POV's
- BDSM semi-public scene, smut
- TW's: attempted sexual assault, sexual harassment, homophobia, use of homophobic slurs, some internalized homophobia, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of underage prostitutions. (if I missed any, please let me know!)
Notes:
When I tell you this is the longest chapter I have ever written... I just had so many things I wanted to add, but I didn't want to break it up anymore, so I just tried to condense everything. Sorry for the people who don't like longer chapters, but I did my best to make it as short as possible while still keeping all the content!
I know I told some people this would be posted last week, and although it was finished last week, I just wanted a second opinion, and it took a while to get my (occasional) beta-reader to get a chance to take a look. Anyway, it's here now. Hope you enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Dean's POV)
Despite being a morning person himself, it was always difficult getting up when his arms were wrapped around Cas. Their shared bed was like a cloud compared to what Dean was used to sleeping on, and the warm, glowy sunrise that dripped perfectly through their bedroom window didn’t help matters much. It made them worse, in fact, when the light illuminated the dark strands of Cas’s hair that were currently tickling his nose, causing his lover to be wreathed in a halo of golden light.
The picture was complete when Cas finally opened his eyes and the ocean blue swam delicately under the light.
“Goodmorning.” His voice was laden with a distinct morning rasp.
“Mornin’”
Dean reached his neck forward, connecting them at the lips, making them complete.
Morning breath didn’t even matter to him, all other senses were lost anyway to the sight and feel of Cas against his mouth—exactly where he should always be.
One small, and delicate kiss turned into a handful of lazy, yet passionate kisses, and eventually their tongues began searching for entrance. Dean’s dick, which had already been aroused at the sight of Cas waking up in his arms, filled out completely, and Cas moaned into their kiss when he felt it press into his upper thigh.
“Dean…” he whispered, almost reverently.
The grip Dean had on Cas’s shoulders loosened as his hands trailed downwards, clutching his hips, and then eventually, his ass, gripping tightly and bringing them closer. The action made them grind into each other like a couple of horny teenagers, their lips now swollen and spit slick from kissing so much.
To give themselves time to breathe, Dean opted to mouth at the open and waiting skin of Cas’s neck. His lover breathed out on a moan, softly whimpering Dean’s name over and over like a prayer, which only drove Dean more insane with lust, causing him to bite and lick and push their lower halves closer together.
Their throbbing members were now right up against each other, and as the two men continued to move and put pressure on their dicks, Dean realized that they were both about to come in their boxers.
He can’t even remember the last time he did that…
Well, to be fair, he probably couldn’t remember much of anything right now.
They moved together like a wave, over and over and over, grasping at each other with hands and teeth, searching for purchase in their skin and hair and anywhere they could find.
“Cas—” was the last word Dean managed to squeak out before he was spilling all warm and gooey into his boxers, Cas following suit right above him. The feeling should be gross, but he couldn’t care about that right now.
The man he loved, the man he adored, was lying boneless on his chest, panting into Dean’s exposed skin—and Dean couldn’t imagine being happier than he was right in this moment.
After a few minutes of stroking Cas’s hair and kissing his forehead, the cooling of their cum finally began agitating him. He made a movement to get up to grab them a warm washcloth, but Cas immediately groaned.
“Sweetheart,” he laughed softly, “It’s getting sticky, ‘m gonna get somethin’ to clean us up.”
Cas shook his head fiercely, nuzzling further into Dean’s chest and bracketing his arms and legs on either side of Dean’s body, anchoring him.
“Cas…”
They went on for a minute or two, until eventually, their little game of tug-of-war became painful enough that Dean began jerking in an attempt to get away from Cas’s hold.
“Cas—stop—”
Dean awoke with a gasp. His muscles were tense, and his hands were gripping—almost painfully—at Cas’s shoulders.
Cas’s shoulders…?
Dean opened his eyes the rest of the way, his vision bleary from adjusting to the dark room.
Yep, those were definitely Cas’s shoulders. It wasn’t just a dream.
Except this time, instead of being in the safety and comfort of Cas’s bedroom, they were in a drafty motel room with a thin wall being the only thing standing between them and Dean’s sleeping father.
Or, he hoped he was sleeping.
Dean carefully removed his arm out from under Cas’s to check his watch. It was 5:30 am.
Checking his watch made Cas stir slightly above him, his chest heaving in sighs and snores as he fell back into a deep sleep. When he readjusted himself on Dean’s chest, it made Dean feel something he hadn’t before, something cold and wet…
He let out a soft gasp when he came to the horrific realization that he had just come in his sleep.
That wasn’t the first sex dream he’s had of Cas, but it was the first one that made him have an actual, full-on orgasm…
Dean stifled a groan.
The past 9 hours have been such a confusing swirl of emotions. One minute, Dean was anxious to even knock on Cas’s door for fear of annoying him, and the next, he was dressed in nothing but his boxers, holding Cas in his arms as he drifted off to sleep.
Cas inviting him to stay the night was such a shock that Dean hadn’t even fully processed it before he was agreeing. And if that wasn’t enough—Cas, of his own volition, snuggled next to him—and Dean, being helpless to deny him of anything, snuggled right back. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to handle it, it’s no surprise that he dreamt of Cas.
What was surprising was why Cas was even acting like this in the first place. Asking him to stay was enough to get Dean suspicious—which is what prompted him to try and ask Cas what they were, before he chickened out, of course—but then Cas snuggling with him threw him for a complete loop. Maybe Dean was delusional for thinking it, but that couldn’t just be interpreted as platonic affection, right?
Whatever it was, they needed to talk about it.
Just—not right now.
Right now Dean needed to focus on how to get out of this situation. Waking Cas up certainly wasn’t an option for obvious reasons, but Dean couldn’t just stay here while his cum continued getting tacky on his inner thighs.
Since it was close to when he was planning on getting up anyway, his best bet was to try and sneak out of the bed and back into his Dad’s room so that he could actually get to his duffle bag—all while trying to not wake Cas up. And considering how Cas was definitely not a morning person, this shouldn’t be that difficult of a feat.
As quietly as he could, Dean began sliding off the bed, pushing Cas gently away from him as he did. There were a few panicked moments where Cas groaned or inhaled sharply, making Dean think he was awake, but to Dean’s relief, he quickly went back to sleep.
After throwing back on his clothes from yesterday, Dean took one last look at Cas’s sleeping form before he slipped out. He was just as beautiful as his dream version, and Dean lamented not being able to stay to see him wake up—Although, if he did, he’d be risking his Dad finding out where he’d been all night and there’s too much trip left to endure with him, he couldn’t stir the pot anymore than it already was.
Thankfully, Dean could hear his Dad’s snores from outside his motel room door before he even opened it, so he didn’t have to worry about facing him dressed in yesterday’s outfit. There’s no way he could talk himself out of that one.
The time was now 5:45 am, which meant they needed to start waking up if they were to grab something from the motel breakfast bar before leaving. Dean dreaded having to wake up his Dad again, but it’s not like he set an alarm.
Before worrying about that, however, he took a quick shower and got dressed in some fresh clothes. He then got any bags he brought, packed back in the impala, and headed back inside to wake his father.
“Dad, we gotta go soon.” He said in a raised voice as he turned on the main lights and opened the curtains.
John groaned when the light made contact with his eyes, but he didn’t protest.
“I’m gonna go wake Cas up. I think there’s some breakfast if you want to grab something quick, but we gotta hurry.”
John grumbled his acknowledgement, and Dean left, shutting the door behind him.
He was even more anxious this time around to knock on Cas’s door, afraid of what he might think about Dean leaving before he was up. If there really was a one in a million chance that something was happening between them, Dean needed to be sending the right signals. He just didn’t really have a choice this morning and he hoped Cas didn’t think Dean left because he wanted to.
Dean knocked softly a few times before he creaked the door open. To his surprise, the light was already on and the bed was empty.
“Oh,” Dean opened the door all the way, still not seeing where his friend was, “Cas?”
“In here!” Cas’s voice came muffled through the bathroom door.
It was only a few seconds before he opened it and came out with his small toiletry bag in hand. He was already dressed and showered, so it couldn’t have been long after Dean left that he had gotten up.
“Did you set an alarm?”
“Nope,” Cas replied absently, not looking him in the eyes.
Sensing that something was wrong, Dean decided to clear the air, “Hey, uh—I’m sorry about ditching you this morning. I figured my Dad would have a fit if he woke up and I wasn’t in there, didn’t wanna cause any more drama, y’know?”
Cas nodded solemnly while he finished putting the last belongings into his bag. He slung the strap over his shoulder and walked up to the door. Just as Cas was about to squeeze past him, Dean put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He did stop, but he still wouldn’t make eye contact with him.
“Cas, I mean it. I—I didn’t…want to leave.” Dean admitted, his face heating up.
As soon as the words were out, Cas visibly softened.
“Look—I don’t know what happened last night…” Cas’s face morphed into worry so Dean quickly amended, “I-I liked it…whatever it was, but I um…I think maybe we should…talk about it?” This time, Dean was the one struggling to keep eye contact, his heart was beating out of his chest, “Right? I mean, if I’m reading into this the wrong way I—”
“No, you’re right. I think we—” Cas swallowed thickly, “I think we should talk about it.”
Dean nodded, biting his lower lip, “Okay.”
“Okay.” Cas echoed.
About that time, John’s door opened and he came clobbering out with the rest of the stuff that Dean hadn’t loaded into the car. As soon as he was in their line of sight, Dean swiftly let go of Cas’s shoulder and began backing out of the door.
“Y’all ready?” John grunted with his back turned to them.
Dean nodded, even though John couldn’t see, “You get breakfast, Cas?”
“No need,” Smiling, he held up one of Nature’s Valley bars Dean had gotten for him.
“Awesome, then I guess we’re ready.”
—
Due to their early morning departure, John was quiet for the first hour and then finally nodded off for the second. Cas was still in the back seat so it felt awkward trying to initiate any important conversations when he had to lean forward to talk to him. Still—they did enjoy chatting without the overbearing presence of his father. Or, conscious father, that is.
They were halfway into the second hour when Dean’s phone started buzzing in his pocket.
“Shit—” Dean grumbled as he tried getting his phone out with one hand. When he finally succeeded, he swiped on the green button and brought it up to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Dean! Hey!”
Cas studied Dean’s face in the rearview, obviously curious about who was on the other side of the line, “Sammy? H-hey, what’s up?”
“Just checkin’ in I guess, where are you guys?”
“Just outside Salt Lake City.”
“Oh nice, you should be here by tonight then!”
“That’s the plan.”
“Is Cas with you?”
“Yeah, Cas is here.” Dean looked at Cas in the mirror, who gave a tight lipped smile at the mention of his name. “I would put you on speaker phone but Dad’s asleep, so don’t wanna wake him up.”
“Yeah, I get that—”
“Not to mention I’d have to listen to you two nerds go on about sciencey shit all day.”
Cas rolled his eyes while smiling.
“You know you love sciency shit too,” Sam remarked.
“Yeah, yeah.”
Dean did actually enjoy listening to Sam and Cas talk with each other, whether it was about science or not, seeing his two favorite people get along so well—it made him inexplicably happy. It was at times like that, when Dean wished they lived closer. Because of the distance, Cas has only met Sam three times, and although they were extremely fun visits, Dean wished they could hang out more.
“So uh, I have to tell you about some change of plans…” Sam sounded sheepish.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well…heh…you know that hotel I was supposed to book for you guys?”
“Sammy…”
“I uh, I didn’t book it…”
“Sam!” Dean half-yelled, making John stir in the passenger seat. Dean lowered his voice, not wanting to disturb him, “What the hell are you talking about,” he harshly whispered.
Cas looked at him with concern.
“It’s okay, Dean, I have something better!”
“Sam, I swear to god if—”
“You’re gonna stay with me and Jess.”
Dean was quiet for a few moments while he processed Sam’s words.
“Dude, we cannot all three fit in your tiny ass dorm—”
“Okay first off, it’s not that small, and second off, it’s not our dorm you’d be staying in, it’s Jessica’s parents house.”
“What?”
“Yeah, remember how I told you her parents were pretty loaded? Well…turns out they have, like, a super big house, and they even have a guest apartment above their garage.”
“And her parents are cool with us staying?”
“Yep!”
Dean sighed, “Can we even all fit in the guest apartment.”
“Well, no, it can only sleep two people—” Dean opened his mouth to interrupt but apparently Sam could sense his doubt, so he quickly added, “—but they also have a guest bedroom in the main house, so I figured, since Dad can’t really do the stairs up to the apartment anyway, he could just take the guest bedroom and you and Cas can stay in the apartment.”
“Oh.” That actually sounded like heaven.
“Only problem is…”
“What is it Sam?”
“You’d have to share a bed. Unless one of you wanted to sleep on the floor, I guess.”
“That’s fine,” Dean smirked at Cas through the rearview mirror and his friend tilted his head in return, “We’ll figure it out.”
“Okay, great. Jessica’s parents are really looking forward to meeting you. A-and Jess too, of course.”
“Yeah, I’m excited to meet my future sis-in-law too—”
“Dean!”
“Hey, you were the one who called me and said you were gonna marry her a week after dating.”
“Yeah, I know, but please don’t say that kinda stuff around her."
“Alright, alright,” Dean chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll all have a great time.”
“Yeah,” Dean could hear the smile in Sam’s voice. “Hey, just let me know when you’re close, I’ll send you the address.”
“Sounds good, Sammy.”
“Bye, Jerk.”
“Later, Bitch.”
Dean hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.
Cas leaned forward, putting his arms on the back of the seat, “So what was that about?”
Dean smiled, “So, uh change of plans—we aren’t staying in a hotel, we’re staying at Jess’s parents house, apparently.”
“Jess—Sam’s girlfriend?”
“Yeah, Sam said they have a really big house, and there’s a guest bedroom and then a guest apartment over their garage.”
“Who’s staying where?”
“Dad can’t really do stairs with his bad knee, so Sam suggested he take the bedroom and me and you take the apartment.”
Cas nodded, “Okay, that sounds good.”
“Only thing is…” Dean gave Cas a half smile in the reflection, “there’s only one bed.”
“Ah,” Cas chuckled, “Well, I’m sure we’ll make do.”
“S’what I thought,” Dean grinned.
“You think John will be okay with it?”
Dean side-glanced at his father’s sleeping body, “He doesn’t have much of a choice.”
“I guess so,” Cas agreed.
“Probably best to just keep the ‘one bed’ thing between you and me though.”
“Probably best.”
— (Cas’s POV)
They were three hours away when Cas finally asked from his place in the backseat, “Dean, are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”
Dean opened his mouth to respond when John answered instead, “He’s fine.”
Cas narrowed his eyes at the older man, “I wasn’t asking you.”
“Well, I was just sayin’ he doesn’t need you to drive for him—”
“Considering you can’t drive at all, I don’t think you should be part of this conversation—”
“Guys!” Dean yelled, interrupting them, “I think I should be the one to answer for myself, thank you very much.”
Cas looked down at his lap, “Sorry, Dean.”
John just rolled his eyes.
“But, uh, no Cas, I’m good. Thanks though.”
John threw a smirk at Cas, which Castiel did his best to ignore.
“We only have three hours left anyway, so I think I can just push through.”
“Alright, Dean whatever you say.” Cas raised a brow, “If I see you swerving though, we’re pulling over and switching.”
“Alright, fine,” Dean reluctantly agreed.
—
Three hours passed relatively quickly, although they did end up stopping once for a quick meal, which made it a tad bit longer. It was currently 8:00 pm, and they were 5 minutes away from Jessica’s parents house. Cas could tell that Dean was getting antsy, fidgety.
If John felt the same way he didn’t show it.
“Nice neighborhood,” John commented while looking out the window, “Sam’s really got himself a good one.” His tone felt like an unspoken jab at Dean’s financial situation, or at least, that’s what Cas took it as.
He scowled at the back of John’s head.
“Yeah, I guess he does,” Dean replied absently.
When they pulled into their driveway, which was one of the fancy driveways that looped around, Dean’s jaw was agape in wonder. He must not have thought their house would be so big. Cas thought it looked nice, but he was used to fancy places like these, so it didn’t surprise him as much.
“Jesus,” Dean exclaimed while pulling up to the front of the house.
“You sure we’ll be welcome here?” John asked bitterly.
“Just be nice Dad, Sam said they looked forward to seeing us.” He said the last part in a bit of a mocking tone, Cas guessed Dean was a little skeptical too.
By the time all three of them were out of the car, Sam and Jess appeared at the doorway of the house.
“Dean!” Sam jogged through the front lawn and up to the impala, not stopping until he crashed into Dean, hugging him tightly.
Dean’s smile was warm as he wrapped his arms around his little brother, “Heya, Sammy.”
John stood on the other side of the Impala, watching his sons with an expression Cas wasn’t really sure how to interpret.
“Man, it’s so good to see you,” Sam leaned back, holding onto Dean’s shoulders.
“It’s good to see you too little bro,” Dean playfully tousled Sam’s hair, “Whatcha got growin’ there, dude? A freaking mane?”
“Shut up,” Sam knocked Dean’s hand away, laughing. Eventually, he noticed Cas who was standing to the side of them, “Oh, hey Cas!”
“Hi, Sam.” Cas gave an awkward wave, but was soon enveloped in 6 feet and 4 inches of Dean’s lanky younger brother, “Thanks for coming, Cas, it means a lot.”
“Of course,” Cas smiled as they broke away from the hug.
John was still standing on the opposite side of the car, unspeaking. The tension in the air was palpable, Sam’s body language showing that he was obviously dreading interacting with him.
Still, it couldn’t be avoided forever.
Cas's eyes were quickly drawn to Dean’s hand that was currently nudging into Sam’s side. Sam gave him a dramatic eye roll, his back still facing his Father. Finally, he turned and began walking around the car.
John shifted, turning his head up and his chest out. Sam stopped a foot or so away, “Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Sammy.” To Cas’s surprise, his voice was a little watery.
John stuck his arms out for a hug, and Sam leaned in apprehensively, giving him a short one. Still holding him by the shoulder, John shook him with a smile on his face, “It’s good to see you, boy.”
Sam looked down, his tone solemn, “Yeah, you too, Dad.”
“You gonna introduce me or not?” A cheerful voice sounded from behind Sam—Jessica.
Sam whirled around, his face brightening beyond measure. He threw an arm around his girlfriend then waved a hand in gesture to the three men, “This is my family, Jess.”
She gave a small wave, her smile was almost as wide as Sam’s.
Dean walked up, sticking his hand out, “I’m Dean,” he gave her a wink, “the hotter brother.”
She smirked, taking his hand in hers, “Nice to meet you, Dean. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Cas walked up beside Dean and Jess looked over, letting go of Dean’s hand and extending one for Cas, “Oh, hi! You must be…Cas?”
“Yes,” Cas smiled, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you’re…” she waved a finger between him and Dean, “...together?”
All the tension that had dissipated came back in full force—both Dean and Cas were blushing, but more so Dean.
“N-no no no,” Sam answered for them, his voice was panicked, “They're just friends! Remember, I told you they’re just friends.” He said the last part through gritted teeth.
“Oh! Right!” Jess laughed nervously, “So sorry guys.”
“That’s—”
“It’s no problem,” Cas interrupted Dean.
John, who was standing behind the group audibly huffed, Cas didn’t need to turn around to know what his face looked like.
“Well um, if you guys want, I had my parents order some pizza, you can eat it before you unpack all your stuff.”
“Pizza?” Dean looked at Sam and deadpanned, “I’m stealing your girlfriend.”
Sam chuckled lightheartedly but still tightened his grip on Jessica’s shoulder, “Yeah, no.”
—
The pizza was from a local place, which was absolutely delicious—and that’s saying something considering Cas was a New Yorker.
The greetings with Jess’s parents were good too. A bit awkward—especially when they met John—but overall, everyone got along nicely, and Sam and Jess seemed to be happy, which was what mattered most.
At first, Cas was skeptical of her parents, expecting them to be more like some of the rich people he’d known in his life, but they were actually very kind and generous. They didn’t have any air of superiority that Cas had often encountered with people who had money, and they obviously cared deeply for their one and only daughter, which was more than Cas could say about his own parents.
“So, Dean, you’re an EMT I hear?” Jessica’s father, Robert, inquired.
Dean, who was leaning on their kitchen island chewing on his last bite of pizza, swallowed before answering, “Yep.”
“Well that has to be an interesting occupation.”
“You could say that again,” Dean chuckled, “Although, my job probably doesn’t have anything on Cas’s.”
Robert looked at Cas, a brow raised.
“I’m an ER doctor,” he explained, “But we see similar cases, honestly.”
“Those are noble professions,” Jess’s mom, Julia, remarked.
Both the men nodded their thanks.
“Although, nobody’ll care about our jobs anymore when you two become some bigshot lawyers,” Dean teased, throwing Sam and Jess a smirk.
“We’re only graduating from pre-law, dude,” Sam laughed, “Still got a ways to go.”
John looked up from his plate, “Thought you said you had a job lined up after this?”
An uncomfortable energy settled over the room.
“It’s an internship, Dad. It’ll help me get a job after I finish law school in a few years, but it’s not a job in and of itself.”
An unapproving scowl took hold of John’s features, but Sam pointedly ignored him.
“Alright,” Dean wiped his mouth clean with a napkin, “Well, that was really good. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Moore.”
Cas hummed in agreement, his mouth still full.
“We should probably unload our stuff now,” Dean looked to Sam, “Would you mind helping Dad with his while Cas and I take our bags upstairs?”
“Yeah…” Sam grumbled reluctantly.
Cas got up and put his and Dean’s dish in the sink, then joined his side as they made their way out to the car.
Once they were alone in the driveway, Cas commented, “They seem nice.”
“Yeah, they do,” Dean agreed genuinely.
Cas side glanced at Dean as they pulled the straps of their bags onto their shoulders, “Do you think Sam’s interactions with John went well.”
Dean chewed on his lip, “I guess,” he shrugged, “As well as it could go.”
Cas nodded.
—
A few hours after Cas and Dean got their things settled and were freshly showered, there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Cas said while jogginging down the stairs. He undid the latch, unlocked it, and opened it the rest of the way to reveal a giddy Sam and Jess holding up two bottles of alcohol.
Sam grinned, “We come bearing gifts.”
“Please, come in.” Cas stepped up the stairs, letting them enter.
“Who is it?” Dean called from the little living room area.
The group of three trudged up the stairs, and as soon as Dean looked at the bottles of vodka and whiskey, he smiled, “Oh fuck yes.”
“Thought you might need a pick-me-up,” Sam sat the bottles on the small round table in the middle of the sitting room.
“And,” Jess chimed in, “We thought we could play a little game. You know—an ice breaker.”
Dean got up from his seat and grabbed a few glasses from the cabinet in the kitchenette. “Honey,” he sat the glasses beside the bottles, “We can play whatever you like as long as alcohol is involved.”
Cas felt a little put off by Dean’s overeagerness for drinking, but he figured a drinking game was a good way to have some fun and get to know each other, so he put his concerns aside and took a seat beside Dean.
Sam and Jess sat on the floor across from them and Dean opened the whiskey and poured himself and Cas some. Sam did the same for him and Jess with the vodka.
“So what we playin’?” Dean asked after taking a sip, “‘Cause if it has anything to do with stripping, I’m out.”
Sam grimaced, “Ew, Dean.”
“What? Who knows what you freaky college kids get up to.”
“Actually, we were just gonna play ‘never have I ever,’” Jess explained.
Dean stared at his brother and his girlfriend, “Are y’all in middle school?”
“Thought you said it didn’t matter as long as there’s alcohol,” Sam pointed out.
Dean’s eyes rolled, but he relented, “Fine.”
“Great,” Jess clasped her hands together, “So every time someone says something they haven’t done, if you have done it, then you take a sip of your drink.”
“Sounds fun,” Cas said.
“Probably won’t be for you,” Dean smirked, “Since you never get out and do anything exciting, you’re gonna be the most sober of all of us by the end of this.”
Cas squinted his eyes at Dean, “I guess we’ll see.”
They each took one last drink before Jess began the game, “Okay, so I’ll go first. Never have I ever…got so drunk that I threw up.”
“Wow, really starting off strong,” Dean laughed and took a swig of his drink.
Sam did as well, but Cas didn’t. When Dean noticed, he chuckled and shook his head, “What’d I say.”
Cas didn’t get a chance to rebuttal because Sam interrupted, “Your turn, Dean.”
“Right, uh…never have I ever…” he thought for several moments, then looked up with an evil grin, “Never have I ever lost my virginity at the ripe old age of 19.”
Sam scowled at him, and Jess looked over at Sam with wide eyes, “You never told me that!” she exclaimed.
“Doesn’t matter,” Sam took a sip and Dean snickered from his place on the loveseat.
“You know the game isn’t fun if you just attack one person,” Sam grumbled.
Dean shrugged, “I think it is.”
“Whatever. Cas, it’s your turn.”
The group looked at him expectantly, and he froze, not sure what to say.
“Um…” It took him a while before something finally popped into his mind, “Never have I ever kissed a woman.”
Sam and Dean laughed, applauding him for his smart thinking, but then Jess took a sip and Sam stared at her with his jaw on the floor.
“You never told—”
“It doesn’t matter,” She mimicked her boyfriend’s previous response.
When Sam still remained gawking, she set her drink down and sighed, “I’m a girl in college, Sam, what did you expect?”
“Fair point.”
Jess leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Sam’s cheek, “Your turn, Babe.”
Blushing furiously, Sam cleared his throat, “Right, uh, never have I ever…” Like the rest of them had previously done, Sam took a few seconds to come up with something. “Oh,” He said like he’d realized a genius idea, “Never have I ever kissed a dude.”
“Well played,” Cas laughed and took a sip.
Sam leaned back and crossed his arms, looking at Jess. His girlfriend gave him a suspicious look as she took a drink but didn't say anything.
Dean drank merrily away, “It’s a great day to be bisexual.”
“Drinking means you’re losing the game,” Sam scoffed.
“Not in my opinion.”
Again, Cas felt slightly vexed at Dean’s attitude towards excessive drinking, but at the same time, he was also proud that Dean felt safe enough in this little group to openly talk and joke about his sexuality. It’s a rare occurrence for him, so seeing it happen so naturally made Cas’s heart swell.
“Alright, it’s my turn again.” Jess clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, “Uh…Never have I ever…had a threesome?” She looked around to see if there were any takers.
Cas was the only one who slowly picked up his drink.
“Damn,” Sam laughed in disbelief, “What were you saying about him never doing anything fun, Dean?”
Dean rolled his eyes, “You don’t even know the half of it.”
This comment made Sam’s face change from amused to slightly disgusted, “I don’t think I wanna know.”
“You know I am older than all of you,” Cas reminded them, “So statistically, it makes sense that I’ve checked off more of my bucket list items than you all have.”
“Yeah, well, you’re the only one that even has ‘have a threesome’ on their bucket list.” Dean didn’t realize until too late that he used Cas’s fucking air quote gesture.
Cas shrugged, “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“No thanks,” Sam laughed nervously. Jess didn’t say anything, but from the look she was giving Sam, Cas could tell they’ll have a lot to talk about in the future.
“Alright, let me see if I can top that.” Dean stroked his chin thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers. “Never have I ever kissed someone in this room.”
Sam threw up his hands in indignation, “No fair!”
Jess just laughed.
Cas felt a wave of heat wash over his body. Dean wouldn’t make eye contact with him, but if he did, Cas knew he’d see a look that could kill.
The cheeky smile on Dean’s face told Cas that he already knew.
Cas tried desperately to appear unaffected as he began coming up with another idea for a prompt.
The rounds went on as each of them said something ranging from PG to scandalous that they have or haven't done, and by this point, they were all pretty tipsy.
It was Dean’s turn again, and unsurprisingly, he was the most drunk of them all. “Hmm… Lemme see…Ah, Never have I ever…mmm…graduated college.” He said the last part with a hiccup.
“Hey!” Sam blurted out quickly, “We’re not graduated yet!”
“‘K, fine. Never have I ever been to college,” Dean laughed triumphantly as the three of them took a drink from their near empty glasses. “See, it pays to be an idiot!”
“Dean.” Cas immediately threw him a look that was half-way between irritated and pitiful.
Sam gave him a similar look, understanding what Cas was trying to convey, “Man, don’t say that about yourself. College s’not the pinacle of fucking wisdom. You’re just as intelligent as the rest of us even if you didn’t go.”
Jess nodded in agreement.
“Jesus guys,” Dean threw his hands up defensively, “it was a joke.”
“You shouldn’t joke about that.” Cas remarked.
“Okay, whatever.”
The energy in the room had morphed into something more tired and awkward. They’ve been having fun, but it was obvious that many of them were reaching their limit and needed to get some sleep if they were gonna be sane people by tomorrow.
“Well, we better be going.” Sam yawned.
“Lightweights,” Dean murmured as he downed the rest of his third glass.
Sam and Jess stood up stretched their limbs, “You know, Dean, maybe some of us just aren’t alcoholics like you.”
The statement was said lightheartedly, but Sam seemed to regret it as soon as he finished saying the words. Dean sat the glass down hard and stood up. “Nice meeting you, Jess,” He said flatly, and then turned to walk to the bedroom.
Cas looked at Sam in disappointment, “I’m sorry…I know I shouldn’t’ve said that…” the younger brother hung his head.
“It’s fine, we’re all tired—we just need some rest.” It wasn’t really fine, but it’s not like Cas was gonna get into that right now.
Drunkenly, Sam walked forward and put his arms around Cas, “Thanks for comin’ man…and—and takin’ care of Dean.”
Confused and a little shocked, Cas hesitantly returned the hug, “Of course.”
Sam backed up, looking at Cas with the most genuine expression, “He needs you, y’know.”
Cas gave him a tight lipped smile, then looked over his shoulder at Jess who was currently swaying behind him, “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s needed.”
Sam spun around and gasped when he saw his girlfriend struggling to stand up straight. He gave Jess a supporting arm, then led them to the top of the stairs, looking back at Cas once more, “See ya tomorrow, Cas.”
“Goodnight, Sam.”
“Oh,” Sam turned around again, “And don’t worry about getting up super early or anything. You can probably just eat breakfast here since the fridge is stocked.”
“Okay, thank you, Sam.”
Sam nodded, and disappeared down the dark staircase.
—
Cas sighed to himself, he was feeling a lot more drunk than he’d like to. The fact that he now had to go share a bed with Dean again, and that they still needed to have a talk about last night—this was not great timing to be intoxicated.
He didn’t expect anything to happen, and to be honest, he didn’t really want anything to happen since they were both worn out. But he knew that drunk Dean was also pretty frisky, and there was a lot of room for this to go south fast.
When he walked in the bedroom, Dean was standing by the bed turned away from him. Cas approached slowly, but the floorboards creaked under his weight, making his presence known.
Dean twisted his head, “Oh, hey Cas.”
“Hey.” They haven’t talked about sleeping in the same bed tonight but Dean seemed to be okay with it, and if he was, then Cas was too.
Dean had already stripped out of his sweats, and now he was lifting his shirt up and over his head. Cas gulped, feeling like he shouldn’t be staring at Dean while he undressed. He turned around to do the same.
Both of the men climbed on their side of the bed, wiggling their way under the thick comforter. The room was much quieter than the motel from last night, which Cas felt like made things more awkward. Still, he was tired enough that it was starting not to matter.
Right as the tug of sleep began weighing on his eyelids, Dean inhaled sharply like he was about to say something. Cas’s eyes shot open looking at Dean who was lying on his back, instead of his side like Cas was.
“Cas?”
Cas blinked at him, “Yes?”
“Don’t y’think we should talk?”
“About what?” Cas could probably guess what, but he was giving Dean an out to not bring that up right now. To wait until morning—or honestly, until after their trip—to deal with this very important conversation.
The tip of Dean’s tongue peaked out, wetting his lips. He rolled over on his side, getting closer and closer to Cas, “Y’know what…” He said breathlessly, the alcohol on his breath was strong.
Cas didn’t respond.
“About yesterday, when you asked me to stay…” Dean was trying his best not to slur his words, his eyes were lidded as he looked at Cas.
They were both drunk, and not to mention, exhausted—this was a horrible time to be having this conversation.
Still, Dean couldn’t seem to let it go.
“I jus’ wanna know, Cas…why’d you do it?”
His brain was fogged, he couldn’t just admit everything to him right now, “I—I don’t know…”
“What’d you mean y’dunno?”
“I don’t know,” his voice was panicked now, “I just…wanted to.”
Dean’s cheeks, still flushed from the alcohol, turned impossibly redder. He licked his lips and looked at Cas with shining eyes. “Yeah?”
Cas went on, “Sometimes I just, I-I want…things…even when we’re not scening…”
What Cas meant, obviously, was that he wanted Dean in every way, not just sexual intimacy, but intimacy on a physical and emotional level.
That’s not what Dean heard.
“Oh,” Dean’s face fell, “S’like, more casual friends with benefits?”
“I—“
“Cause, y’know Cas, I can’t really do this if the lines aren’t clear.” Dean shifted away from him on the bed, turning over on his back again and crossing his arms over his chest. Cas couldn’t place why he was being so defensive.
Dean waited for a second for Cas to respond, when he didn’t, Dean continued, “Okay? So if I’m not wearing the collar—there’s gotta be boundaries, man.”
Wait, what?
This isn’t how Cas wanted this to go—they’re backtracking now. Cas tried to study Dean’s face, it was cold and hard. It seized at Cas’s heart, destroying any hope that had managed to find its way in.
He didn’t know what to say, but if Dean really was uncomfortable with them being intimate outside of scening, then Cas certainly would never force him to do anything, “I—I understand, Dean.” His friend looked over, his expression softening one last time before Cas assured, “It won’t happen again.”
Maybe it was the wrong answer, Cas couldn’t tell at this point, but Dean turned over fully, facing his back to Cas. He didn’t try to respond.
Realizing there was nothing further Cas could do without damaging the situation more, he turned over as well. A hot stinging prickled at the inner corner of his eyes and a lump threatened to crawl up his throat but he forced it down.
Maybe they could fix this in the morning, but right now, they both needed to sober up.
—
Dean was…weird the next morning. Cas had expected there to be tension between them, maybe even a little awkwardness, but Dean was pretty chipper and a bit flirtatious.
They had just finished eating some cereal at the small kitchenette bar, when Dean told Cas to, “Wait here.”
Cas looked at him with confusion, but did as he was told. When Dean returned, he had his shirt and sweatpants off and only his boxers still covered what was left of his exposed skin. Cas scanned him up and down, utterly confused at first about what Dean might be doing, until he noticed the small leather bracelet wrapped around Dean’s wrist.
Had he gotten that out of Cas’s bag?
“What are you doing, Dean?”
A crimson blush spread across Dean’s cheekbones, “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I-I don’t know…? Is that…the bracelet I brought?”
“Yeah…” Dean admitted shyly.
“You want to scene? Now?”
Dean nodded.
Well, Sam did say they could wake up nice and easy since the ceremony wasn't till late afternoon.
“Okay,” Cas replied softly, “Um, h-how about you go finish getting undressed in the bedroom and I’ll get ready in the bathroom. I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”
“Alright,” Dean smiled.
— (Dean’s POV)
Dean moved his hips from side to side. Instead of kneeling like he normally did, Dean decided to be a bit cheeky and get on all fours on the bed. He hoped Cas wouldn’t be too mad at him for it, he was just desperate to get this show on the road.
Their drunken conversation last night—which Dean could honestly say he didn’t remember much of besides the feeling of crushing disappointment—had driven him to ask Cas to scene today. Cas telling him that he “won’t let it happen again,” had been devastating to say the least, but at least it reminded him of the truth of the matter:
Cas doesn’t feel for Dean the same way Dean feels for him. He might have wanted more, more sex, intimacy, whatever the hell, but one thing was for sure—he didn’t want Dean.
And maybe that was just the pessimist in him talking…but he couldn’t let himself continue to hope like this.
Dean was so tired of being disappointed that he just wanted to ask for something he knew he could get—no-strings-attached, good-as-hell sex. And since they were alone anyway, they might as well take advantage of that fact.
The door clicked open, and the first thing Dean heard was an audible gasp from his Dom.
He smirked, knowing exactly what he looked like with his chest and arms pressed into the bed and his ass raised in the air.
There was the sound of Cas’s soft footsteps, and then the bed dipped with his weight. Apparently Cas was just as anxious to get to the good stuff, because he didn’t reprimand Dean for not kneeling, instead, he reached forward and wrapped a hand around Dean’s throat, then swiftly brought him up on his knees.
Dean let out a yelp of surprise, which was soon muffled when his Dom wrenched his head back and placed a deep, possessive kiss on his lips. The sub moaned into it, reaching a hand up to grasp at Cas’s forearms which were still holding tightly onto his neck.
After they finished kissing, Cas practically threw him back on the bed. Dean had just gotten his bearings when Cas splayed a wide, open palm between his shoulder blades, pressing into the skin as he dragged it up his spine and towards his ass.
Dean gripped the sheets, arching his back as much as he could, enticing his Dom.
“God, Dean you are so—” Cas cut himself off as he bent down to bite the skin of Dean’s ass.
Dean inhaled sharply, but sighed when Cas started licking the bite marks he left behind.
“So fucking needy, just couldn’t help but present yourself for me, huh?”
“Unh huh,” Dean responded, still moaning.
His moan turned into a cry when Cas smacked his ass hard, “What was that?”
“Yes, Sir…”
“Good boy,” Cas praised, “I’m guessing you want to do something involving playing with this sweet little ass then, am I correct?”
“Yes, please, Sir…” Dean continued wiggling his hips, looking back at Cas with pleading eyes.
“One moment, wait here.”
Cas got off the bed and walked over to the dresser his duffel bag was sitting on. Looking over his shoulder, Dean could see him pull out something small and shiny—he could probably guess what that was.
There was some more sounds of rustling as Cas searched through his bag, then they stopped when Cas muttered under his breath, “Fuck…”
“What is it, Sir?”
“I um, I forgot something…”
Dean pushed himself onto his knees, “What’d you forget?”
“Well, I brought this,” Cas held up one of Dean’s favorite toys, a vibrating, remote controlled, butt plug, “But…I didn’t bring any lube.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Unfortunately not,” Cas shook his head, still searching the pockets of his bag.
Dean sighed, “I might have some in my bag, if you wanna check.”
“Alright,” Cas walked to the other side of the room where Dean’s bag was laying on the floor.
As he searched through it, Dean got back on all fours.
“Ah ha!” Cas pulled out a bottle of lube, tossing it on the bed beside Dean. He then started zipping the bag up when he suddenly stopped.
Dean looked back again, confused why Cas wasnt coming over already.
“Uh, Dean…?”
“Yeah?” Cas was obviously looking at something in Dean’s bag, he just couldn’t see what it was from this angle.
“What are these?” Cas turned around, holding up a pair of red lace panties that—to Dean’s horror—he had forgotten he packed.
Dean scrambled to get on his knees, practically jumping off the bed, “That—um, I-I can explain…”
Cas looked at him expectantly, still holding them in his hand.
“I—I—” He wasn’t sure how to respond.
His love of wearing panties was something he’s been—well, not hiding, per se—but avoiding telling Cas. He hadn’t seen it on the kink list and since he hasn’t had the guts to bring it up himself, he’s kept quiet about it.
What if Cas found it weird…? Maybe he could lose his attraction towards Dean…it could ruin their whole dynamic.
“Dean,” Cas’s voice tore him away from his racing thoughts. He laid the panties back on top of his bag, “If you enjoy wearing them, you can just say that, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Dean’s face was burning up, “You don’t think that’s weird?”
“No.” It was a simple answer said in a neutral tone. Dean was glad Cas wasn’t disgusted—at least, outwardly—but he was still itching to know exactly how he felt about it.
Maybe he should explain more, “I don’t um…I don’t wear them all that much. Jus’ got into ‘em cause of my first girlfriend.”
Cas raised a brow in question, signaling him to go on.
“C-cassie, was her name, she made me try ‘em on one night…and I dunno…” Dean looked down at the carpet, “It just felt good…so, I wear ‘em every now and then.”
When Dean looked up, Cas’s eyes were probably more dilated than they’ve ever been.
“So, this is a sexual thing?”
“Is it a kink? Yeah, I guess,” Dean confirmed with a short laugh.
Evidently that was the confirmation Cas had been waiting for, because his whole demeanor shifted from something neutral and guarded to a countenance completely consumed by lust. He stalked forward, crowding Dean until the back of his knees hit the side of the bed.
“May I see you in them?” Cas’s voice had dropped at least three octaves.
“Y-you want that?” Dean asked on an exhale.
Eyes lidded, Cas cleared his throat, “Very much so.”
Dean didn’t trust his voice to respond, but he nodded.
Cas turned around, grabbing the panties from the bag, “Let’s try this again,” he handed them to his sub, “I’ll wait outside for a few minutes, and I want you to put these on and get in the same position you were just in, do you understand?”
A meek whimper escaped from Dean’s throat, “Yes, Sir.”
His Dom smirked at him, and after giving him a surprisingly soft kiss on his cheek, he quickly exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
There was a full-length body mirror behind the bedroom door, which was nice, because now Dean got to experience the satisfaction of watching as the dark red lace scraped against the skin of his calves, then thighs, as Dean dragged it upwards. This pair wasn’t a thong, but it did fit snugly in all the right places, accentuating his cheeks and framing his cock nicely. Dean took a few extra seconds to rub himself through the satin-y part of the panties in the front. And as usual…
It felt so fucking good.
Dean had only been in position for a few seconds when Cas walked in once again. This time, his Dom let out a full groan at the sight. He made haste rushing to the bed and placing his large hands on Dean’s hips, feeling the contrast between Dean’s soft skin and the roughness of the lace.
“And here I thought you couldn’t get any more mouthwatering.” Cas placed sloppy kisses across Dean’s ass, pressing them into bare skin, and then into the panties. “We’re gonna make a mess of you, sweetheart.”
Dean whined, pressing his hips back. Cas got up on his knees, letting his groin connect with Dean’s ass. They were separated by the fabric of Cas’s sweatpants, and now, Dean’s panties—but it was still one of the most sensual things Dean’s ever felt.
“Fuck…” Cas gritted, squeezing Dean’s hips—if he kept it up, there would surely be bruises forming there by the end of the day.
Not that Dean minded.
“Stay here,” Cas whispered, leaning down to kiss his lower back.
Dean did as he was told, trying not to squirm too much in his Dom’s absence. He didn’t have to wait long, however, before Cas was back on the bed and gently threading his fingers in the waistband of his panites. Slowly, he pulled the material down just enough for his hole to be exposed.
A cool dribble of lube was poured onto his entrance, and Dean gasped as Cas immediately began rubbing it against his rim. He wasted no time preparing him, inserting one finger…then two…and eventually Cas was roughly pumping two fingers inside him and Dean was fucking panting with need.
It’s been a while since Cas has fucked him good and hard—or fucked him, period.
He needs this badly, needs to get rid of the thoughts swirling in his mind about how this was temporary, about how Cas doesn’t love him anymore than a friend; just erase everything and replace it with the feeling of Cas sliding inside him, carving out a space and placing his claim over him.
Three fingers in now, Cas was breathing almost as hard as Dean was—especially when the pads of his finger tips grazed Dean’s prostate, making Dean keen with desire.
“W-want you, Sir…” Dean’s voice sounded like sandpaper.
“I know, sweetheart. Just so beautiful coming undone on my fingers, could stay here like this all day…”
Dean shook his head in indignation, “No…please, Sir…”
“Please what?”
“Want—wanna come on your dick…want you to f-fuck me—god—please…”
The only response Cas gave was a deep growl as he withdrew his fingers and brought them up to Dean’s lips.
“Suck.”
He was about to do just that when his phone began ringing on the nightstand. The fingers disappeared and Dean groaned and whined simultaneously, fully ready to ignore whoever the fuck was interrupting them.
“Dean—”
The sub dropped his head on the bed, shaking it.
“It’s your brother.”
Dean lifted his head and strained his neck so he could look up and over the side of the bed.
“Dammit.”
Still huffing his dissatisfaction, Dean got up and answered the phone, his panties still awkwardly half-on half-off.
“Hey, Dean, you guys awake?” His brother was annoyingly cheerful—little cockblocker.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“We were just wondering if you guys wanted to come eat some lunch?”
Dean gave Cas a confused look, “Uh, we just had breakfast like an hour ago…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about you guys, but we were pretty hungover, so we woke up kinda late.”
“Well I’m fine. Jess isn’t feeling too great, but it’ll wear off.”
“That’s good.” The silence that followed Dean’s comment told him that Sam was silently asking for something. “Spit it out, Sam.”
“Uh…I’m sorry to ask, man, but it’s really awkward with just me, Jess, and Dad.” He said in a hushed voice.
“Where are the Moore’s?”
“They're out running errands and making some reservations for tonight.”
“Reservations?”
“Yeah, they’ve invited everyone out to eat after graduation.”
“Everyone being…?”
“Well, us, a few more people Jess and I know, and some family members—nothing too big.”
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and Cas looked at him with concern, “Okay, well, how about you just go somewhere Dad isn’t?”
“It’s not that simple, Dean.”
Dean sighed.
Fuck, he really wanted to get fucked.
“Fine, we’ll be right down.”
“Thanks, Dean.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” With that, Dean hung up and placed his phone back down on the nightstand.
He looked at Cas, “We gotta go.”
Cas’s lips tightened into a frown, but he nodded his understanding.
Right as Dean was about to pull his panties off the rest of the way, Cas stopped him, “Wait, Dean—”
“What?”
“I uh…” Cas looked over to the dresser where the plug had been left abandoned, “I was going to suggest something.”
Dean raised his eyebrows and pulled the panties back up. If Cas had some idea in mind that involved them getting off, then he was all in.
“If you wanted, we could use that wrist band for what it was made for.” He nodded towards the thin leather bracelet encircling Dean’s arm.
Dean looked down at his wrist, then back up at Cas, “What do you mean?”
“A public scene,” Cas explained, “Well, not public public, but…I do have the remote controlled plug, and…I think it’s possible we could try something enjoyable, yet also discreet.”
Well this would be a big step for them. He hadn’t completely limited public scening on the kink list, but he had been pretty hesitant about it. Maybe he’d be more on board if he wasn’t surrounded by his family members…
“I don’t know…”
“We don’t have to do it, Dean.” Cas assured him.
“I mean, it sounds nice—I just don’t know if I could wear…that…” he looked at the plug, “Around my brother and dad.”
“I understand,” Cas nodded, “Although we wouldn't have to actually use it until…say—the ceremony or after party.”
Now that might be doable.
“Yeah?”
“Of course.”
Dean pursed his lips, he was really looking forward to some stress relief…And worse comes to worse, he could just end the scene if it got too uncomfortable.
“Okay…”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” he said more confidently.
“Alright then, hop back on the bed and let’s get you ready,” Cas smirked.
Gleefully, Dean got back in position for the third time. Cas collected the plug and coated it in lube. The cold metal made Dean shiver as it came in contact with his skin. His hole fluttered, welcoming it when Cas began pushing in.
“Jesus…” Dean whimpered out.
Cas did a little more twisting and grinding until Dean’s dick was fully hard again and he was so close to coming.
Right before Dean could beg for release, Cas gripped the base of his cock, “You have a long way to go before you get that, sweet boy.” Dean thrashed, a little aggrieved at the release he was being denied.
His Dom did not appreciate his attitude on the matter.
“Looks like someone needs a little help with self control,” he growled into Dean’s ear. The hand on his cock disappeared momentarily, but was quickly replaced with a silicone cock ring. It’s been a hot minute since Dean’s worn one of those, and he was not looking forward to wearing it all day.
Dean groaned indignantly, writhing in Cas’s hold, trying to get away from the cock ring being pushed down his aching dick. Suddenly, his arms gave out from under him as his upper body was pushed viciously into the bed, his face smushed into the comforter as Cas used the leeverage of his body weight to shove him into the mattress, trapping him. Cas’s clothed cock once again made contact with his ass, although, this time it helped to push the plug further inside him. “G-god—” The spark of pleasure from the plug being pressed into his prostate made him wail into the sheets.
“If you want to come at all today, I suggest you fix your attitude.” Cas’s hands were strong and commanding as they kept him securely held down, back arched and ass raised.
Cas was always hot as fuck to Dean, but there was something about this Cas that got Dean going like nothing else. The Cas who wouldn’t take any shit from Dean, who forced him to obey, to be good. Sometimes his Dom was hesitant to take on this persona, but Dean always made sure to tell him after a scene how much he fucking loved it.
Since he’s already pushed enough of Cas’s buttons, Dean deflated in submission, “Yes, Sir…I’m sorry, Sir…”
The force pushing Dean into the bed lessened, as Cas leaned more upright, “You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” Cas sat back on his ankles, running his hands once more up Dean’s sides and hips. A few more twists of the plug—and desperate moans from Dean—then Cas was pulling up his panties, hiding the plug nestled securely inside him.
“Sit up, Dean.”
Dean followed his orders, rising to his knees. He was a little disoriented from being in the position with his head down—not to mention the subtle pull of sub-space—but Cas brought him gently to his chest, grounding him. His Dom kissed his neck and cheek gently, “We’re going to discuss some ground rules now, okay?”
Dean nodded.
“Now, since I know we’re going to be surrounded by your family, it’s not necessary for you to call me anything but ‘Cas,’ since a title—or even calling me by full name—would draw suspicion.”
“Sounds good, Sir,” Dean said gratefully.
“I will, however, expect you to be as polite as possible, and try your best to not speak too loudly or out of turn, okay?”
That was doable, not great, but doable, “Okay, Sir.”
“Good. I also would like you to trust me to make decisions for you during this scene. This can be anything from choosing where we sit to what you eat at the restaurant after the ceremony.”
Dean groaned in response to his latter stipulation. Cas simply chuckled, “Don’t worry Dean, I wouldn’t make you eat anything you don’t like.”
“Fine…” He stuck out a pouting lip.
“I won’t use the plug the whole time, only when I can discern when it is appropriate and discreet to do so. I expect you to remain as quiet as possible, although you can let me know if it’s getting too much by either blinking twice or tapping me twice. If you feel like you’re getting close to an orgasm—though it should be mostly impossible with the ring on—I would like you to inform me by blinking three times or tapping three times. How does that sound, Dean?”
Lying against Cas’s chest, Dean fiddled with the leather bracelet on his wrist. This was definitely gonna be intense, but he could do it.
He wanted to, as much as he was embarrassed to admit it.
“Good, Sir.”
“You may also tap me twice if you do not agree with a decision I make or have concerns about the scene. If you’d like to end the scene completely, you may take off the bracelet and I will give you the remote.”
Dean nodded, “Alright, Sir.”
With the rules now laid out nice and clear, Dean and Cas spent their last few minutes of freedom cuddling. It wasn’t long, however, until Dean’s phone rang again and Dean didn’t even need to look at it to know who it was.
“We better get going before Sam starts a war with my Dad,” Dean grumbleed.
“I agree.”
They separated, and as Cas began putting a shirt on over his head, Dean went to change out of his panties.
“Dean,” Cas said from behind him, “Leave them on.”
Dean blushed. He usually never wore them in public, and especially around his Dad, but this would amplify the scene a lot.
He decided to trust his Dom, pulling the panties back up, “Yes, Sir.”
Cas smiled devilishly.
—
The rest of the day leading up to the ceremony went well. Dean spent a lot of time talking with Jess, getting to know her more, while Sam and Cas caught up. His Dad had retired to his room to take a nap, but Dean knew it was probably because he wasn’t feeling well. He had tried to keep up with his medicine taking this trip, but telling his Dad to take his medicine, and his Dad actually taking it were two different things.
It was nice though, getting to spend more time with just the four of them. Thankfully, they all got along super well, so time passed quickly as they continued chatting through the whole afternoon.
Eventually it got to the point where they needed to start getting ready, so they split up. After Dean and Cas got dressed in their nice clothes, Dean’s panties still hiding underneath his black slacks, they went downstairs to get his Dad.
As suspected, John wasn’t fully ready when they made it downstairs. Dean tried rushing him, but there was little he could do to make him go faster.
Dean hoped they would still make it on time.
—
Stanford’s campus was absolutely stunning. It was made up of beautiful buildings, along with equally eye-catching scenery surrounding them. Palm trees flowed in the wind, and there were several graduates taking pictures in front of the luscious plants and buildings.
Sam and Jess were already in their seats in the stadium—Sam was an early bird—so Dean, Cas, and John had plenty of time to find somewhere to sit.
They walked slowly up the cream-colored steps, John’s knee only allowing him to go so fast. Dean didn’t mind though, it meant he had more time to soak up all of this beautiful architecture and landscape.
Cas seemed to notice his fascination, “Have you never seen palm trees before, Dean?”
“Uh, no, not in real life.”
Cas nodded.
“Actually,” Dean laughed to himself, “I haven’t been this close to the coast in probably…well ever.”
“Wait,” Cas’s eyebrows drew up quizzically, “You’ve never been to the beach?”
“No?”
“H-how have you never been to the beach?”
“I just…never went…” Dean didn’t want to say it was because his Dad hated the beach and never made an effort to take them, but with him listening right behind him, he thought it was best not to.
“We’ll have to go sometimes,” Cas beamed at Dean.
Going on a trip to the beach with Cas? Just the two of them? That sounded like heaven, “Yeah, we should.”
The stadium was filled to the brim with people, and Dean felt the hair on his neck prickle at the sight. He hated large crowds, but he especially hated navigating large crowds with his Dad. To his relief, they were able to get the location of where Jess’s parents were sitting, so they made their way to that section, trying not to stumble over people.
As soon as Julia noticed them approaching, she waved them down, “Boys! Hi!”
“Hey Mrs. Moore,” Dean smiled, “Mind if we sit with y’all?”
“Not at all, we saved you some seats!”
Sure enough there were three seats at the very end of the row. John went in first, sitting beside Julia. Dean was about to follow him when Cas’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Let me,” he said with a pointed look.
At first, Dean was about to protest. John was already on edge enough as it was, putting him next to Cas would surely be a horrible idea. But then Cas’s hand drifted down his arm, stopping at the wrist and rubbing the leather band in reminder of what they were currently doing.
Dean clamped his mouth shut and let Cas enter the row first. It was nice that he got to sit at the end, but he was still worrying about his Dad and Cas getting in a fight.
Apparently sensing his worry, Cas leaned in close to his ear, “Don’t worry about it, Dean. Just relax.” Cas’s arm descended discreetly over the back of his seat, his fingers rubbed comfortingly on his shoulder.
Dean took a deep breath, letting go.
Ten minutes later the ceremony started. After a few boring speeches—which Dean almost fell asleep during because of Cas rubbing his back—they finally began calling the graduates names. Sadly, it was over an hour before they got to Jessica and another 30 minutes before they called Sam’s name.
”Samuel Henry Winchester.”
Dean fought the urge to cheer, but since they were told to hold applause till the end, he only cheered internally. He was just so damn proud of his brother. Despite everything they went through and the tough transition of moving out here by himself, Sam did it. And now he was going on to achieve even greater things, Dean couldn’t be prouder.
When it was finally over, Dean stood up and clapped and hollered with everyone else. Cas joined him, and even John was cheering.
“We gotta go find him,” Dean said excitedly.
“We’re going to meet them outside of the stadium,” Julia told him.
“Oh.”
The group slowly but surely made their way out of the stadium. When they were just coming out of the exit, Dean spotted his shaggy-haired brother standing tall above the crowd.
“There he is!” Dean pointed. He squinted his eyes, seeing that Sam was standing next to Jess and…someone else. Someone who looked really familiar…
The unidentified man, who was wearing a ball cap and a flannel, turned around. “No way,” Dean laughed, jogging up to the three of them. “Bobby! How’d you get here?”
“A plane,” Bobby deadpanned, “They’re real nice for goin’ long distances.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean rolled his eyes, still smiling. He gave him a hug, “It’s good to see you, Bobby.”
“You too, kid.”
After they parted ways, Dean turned to Sam who was grinning from ear to ear. “Come here,” he said while looking away. Sam leaned in wrapping Dean in a tight hug—and despite their height difference—burying his face in Dean’s neck.
“I’m proud of you, Sammy.” He whispered out in a waterlogged voice. He felt Sam nod and sniffle, not too far away from tears himself. A minute or so later, Dean leaned back, letting go of his little brother.
“You did it, Sam.”
Sam huffed a short laugh, “Well, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
“Hah, bullshit.”
“I mean it, Dean.” Sam looked at him the same way he used to when they were kids—almost as if Dean was still the taller one and Sam was looking up at him in awe.
“Stop it man,” he shoved Sam away, but his brother just kept smiling.
The moment came to a halt when John stepped up beside Dean, Sam’s smile faded, “What? You’re old man doesn’t get a hug too?”
Sam shook his head, giving his father a quick hug.
“You did good, Sam. I know I haven’t always agreed with this…’advanced education’ crap, but you did good.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Jess came up to Sam’s side, grabbing his hand, “Everybody ready to go?”
“Go where?” Bobby asked gruffly from behind Dean.
“We have a reservation at a restaurant in town. You should come, Bobby!” Sam exclaimed excitedly.
Bobby nodded, “Well if y’all got room, I’ll be there.”
Sam nodded, “Of course we have room!”
After everyone finished giving their hugs, Dean and his passengers walked back to the Impala. As they were getting in the car, Dean tapped Baby’s roof, getting his Dad’s attention, “Hey,” John looked up disgruntled, “This place we’re going to has a bar. You gonna be good?”
John shook his head, “I’m a grown man Dean, now get in the car.”
Dean sighed.
They pulled up in the parking lot of the restaurant, and Dean immediately felt nervous. There were so many people—several of which Dean didn’t know—and then throw in the fact that his Dad was gonna be surrounded by alcohol? Dean wasn’t far from panicking.
When he put the car in park, his Dad didn’t even wait for them, he simply climbed out of the Impala and headed inside.
“Dad, wait up!” Dean yelled after him but his father ignored him.
Cursing in frustration, Dean slammed the door of the Impala—not with too much force, in fear of damaging his precious car.
Cas looked at him with pity, “It’s alright, Dean. Sam is already in there, he can watch him.”
Dean walked around to Cas’s side, straightening his dark red button-down, “It’s like having a toddler.” Cas couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment.
“It’s gonna be a rough night,” Dean exhaled.
His friend smiled, “We’ll get through it. Together.”
Cas did a quick look around the parking lot, making sure they were out of sight from anyone since they were parked on the outside. To Dean’s complete shock, Cas grabbed his waist and brought him right up against his chest, and with a tug, guided his lips to his. He turned his head, pressing commandingly into Dean’s mouth.
A surprised moan escaped through the seam of his lips, and just as quickly as it had happened, Cas pulled away. They were both panting, flushed. Cas looked a little surprised at what he’d just done.
“W-what was that for?” Dean croaked, still reeling.
Cas smirked, “Call it a…pick-me-up,” continuing to stare at Dean’s lips.
Dean didn’t respond, but he couldn’t tear himself away from the sight of his Dom lusting for him so intensely. After a few seconds, Cas’s hand let go of one of his arms and inserted into his pocket, pulling out the small black remote that controlled the plug still nestled inside Dean.
“Fuck…” Dean almost moaned out the word. He shifted on his feet feeling the plug—he’d honestly forgotten about its presence. But now, with his renewed arousal, he was clenching around the object in excitement.
“What’s your color, Dean?”
Dean was about to blurt out ‘green,’ when something in him hesitated. They were about to walk in a building with so many people—people who Dean wanted to make a good impression with. This might be a bad idea…
“As always, I won’t force you, Dean. I will say, however, if it’s the people you're worried about, I can assure you that they won’t notice.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I have done this with other subs many times.”
Dean frowned at the mention of Cas’s ‘other’ subs, but he did appreciate the reassurance.
“Okay…just—don’t turn it all the way up please…”
“I promise I won’t give you anything you can’t handle, Dean.”
Dean bit his lip, looking his Dom up and down, “Then I’m green, Sir.”
“Good,” Cas leaned in one more time, giving him a chaste kiss on his lips.
—
The restaurant was cold inside, and packed full of people. Thankfully, the Moore’s had reserved a separate room for their group of about twenty-five people including, all of them, some of Jess and Sam’s friends, and some of Jess’s extended family, so they didn’t have to worry about being packed around a table in the main dining area.
The room itself was nice, and Dean’s mouth watered at the smell of food cooking. Half of the group was here, most of whom, being people Dean already knew, which was comforting. He spotted his father sitting next to a couple of guys—which Dean guessed were friends of Sam and Jess—at the end of the table. They were sitting on either side of him and looked to be in deep conversation. The sight made Dean worry—anyone that was interested in talking to his Dad probably didn’t have anything productive to say.
Since the seats by John were taken, Cas led Dean to the opposite end of the table, closest to the door. Cas pulled out Dean’s chair, which partly made Dean blush and look around frantically to see if anyone was watching, and also partly made butterflies swirl in his stomach. Cas took his own seat on Dean’s left.
Sam and Jess were in the middle of the table, already conversing with Bobby and Jess’s parents. Nobody had taken the empty seat next to Dean, which he was grateful for.
The server who had been walking around taking drink orders came up to them, “Can I get you a drink?”
A cold beer sounds heavenly right about now, Dean thought, and was just about to put in his order when Cas spoke up.
“Two waters please.”
The server nodded and jotted it down in his notepad.
Dean turned his head to Cas, his jaw clenched in annoyance.
“Remember the rules, Dean,” Cas whispered under his breath.
Dean sat back against his chair, crossing his arms in grievance, “Yeah, well fuck the rules.”
He thought he had said his complaint low enough that Cas didn’t hear, but immediately realized he’d failed when Cas placed a hand on his thigh, gripping firmly. He leaned close to Dean’s ear, “Watch your mouth, sweet boy.”
Dean gulped, and then almost choked as the plug in his ass came to life.
“Shit—” he grunted.
The vibrations weren’t very powerful, just enough that Dean noticed them, but combined with his previous arousal and the fact that they were now in public—it made Dean’s dick harden fast, straining against the silicone ring.
Cas, the smug bastard, sat back, looking around the room as if nothing had happened.
This was definitely gonna be a long night.
—
It wasn’t long until the table began to fill up, and eventually the seat next to Dean was taken by one of Jess’s aunts. She was nice, but didn’t pay much attention to Dean.
If Cas wasn’t here, Dean would probably feel a little put out at being at the end of the table away from Sam. But since his friend was here, and there was currently a plug buzzing away inside him, he wasn’t complaining too much.
When the server came the second time to take their food order, Dean didn’t even try to say anything. The hand, warm and unmoving on his thigh, kept him submissively quiet, letting Cas order for them. He trusted Cas to get something he’d enjoy.
“I’ll have the grilled chicken with a side of baked potato and a caesar salad, and…he will take a steak, medium-rare, with fries and fruit salad on the side.”
“Sounds good, it’ll be out shortly,” the server nodded and moved on to the next guest.
“Wow,” Dean was dumbfounded at how accurately Cas had ordered for him, “You know me so well.”
“I’d like to think so,” Cas smiled.
—
The food tasted as delicious as it smelled. Dean hadn’t had any food besides the cereal they ate this morning so he was starving to say the least. As he was shoving the pieces of steak into his mouth, Cas tapped his shoulder, “Slow down, Dean.”
Dean ignored him in favor of stuffing three fries in his mouth, shucking Cas’s hand off his shoulder as he did.
Cas didn’t push further and Dean thought that was the end of it until he felt the vibrations in his ass almost double in intensity.
“Fu—” Dean gasped and a piece of food became lodged in his throat for a second. He coughed and hit his fist on his chest, trying to get it out.
The people in front and beside him looked at him with worry, and the sweet elderly aunt sitting beside him looked over, “Oh honey, are you okay?”
After a few more coughs, Dean replied with a raspy voice, “Yeah—” another cough, “I’m fine, thanks.”
“You have to chew your food slowly, sweetheart,” she commented, her tone sympathetic.
Dean just nodded, purposefully ignoring the annoying smirk he knew was spreading across Cas’s face. He did, in fact, slow down, trying desperately to ignore his rising arousal.
Eventually it got to the point where Dean was starting to lose his appetite. He couldn’t help but squirm, which inevitably only made it worse when the plug pushed up right against his prostate, drawing sharp little inhales from him. A few people may have looked over now and then, but mostly everyone was so lost in their own conversation that they didn’t pay attention to Dean.
If this was only the second or third setting Dean did not want to know how he would react to the fourth or fifth. It was already getting difficult to keep quiet, and his dick was crying—literally, droplets of precum were seeping onto his panties. He was grateful his pants were black so it wouldn’t be noticeable if a wet spot started appearing.
By the time most everyone was done with their meals, Dean was losing his mind. He was just about to ask Cas to turn it down—or let him come—when the servers came out holding small plates with slices of chocolate cake on them. Two of the slices had little decoration graduation hats sticking out and were handed to Jess and Sam. All drinks were filled and then Jess’s Dad stood up, clinking his glass with a knife.
“I would like to propose a toast to my beautiful daughter, Jess, and her boyfriend Sam—who is practically our son—” the group laughed, “and congratulate them on graduating their first four years of college.”
Everyone clapped and cheered—Dean being the loudest of them all. Sam was blushing, but still smiling from ear-to-ear with Jess hanging off his arm. Everyone raised their glasses for the toast, then drank.
As he was putting his glass of water back on the table, Dean noticed that his Dad was missing, along with the two men he was sitting with.
Anxiety settled in his gut, where was he?
Probably in the bathroom, he reasoned.
Hopefully.
Dean looked at his plate. The cake looked delectable, but Dean couldn’t be bothered to eat right now with how worked up he was. Everytime he thought he was getting used to the sensations of the plug, he would move and the angle would hit something deeper inside him, making his pleasure intensify.
A low whimper crept up his throat, he leaned up to Cas’s ear, “Cas…”
Cas took a bite of the cake, humming a satisfied moan as the fork slid out of his mouth, “This is amazing, Dean. You should try some.”
Dean glowered at him.
What a fucking tease.
Well, two can play at that game.
More determined than ever, Dean slid his hand onto Cas’s thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. He leaned in again, “Sir…please.” He whispered as discreetly as he could.
Cas went deathly still, his breath stalling. Finally, after a few seconds with no response, Cas set his fork down and grabbed Dean's hand, “I’m going to the restroom,” he said the words almost like a question, then got up and left.
Dean knew where this was going.
He waited a few minutes, then got up himself, walking out of the room and into the main dining area. He spotted the restroom sign on the other side, and made his way there. As he walked, he glanced over at the bar. For a split second he could have sworn he thought he saw one of the two men that were with his Dad, standing at one end, but after studying the bar for a few seconds and not seeing him, he gave up, anxious to get to Cas.
In addition to a men’s and women’s restroom, there was also a unisex singular bathroom. Dean didn’t hesitate going to that one. He knocked on the door, “It’s me,” he said in a hushed voice.
The door immediately opened and he was dragged inside. Cas fisted tightly into the front of his shirt, slamming him against the now shut door.
“Do you know what you do to me?” He asked in a heady tone before diving in and kissing him breathless. Dean didn’t even try to respond, deciding to let go and let Cas guide their movements as they made out in the small bathroom.
The plug was still going as strong as ever, and Dean relished in the fact that he got to voice his pleasure freely now. Cas wrenched back, placing a palm over his mouth to muffle his sounds, “We wouldn’t want anyone to hear how needy you are, now would we?”
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, but continuing to wail into Cas’s hand as the plug was turned on to the highest setting. He would already be ruining his panties by now if it weren’t for the damned cock ring. He was hoping Cas would take it off and let him come while they were in here.
Cas swiftly turned them around so they were facing the mirror. He grabbed onto Dean’s torso, and wrapped a large hand around his neck, trapping Dean’s arms mostly to his sides.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Cas’s breath was hot on his neck, “You’re gonna stand here and watch yourself come undone, but you are not going to come. Do you understand me?”
Dean deflated but nodded his head, “Yes, Sir.”
“The only way I will turn off the plug is if you beg me to. It will continue to run until I think you have begged sufficiently.”
He continued squirming in Cas’s hold, thrusting his hips back, “Fuck—Yes, Sir.”
Dean stared at their reflection in the mirror. They painted such a beautiful picture together—Dean, panting and whimpering, one hand reaching back, holding onto Cas’s hip, and the other grabbing tightly onto the arm that was wrapped around his waist. Castiel, mouthing at the side of Dean’s neck and with his free hand, grabbing gently—yet firmly—onto the front of Dean’s throat.
The plug buzzed and buzzed. It was endless. It sent shivers of pleasure all the way through his body, made his vision go blurry—or maybe that was Cas’s hand on his throat? Dean didn’t really care—he wanted so badly to come, but he knew he shouldn’t.
He wanted more than anything else to please his Dom, to make him proud. He could do it.
And so they stood there—Dean writhing in Cas’s hold, eyes squeezed shut and mouth ajar, letting out breathy moans.
“Open your eyes,” the command was fierce, and his Dom emphasized it by tightening his grip on Dean’s neck.
He obeyed, peeling his eyelids back open, drinking in the sight once more. The debauchery of their coupling was too much for him, he was getting close.
Dean knew what he had to do to get it to stop. Just ask, beg, like Cas had told him to. But even though he knew he wasn’t getting an orgasm out of this, he still wanted to enjoy it a little while longer.
Finally the wave began to crest—building, building, building. Cas’ hand twisted his jaw upwards, revealing more skin. He bit and licked, leaving his mark on his sub, his property. Dean felt so many things at once—a desperate need for release, the subtle humiliation that came with semi-public sex, and a never ending train of thought running through his mind that said Cas Cas Cas.
Lost in the sensations of it all, Dean was getting dangerously close to an orgasm.
Cas noticed.
“Do not come, Dean.”
God that voice just made Dean want to come even more.
“You know the rules. So unless you want a punishment later tonight, I suggest you use your words.”
Dean choked out another gasping moan, “Please…” he whispered.
Cas bit at the point between his neck and shoulders, “Oh, I think you can do better than that.”
“Please! C—Sir! Please turn it off…I’m gonna come…don’t want to…please—please!”
Cas lowered the vibrations until there was just the slightest buzz.
“Good boy.”
Dean moaned again, mostly from Cas’ use of the pet name, and sighed in both relief and frustration.
Cas leaned forward to put the remote on the counter, hand still around Dean’s neck
“Now, what do you say, Dean?”
Dean’s eyes widened a bit, he quickly let out a breathy, “Thank you.”
“Ah ah.”
Cas pulled on Dean’s neck until he was leaning back as far as he could, gaze locked with his Dom.
Cas’ other hand came to the back of Dean’s head, pulling on the short strands near the nape of his neck, deepening the strain.
“Properly.”
Realization striking Dean, he immediately croaked out, “Thank you, Sir.”
“That’s my good boy.”
—
Cas decided to leave first to try and draw suspicion away from them going to the bathroom together. A few minutes after Cas had left, Dean decided to venture out, taking one last look in the mirror to make sure his hair wasn’t too wild and his face wasn’t too flushed.
To his surprise, as soon as he opened the door, Dean was met with the two men that had been sitting beside his father. One guy was on the tall and skinny side, while the other was a bit more stout—muscley. Seeing them up close, Dean felt like he remembered who the taller one was—Brady, a friend of Sam’s.
“Hey, fellas,” he said as he tried to pass by.
The shorter one stuck his arm out to the side, stopping him, “Where you goin’?”
“Uh, back to my seat,” he said looking down at the hand pressed against his chest. The shorter man pushed him backwards, causing him to stumble back a few steps.
“Woah, what the fuck?”
Brady stepped into his space, “What were you doin’ in there?”
“It’s a fucking bathroom, what do you think I was doing?”
Brady looked behind Dean’s shoulder, “That’s a one-person bathroom, but—” he chuckled darkly, “I just saw your little boyfriend come out a few minutes ago, and then you.”
Dean’s face began to heat up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, okay, because we’ve been talking to your daddy—that guy has a lot to say when he’s drunk—”
“Drunk?!” Dean asked in panic.
Brady ignored the question, “—And imagine our surprise when he told us Sam’s big brother was a fucking fag,” he sneered.
So many emotions were fighting inside him—fear that his father was drinking, and now rage that these fuckers had the audacity to talk to him like that.
“What the hell is your problem?”
Brady got closer up to Dean’s face, his breath stank of beer, “You like to suck men off, huh? Is that what you were doing in there?”
“That’s none of your fucking business,” he spat.
“So you do.” His eyes stared him down like a predator eyeing its prey, “You like being a piece of meat for men, yeah? Just a little slut for cock.”
Dean felt something in him freeze up. The way Brady was talking to him…it was the same way all those perverted men used to talk about him when he was younger, when he needed fast, easy money.
A vile smirk creeped upwards on Brady’s face, “How about we go in there—” His boney fingers pushed Dean until his back hit against the bathroom door, “—and you can show us how much you love sucking dick.”
“I think I’ll pass.” His voice broke mid-sentence.
“Oh come on,” the shorter guy stepped up, boxing him against the door, “We know you want to, you’re probably hard just thinkin’ about it.”
Brady nodded, “How about it, Dean, we’ll treat you so good, give you everything you’re craving.”
“How about I just break your jaw instead,” Dean suggested.
Brady’s lip curled upwards, “We know you want—”
A sickening crack sounded through the restaurant, loud enough it could be heard over the chattering voices. Brady fell back with such a force that he knocked into the wall unconscious. The other man looked at Brady in shock, then whipped around to Dean and charged. He may have been a little more of a challenge because of his size, but it wasn’t anything Dean couldn’t handle. He dodged the man's fist and came around with a left hook, hitting him in the same place he did Brady. He stumbled to the side, grabbing onto the wall for support.
About that time, some kids passed by on the way to the restroom. When they saw the two men bleeding—as well as Dean’s bloody fist hanging by his side—they screamed. While they yelled and pointed at Dean, he just stood there looking down at his fist.
A few of the servers rushed in, then backed away at the sight.
Dean tried explaining, “It’s not what it looks like…”
Another person, who looked to be one of the managers, came in from behind the servers. He was tall and burly, covered in tattoos, “Alright let’s go,” he said gruffly while grabbing onto Dean’s arms.
“W-wait…”
“Now.” This guy was not messing around.
Dean reluctantly stumbled forward as the guy tugged on his arm. As soon as they exited the hall to the bathrooms, he spotted Cas. He looked panicked, like he had some sort of suspicion that the commotion was caused by Dean. “Dean!” He called out and ran up looking absolutely livid that the burly guy was dragging him.
“Let him go,” Cas gritted.
“Look man, this guy just knocked another guy unconscious, he can’t stay.”
“What?”
Dean felt nauseous. So many people were watching him, and now Cas was looking at him with such intense disappointment.
“I can explain, Cas—”
“What’s going on?” Sam, who was briskly walking up to them, asked angrily.
“Sammy—”
Sam took a look behind Dean to see Brady lying against the wall with a possibly dislocated jaw.
“Did—did you do that?” He looked at Dean, pointing towards Brady.
“Yes, but—”
“Alright that’s enough,” the manager interjected, “We’re taking this outside.” He wasn’t gentle as he finished dragging Dean to the side exit of the restaurant, throwing him out.
“That was unnecessary,” Cas growled at him as he rushed to Dean’s side. The manager didn’t seem to care, getting out his phone to call the police, most likely.
“Dean what happened?” Cas’s eyes were filled with so much worry, “Are you hurt?”
“No.” He looked down at his bruised knuckles.
Sam didn’t say anything, he just stood there looking at his brother. Dean glanced at him, “Some friends you have there, Sammy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that your friends,” He pointed towards the door. “Got Dad fucking drunk!”
“Fuck…” Sam cursed under his breath.
“Yeah. Fuck.”
“Okay…” Sam looked at the ground, “So is that why you knocked him unconscious?”
Dean recoiled a bit, embarrassed to repeat the things that were said to him. “No…I did it because they…threatened me.”
“Threatened?”
“Just—said shit. Called me a slur. They were gonna swing sooner or later so I just took the first shot.”
“Oh my god, Dean…I don’t even know what to say…”
“Yeah, me either.”
“I’m gonna kill him—” Sam turned quickly back to the door.
“No, Sam.” Cas spoke up, “Police will be here soon. You should just talk with them rather than risk making matters worse.”
Sam was hesitant, but nodded, “Fuck, Dean…I’m so sorry…If I had known they were really like that…”
Dean rubbed his knuckles, “Well, you know now.”
“What about, Dad? He can’t go back to Jess’s parents house drunk.”
“I can take him somewhere to sleep it off,” Cas suggested.
“No.” Dean responded immediately, “He can’t stand you, you can’t stand him, it’s not a good idea.”
“Then what do we do?” Sam sighed.
Biting his lip in contemplation, Dean came up wtih a plan, “Where’s Bobby?”
“Uh, still inside I think.”
“Go get him.”
Sam nodded, grabbing the door handle.
“And Sam,” his brother turned his head around, “find Dad.”
As soon as the door shut, Cas turned to Dean, “What happened, Dean?”
“I told you. They said some shit and got what was comin’ to them, simple as that.”
Cas looked at him pensively, “Then why am I getting the feeling you’re not telling me something—”
“Jesus christ, Cas! Give it up.” Dean yelled, his hands shaking as he shouted the words.
Cas’s jaw clamped shut. He looked hurt by Dean’s outburst, which made a burning pain of guilt sear through Dean’s chest.
A moment later, Bobby came through the door, “Dean, what’s goin’ on?”
“Bobby, my Dad’s drunk somewhere inside, Sam’s getting him.”
“Balls–” Bobby cursed under his breath, “What about all that commotion going on in there? Did your Dad do that?”
Dean looked at the ground, “Um, no, that was me. But the guys I punched, they’re the ones who got Dad drunk in the first place.”
“What do you need me to do?”
Dean took a deep breath, “I know it’s a lot to ask Bobby, but would you be able to take him somewhere? I gotta stay and talk to the police, and we can’t have him going back to Jess’s parents house, I know it’s not ideal but—”
“Don’t worry, son. I’ll take care of it. I’m stayin’ at a hotel not far from here, I’ll just put him in a room beside mine.”
“Bobby, thank you…that means a lot.”
Bobby gave him a half-smile, “Don’t mention it.”
Dean returned the smile gratefully.
“Well, I guess I better help Sam find him,” Bobby sighed.
When Bobby went back inside, Cas grabbed his forearm, “Come on, Dean, let’s sit.”
They took a seat on the benches outside the restaurant, waiting for Sam to return. As they waited, two police cars pulled into the parking lot. When they got out of their vehicles, Dean felt sick. He ducked his head, resting it in his beat up hands. Beside him, he could feel Cas tense up, probably itching to comfort Dean somehow, but afraid to, after the anger Dean had shown him a moment ago.
After about 10 tortuous minutes, Bobby, Sam, and their stumbling father, came through the door. His dad wasn’t talking and he looked half-way close to passing out as he leaned on Bobby’s shoulders. Thankfully, Bobby’s truck was parked a few spaces away, so it wasn’t long before he was helping John climb into the passenger seat. Dean cringed at the sight. He’d already had a suspicion that his Dad was drinking again, but now, seeing the cold, hard proof…
Sam walked up to the bench, “So uh, Brady woke up a few minutes ago and I was able to talk to him. His jaw is bruised but I don’t think you broke anything.”
“Shame.”
Sam gave a half-nod, “He’s um, he’s not gonna press charges.”
That surprised Dean more than anything, “You’re kidding?”
“No. I was uh…pretty persuasive.”
Dean laughed in disbelief, shaking his head, “Look at you, you little lawyer.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, the police aren’t gonna question you, so you're free to go.”
Dean exhaled, “Sam…I’m sorry about your party, man—and Jess, I didn’t mean to ruin everything.”
“Nothing’s ruined, Dean. Everyone’s back to normal now, but even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t have wanted you to react any other way to those fucking assholes.”
“Yeah…”
Sam waited a moment, studying his brother, “What are y’all gonna do?”
Dean opened his mouth to speak when Cas interrupted, “If it’s alright, we will just go back to Jess’s house.”
“What?” “Okay.” Dean and Sam replied almost simultaneously.
“Bobby will take care of John—” Cas pointed out trying to get Dean on board with going home.
“That’s not his responsibility, Cas. I need to go help him, I can’t just leave—”
“What you need to do is bandage your hand and get some rest. I can go check on John after that if you so desire, but he will probably be passed out until the morning.”
Well, that was true. His Dad would sometimes sleep for 14 or 15 hours straight after really getting hammered. There probably wasn’t much to be done tonight.
Still, he was gonna owe Bobby big time.
“Fine…”
“Alright, I’ll go tell Jess everything,” Sam said softly, “Call me if you need anything.”
Dean nodded his response.
—
The car ride home was silent. Dean let Cas drive, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline—not to mention, scuffed badly at his knuckles. As the sound of the tires treading the pavement rumbled beneath them, Dean drifted back to the moment in the restaurant. He hasn’t been talked to like that in so long that he forgot how it made him feel.
Maybe that’s why he’s been so confident subbing with Cas—he hasn’t had the reminder of how humiliating it is that he enjoys what he enjoys.
Realistically, he knows he shouldn’t believe a word they said. They were obviously closested, and pathetically insecure men, it was just…he’s already thought about everything they said before they even said it.
He knows his…inclinations…towards certain things aren’t the most masculine thing ever, but he’s been trying to tell himself recently that it doesn’t matter. He’s no less of a man for being queer, or enjoying being with a more dominant partner, than any straight, macho dude.
Still, he couldn’t shake this feeling that was growing inside like a parasite, eating away at the logical part of his mind and replacing it with fear and disgust.
When they arrived back at the apartment, the silence persisted. It was still a bit light outside with the sun just beginning to set, but Dean was already ready to go to sleep. He decided to take the bracelet off and the plug out by himself in the bathroom, and then walked back into the bedroom to replace them back in Cas’s bag.
Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes. He turned his head when he heard the sound of Dean zipping up his bag, but he didn’t say anything about it.
Dean walked over to his side and sat down, not looking over when Cas got up and left the room.
He hoped Cas wouldn’t ask him about it anymore, the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about it.
Just as he was about to stick his legs under the covers, Cas came back holding a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton pads.
“Dean, your injuries need to be cleaned before you go to sleep.”
Dean groaned, “They aren’t injuries, Cas, I can barely feel ‘em.”
“Still,” Cas insisted.
Reluctantly, Dean sat back up. When he reached out to grab the bottle of alcohol from Cas’s hands, his friend recoiled.
“Let me.”
Although said as a command, his tone of voice sounded more like he was pleading with Dean.
Swallowing, Dean nodded.
With gentle hands, Cas grabbed his fingers and brought them close to him, exposing his knuckles. Then he poured some alcohol on the cotton pad, and gently pressed it to the scuff marks. Dean breathed a sharp inhale through his teeth, but tried not to react much besides that.
Cas made careful work of cleaning both hands, making sure there was no chance of infection. After setting the dirty cotton pad on the dresser, he reached into his pocket and got out a bandaid. Immediately, Dean jerked his hands back, “No way, I’m not wearing a freaking bandaid. I’m not five.”
“Dean, there is split skin on your left hand, it could get infected if you don’t cover it. Just wear it for tonight.”
Dean kept his hand clutched close to his chest, and Cas sighed, “You do realize I went to four years of medical school Dean, please just trust me.”
Too tired to continue fighting him on the matter, Dean stuck his hand out again, letting Cas apply the bandaid over the wound.
When he finished, his hands lingered on Dean’s, their fingers brushing together.
“Dean…” Cas began, but Dean couldn’t let him finish. He couldn’t talk about it and he couldn’t accept Cas’s pity.
He wrenched his hand away from Cas’s hold and got under the covers, turning over on his side. He heard his friend sigh and get up, heading for the door and clicking it softly shut as he left.
Dean felt like crying, but he couldn’t get the tears to come—which was probably for the best anyway, no need to cry over something so stupid.
He closed his eyes, accepting the cold numbness that settled over him.
Notes:
Can we take a moment to appreciate Sam and Dean both finding themselves partners with rich parents hehe, lil sugar babies.
Maybe one day Dean and Cas will stop trying to have important conversations right before bed, but unfortunately, it's not today. Sorry for the people who hate the miscommunication trope, I promise you that they are sooo close! And they definitely aren't gonna go back to the way things were, they just need some time, as always. ;)
Please leave a comment if you feel like it, your thoughts and comments are very inspirational! :3
Chapter 12
Summary:
- Switching POV's
- BDSM scene, smut
- TW's: (Spoilers) panic attack (of sorts), internalized homophobia, self-hating thoughts caused by a BDSM drop, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of past non-con, mentions of underage prostitution. (If I missed anything, please let me know!)
Notes:
I really enjoyed writing this chapter, hope you guys enjoy reading it!
Edit: I added a banner to chapter 1, if you want to check it out!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Cas's POV)
Cas didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, and he figured it had little to do with the short and uncomfortable couch he tried sleeping on.
After getting clear signals from Dean that he wanted to be left alone, Cas fully respected his decision by letting him have the room to himself. However, that left him with very few sleeping options except the one stiff loveseat in the small seating area by the steps. Since the floor didn’t look much better, he decided he had no choice but to try.
He tossed and turned, getting up occasionally for water and trying desperately to fight the urge to check on Dean.
He felt partially justified to check on him with the way they had been thrown out of a scene so abruptly and weren’t able to complete aftercare, but also, if Dean didn’t really want Cas to invade his space, he would respect that.
Cas had no clue what could make Dean feel this way. Maybe it was his father, but Dean had already been mourning John’s relapse, it’s not like he couldn’t see this coming, right?
Surely it had something to do with Brady and his friend. At the same time though, Dean had stood up to bullies before, including his own father. And if something his father—or anyone else—said, affected him, he had become a lot better at talking about it.
What made this time different?
What could Brady have possibly said—or god forbid—done to Dean, that would make him crawl back into the familiar shell of self-doubt and hatred that Dean had so often found himself in before he met Cas.
Castiel would get to the bottom of it eventually, he was sure. He just needed to give Dean time to process his own emotions and come to Cas when he was ready.
In the meantime, Cas would be here for whatever he needed. Even if it meant sleeping on a small, hard couch.
When he finally decided to give up on sleep, Cas got up to make some coffee, then took a seat at the little bar to drink it. It was around 7 am when he heard any sort of movement on the other side of the bedroom door, and by 7:15, Dean walked out with a pair of clothes waded up under his arm.
He stopped briefly when he saw Cas at the bar. As he stared at him, Cas couldn’t help but notice how dark and sunken in his eyes appeared. His whole expression was blank.
“Hey,” Dean said roughly.
“Good morning, Dean. How did you sleep?” Cas replied in a careful tone, not wanting to scare Dean but also needing to know how he was feeling.
As Cas suspected he would, Dean just shrugged and made his way to the bathroom on the other side of the small apartment.
Castiel sighed. He knew this was going to take a while, and that he had to be patient, but if Dean didn’t open up soon, he was only going to get worse if he let his mind dwell on whatever was bothering him.
It also wasn’t going to help that Dean had to see his father again today. He just hoped John wasn’t dumb enough to try and talk himself out of this one and would instead just own up to his bullshit.
Not that it mattered one way or the other.
—
Steam emanated from the bathroom when Dean finally opened the door. “It’s all yours,” he mumbled to Cas. Cas had taken a shower last night, so he could probably wait again till tonight when they stopped at a motel to take another.
“I’m alright, I can take one tonight.”
If Dean heard him, he didn’t care to respond.
“When are we leaving?” He inquired softly.
Dean still didn’t look at him, but he did stop in the doorway of the bedroom, “As soon as we’re packed. I gotta say bye to Sammy, then we’ll go pick up my Dad.”
“Did you talk to Bobby?”
“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat, “He had to leave for his flight, but he said John was sober and just waiting for us to come get him.”
“I see.”
Collecting the rest of their belongings was quick work, and by the time they loaded everything up in the car, it was 8 am. Sam and Jess looked tired, and once again, a bit hungover, when they came out to say goodbye.
“You sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?” Jess asked with a yawn.
“Nah, we gotta hit the road. I appreciate the offer though,” Dean smiled at her, but Cas could tell it was plastered on for her sake.
“It was really great to meet you,” She looked between Dean and Cas, “To meet both of you. I’m really glad Sam has you guys in his life.”
“I’m not sure he’s as glad about it,” Dean teased, but Sam just shook his head smiling.
“Alright, come here I guess,” the younger brother sighed dramatically as he went in for a hug. Their hug lasted a few seconds, but it was obvious neither wanted to let go, especially Dean.
When they were finished, Sam hugged Cas, “Thanks again for coming, I know I’ve said it a million times, but it really means a lot, man.”
“Of course, Sam. I’m glad I could make it.”
They parted and Sam stuck his hands back in his pockets, “We should get together again this summer,” he suggested.
Dean laughed, “Okay, but this time we’re meeting halfway at least. My ass can’t take much more driving for 12 hours two days in a row.”
“My parents actually have a lake cabin in Colorado that we visit in the summer. Not quite half-way but it’s closer to you guys anyway,” Jess proposed with enthusiasm.
“Huh. That sounds good to me.”
“You should both come, it would be fun!” She smiled wide.
“Might be difficult to get time off,” Cas looked at Dean.
His friend shrugged, “Maybe for you. I’m sure Bobby would understand.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Cas laughed.
“Well,” Jess waved her hand in dismissal, “It wouldn’t be until July anyway cause that’s when we usually go. So don’t stress too much about it right now.”
“Alright, sounds good,” Dean took one last look at his younger brother, “Well, I guess we’ll see you guys soon then.”
The group waved goodbye to each other, and the Impala’s doors creaked as Cas and Dean climbed inside.
—
Cas relished the few moments he had to sit in the passenger seat. It’s not that he minded sitting in the back, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight indignation at being forced to yield to John’s every petulant desire. He couldn’t wait to get home so he wouldn’t have to see or interact with the man anymore. At the same time, however, he was grateful that being on this trip certainly gave him perspective into what Dean deals with every week.
Knowing now the full extent of John’s toxicity has only made him feel more protective of Dean.
If only Dean would let himself be protected.
It took 20 minutes to reach the hotel that Bobby had booked him at. It was a lot nicer than the motels they’ve been staying in, certainly a lot nicer than what Dean’s father deserved. They pulled up to the front door, and Cas could spot John through the glass doors sitting hunched up in a lobby seat.
“Wait here, I’ll go get him.” Dean said while putting the Impala in park.
After Dean entered the lobby, Cas got out and made his way to the back seat.
— (Dean’s POV)
Dean bit his tongue almost to the point of bleeding as he walked up to where his Dad was sitting. There was so much he wanted to say—to scream—and maybe he would if it weren’t for the lack of privacy. But even then, Dean was just tired. He was tired of trying to fight with his Dad, trying to make him fight for himself, and he was sick and tired of being treated like shit for it.
He’d woken up this morning feeling—well, not really feeling anything. He was angry but he couldn’t muster the energy to express it, and he was disgusted at himself and even more enraged that it was all John’s fault that he felt this way. If he hadn't been such a self-indulgent, asshole, none of this would have happened.
But what can he really expect from the man anymore?
“Come on, let’s go,” Dean commanded gruffly, gesturing towards the door.
John looked up with an annoyed expression on his face, “Took you long enough,” he complained while rising to his feet.
It was a miracle that Dean didn’t round on John with a clenched fist—but he figured it probably wouldn't be a good idea to repeat yesterday’s little fiasco.
In order to not react violently towards John’s insouciant and obnoxious behavior, Dean decided to just ignore him as much as possible. Hell, he would be fine with going so far as to make John sit in the back seat the whole way home. Maybe he’d get lucky and Cas would still be occupying the passenger seat when he got back.
Of course, it was just his luck that Cas was sitting in the backseat when they walked out the lobby doors. He didn’t blame him though, his friend was just doing what he thought Dean wanted him to do.
As soon as they got in the car, Dean could feel tension thick and heavy between all of them. Obviously, Cas and his Dad were a given when it came to tension, but now with Dean’s anger towards his father, and whatever the hell was going on between him and Cas—this was going to be a long twelve hours.
And really, it’s his fault, all of it. If he wasn't so tied to his father he wouldn’t have brought him and none of this would have happened in the first place. He wouldn’t be falling apart at a few insults and he wouldn’t be hurting Cas in the whole process.
He just needs to get home and get back to his normal life, he’ll forget about everything, and then he should feel better.
— (Cas’s POV)
If Cas was concerned for Dean before, he was just outright worried now. The entirety of their twelve hour drive consisted of silence and barely five words spoken between any of them. When they stopped to eat, it was done so in silence, when they stopped at a motel, Dean quietly handed him a key, and walked with his father into their room.
That one really shocked Cas. At first he thought maybe Dean was just pretending to comply with John’s demand that he not sleep in the same room as Cas, but after staying up an additional two hours to listen for a knock at his door and nothing came, he realized Dean truly didn’t want to stay with him.
He knew he was probably just getting in his head about it, but he couldn’t help but feel that he’d done something wrong. That he’d pissed Dean off enough that he didn’t want to sleep in the same room as him.
But then again, hasn’t John pissed Dean off more times than he can count on this trip?
Whatever was making Dean feel this way, it was bad, that was for sure.
In fact, he didn’t realize how bad it was until the second day of their trip home, when Dean pulled into a gas station, filled up the car, and handed the keys to Cas.
“What are you doing?” Cas asked dumbly while holding the keys to the Impala in the palm of his hand.
“What does it look like? I’m lettin’ you drive.” Dean put the gas pump back in the slot and then turned around and moved past Cas, who was standing outside the car, to get in the back seat.
“But—” Cas tried to voice his concern about how sitting next to his father might cause tensions to rise, but was cut off but the backdoor slamming shut.
Cas swallowed and got in the driver's seat. John didn’t seem to care, or if he did, he didn’t have the energy to show it.
They had about 6 hours left, which Cas was fully prepared to drive the rest of, if that’s what Dean needed. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Dean was leaning his head against the glass, the dark circles around his eyes only seemed to be getting darker, and his chest moved slowly with shallow breaths.
He needed to get them home, everything would be better when they were home.
— (Dean’s POV)
Sleeping in a car had never been easy for Dean. He always preferred to drive, especially when he was younger. It gave him control, which let himself be free of worry when Sam would fall asleep next to him.
That’s how it should always be.
And Dean had tried to hold out, he really did, but his eyes just kept drooping shut, and he knew he was just putting his passengers in danger by trying to push through the rest of the way.
To his surprise, he was able to get a couple hours of sleep. And it was raining most of the way home, which helped.
Unfortunately, his relief from exhaustion didn’t last long. His dreams were filled with flashes of people grabbing him and holding him down, yelling words in his ear and telling him things he already knew were true. He even dreamt of Cas, watching it all with disappointment and disgust.
He woke up with a gasp.
Cas noticed his abrupt awakening, and looked at him with wide eyes through the mirror.
Dean avoided the eye contact and settled his head back against the windows. For the next hour he tried to go back to sleep, but his subconscious wouldn’t let him.
Finally, at the two hour mark from home, Dean told Cas to stop so he could drive again. He could tell his friend wanted to protest, but he was glad he kept his lips sealed because he did not feel like having an argument right now.
After they stopped at another convenient store and switched places, Dean put himself in full focus mode. The GPS said two hours but Dean knew he could probably shave it down to an hour and a half.
—
It was 7:30 by the time they were pulling into his Dad’s driveway, which was the best time they’ve made this whole trip. Once he put the car in park, he got out to help his Dad with his stuff.
They walked into the old house, and Dean could immediately feel a new kind of tension. Maybe it was because they were back home, or because Cas wasn’t around, but his Dad was carrying himself the same way he used to when he was about to defend a mistake.
Like when Missouri, their old babysitter, would chew him out for being a horrible father and he would stick his chest out and yell right back at her. He knew he was in the wrong, but instead of owning up to it, he would lash out like a cornered animal.
“Where do you want this?” Dean asked while standing inside the living room holding up a duffel bag.
“You can just set it on the couch,” John grunted.
Dean did as he asked and turned to leave, ready to just be done with this. Right as his hand grabbed the doorknob, he heard John scoff from across the room.
“So that’s it, huh? Not a single complaint?”
Dean clenched his jaw, and looked back at his father. “What are you talking about?”
“This whole time you haven’t said a damn word. Why?” There it was. The guilt masked with defense and anger.
“Why would I say anything?”
John shook his head, “You know the fuck why. I can feel you just itchin’ to bitch about it, so why don’t you just get it over with already!”
Fists balled tightly by his sides, Dean looked at his Dad with indifference, “What do you want me to say, Dad?”
John opened his mouth, but never responded.
“You want me to say I’m angry? That I’m mad at you for not giving two shits about yourself or anyone else? Is that what you want to hear?” He took a few steps closer to his father who was refusing to look at him anymore. “Of course I’m angry, John, but more than anything…”
He paused. His Dad looked up.
“More than anything I’m fucking tired.” Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to show any more emotion, refusing to waste any more tears on this man. “So if you want to throw away your life, then be my guest, because I’m not gonna try and stop you anymore, okay? I’m done.”
Since he didn’t care about listening to what John had to say to that, he swiftly turned around and exited the house, slamming the door.
The moisture that had begun welling up in his eyes was wiped away by his jacket sleeve. As he got back in the driver’s seat, he tried not to look at Cas, hoping he wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.
“Dean, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Of course.
Dean sighed, gripping onto the wheel and continuing to look forward, “Just uh…” he wet his lips, praying his voice wouldn’t break, “Just told my Dad that I don’t care if he drinks anymore. That I’m…not gonna try and stop him since he doesn’t care to help himself.”
A comforting hand found its way to Dean’s shoulder. Cas’s voice was higher than usual when he replied, “I’m proud of you, Dean.”
Funny, cause Dean didn’t feel very proud of himself, just…defeated.
“Yeah…” Dean exhaled and put the car in reverse.
—
Since Cas had taken an uber to his apartment before they left last Thursday, Dean had to drive him back to his house to drop him off. The whole way there Cas tried initiating conversation. He tried talking about Dean’s Dad, about work, about the trip—Dean just shot him down every time.
He couldn’t have casual conversation right now, not with the way his mind was running 90 miles per hour.
It’s been like this since Saturday night, and he just couldn’t get it to stop.
He knew deep down that whatever currently had a hold of him was only gonna get worse until he confronted it, but right now, he just wanted the noise to stop. Whether it stopped because of a few glasses of whiskey, or cause of Cas putting him in subspace, he didn’t really care. But he knew what he needed to ask when they got home.
Dusk had fallen when they pulled up to Cas’s house, and the automatic porch light turned on when Baby pulled close beside it. Cas looked confused when Dean unbuckled his seat belt, “I’ll help you with your stuff,” he explained.
“Thank you, Dean.”
Cas picked up his duffel bag, and Dean got his backpack. They walked up the few steps to his front door and stopped.
The air was warm, a bit humid from the rain they obviously had—it smelled fresh, a bit sweet even. The light from his porch illuminated them, but also harshened the shadows of their features, making Cas’s eyebrows, that were currently pinched up in worry, even more visible. But despite the horrible lighting, despite the pit sitting in his stomach and the exhaustion rotting his bones, he still couldn’t help but take in a steadying breath at the beauty of his best friend. Cas would never cease to amaze him, never cease to make him nervous and cause butterflies to flutter in his stomach.
God, he was so whipped.
Cas coughed and looked at Dean expectantly.
“Oh,” Dean murmured while looking at the backpack he was still holding. He handed it to Cas, who took it and hung it over his shoulder.
Dean knew it was time—time to ask, or chicken out. The problem was, he just couldn’t get the words out.
As he stared at Cas, any words he would say were swallowed up by the silence that surrounded them. The only thing that could be heard was the buzzing of insects and the thumping sound of his own blood rushing. Dean inhaled another shaky breath, staring at Cas with no doubt wide eyes.
Before he could stop himself, or really before he even knew what he was doing, his hands grabbed onto the fabric at Cas’s shoulders and dragged him into a deep and sudden kiss. Dean’s breath hitched, while Cas let out a surprised squeak.
Not knowing what came over him or how to stop it, Dean just kept pushing.
Literally.
He backed Cas up all the way to the edge of his porch until his friend's back was up against the railing and then he still pushed them as close together as they could. Cas had dropped both of his bags, and now had his hands wrapped around Dean. There was a bit of apprehension in his body language, but Dean could tell by the way he moaned into his mouth that he wanted this just as much as he did.
Which worked out well.
The ringing sound in Dean’s ears finally went away, all that was left was the panting noise of their mingled breaths and the creaking sound of the wooden rail being tested by their weight. It was exactly what he needed, just him and Cas.
His thoughts and feelings of ecstasy were interrupted when Cas suddenly backed away—or, practically wrenched himself away—and put his hands on Dean’s chest to stop him from pursuing him further.
“Dean—”
Dean shook his head, he wasn’t ready for this to end. Not yet
He moved Cas’s hands out of the way and dove in again, muffling the sounds of Castiel’s next protest.
Eventually, Cas’s grip became firmer and his resolve stronger as he pushed Dean away again.
“Dean, what are you doing?” His voice was raspy.
The fog of want and lust that had clouded Dean’s mind finally began to clear. He took one or two staggering steps away from Cas, his mouth still ajar and lips wet.
What the hell was he thinking?
Well, he knew what he was thinking—that he wanted Cas more than anything right now and that Cas wanted him, hence, they should kiss.
Except, this was exactly what Dean had told Cas not to do. He was the one who insisted they stick to boundaries and follow the rule that he should be wearing a collar if they initiated something like this.
“Shit—” Dean brought a palm up to his forehead, “Cas, I’m—”
Sensing his oncoming panic, Cas stepped closer to him, “No, Dean, it’s okay. I’m just—”
“No—no it’s not o-okay, I said we can’t…and I just…”
“Dean.” The same hands that had been pushing Dean away a few seconds ago were now cupping his jaw, and forcing him to look up. “It’s okay. I just…I’m worried that you’re doing this for the wrong reasons…”
“What?”
“Dean…you’re obviously upset about something, and I think you’re doing this to…feel better.”
Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong, he was just missing the little detail about Dean being in love with him.
“And if I am?”
Cas exhaled a deep breath, “I just don’t think this will fix anything.”
Dean looked away, his bottom lip sitting between his teeth.
“If you’d just talk to me…”
“No.” Dean immediately shot down the suggestion, then crossed his arms, “I wanna scene, Cas.”
Looking at him in disbelief, Cas shook his head, “Did you not hear what I just said?”
“Look, Man. I need this, I need to get outta my head.”
“But Dean, you’re vulnerable right now. Scening could make it significantly worse…”
The younger man’s jaw was set in firm determination, “If you’re not gonna help me, then there’s a bar about a mile down the road that will.”
Cas looked hurt by the suggestion, his countenance deflating, “That’s not fair.”
Dean shrugged, “Never said it was, but it’s your choice.”
Instead of responding, Cas bent over and collected his dropped bags, then slipped past Dean to open the door. For a split second, Dean thought Cas was choosing for him to leave, until he stopped in the open doorway, “Come on, Dean.”
Clearing his throat, Dean followed Cas inside.
— (Cas’s POV)
Frustrated, confused, and slightly turned on, Cas huffed all the way through his house. When he reached the living room, he called to Dean behind his back, “Wait here.”
As soon as the door to his bedroom shut behind him, he threw his bags on his bed and let out a deep sigh.
He wished Dean would just listen to him and believe how dangerous scening could be right now. But drinking was certainly more dangerous, so he wouldn’t run Dean out if he had the chance to keep him from going there.
He just had to be careful, and maybe he could convince Dean to just go home and rest—or stay here and rest.
After he finished getting into some fresh clothes, he made his way back to the living room. Whatever he’d been expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t Dean already kneeling, naked and collared, on his living room carpet.
Cas approached slowly, his eyebrows furrowing when Dean’s lower half came into view.
“Dean?”
His sub looked like he’d been awoken from a trance, he looked up.
“You’re missing your kneeling pillow.”
Dean glanced at the floor, then he looked forward to the couch, “I don’t want it.”
Cas raised a brow, “That’s non-negotiable, Dean. If you want to scene, then you need a kneeling pillow.”
Rolling his eyes in defiance, Dean rose to his feet and made his way down the hall to fetch the kneeling pillow. If this had been a normal scene, he’d be over Cas’s lap by now, but the seasoned Dom knew that punishment was not the way to go tonight.
When Dean returned, Cas was sitting on the couch in front of where Dean had been kneeling. The sub laid the pillow down in the same spot, and knelt in front of Cas.
“Look at me.”
Dean did.
“Dean, I’m giving you one last out to not do this. I’m warning you, I don’t think it will turn out well.”
Looking almost angry, Dean shook his head fiercely.
“Alright,” Cas seceded softly, “Then I need you to promise me that you can handle this.”
Anger morphed into pleading eyes, Dean nodded, “I want this.”
That wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but he supposed it would have to do.
“Okay, sweetheart. Do you have any particular requests?”
Dean chewed on his lip again, “No, Sir…Jus’ wanna go down…”
“I see. Then we can start out with something simple. I will turn the TV on, and you can kneel here for me. How does that sound?”
Dean looked a little conflicted, but dipped his head, “O-okay, Sir.”
Cas grabbed the remote, and sat back against the couch. After he turned on some random show, he gestured for Dean to come closer, until eventually he was right up against Castiel’s shins. With a gentle hand, Cas brought Dean’s head down on his thighs.
At first, Dean went willingly and even relaxed at the contact. But after a few minutes, Dean’s muscles tensed up.
Stopping the movements of his hand stroking Dean’s head, Cas asked softly, “What’s wrong, Dean?”
His sub sat up, “It’s just…s’not enough, Sir.”
Of course it wasn’t enough.
Cas thought for a few moments about how he could amp up the scene without doing anything too physically taxing.
“How about you hold me in your mouth while you kneel, hm?”
Dean tilted his head in consideration, then nodded, “Yes, Sir, I can do that.”
“Alright then, take me out slowly.”
Carefully, Dean slid his sweat pants down below his balls. He wasn’t exactly hard, but his size was still impressive, even without an erection. Dean wrapped his hands around the base of his shaft, then looked into Cas’s eyes.
“You may go ahead—'' Knowing how Dean usually was when it came to blowjobs, Cas added, “Do not try to get me hard, Dean. Just hold as much as you can in your mouth, and put your head back down on my leg. We’ll do this for 10 minutes, then see how you feel.”
“Yes, Sir,” Dean whispered as he followed Castiel’s instructions to a T.
His sub’s warm mouth enveloping him was a lot more intense than Cas had expected. I mean, he hadn’t had an orgasm in almost a week, so it’s not surprising, but he didn’t want to get off right now, he needed to be on high alert in case this went south.
Laying his head on the back of the couch, Cas intertwined his fingers in Dean’s hair.
Hopefully this will be enough to get Dean in subspace so that they won’t have to do anything else tonight.
— (Dean’s POV)
Focus focus focus.
This is supposed to feel good, it usually feels good…
Why doesn’t it feel good?
He thought about calling yellow, it’s probably what Cas would want him to do…But—it’s not like he was feeling bad…yet, it’s just that he didn’t feel good. He didn’t feel much of anything actually. The safe, fuzzy and warm feelings he had gotten whenever he drifted into subspace were all but gone. He just felt cold, distant, as if he wasn’t the one controlling his body, he was just a spirit floating detached outside of himself.
He could do this though, no sense in stopping now. It was only 10 minutes after all, Dean knew Cas was going easy on him compared to the lengths of time he typically gave his subs.
Dean could do this one fucking thing, and then he’d feel better.
He tried to shut everything out, to just take it and last until the time went out. But as time went on, the thoughts he’d been trying to avoid crept slowly into his mind, poisoning him.
He thought about the sneering comments, about the way the two men had talked about him, treated him as if he was nothing more than a piece of meat, and accused him of liking it. He had been so angry, so blinded with rage that they would suggest that, but…
He was just proving them right. He was letting himself get used exactly like that—a piece of meat.
Kneeling on the ground, a cock shoved in his mouth and a collar secured around his neck, just laying there, not providing pleasure, not receiving it, nothing more than an obedient sex toy waiting to be used.
That’s when the grief struck.
It hit him like a brick wall, he felt paralyzed. Tears started to form in his eyes, they dropped quietly onto Cas’s thigh. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.
A pain erupted in his chest, it seized his heart and climbed up his throat. It was suffocating. Breathe—breathe—he couldn’t breathe. What was he doing? Why was he here? He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe—
He felt helpless, disgusting, dirty, and worthless. Exactly the way the men saw him, they had seen it before him, but they were right.
Five minutes went by, the tears became more prevalent, as did the choking feeling surrounding the muscles in his throat.
He panicked, he had to get out, had to, had to.
He lunged back, Cas’s dick sliding out of his mouth and Dean landing on his ass all in one motion. He scrambled back up to the entertainment center that the TV sat on. Immediately, his hands flew up to his hair, pulling on it, trying to make himself feel something, to show himself he was alive.
Cas was as quick as lightning. Within a second of Dean’s fall backwards, he was at his side, his hands gently, yet cautiously, holding onto the sides of Dean’s arms.
“Dean, I’m calling red. I need you to look at me.”
He’s calling red? He’s safe wording? Dean made him safe word? What kind of sub makes their Dom safe word? How fucking useless is he?
The tears were streaming down his face nonstop, choking sobs hiccuped through his chest. He looked up at his Dom.
“I’m s-so—sorry. I—I—I can do it. Wait—it’s…please, please. I’ll b-be better—I’ll—”
Another sob.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Dean. You’re alright, I’m here. Don’t worry about the scene, don’t worry about anything.”
How couldn’t he?
His breaths became more rapid, he still felt like his airway was blocked.
“Dean, I need you to breathe. Just breathe—”
Dean shook his head as the bitter tears stung his eyes, he squeezed them shut, “Can’t—”
“Yes, you can. With me, Dean, breathe with me—”
After a few more silent protests, Dean finally listened to the voice of his Dom, chasing it like a light in the dark. His hands clutched onto Cas’s shirt, he opened his eyes when he felt the slow rise and fall of Cas’s chest.
“That’s it,” Cas continued his deep breaths, beckoning Dean to do the same.
He still felt like he was dying, but he trusted Cas more than anything, so he did as he was instructed, taking deep breaths in through his nose, and out through his mouth. Cas praised him through it all, whispering over and over how good he was being for following instructions.
Once Dean finally felt like he could breathe again, and wasn’t on the verge of imminent death, Castiel pulled him into a tight hug, then switched their positions so that his back was against the shelf and Dean was straddling his lap.
“That’s it, you’re okay, Dean. Keep breathing for me,” Cas cooed softly and brought a palm to the back of Dean’s head, bringing it to rest on his shoulder.
A part of Dean was still screaming at him how pathetic he was for needing Cas to comfort him like this. That it was so stupid he was breaking down over something he’s been doing for the past couple of months, and enjoying. And when he thought about that fact, it only made him feel worse, of course.
He was torn in half between wanting Cas’s comfort and also wanting to tear himself away because it was wrong that he should want this. Need this.
The tears of panic slowly turned into tears of self-hatred and anguish. His whole body shook with it, his throat turning raw from the piteous cries.
After some passage of time—he didn’t know how long—Dean could feel moisture gathering on the back of his neck, telling him that Cas was crying too.
Dean sat back, his eyes so bloodshot and nose stuffy, “Cas…”
He could handle himself breaking down, hell, he was used to it—but Cas? He couldn’t have Cas cry over him, cry for him.
Dean cupped his friends face, his own tear tracks partially dried down his cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Cas whispered and put his own hands over Dean’s, “Let’s go to my room, okay?”
The last thing Dean wanted to do right now was walk, but Cas was probably right, and he was already losing feeling in his legs from their awkward position.
They stood up on shaky limbs, Cas holding Dean’s hand and leading him to his bedroom. Before they climbed in the bed together, Cas offered Dean a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, which he took gratefully.
The bed was so soft compared to what they’ve been sleeping on at the motels, and it wasn’t long before Dean realized he was nearing unconsciousness. He had driven for 10 hours today, and now his body was drained from the cry he just had.
However, even with his sleep-addled mind, he was still worried about crossing a boundary by staying the night. He looked up from where his head had been laying on Cas’s chest, “Do you want me to—”
“You’re staying, Dean,” Cas said with his eyes closed, obviously half-asleep himself.
Deciding he wasn’t gonna argue with that, Dean closed his eyes.
—
The first thing Dean registered was how warm he was. The sun poured into the room, making the queen-sized comforter heat up like an oven. Not only that, but also the mixing of body heats from limbs entangled and breaths mingled caused Dean to throw the covers off of him. His eyes blinked open.
His heart dropped to his stomach when he realized whose body heat he’d been sharing.
Maybe he’d gotten so used to waking up in Cas’s bed in his dreams, that he couldn’t believe it was real at first.
But there he was. His best friend, with his dark hair sticking up in every direction, his serious facial expression and mouth slightly ajar with little snores coming out. Dean could get used to this, even with the heat.
Since the room was slightly cool, however, it didn’t take long for Dean to be ready to move under the covers again, and without trying to overthink it anymore, Dean snuggled right back up to Cas’s side. He intertwined their legs again, and snuck an arm underneath Cas’s, then finally buried his face in Castiel’s neck.
He didn’t think about checking the time, he didn’t care. Neither of them had work today so it was fine if they slept in.
Not to mention, if he threw himself back into reality right now, he would definitely have another breakdown. The only thing keeping him from running away in the first place, was that he felt so safe, so loved, and he didn’t want to leave that feeling.
An hour passed, maybe more, and now Dean was practically on top of Cas. It wasn’t like him to be so cuddly, but maybe it was his subconscious brain wanting to soak up every moment he got to have Cas like this, wanting to keep him for his own and never let him go.
When he woke up the second time, it was because of a movement underneath him. He gasped as Cas’s arms wrapped snuggly around Dean’s torso, then rolled them over so that they were both on their sides with Cas still holding him in a bear hug. His legs remained around Cas’s and so did his chin in the crook of his friend’s neck.
Dean snorted, thinking maybe Cas wasn’t aware he was doing this, but then Cas hummed and started nosing at the side of Dean’s face, placing feather-light kisses there. A satisfied sigh left his chest, he’s never been this content in his whole life.
Which was probably a bad thing—the whole, ‘high before the fall,’ kinda thing.
After a few minutes of embracing one another, Cas finally loosened his grip. Dean leaned back so he could look into his eyes. They were so blue, even more beautiful than in his dreams.
“Goodmorning, Dean,” Cas whispered roughly.
Dean’s hands traced Cas’s jaw, “Hi.”
“How do you feel?”
He thought for a few moments, not wanting to lie. “Better,” he said genuinely.
Cas’s shoulders slumped in relief, “That’s good, I’m glad.”
“Yeah…” Dean trailed off.
Except better meant that he didn’t need this anymore—or, shouldn’t need it anymore.
“How about some breakfast—”
Stomach already growling, Dean nodded vehemently.
“—And then we can talk about last night.”
Oh…
“Um…do we have to? I mean, I’m feeling better anyway, so—”
“Dean, you only feel better because you’re ignoring what happened. As part of your aftercare, we need to talk about it a little bit at least.”
Aftercare?
Dean’s fingers went up to his neck, feeling the collar that he’d worn overnight.
Right, they’re still scening.
“I won’t force you to talk about everything, Dean. But we have to debrief a little.”
Dean nodded, “Yeah, okay…”
“And we can do it over french toast, how does that sound?”
“Dude, do you even know how to make french toast?”
Cas shrugged, “Can’t be much harder than pancakes.”
“Yeah, and you can barely make those.”
“Hey!” Cas exclaimed in a playfully aggrieved tone, “You said you loved my pancakes.”
Dean half-smiled at his friend, “That…might’ve been a lie…”
“You little…” Cas rolled them all the way over, and although Dean reacted fast, he wasn’t quite fast enough. With one hand, Cas pinned his wrists above his head, and used the other to tickle Dean’s side.
“Hey!—” Dean struggled to get free of his friend's grasp, twisting and kicking his knees up.
Cas stopped for just a second, “Say my pancakes are good.”
“My pancakes are good,” Dean deadpanned, and then immediately regretted it as Cas doubled his efforts to torture him.
Oh no, they were not doing this shit again.
A surge of adrenaline shot through Dean’s body. He pushed his wrists off the bed and then propelled his weight forward until Cas was the one on his back with his hands over his head. Cas gasped, obviously surprised at Dean’s strength.
He smirked down at him, “Your pancakes suck.”
Instead of some sort of clapback, Dean was just met with heavy breathing and wide eyes. He guessed it really shouldn’t shock him that Cas was reacting this way since he wasn’t usually on this end of these kinds of play fights. Something told Dean that he didn’t mind though.
At least this time.
Before he could decide to do something rash, like kiss him or reach for the growing erection he could feel pressed against his ass, Dean let go of his wrists and rolled off.
“But don’t worry,” he patted Cas’s thigh, “I’ll make you some.”
Still blushing, Cas swallowed and dipped his head in agreement.
—
Turns out they didn’t have the stuff they needed to make french toast since Cas had been gone all week, but there was a little pancake mix left, so Dean cooked a few for each of them, tossing in some frozen blueberries Cas had in his freezer.
They decided to eat their breakfast on the couch—after some convincing from Dean—so that they could watch Doctor Sexy while they ate.
“I still don’t understand the appeal of this show…” Cas commented around a bite of food.
Dean would’ve stared at him with his jaw open if his mouth wasn’t full, “Are you kidding? It’s literally just a bunch of hot doctors having sex, how is that not appealing?”
Cas raised his shoulders in indifference, “Maybe it’s not as entertaining when it’s your actual life.”
Dean set down his fork, “You got any hot doctors your crushin’ on at work?”
His friend raised a finger to signal he was still chewing, when he finished swallowing he looked up contemplatively, “Hmm, not really. Although…there is this one guy.”
“Yeah?” Dean asked partially in jest, and partially in legitimate worry.
“He’s in the medical field, not a doctor though.”
“A nurse?”
“No. He’s an EMT.”
“Oh?”
“Yep. But he has a weird obsession with bad TV shows and he makes sexual noises when he chews his food, so I’m not sure if it would work—”
The soft thump of a pillow being thrown at his face interrupted his next words. Dean didn’t look to see his reaction, he just smirked and looked forward.
“Be glad I don’t want syrup all over my couch,” Cas grumbled while putting the pillow back in its place instead of throwing it at Dean.
Dean chuckled and turned the volume up on the TV.
—
At the end of the second episode, Dean could tell Cas was ready to talk. He was dreading it, but he also knew he didn’t have a choice. With a sigh, he turned the TV off and sat back on the couch, turned side-ways so he could face Cas better.
“Dean, I’m going to preface this by saying we won’t talk about anything you're uncomfortable talking about. So only tell me what you can handle talking about, okay?”
Dean nodded, then whispered, “Okay, Cas.”
Cas folded his hands in his lap and waited for Dean to speak.
“I guess I…I just haven’t been doing great…mentally…since Saturday night.”
His friend dipped his head in agreement.
“The fight I had, it—it kinda messed with me.”
“How so?” Cas’s voice dripped with worry.
“The um…the two guys that I punched…” He could see Cas tense up out of the corner of his vision. “They didn’t just…insult me.”
Cas’s back rose off of the couch, anger beginning to simmer behind his eyes.
“They didn’t do anything—well, I mean, they didn’t get the chance to because I knocked em’ on their asses. But they…they wanted to. They threatened to.”
“Dean—”
“And I know it sounds awful, but I’ve had that shit said to me before. I’m used to it, so really, that’s not what fucked me up. It was everything they said…beforehand.” Dean inhaled, “They saw you come out of the bathroom before me, so when they approached me, of course they accused us of being boyfriends and called me a slur. But then…”
Dean squeezed his fists shut, trying to stop the trembling, “They uh…they—”
“Dean…You don’t have to tell me.”
Dean shook his head and swallowed, trying to make the lump in his throat go away, “What they said…reminded me of the way I was talked to…and treated sometimes…growing up.”
That seemed to stun Cas, he tilted his head while looking at Dean.
He’s never told anyone about what happened to him—or what he did to himself, really. It’s not like he regrets it, he did what he had to. He stepped up when his father wouldn’t.
And maybe there were better ways, but nobody wanted to take a 15 year old seriously when it came to jobs that make decent money or even just hustling pool. Not to mention, his father would be furious if he didn’t go to school every now and then.
He needed something fast and profitable, and there was always someone that was willing to pay.
After a while, he even got used to it—the physical act, it didn’t bother him anymore. Whenever he let it happen, he’d just flip a switch, make himself numb.
The first time it really got to him, affected him to the point of almost quitting, was when someone actually made him feel good. It didn’t matter that he hated every second of it, that he was eons away from being horny, his body betrayed him.
But it wasn’t just that, it was the way the men who made him come would sneer and mock him and whisper words with their alcohol-stenched breath.
“Knew you fucking loved it, little whore.”
“That’s it, slut—fuck!”
“Love being my little toy, huh?”
If his clients said shit like that on days he didn’t feel anything, the comments would roll off his back. They were all lies anyway, fulfilling their disgusting fantasies.
But when they were successful in getting a reaction out of his body, it didn’t feel like their words were lies anymore.
If Dean could really get off on being used for money, then something had to be wrong with him, right?
After those times, he’d go find a bar to sneak in and drink himself to the point of forgetting. Although, it never really worked, and he’d just end up throwing up outside the motel room he came stumbling back to. Disgusted with himself, ashamed, and afraid. Afraid that they were right, and that he was really just made to be used like this.
How couldn’t it be true?
That’s the main reason it took him so long to come to terms with his sexuality. The first time he was with a guy in his early 20’s, a few years after he stopped selling himself, he’d had the biggest panic attack of his life.
The guy was really sweet, even tried to relate to him and tell him that he knew what it was like to be scared of your sexuality.
But he didn’t know a thing about what Dean was feeling, the shit going through his head.
Thankfully, he eventually got over it. And he hasn’t struggled with those kinds of thoughts in a long time, even while entering this dynamic with Cas—which was surprising. It was probably just that calm before the storm though. He should’ve known it would come eventually.
He inhaled another uneven breath and opened his mouth to speak, his throat constricting again.
“I—I haven’t… I haven’t told anyone this before. I mean, maybe Sammy knew…or Dad, I don’t know. But I-I’ve never said anything out loud…”
Cas scooted closer to Dean on the couch, hesitantly putting a hand on his leg. Dean was grateful for it.
“My Dad, I told you how he would leave for weeks at a time, right?”
His friend nodded.
“And sometimes…we’d—we’d—run out of money before Dad would come back…a-and I tried stealing food, I tried tricks my Dad taught me, or even working at grocery stores…but somehow we always came up short…”
Realization began to dawn on Cas’s face as he pieced together what Dean was trying to tell him.
“I knew I had to do something to keep us from being put out on the street…so I—I—“
“Dean…”
Dean looked up at his best friend, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t want to, Cas. And I know—I know…I shouldn’t have…but Sammy…”
With strong arms, Cas brought Dean to his chest for the second time this morning. “I know, Dean. I know.”
He let the floodgates open, crying in Cas’s embrace once again. Cas held him tightly through it all, kissing the top of his head and rocking him on the couch.
“Cas—“ he gasped, tears wetting Cas’s t-shirt.
“It’s okay, Dean.”
He shook his head fiercely, “I—I can’t get their words out of m-my head, man…there—feels like—“ a sob, “Like there’s something wrong with me…”
“No.” Cas shook his head, clutching Dean tightly, “There is nothing wrong with you, Dean. I know it may feel like that right now, but it’s not true.”
“B-But—“
“What those evil men said to you, as a child, or now, was nothing but disgusting lies. You were abused Dean, and whatever you went through, whatever you experienced, it wasn’t your fault.”
Dean sniffled, vision still blurry from his tears. There were a few more minutes of partial-silence as Dean continued to cry quietly, his chest heaving with rattled breaths.
He could tell Cas was getting more worried as time went on.
“I’m so sorry you went through this, Dean.”
“S’not your fault…” Dean whispered.
“But thank you for telling me, I know it’s hard for you to open up about this.”
Dean’s brows furrowed, he looked up frantically, “You can’t tell Sammy, please, about any of it.”
Cas nodded apprehensively, “I won’t, Dean. But I don’t think keeping it from Sam will help.”
“I just—“ he sighed, “I can’t tell him.”
“I understand. You certainly need to heal from it yourself first, you have time.”
Dean made a confirming noise in his throat, and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he’ll ever really heal from this…but maybe Cas was right. There was a lot that Sam didn’t know—a lot that he deserved to know. Maybe he’ll tell him eventually, but right now he just wanted to stop thinking about it.
“Cas…?” Dean murmured into Cas’s tear-stained shirt.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
His heart fluttered at the endearment, “I’m sorry about last night…”
Pushing Dean away just enough to look in his eyes, Cas shook his head, “No, Dean, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything I should apologize for letting us scene in the first place,” the older man looked down in shame, “I knew it wasn’t a good idea and I let us do it anyway…”
“Cas,” He pulled on the fabric of his friend’s shirt, getting his attention, “Don’t, okay? You warned me, gave me plenty of chances…and I gave you a really shitty ultimatum.”
“Still…”
“Not ‘still,’ what I did was wrong, so please just let me apologize for it.”
Cas was silent for a few seconds, his expression ruminative, “You truly don’t have to apologize Dean, but if it will make you feel better to hear me say it, I forgive you.”
“Thank you.”
Dean cleared his throat, rearranging himself on the couch so that he was snuggled next to his side, his arm wrapped around Cas’s and hands clasped together.
“You realize that was a drop, right Dean?” Cas asked gently.
Dean’s eyes cast downward, “Yeah, I guess I figured it was…”
“Those feelings you had—that what you enjoy is wrong or bad somehow—that was the drop speaking. Well, amplifying it at least.”
“I-I know.”
“Even if you understand from a logical standpoint, it’s sometimes difficult to change the feelings you have that go deeper than just a mental understanding. It could take a while for those feelings to go away or be amended, but the more you recognize them as side effects of your drop, the more you can overcome them.”
“Yeah…as much as I hate to admit it,” Dean sighed, “I think talking helped a lot.”
“It certainly does. If you ever feel overwhelmed by those same thoughts, please don’t hesitate to come to me. Talking about it will help you process those feelings more.”
“I will, Cas.”
After his words, a contemplative pause followed.
“So I guess this means we shouldn’t scene anymore today then, huh?” Dean turned his head up, cheeks reddening bashfully.
Cas looked surprised by the suggestion framed as a question, “We can do whatever you're up for, Dean. Obviously we don’t want a repeat of last night, but I also know we haven’t gotten to properly finish a scene in a while.”
“Yeah,” Dean shrugged nonchalantly, “I mean, I feel a lot better, no oncoming freakouts or anything.”
“Are you saying you’d like to scene, Dean?” Cas chuckled.
“If I am, would you say yes?”
Thinking for a few moments, Cas squeezed Dean’s hand, “I think I have an idea.”
—
When Cas said he had an idea for a scene, he wasn’t expecting it to be straight up torture.
Okay, so it wasn’t torture torture, but this was damn close in Dean’s opinion.
He was currently on his back on the bed with his wrists secured in the leather cuffs attached to the headboard, and the same done with his ankles at the end of the bed. Meanwhile, Cas was straddling his thighs, making a feast out of Dean’s neck.
Sounded great, right?
Wrong.
Cas refused to kiss or touch anywhere lower than his face and neck until Dean followed a simple instruction: Repeat every praise Cas gave him.
Except, it wasn’t that simple. It was bad enough just having to accept praise sometimes, but repeating it? With his own mouth? Absolutely not.
Cas had said something about this exercise helping him finish coming out of his drop, and that it would aide in making his subconscious brain more self-compassionate or whatever the fuck.
One thing was for sure though, he was not doin’ it.
“Dean…” Cas moaned his name and licked another stripe from his jaw up to his earlobe, tugging on the skin there. “Just say it sweet boy, come on. I know you can.”
Clenching his teeth, Dean stubbornly held his breath.
“You’re beautiful, Dean. Tell me.”
“Sir…” Dean groaned, writhing in his restraints.
His Dom continued to bite and suck at the vein on the side of his neck.
He just had to out last him, eventually Cas would want to move on.
As soon as the thought entered his head, Cas spoke up as if he had read his mind, “If you’re thinking that you can win this little game…” he accentuated his words by grinding back on Dean’s dick, “Then you’re mistaken, sweetheart. I have no problem staying here all afternoon, covering you with my marks.” He gave a particularly hard suck on his neck.
“I-I–” Dean whimpered.
No, he can’t do it, he just can’t.
Feelings of worry and uneasiness began to settle in his stomach. He didn’t want to disappoint Cas…but he couldn’t bring himself to obey the command.
He should just be responsible and tell Cas how he feels, “Sir, I—Yellow….”
Cas sat up, a trail of spit hanging from his bottom lip, “Are you okay, Dean? Is something wrong?” He asked in a panic.
Dean immediately shook his head, “N-no, Sir. I just…I don’t think I’m ready for this, and I don’t want you to think I’m a brat or something…or that I don’t wanna be good…I just—”
“That’s okay, Dean. Thank you for speaking up and being honest with me,” His Dom leaned forward, placing a soft and reassuring kiss on his lips. “How about this, instead of repeating the praises, you can just affirm them, does that sound like something you can do?”
“Um…” Dean thought for a few seconds, “C-can you give me an example?”
“Of course, sweet boy. If I asked you, ‘are you beautiful?’ then you would respond with ‘yes, Sir.’”
“Oh. Yeah, I might be able to do that.”
“Alright, we’ll start out with simple questions, okay? And as we go further, the questions might get more difficult. You may call yellow—or red, obviously—at any time.”
Dean nodded and took a deep breath.
Cas focused his attention back on Dean’s face, kissing him sensually on the mouth, then dragging his lips across his cheekbones, “Are you mine, Dean?”
That was definitely an easy one.
“Yes, Sir,” Dean breathed out.
“Good,” Cas praised, then started trailing his kisses back down to Dean’s already abused neck.
“Are you good, Dean?”
Okay, that one might be a little harder.
Obviously Dean knew what Cas thought, he’d just told him for christ’s sake. But saying honestly that he believed that about himself? That was a different story. Maybe he felt like he was good on some level, but then again, he’s screwed up so many times. Not just as a sub, but as a person, a friend. It didn’t feel right to say he was good…
But as Cas continued to kiss and suck on every sensitive spot above his collarbone, it drove Dean crazy.
Saying it doesn’t mean he has to believe it, right?
“Yes, Sir—” He gritted out.
Cas tsked at him, then wrapped a hand around his neck—not too tight, but with enough grip to get Dean’s attention. “Like you mean it, Dean.”
Dean groaned, half-frustrated, and half-turned-on out of his mind, “Yes, Sir,” he said more confidently.
“Excellent,” Cas said with enthusiasm as he made his way down to Dean’s chest. He didn’t ask a question for a few minutes, deciding to just torture Dean by playing with his nipples. Using the front of his teeth, he pulled on each one then circled them with his tongue. Dean arched off the bed, gasping each time Cas tugged on the sensitive buds.
His dick that had been at half-mast this entire time was now throbbing and leaking precum onto Cas’s ass that was still covered by his boxers.
After five minutes of Cas playing with his nipples, Dean was getting worried he might actually come from the sensation of that, combined with the friction of Cas rubbing up against him. His Dom also hadn’t put anything on his cock to keep him from coming.
Just as he was about to tell Cas he was close as fuck, Cas finally asked him, “Are you beautiful?”
Mind going insane with lust, he didn’t hesitate to answer, “Yes, Sir! Please…”
“Yes you are, my good boy.”
If Dean thought having his chest and nipples worshiped by Cas’s tongue was enough to send him over the edge, he was not prepared for the way his mouth felt on his lower abdomen. There was something about the sensitive skin just above his groin that made Dean keen and writhe, Cas’s body weight holding his legs down through it all.
“F-Fuck…Sir…”
“Oh, Dean…You’re so hard for me, aren’t you?”
Gasping, Dean nodded fiercely.
Cas put a hand around his dick and teased his mouth over it with light kisses and licks.
“Do you want my mouth, Dean?”
“P-please! God—please, Sir…”
“Then I need you to answer one last question, okay?”
“Anything!” The sub croaked.
Cas’s breath was hot on the tip of his dick, he squeezed the base, making Dean groan and throw his head back.
“Are you worthy of love, Dean?”
Well that was not what he was expecting.
It was probably the only question Cas could have asked that Dean would hesitate to answer.
He whimpered, closing his eyes and trying to will the words to come. After several moments of silence, Cas asked again, “Are you worthy of love, Dean?” His voice was softer this time.
Should he call yellow?
Dean squeezed his eyes even tighter, hands balled tightly into fists.
If Cas thinks so, then it has to be true, right?
He opened his mouth, the breath caught in his throat prohibited from saying anything.
“Dean, look at me.”
Taking in a deep breath, Dean peeled his eyelids open and stared up at Cas. The second their eyes locked together, Dean felt his heart begin to swell. The look on Cas’s face wasn’t just the look of a Dom encouraging his sub, what Dean saw in his eyes was pure, unfiltered, unconditional love.
He swallowed thickly.
“Dean, are you worthy of love?”
“Yes, Sir.” He replied, almost forgetting entirely about his arousal, simply wanting to kiss Cas.
And Cas was on a roll with reading his mind today, because he did exactly that.
This kiss was much deeper, more meaningful, than the kisses they’ve shared so far during this scene. It was a little bit like the kiss Dean gave Cas on the porch last night.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Cas whispered against his lips, then quickly returned to his place between Dean’s legs. “Do you still want my mouth, sweet boy?”
Arousal surged back into his veins, “Y-yes, please! Please, Sir…”
Without further hesitation, Cas swallowed Dean down almost to the root. Dean wasn’t as big as Cas was but, he still had an impressive length, so the fact that Cas so easily slid his dick down his throat would never not be impressive.
Skillfully, his Dom worked Dean to a quivering mess. With every lick and suck Dean moaned louder and louder. His dick was so hard he was afraid it would shatter if Cas was too rough with it.
“God—need…fuck…”
Cas sucked upward until only the tip was left between his lips, he circled his tongue around it, then smirked at Dean, “Are you close, baby?”
Dean mewled into the side of his arm, looking down at Cas between his legs. Fuck, that was such a beautiful sight.
He nodded, then sucked a sharp breath through his teeth as Cas began jerking him in time with his sucking. “Please—f-fuck…Sir…may I come?”
Cas let go of his dick with an obscenely wet popping sound. “No Dean, not yet. I need you hard for what we’re gonna do next.”
Dean tried to ignore his disappointment, and instead, tilted his head in curiosity.
His Dom continued his ministrations for a few more minutes before releasing Dean and hopping off the bed. Groaning at the loss, Dean lifted his head, trying to see where Cas was going. His eyes widened when he saw his Dom grab a bottle of lube from the side table.
Oh, fuck yes.
Dean’s breathing quickened in excitement—it’s been so long since he’s been fucked. Instinctively, he tried to spread his legs, then stopped when he realized that his ankles were still cuffed to the posts at the end.
How was Cas gonna fuck him in this position?
His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the feeling of cold lube being dribbled on his dick. His jaw dropped open on a gasp as Cas’s hand wrapped around it again, jerking slowly and spreading the lube.
“Sir—” He choked out. “M-my legs…” He struggled against the restraints, trying to show Cas that he had to take them off if he was gonna fuck him.
“Oh, you’re not getting fucked today,” Cas purred against his shaft, his lips turning up in a wicked smirk.
Confused and slightly disappointed, Dean protested, “but–”
“I am.”
Dean stared at Cas with wide eyes, his breath stalling, “W-what?”
“Would you like that, Dean? Would you like me to ride you?” He asked while continuing to stroke Dean’s dick.
God yes, he would love that.
It’s not like he hasn’t been fantasizing about it ever since they started this relationship.
Except…after everything Cas told him…about Bartholomew and the horrible experiences he’s had—Dean had banished it from his mind. He would never ever make Cas go through something that would remind him of that trauma.
“But you…” Dean trailed off.
Cas let go of his dick and looked at him, waiting for him to finish.
“You want to? I thought…after everything…y’know…that you wouldn’t want to do that.”
“You mean Bartholomew?”
Dean nodded.
“Oh, no—I mean, I don’t mind bottoming Dean,” he said in a short laugh, “It’s subbing that I would have an issue with trying again.”
“Oh.” Dean shifted his hips, his dick growing impossibly harder at the thought of being inside Cas, “Then…yeah...I’d like that, Sir.”
“Perfect.”
It didn’t take Cas long to prepare himself, but it was still torturous to watch without being able to help him. Especially since Cas couldn’t turn off his dirty fucking mouth.
“Can’t wait to feel you Dean—fuck, you’re gonna feel so big.”
“Sir…” He whimpered brokenly.
“And I’m gonna be so tight for you…” Cas breathed deeply, one hand splayed on Dean’s chest and the other behind him to finger himself. “Don’t do this for just anyone, Dean.”
Was Cas trying to kill him?
“But you’re such a good boy for me, Dean, so I’m gonna make you feel good now, okay?”
“Please—”
“Shh, I know…” Cas whispered while getting in position over Dean’s dick.
His descent was deliciously slow. Dean savored every moment—from the second the tip of his dick pushed past the tight ring of muscle to when Cas’s hips were almost connected with his.
“Dean—shit…” He hadn’t heard Cas moan like that in…well, maybe the entire time they’ve been doing this.
Dean’s head fell back on the bed, his nails digging into his palms. “God…you feel s’good…amazing…”
Cas stilled in his lap then leaned forward to capture Dean’s lips in a savored kiss. “You too,” he replied on an exhale.
He almost wished Cas had made him wear a cock ring because goddamn when he started moving his hips, Dean could tell that this was not going to last long.
The drag of his cock inside Cas’s body was excruciating in the best way. Eventually, his rhythm began to pick up, moving his ups up and down, swiveling them and clenching around Dean enticingly. After a minute of Cas riding on him like he was made for it, his Dom finally put a hand around his own dick and began stroking it in time with his movements.
Instantly Dean felt the urge to touch him, wishing that it was his hand jerking Cas off instead.
He groaned, still panting from arousal. “Ca—S-Sir…please…need—fuck—”
“Wha—god—do you need…sweet, boy?”
“Touch!” Dean shouted, pulling his arms at the cuffs. “Wanna touch you…I’m begging…lemme touch you…”
Cas stalled, looking at Dean with complete, unadulterated lust. “Fuck, okay…yes…” He quickly undid the leather cuffs and Dean’s hands flew to his hips, gripping there the same way Cas usually did with him. Using the leverage of his hands and hips, Dean began bucking up into Cas, fueled with the need to make Cas feel as good as he always made Dean feel.
“D-Dean…uhn…” Cas threw his head back, exposing his neck.
Without even thinking, Dean sat upwards and started kissing the open skin, giving him his own marks.
“Fuck! Feels amazing…you…Dean—shit…” Dean was sure he’d never heard Cas this broken open until now.
A hand came to the back of Dean’s head, guiding his face in the space between Cas’s neck and shoulder. They moved together harmoniously, thrust after thrust. It felt like Cas was trying to get Dean as deep as possible and it made Dean’s vision blurry. Not that he needed to see anyway.
“Close—Sir…’m close…” he whimpered.
“No.” Although it was probably meant to sound like command, it came out as a ragged plea. “Hold it…Dean…right…there. Fuck, yes—Come with me—”
“Yes, Sir…yes…yes…”
A handful of thrusts and grinds later and both of them were coming almost simultaneously. Cas, with Dean’s hand around his dick, spilling sticky between their stomachs, and Dean, deep inside Cas. He must have been really backed up because it felt like his come just kept pouring and wouldn’t stop. It even spilled out around his member, mixing with the mess covering both of their thighs.
They collapsed back on the bed. It took several minutes before either of them could catch their breath.
“That…was…”
“Phenomenal,” Cas finished his sentence.
“Yeah…” Dean’s hands rubbed up and down Cas’s back, “We should do that again sometime…”
Cas nodded sluggishly into Dean’s neck, “Definitely.”
Another five minutes and Cas’s content sighs changed to groans as their cum began to dry.
“Not so fun is it?”
Sitting up, Cas raised a brow at him.
“Sir,” He corrected himself, “It’s not so fun is it, Sir?”
“No, it is not,” he sighed, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
When he returned it was with a wet washcloth in hand. And after cleaning them both up, he unattached Dean’s cuffs from his ankles.
“How about a snack with aftercare, hm?”
Dean smiled, “What kind of snack, Sir?”
“You’ll see,” he returned the smile.
“Fine, but can we do it while we watch TV?”
“Sure.”
—
Turned out the snack was an energy bar, but it had chocolate chips in it, so it wasn’t that bad. They decided to turn on a show neither of them had seen before—something about dragons and different kingdoms fighting amongst themselves—and ate their snack while snuggling on the couch.
Halfway through the third episode, Dean’s phone started ringing on the coffee table. Cas paused the show while Dean picked it up and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Dean!” Charlie’s cheerful voice came through his phone speaker.
“Oh, hey Charles, what’s up?”
“Nothin’ much, how was Sam’s graduation?”
“It was great,” he looked over at Cas.
“That’s awesome! Tell him I said congrats next time you see him.”
“For sure, Red. Is that all you called about?”
“Oh no, I was actually just checking to see if we’re still on for next week? Game night?”
“Oh shit, yeah. Um…that’s uh..that’s next Saturday, right?”
“That’s the plan!”
“No, yeah, that sounds good.”
“What about Cas? Did you get things fixed with him?”
“Um…” He side-glanced at his friend, “Y-yeah we did, but he’s uh…he’s right here, Charlie.”
“Oh?” Her voice was suggestive, “What are y’all doing? Did I interrupt something?”
“No!” His cheeks reddened, “We’re watching TV.”
“Okay, whatever you say, dude.”
Cas stared at him with his brows pinched up in concern.
“So…did you ask him or not?”
“Ask him what?”
“If he wants to come to game night, genius.”
“Oh, um, no. One second.” He put the phone down, “Hey, so uh, do you remember me telling you about my friend Charlie?”
Cas nodded, “Yes, I believe so.”
“So um, she has this thing we do every other month called a game night, where we play board games, or sometimes video games, and she was wondering if you want to come.”
“Oh,” Cas looked surprised, “Sure.”
“Are you sure, I know it’s kinda late notice?”
“You said next Saturday?”
“Mhm.”
“I think I can do that.”
Dean lifted the phone back up to his ear, “He says yes, most likely.”
“Great! Tell him I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Yeah, I will.”
“Alright, talk to you later!”
“Bye, Charlie.”
Dean set his phone on the table.
“Y’know,” Dean chuckled, “I didn’t peg you for a board game type of guy.”
“I’m not.”
Dean sat back, “Then why’d you agree to go?”
“Because,” Cas said simply, “I’d get to spend time with you, and meet someone you're close with.”
Dean’s heart brimmed with affection, “Really?”
Cas grabbed his arm, pulling him closer, “Yeah.”
“Alright, then,” Dean melted into his arms, “But don’t get mad when I kick your ass at Sorry.”
“Deal,” Cas said softly, laying his head on top of Dean’s.
Whatever the grizzly man on the TV said next was lost on Dean as he drifted into a peaceful sleep on Cas's shoulder.
Notes:
Hope you guys liked this chapter as much as I did!
Did you catch Dean's almost slip up during their scene? Yeah, that's only gonna get worse hehe.
Please tell me your thoughts, I'd love to hear!
Chapter 13
Summary:
- Switching POV's
- Smut ;)
- TW's: use of marijuana / smoking
Notes:
It's a little shorter than usual, but it's got fluff, smut, a tiny bit of angst, so you have it all! Also a few plot developments. :)
As always, the medical scenarios/details of their jobs in this story are purely fictional, please don't take them too seriously. Also, I know weed isn't legal in Kansas, but let's ignore that atrocity for the sake of this story.
Hope you enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Cas’s POV)
“He broke his jaw?” Meg laughed from the seat she was currently leaning back in, half-way off the ground.
“Well, no, apparently not. But it did seem that way from first glance,” Cas replied.
“And the kid didn’t press charges?”
“No. Sam convinced him not to.”
“Wow.” Meg shook her head in disbelief, ”I’d love to hear what kinda dirt Dean’s brother had on that guy.”
“Yeah,” Cas took a sip of his coffee, “I never asked.”
“So,” His friend looked him up and down for a few seconds, “Are there any new developments?”
“Developments?”
“Yeah,” Her chair slammed back on all four legs as she let it fall to the floor, “You know, with your lover boy?”
“Meg…”
“Hey, I’m just asking.”
Cas exhaled a deep breath, “...No.” He finally said after a long pause.
“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?”
“We…talked, but it didn’t go very well.”
“Oof, get rejected?”
“Not necessarily? I don’t know. The conversation happened mostly while under the influence.”
“Drunk love confessions? Really?”
“Love was never mentioned, I guess we kinda just talked about having something more outside of our dynamic.”
“And?”
“And Dean said he didn’t think it was a good idea.”
Meg let out a groan of frustration, “Probably because he’s afraid you’ll see that he has feelings for you, because he thinks you don’t have feelings for him, because you won’t tell him!”
Cas bit his lip in contemplation, “You know, a few weeks ago I probably would’ve laughed at how ridiculous that sounded…but I’m not so sure anymore…”
Meg stared blankly at him, “I really should be compensated for this shit.”
“What do you mean?”
“For being friends with the biggest fucking idiot on the planet.”
“Alright, conversation over,” Cas got out of his seat and chugged down the rest of his drink. He enjoyed talking with Meg, and since he’s been back at work, this was the first time they’ve had a few moments to catch up, but sometimes she annoyed the shit out of him.
“Hey,” Meg beckoned Cas to look back over at her, “Just talk to him, okay? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I could think of a lot of things.”
She scowled.
“But…I agree. I’ve been planning on bringing it up again, I just never know when’s the right time.”
“Aren’t you seeing him tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Cas nodded, “We’re visiting one of his friends.”
“Okay, so ask him about it after.”
Cas opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the overhead paging him to the red zone. Without a moment's hesitation, he briskly walked out of the break room, tossing his coffee cup in the trash as he left.
He rushed down a few hallways and arrived at room 14A within seconds. There was a man lying on the bed who looked to be in bad shape. Already the trauma bay was filling with team members—A Senior Trauma Nurse, Nurse Ketch, who was point of communication, standing at the head of the bed, a Primary RN, Sarah Blake, was beginning to find access points for IVs, and other team members, such as radiology specialists and also a Junior Resident, Kevin Tran, stood by the patient’s side, assessing their condition.
As a Senior Resident, Cas took his place near the front, on the opposite side of Nurse Ketch, but his superior, Dick Roman, who was the ER Trauma Medical Director, stood behind watching it all.
While Castiel quickly put on his gloves, Nurse Ketch relayed the patient's information. This patient, a 20-year old male, had just suffered severe trauma to his head, face, and abdomen—as well as having multiple lacerations and what appeared to be a fractured fibula.
“Motorcycle accident,” Kevin explained as Cas pulled up his mask, “He’s losing blood fast.”
“What’s the status on the airway?”
“Comprimised. There’s significant swelling and possible obstruction.”
“Okay, we need to intubate immediately.” Cas instructed while further inspecting the patient’s throat, “Ketch, get me a 7.5 ET tube. Dr. Tran, have suction ready and prepare for rapid sequence intubation.”
Nurse Ketch presented the ET tube within seconds, “Here Doctor.”
“Suction ready,” Tran confirmed.
Cas nodded at Dr. Tran, “Nurse Blake, administer 20 mg of etomidate and 100 mg of succinylcholine. We need to do this fast.”
“Got it. Administering now.”
“Tran, continue to monitor vitals.”
The shorter doctor nodded, “Vitals stable for now, BP 90/60, heart rate 120.”
With skillful precision, Cas inserted the tube into the patient’s trachea, “Tube is in, let’s confirm placement. Ketch, auscultate for breathing sounds.”
Nurse Ketch placed his stethoscope on the patient's chest, “Bilateral breath sounds present, tube placement confirmed.”
“Good, now let’s address the bleeding. Tran, continue to apply pressure to the abdominal wound. Blake, start two large-bore IVs, let’s get fluids going. We need to stabalize his BP.”
Nurse Blake inserted the 16-gauge IVs, “Fluids running.”
“Bleeding is slowing down, but still heavy,” Tran pointed out.
Castiel helped apply pressure to the wound, “Alright, let’s get a type and crossmatch for 4 units of O negative. We’re going to need blood transfusions.”
Ketch nodded, “Blood bank notified.”
A few seconds later, Surgeon Richings walked in, “What’s the situation?”
Castiel turned his head, “Severe head and abdominal trauma, multiple lacerations, and fractured fibula. Airway is secured, but he’s bleeding heavily. BP is dropping despite fluids.”
“Alright,” Richings tied the strings of his double mask behind his head, “let’s get him prepped for surgery. We need to get the internal bleeding under control.”
Cas stepped a few paces to the side, letting Richings assess his patient. He heard Dr. Roman’s voice from behind him, “Dr. Novak, good job on the airway. Let’s keep the communication clear. Dr. Richings, do you need any additional imaging before heading to the OR?”
The elderly surgeon looked over at Dr. Roman and replied, “A F.A.S.T. scan should suffice. Let’s get it done quickly though.”
“I’ll set up the ultrasound,” Blake interjected.
Cas nodded, “Tran, once the scan is done, join Dr. Richings in the OR. Nurse Ketch, keep the blood transfusions ready and maintain communication with the OR team.”
“Understood, Dr. Novak. Blood is on its way.”
“How’s he holding?” Richings asked, most likely concerned they wouldn’t be able to get a scan complete before moving him to the OR.
"Vitals are holding steady for now.” Cas replied calmly, “Blood pressure is still low, but stable with the fluids. How's the bleeding control, Dr. Tran?"
"It's slowing down, but we need to get him to the OR quickly."
Castiel looked to the surgeon for direction. Dr. Richings instructed the group, "Alright, let's get a FAST scan before we move. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with internally."
Cas moved quickly but methodically, taking over the ultrasound machine that Nurse Blake had set up and moving it to the patient's side. The small screen flickered to life as he applied a liberal amount of ultrasound gel to the patient's abdomen. With practice precision, he began to scan the right upper quadrant of his abdomen with the probe.
Both his and Dr. Riching’s eyes were fixed on the screen, watching intently as the black and white images appeared. He moved the probe around the entire area, including the left upper quadrant, pelvis, and pericardium, systematically checking each area for signs of free fluid. The rest of the team stood by, continuing to monitor the patient’s vitals and getting ready for whatever their next steps may be.
"I'm seeing free fluid in the right upper quadrant and pelvis. Likely internal bleeding." Cas pointed out to Richings.
“Yes, this confirms we need immediate surgical intervention.”
“Alright team, let’s get him prepped for transport,” Cas began giving directions for the group.
The rest of the team worked harmoniously to get the patient ready for transport. Nurse Blake made sure the IV lines were secure and kept the fluids running, and Dr. Tran was instructed to stay by the patient’s side to be ready to assist if anything changed. They moved swiftly but carefully through the hallways, communicating constantly to ensure the patient’s stability. By the time they arrived at the OR, the surgical team was ready to receive the patient.
“Novak, we've got it from here,” Richings said, taking over as lead physician, “Kevin, stay with me to assist with the surgery."
"Understood, Dr. Richings,” Cas gave Kevin an encouraging smile, “Tran, you're in good hands. Focus on the surgery and keep me updated on his status."
"Will do, Dr. Novak."
Cas let the door to the OR close behind him as he stepped out into the hallway. He took in a few deep breaths, stabilizing himself.
He loved his job, he really did. But trauma cases always had a way of changing him into a completely different person, solely focused on directing a team to save the life of his patient. Which was a good thing, of course. He just needed a few minutes to ground himself again.
Unfortunately, the ER rarely allowed such time, and he was back in the red zone almost instantly with another trauma case.
—
Cas was practically giddy as he got his keys and phone out of his locker. It was almost 1 in the morning, and he had just finished his shift. He worked overtime so that he could have tomorrow off, which meant that he’d just completed a 15 hour workday. Least to say, he could not wait to collapse in his bed and get some sleep before tomorrow.
It was just his luck, of course, that he was stopped at the exit of the hospital by Dick Roman.
Dr. Roman wasn’t an awful guy—he was a lot better than Dr. Adler—but there was still something about him that gave Cas the creeps.
“Sorry to bother you on your way out,” Dr. Roman laughed and Cas returned it with a tight lipped smile, “But I just wanted to let you know about a few things.”
“Alright…”
“Personally, I would like to say what a phenomenal job you have done so far working for our humble ER. You’ve really mastered your position, and I know you will be even more astounding when you become certified.”
Cas straightened his posture, “Thank you, Sir.” He was a tad surprised at the compliment, since he always got a strange feeling that Dr. Roman disliked him.
“Don’t mention it. As a token of our appreciation for your amazing work, you’ll be receiving a phone call in the next 24 hours about some news regarding your request.”
His forehead creased as he tried to recall what Roman meant, “My request?”
“Yep,” Dr. Roman reached forward and patted his shoulder then winked at him, “You have a good night.”
“Y-you as well,” Cas stammered out as Dr. Roman walked away.
What was he talking about?
Cas shook his head, casting the thought from his very tired, very sleep-deprived mind.
He’ll deal with this in the morning.
—
Turns out that Cas didn’t wake up until almost afternoon the next day. He couldn’t believe he slept in so late, but considering his long and tiring shift yesterday, it’s not surprising he got almost 10 hours of sleep.
He was slightly panicked, however, because he still had the game night with Dean and Charlie he had to be ready to leave for by 2pm, since it was apparently happening at her girlfriend’s dorothy’s house which was almost an hour away.
Groaning, Cas finally made himself get out of bed, every muscle was taut and aching, but he eventually made his way into the shower, the warm water helping to loosen him up.
After an ungodly amount of time in the shower—his water bill was gonna be a pain in the ass this month—he walked back into his room to get dressed. Since this was a group activity, he didn’t feel as stressed getting ready for this event as he did when he and Dean went ax throwing, but he was still meeting new people so he wanted to look his best.
A few outfit changes later, and Cas finally decided on slim fit dark-washed jeans, paired with a light blue short-sleeved button down, and a pair of black sneakers. He combed through his hair and put on his favorite cologne, then ventured into his kitchen to find some lunch.
Since being back this week, he still hasn’t had time to go to the grocery store, which wasn’t the only thing he didn’t have time for. None of his shifts have been less than 10 hours since he had had so much time off last week, so he was behind on a lot of shit.
And despite the fact that he wasn’t really a game person, Cas was looking forward to today all for the mere fact that he doesn’t have to work.
An almond butter and jelly sandwich was the lunch of choice, and was scarfed down with a glass of water. Thinking about how Dean would react to the sandwich he was currently eating brought a smile to his face.
And as if somehow Dean knew Cas was thinking of him, his phone began to ring, Dean’s contact lighting up the screen.
“Dean?”
“Hey, Cas. Just makin’ sure I’m still good to come get you in half an hour.”
“Yep, I’m ready.”
“Alright, sweet, see you in a bit.”
“Sounds good.” They both hung up, Cas blushing—like he always did—at the thought of Dean picking him up.
Today was gonna be fun, he could feel it. He was in a good mood, Dean sounded like he was in a good mood, and what better way to spend his day off than with his best friend.
He might even get the guts up to have another talk on the way home.
Maybe.
— (Dean’s POV)
Dean was so excited for today.
He’s been working like crazy ever since they got back, picking up shifts and covering for people to make up for the amount of work he lost last week. He suspected that it’s been crazy for Cas as well, which meant this was a much needed break for both of them.
Dean confirmed with Charlie this morning about what time to be there and had received a text from her with the address. It was an hour away, which meant he got two hours of alone time with Cas he had to look forward to. They hadn’t scened since Dean’s drop because of their schedules being so hectic, and although he wasn’t expecting to scene with him today, he was still excited to spend time with him.
The Impala rumbled as he pulled it into Cas’s driveway. Before he could even get out and knock, Cas opened his front door and stepped out.
Maybe it’s because of the drought Dean’s been going through when it came to seeing Cas, but the sight of his friend in the tight-fitted shirt and dark jeans literally made his mouth water. Part of him was glad Cas was walking himself to the car so that Dean wouldn’t have to try and hide his obvious hard-on.
The passenger door creaked open, “Ready?”
“Yep,” Dean confirmed and Cas slid into his seat.
As Dean put the car in reverse to back out, Cas sighed contentedly, laying his head back and closing his eyes “I enjoy sitting in this seat.”
Dean looked over feeling a little bit guilty, “I’m sorry you had to sit in the back so much on our trip.”
Eyes still closed, Cas shook his head, “It’s not a problem, Dean. I understand. I just forgot how much I missed this.”
Dean smiled, he missed this too.
—
The drive to Dorothy’s house was uneventful but relaxing. They talked a bit about work, some about Sam, and Dean also gave him a quick rundown on the story of how he and Charlie became friends. But for the most part they just enjoyed the sound of the wind coming through the open windows and the blaring music of the radio.
Dorothy’s house was beautiful. It was located on a field, with no other neighbors to be seen for miles. The house itself was almost cottage like, painted a sage green and decorated with plants and flowers. Charlie lived here most of the time, but still rented an apartment in Kansas City to be close to her job. Even though she worked from home, she still had to come in sometimes.
When they pulled into the driveway, which was mostly grass, Dean could see Dorothy sitting on a porch swing with Charlie standing beside her waving. The two men got out of the car and walked up the porch steps.
Charlie threw her arms around Dean, “Dean! It’s so good to see you!”
“Heya, Red,” He picked her up off her feet a bit and squeezed her tightly, “It’s been too long.”
“You’re telling me!” She exclaimed, then looked over at Cas.
“Is this the guy I’ve been hearing so much about?”
Dean nodded and stuck his hands in his pocket, “Charlie, meet Castiel.”
“It’s nice to meet—” Completely forgoing formality, Charlie immediately embraced him in a big hug.
“Dude, it’s so good to finally meet you!”
“Y-you too,” he said, a little surprised.
Charlie stepped back, “You’re shorter than I expected.”
Cas turned to look at Dean with a brow raised.
“Oh no, it’s not because Dean told me you were, just vibes,” She explained.
“I see.”
Dorothy stepped up beside her girlfriend.
“Oh, I guess it’s my turn,” Charlie put a hand around her, “Guys, this is Dorothy.”
“I believe we’ve met before,” Dorothy smiled calmly and stuck a hand out to Dean.
He shook it, “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Oh none of that,” She laughed, “I’m not that much older than you.”
“Sorry,” Dean amended, but Dorothy waved her hand in dismissal and turned to Cas.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Cas shook her hand, “You as well.”
“So,” Dean looked around the porch and yard, “Is it just gonna be us?”
When they first started doing game nights, they’d invite people they’ve known from high school or some of Charlie’s college friends, but as time passed, people moved and they were pretty much just left with themselves.
“Yep, but it’s just enough people to play mario kart so I say we’re set.”
Dorothy opened the front door and gestured for everyone to go inside, “Please, come in.”
The group walked through the front door, and the first thing Dean noticed was the smell of essential oils and incense.
“Damn, I didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff,” Dean pointed at the diffuser.
“I’m not,” Dorothy replied, “Charlie put those there.”
“Really?” Dean turned to his friend, surprised.
Charlie shrugged, “I heard it helps you distress.”
“That’s true,” Cas commented, “Essential oils have been used for thousands of years for medicinal and health related purposes.”
“See.”
“Huh,” Dean shook his head, “Sure is strong though.”
The four of them walked to Dorothy’s living room and took a seat on her L-shaped couch.
“Anybody want anything to drink?” Dorothy asked.
“You got any beer?” Dean asked hopefully.
“You bet,” Dorothy grinned.
Their host fetched some cold beers for all of them and set them on the side tables beside the couch. Dean cracked his open and took a long drink, moaning in satisfaction.
“Just what I needed,” Dean tried to ignore the stare he could see Cas giving him from his peripheral.
“Alright,” Charlie opened the shelf under the entertainment center and began getting out remotes. “Here,” She called to Dean right before tossing it in his lap.
She threw one to Cas, who wasn’t nearly as graceful catching it, then settled back on the couch next to her girlfriend.
“Y’all ready for some Mario Kart?”
“Only if I can be Bowser.”
“Nobody wants Bowser but you, Dean.” Charlie pointed out.
He shrugged.
Charlie and Dorothy selected Daisy and Rosalina to be their characters, while Cas aimlessly moved his cursor over the screen.
“You gonna choose a character sometime today, Cas?”
“Um…” Cas squinted his eyes at the screen, “What is a…waluigi?”
“He’s….he’s like the rival of one of the other characters I think,” Charlie explained.
Cas nodded, looking at the screen like it was some crazy phenomenon.
“Cas, just pick a character, dude,” Dean sighed exhaustively.
“How do I know which one to pick?”
“It—It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh.”
Cas moved his remote over the screen until he finally chose Toad.
“You know what,” Dean chuckled, “That fits.”
Cas looked at him curiously, “How?”
“Just forget it.”
Charlie looked at Cas with a smirk, “Have you ever played a video game in your life?”
“Um…no. Not really.”
Her eyes twinkled brightly, “Guess we’ll just have to teach you.”
—
For the next hour, the three of them taught Cas how to play Mario Kart. And funnily enough, he became rather good at it in the short amount of time he had to practice. He got so good at it, that he was starting to be competitive. Even though they were currently playing as a team against all the com players, Cas wanted to place first in their own team.
But if there was one person who was more competitive than Cas at Mario Kart, it was Dean.
To have more elbow room, both Cas and Dean had moved to the floor, letting the girls take the whole couch.
“Dude, stay on your side,” Dean said begrudgingly as he scooted away from where Cas was leaning into him.
“Leaning helps me make the turns better.”
“It really doesn’t,” He grumbled.
When the last race for their team was finished, Dean thankfully placed the highest—but Cas wasn’t far behind.
“You know what,” Charlie sat up from where she’d been curled up next to Dorothy. “I think we need to take game night to the next level.”
Dorothy raised a brow, seeming to understand what her girlfriend was insinuating, “Are you getting the stash?”
“Uh huh,” She replied as she jumped off the couch and over Dean’s head.
“Hey!” Dean cowered, then looked up, “‘Stash’ better be referring to some chocolate or something.”
“Even better!” She called from the room over.
A few seconds later, Charlie was skipping back into the living room, a bag of something in one hand and a small object in the other. She climbed back on the couch.
“Y’all ever smoked?”
“Oh,” Dean looked at the glass pipe, and bag of weed Charlie was opening, “Um, no.”
“Really? That surprises me.”
“Just never got around to it I guess.”
“What about you, Cas?” Dorothy asked.
“No. We have drug tests at work, and it never piqued my interest.”
“Well,” Charlie began placing bits of the weed into the bowl, “It’s not for everyone, but it can be really enjoyable with the right crowd. Y’all wanna try?”
Dean shrugged, “Why not.”
Charlie reached over to the side table and picked up a small lighter, then held the flame against the edge of the bowl. The smell was strong, but it wasn’t really unpleasant. She brought the tip to her lips, inhaling the smoke that was accumulating in the bowl as the glowing ember at the end intensified.
Her exhale was slow and controlled as she savored the feeling.
“See? That’s how you do it.”
Dean nodded as she handed him the bowl, “Here goes.”
Dean followed the same procedure that Charlie had done, coughing a bit when he finally breathed out the smoke.
“Not too bad?” Charlie asked, grimacing a little at Dean’s cough.
“N-no, that was good,” he handed it back to Charlie.
“Cas?” Charlie held it out to Cas.
“Oh no, thank you. If I had a drug test done tomorrow that would not end very well.”
“Fair enough.”
The hazy smoke swirled in the room as the rest of them took turns taking hits from the bowl, their inhales and exhales becoming more relaxed as time went on.
“You know what would be fun,” Charlie said while curled up under her girlfriend's arm, “If you and Cas did a one on one race.”
Both of the men’s eyebrows perked up at the suggestion.
“Neither of you want to play anymore?” Cas asked.
Dorothy shook her head, “I’m good. My fingers were getting sore anyways.”
“That’s a first,” Charlie said way more casually than expected.
“Ew gross.”
“Get used to it, Dean. You’re in a lesbian household.”
“Fair enough,” He shrugged, “I’m down.”
Cas nodded, “So am I.”
“But only if Cas can handle being a sore loser,” Dean snarked.
“You can’t be serious,” Cas cocked his head, “Says the biggest sore loser of all time.”
“Oh yeah,” Dorothy chuckled, “This is gonna be fun.”
—
Apparently weed made Dean even more competitive.
They had two races out of five left to go, and Cas was up by one race. Despite not having smoked, Cas seemed to match Dean’s ridiculous enthusiasm over the game, leaning in his space once again whenever he made turns. Dean just elbowed him out of the way, which eventually turned into them both nudging and pushing at each other to get the other to mess up.
It was close, but the end result of their races left Cas the winner and Dean the loser. Dean threw his remote on the rug, “Okay, that’s not fuckin’ fair. You pushed me!”
“So did you!” Cas laughed.
Charlie looked between them with a bemused grin.
“Because you were in my space again!”
“It’s not my fault you can’t play without—”
Cas was unable to finish his sentence as Dean tackled him to the ground—which wasn’t that large of a feat considering they were already sitting on the floor. Of course, since Cas was sober, he was able to react a lot faster. He quickly flipped them over and turned Dean around so that his hand was pinned to his back.
“Fight! Fight!” Charlie encouraged deviously while Dorothy shook her head.
“Really, Red?” Dean strained his neck back to look at his friend. She shrugged, obviously enjoying their little skirmish.
Cas pushed harder on Dean’s arm, “l’m the winner Dean, fair and square.”
Dean scowled at him, but his friend was unmoving and Dean didn’t have enough energy to try and get him off.
“Fine…” He grumbled, “Now get off ‘f me.”
Cas rolled off rather ungracefully and Dean sat up with a groan.
“How ya feelin’?” Charlie asked.
Dean sat back against the couch and ran a hand through his hair, “Good.”
“Want some more?” She offered the bowl.
Without responding, Dean reached back and took it from her outstretched hand. When he turned around, he could sense Cas staring at him. His friend’s brow was lifted on one side, obviously unhappy about Dean smoking some more.
“What?”
“Unless you’re okay with me driving Baby home, I suggest you make this the last one.”
“It’s not like you haven't done it before,” he shrugged and dug into his pocket to retrieve his keys, throwing them to Cas.
The rest of the group, besides Cas, each took a few more hits until, finally, they were reaching a nice high. Charlie was definitely the most stoned out of the three of them, and was currently lying across her girlfriend’s lap, lazily eating a bag of chips.
Dorothy seemed mostly relaxed, and Dean was somewhere in between. He had energy—enough to try another rematch with Cas and lose, again—but his eyes were beginning to feel heavy and dry, the room became a bit more fuzzy, and his mouth was parched.
Despite the strange sensations, he was having a good time. They turned Charlie’s console off and decided to just talk. It was probably the weed, but no matter what topic of conversation they were on, Dean couldn’t stop giggling, and neither could Charlie.
It was almost comical the way that Dorothy and Cas were trying to have a serious and deep conversation while Charlie and Dean were throwing in “that’s what she said” jokes completely unwarranted.
It was less funny that Dean was strewn out over Cas’s lap the same that Charlie was with Dorothy. He had his back fit snuggly in-between Cas’s thighs, and his head resting on his lower abdomen. Cas was supporting himself with his hands behind his back, placed firmly on the floor.
Dean wasn’t exactly sure how he ended up here, but he knew one thing, he was not getting up anytime soon.
Unfortunately for him, Cas did not share the same sentiments.
“Dean, I can't feel my legs anymore.” Cas grumbled while trying to push Dean off of him.
With his mouth full of chips, Dean retorted, “Hmm and why does that concern me?”
His quip did him little good when Cas successfully managed to push him off.
Instead of being angry, Dean just snickered some more.
“I think it might be time for the giggle bugs to go to bed,” Dorothy said in a mockingly cute voice while looking down at her girlfriend.
“Aww! But we’re having fun…” Charlie stuck out her bottom lip.
Dean suddenly went quiet, his laughter halting and his facial expression becoming serious. He hadn’t noticed before but the room was starting to spin in a weird, almost stop-motion kind of way, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Yep, time to go.” Cas sighed, and helped Dean to sit up. “Do you have any water?”
Dororthy nodded, “There’s some bottles in the fridge.”
“Alright, up you go big boy.” Cas hoisted Dean onto his feet.
Once he was on his feet he felt a little better, water did sound amazing right now though. Cas led him to the kitchen and leaned him up against the counter, then opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water.
Greedily, Dean snatched it from his hand and began chugging it. After the bottle was half-emptied, he set it on the counter.
“That’s some good medicine, Doc.” Dean said while panting from lack of air.
Cas shook his head.
Dorothy and Charlie walked in the kitchen. Although she took the most hits, Charlie seemed like she was able to handle her weed better than Dean considering she was able to hold herself upright and only had slightly reddened eyes. She did look very relaxed though.
“You gonna live, Winchester?”
Instead of answering Charlie, Dean just looked at Cas.
“You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine,” he parroted Cas happily.
The red-headed woman walked up to Dean and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course, Red,” He mumbled into her shoulder.
After they finished embracing, Charlie moved to hug Cas, “Take care of him.”
“I will,” he chuckled.
Dorothy walked up beside her girlfriend and swung an arm over her neck, “You guys should come back again sometime, that was a lot of fun.”
“I’d like that,” Cas smiled.
Dorothy returned the smile, and walked them to the front door.
“You guys have a safe drive.”
“And text me when you get home safe!” Charlie added as they were walking out.
“We will,” Cas called behind him.
— (Cas’s POV)
Dean wasn’t super high, but he was stoned enough that he begged Cas to stop off at some small burger place on their way home—despite emptying half of Dorothy’s pantry. Cas was fine with it, it’s been a while since he last ate an actual meal and food would do them both good.
He pulled baby into the almost empty parking lot and Dean slowly got out of the car. His movements were a bit delayed, but there was still excitement and giddiness behind his eyes.
“I’m eating everything they have here,” He exclaimed while Cas took his arm and led him inside.
“I’m sure.”
When the pair of men walked inside, Dean practically ran up to the counter, his mouth already open and ready to start blurting out his order.
“Hi, I want—”
“Let’s just…” Cas pulled Dean beside him, “Let me.”
Dean crossed his arms like a toddler, Cas chose to ignore him.
“Can we do two burger meals with fires as the side and water. And also, can you put bacon on one of the burgers?”
The lady, who was standing behind the counter with her hip cocked to one side, looked between him and Dean, “Sure thing, that’ll be $16.34.”
Cas pulled his wallet out of his front pocket, and handed her a twenty, “You can keep the change.”
She nodded gratefully.
“Come on, Dean.”
As Cas guided him to the table, Dean giggled, “You knew my order.”
“Yes, Dean.” He pushed Dean into the booth seat, and decided to sit beside him instead of across.
As soon as he was settled, he looked at Dean who was staring at him with a dopey smile and lidded eyes, “You’re my best friend.”
A little surprised by the remark, Cas cleared his throat, “Y-yes.”
“And I’m your best friend?”
“Of course.”
Satisfied with that answer, Dean slumped back against the seat and closed his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Cas said after a moment's silence.
Dean groaned slightly and leaned forward until his forehead touched the table, “I’m high.”
Cas snorted a laugh and placed a hand on Dean’s back, rubbing small circles there, “Just a little.”
It wasn’t long before their order was being brought out, and it was an even shorter amount of time before Dean’s basket was completely empty.
Cas wasn’t even half-way done when he noticed how quickly Dean had demolished his food. The younger man belched a little and leaned against the window he was sitting next to.
“Do you regret it?” Cas smirked, popping a fry in his mouth.
Dean seemed to seriously ponder his question, “No. I’m okay. I think the food helped—and water. Jus’ need to relax.” He closed his eyes again.
“If you fall asleep, just know that I am not carrying you out.”
Dean breathed a short exhale through his nose, “Yeah, right.”
Fair enough.
—
Dean did not, in fact, fall asleep. But he was damn near close.
However, once they got back out of the car, he seemed a little more alert, almost like he’d gotten a second wind. He was fidgety in his seat, looking out the window and shifting from side to side.
“Are you okay, Dean?” Cas glanced over at him.
“Yes, will you stop asking?”
Throwing up a hand in defense, Cas turned his attention back to the road.
After a few minutes more of Dean looking out the window, he finally broke the silence, “Hey, you know that big field we passed on the way up here?”
“Field? Dean, this is Kansas, practically everything is a field.”
“I know, but it was really big.”
“Helpful.”
“Cas.”
“Okay um,” Cas looked at the GPS on his phone, and sure enough, he could see a large expanse of land without any buildings that was coming up in a few miles, “Yes, actually, I do see it. Why?”
“You should pull over there.”
“Why…?”
“Just ‘cause.”
“Dean…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s getting late.”
He wasn’t wrong, the sky was changing from a light orange to a red orange, dusk settling over the valley.
“Please,” Dean begged him.
Cas sighed, but nodded, “Fine.”
As they began to drive past the field, Cas slowed down until he saw a small dirt road that led directly into it. He pulled onto the road, and the Impala swayed from side to side as it struggled to drive over the uneven ground. When they got to a good spot in the field, relatively far from the main road, Dean told him to park.
Without saying anything more, his friend exited the vehicle and Cas followed him.
“What are you doing, Dean?”
Dean had his head pointed straight up at the night sky,
“Isn’t that beautiful?”
Cas looked upwards.
It was.
“Come on,” Dean gestured towards the hood of his car, and climbed up on it.
“You really must be stoned,” Cas said under his breath, knowing that sober Dean would never risk putting a dent in his precious baby all for the sake of some sightseeing. Deciding he had no better choice, Cas crawled up on the hood, and took a seat beside Dean, drawing his knees up for his elbows to rest on.
Kansas may be a quiet, uneventful state, but it still had beautiful scenery. Cas rarely got to enjoy it because of living in the city. And even though he swore to himself he’d never like Kansas, it’s definitely grown on him since he’s been here.
It was also hard not to enjoy the scenery when he was pressed up against the love of his life.
The stars twinkled brightly in the clear night sky, making Dean’s eyes glow even more than usual. Castiel could get lost in those eyes.
As he admired Dean’s beauty, a thought popped in his head. Now would be a good time to bring up what Meg had told him to talk to Dean about. Well, it wasn’t a great time. Dean was still partially stoned, but they were alone, and the setting was as romantic as it could get.
Just before he could open his mouth, Dean unknowingly interjected.
“You know,” Dean cleared his throat, “When me and Sam were kids, we used to uh, play a game where we’d make our own constellations.”
Cas smiled in endearment, “That sounds fun,” He said softly.
Dean nodded slowly while staring up at the sky, then he looked over at Cas, “We should do that.”
It was getting late, and they should be getting home. But for some reason, it seemed like Dean really wanted Cas to say yes. And Cas, be damned, was helpless to do anything else, “Okay.”
Dean beamed and Cas looked up at the starry expanse, trying to find some sort of image.
“Ooo,” Dean pointed his finger upwards, “That one looks like a frowny face.”
Cas looked in the direction Dean was pointing, “Hmm. I don’t see it.”
“Not there,” Dean gripped his chin and lifted it slightly more upwards, “See? There.”
Sure enough, Cas could make out a pattern of stars that—slightly—resembled a frowny face.
“It looks more like a diamond to me.”
Dean scoffed, “You have no imagination.”
Cas went back to searching for one on his own.
“What about that?” He raised a finger, “That looks like a heart.”
Dean bent his head to the side, trying to make out what Cas was telling him he saw, “Yeah, I guess.” Dean continued to twist his head until he was almost upside down, “If you look at it this way it looks like a butt.” He chuckled.
“Really, Dean?” Cas shook his head.
“Hey, it can be whatever I want it to be.”
“No, I really don’t think it can.”
“Come on, Cas, it’s like one of the biggest metaphors of life. Things are what you make ‘em. If I say the stars look like a butt, they look like a butt.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“But I’m right.”
Cas sighed, refusing to grant Dean the satisfaction of hearing him agree. “So by that thread of logic,” He turned his head to look at Dean straight on, his eyes, no doubt, dialated to the max, “If I say that you look beautiful right now, then you look beautiful, right?”
Dean cleared his throat, sounding like he was trying to avoid making some sort of embarrassing noise, “Y-you can’t just say things like that, Cas.”
Maybe.
But screw it, Dean did look stunning, and beautiful. He looked like everything Cas had ever wanted.
“Why not?” He tested the waters.
“B-because…”
Cas moved the palm that was resting beside Dean’s thigh to behind him, and leaned in, bringing his face dangerously close, “Because why?”
“Because…” Dean’s lip quivered, he looked at Cas’s mouth, then back up at his eyes, “I might do something like this.”
They both leaned forward almost simultaneously, sealing their lips together. Cas’s free hand came up to cup the side of Dean’s face, while Dean’s hand gripped onto the front of Cas’s shirt.
The kiss heated up quickly, with both of them moaning and slipping their tongues into the other’s mouth. Eventually, Cas’s hand began moving downward, until he had a thumb wrapped around Dean’s neck, maneuvering him whichever way he wanted.
Dean broke this kiss for a second to breathe, spit trailing in the air.
But Cas couldn’t stand being away from him even for a second, so he grabbed—almost roughly—onto Dean’s hair and brought him right back, catching his mouth in a claiming and possessive kiss. There was a small squeak from the younger man, but instead of trying to fight, he melted submissively against Cas.
A heady urgency filled the atmosphere between them, it was driving Cas insane. He needed Dean like he needed air, but he couldn’t seem to get close enough. In a desperate attempt to convey his dilemma, he pushed Dean against Baby’s windshield and straddled him, the metal of her hood creaking under their weight. Cas dove back in, grinding his hips, and swelling erection against Dean’s.
“Mmm—Fuck,” Dean gasped, bucking his own hips upwards.
“I need you, Dean. I need you right the fuck now.”
Still loose and pliable from the weed he’d smoked earlier, Dean began nodding dumbly, then abruptly stopped and started shaking his head.
This reaction shocked Cas, he froze, muscles tensing all over his body, “What’s wrong, Dean?”
“N-nothing,” Dean replied, still panting, “I just—we can’t do this out in the open.”
“Why not? No one can see us Dean, we’re in an abandoned field.” He reasoned.
Dean looked around, “Okay…but we can’t do it on Baby’s hood.”
Cas sighed, and clumsily got out of Dean’s lap. He reached a hand out for Dean to take, “Come on then.”
Knowing where Cas was taking this, and equally excited to get the show on the road, Dean took his hand and slid off the roof of the car.
Cas led him to the back seat, opening the door with one hand, climbing in, and then pulling Dean in after him. Immediately, they slipped into a comfortable position with Dean now straddling Cas’s thighs and their upper bodies pressed against one another.
They went right back to making out, tongues and lips sloppy. Broad hands trailed down Dean’s waist, then hips, and eventually found their way to his ass, grabbing firmly on the flesh there. “Fuck—Dean, you are irresistable.”
Dean just moaned in response, slipping a hand under Cas’s shirt and tracing it up and down his chest. “Need—take this o-off,” Dean tugged at the fabric of the shirt, and Cas responded with a nod, helping him undo the buttons. When he was finally free from the garment, Dean instantly latched his mouth onto the exposed skin, licking and kissing in the ways that Cas usually did to him.
Groaning, Cas dug his nails into the meat of Dean’s hips, then circled around to the front and started undoing the button of his jeans. Dean enthusiastically agreed with Cas’s train of thought as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers as fast as he could—Cas, unbuckling his own jeans and taking out his hard and leaking cock.
Dean full on whimpered when he saw the sight and wrapped his hand around the one Cas was using to encircle his own dick. “I need—I—” Dean began to mumble in between breaths, his hips continuing to cant back, grinding on Cas’s thighs.
“I know, sweetheart, me too,” Cas looked around the car, “We need lube Dean.”
“I-In the glove—” Dean huffed in impatience and quickly climbed halfway over the front seat, retrieving the lube from the glovebox. The small bottle was half full, but it should be enough.
Cas took it from Dean’s shaking hands, and opened it, pouring some on his fingers. While Dean worked to take his shirt off, Cas reached around to his ass and began slipping a wet finger over his hole.
Dean groaned sinfully and almost fell forward, a wanton expression written all over his face.
“Fuck…” He moaned when Cas carefully inserted the tip, “Please…”
“Here,” Cas handed Dean the bottle with his free hand, “Get my cock ready, Dean.”
Nodding fiercely, Dean took the lube and began slicking up his dick, while Cas worked his finger in up to the first knuckle.
After a few struggled breaths and whimpers from both of them, Cas managed to successfully prepare Dean, and was now currently pumping three fingers in his entrance, curling them inwards to draw an animalistic reaction from him.
On the third stroke that hit directly against Dean’s prostate, he reached behind himself and grabbed Cas’s hand, “—Now—n-need—now!” He commanded and pleaded at the same time.
Cas didn’t blame him for the urgency, they were both absolutely consumed with need. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked him.
Using his grip on Dean’s sides, Cas lifted him upward and forward, granting him more room to line up. His hand grasping the base of his dick, Cas slowly but surely pressed into his lover, making him keen with arousal.
“G-god…”
“Fuck—Dean, you feel so amazing.”
“Missed—” Dean gasped as Cas bottomed out, Dean’s ass becoming flush with Cas’s hip bones. “Missed this…so much…” He whined.
Taking a moment to fully soak up the feeling of being sheathed inside Dean, he brought their foreheads together, “Me too, sweetheart.” One last gentle kiss, then Cas started shifting, moving his hips into Dean while Dean rocked back into him. It was gloriously perfect, and too much all at once.
He wasn’t sure why they waited so long to do this. And as much as he thoroughly enjoyed riding Dean last week, nothing could compare to seeing the man he loved bouncing up and down on his cock, freckled skin rippling with each movement, and little breathy ‘uhn uhn uhn’s’ coming out whenever Cas managed to target his sweet spot.
The car shook with how powerful their thrusts were. Dean had a hand splayed against the window behind Cas’s head, and one on Cas’s chest. Sweat cascaded down his body, including his forehead.
For some reason, alarm bells were going off in the very far back of Cas’s mind. He chose to ignore them for the sake of pounding into Dean harder.
After a few minutes of ruthless fucking, Dean’s legs began to shake and he fell forward, his chest connecting with Cas’s head. His fingers still searched for purchase on the window, but the one that had been on his chest was now grabbing onto Cas’s hair, as he gave up trying to match the older man’s speed and instead, simply held on for the ride.
“Dean…Dean…F-fuck…” Cas was getting close, but he needed Dean to come first—and the best way he knew to do that was always to talk him through it, “You love it, don’t you? Fucking love riding me—god—just made for this aren’t you?”
Panting and moaning, Dean nodded vehemently, “Yes yes yes—”
“Say it, Dean. Who were you made for?”
“F-f-for…you—for you—” Dean gasped in a pained voice, Cas could tell he was close to tears.
“That’s right…” His own legs were shaking now, “Be good for me, Dean, be good and come on my fucking cock. I want to feel you come for me…”
“Yes—yes—” Dean’s hands had a death grip on Cas’s hair, his dick leaked between them. Cas knew he was right on the brink. “Sh–it…fuck! Pl-please…please…
…Cas.”
Hearing his name fall from Dean’s lips while being buried deep inside him ignited something in Cas, and completely outside of his control, he was coming. Hard.
Thankfully, Dean wasn’t far behind as he came right after, spilling between them hot and messy. As he came down from his orgasm, Dean began mumbling “Thank you…” into Cas’s skin as Cas petted his air.
The car was filled with the scent of sweat and sex mixed with the leather interior, and the only sound that could be heard was their labored breathing as they attempted to catch their breath. A few minutes of resting in each other’s embrace, and Cas was beginning to think Dean was asleep, which was fine, Cas needed time to compose himself anyway.
He was getting clarity, and that meant he was now realizing how royally he had just fucked up. It wasn’t entirely his fault, Dean was the one who initiated the kiss. But Cas didn’t even take a second to consider what this meant from them, too driven with lust and need to have Dean.
And now, here they were, with Dean draped over him, his cock softening inside Dean’s ass, and not a collar in sight. They hadn’t even tried to hold up some facade.
And then Dean said his name…
Cas didn’t realize one word could sound so arousing.
But he knew why, because it was coming from Dean. What he’s always wanted, for him and Dean to be together, not their personas of Dom and sub.
And if this was what he always wanted, then he should be happy, right?
—
Cas had just started to doze off when the sensation of a bright light being shone in his eyes and the sound of knocking on the window startled him awake. His surprised response woke Dean up as well.
“Hello in there?”
Sticking up a hand to block the light, Cas squinted, “W-what?”
The muffled voice of a woman sounded through the window, “This is private property, you can’t be here.”
Suddenly struck with the mortifying realization that they were both still naked, Cas scrambled to cover both of them with the clothes he’d thrown on the floorboard of the car.
“Cas?” Dean asked in a panic.
“O-okay, sorry!” Cas responded to the woman.
The light was averted and Cas could hear the sound of footsteps stepping away from the car.
“Cas, what’s going on?”
“Get dressed, Dean.”
The pair of men awkwardly put their clothes on as fast as they could. Dean groaned in complaint when he realized he still had cum leaking out of his ass, but there wasn’t much they could do about it right now.
Once they were dressed, they both got out of the back seat, and finally saw who had been knocking on their window.
A policewoman in uniform was leaning up against a car. She didn’t seem angry, and there was actually a pleasant smile plastered on her face. She walked up to Cas and stuck out her hand, “Hiya, I’m Sheriff Hanscum. Pleasure to meet ya.”
Still blushing from embarrassment, Cas hesitated to shake it for obvious reasons.
Sheriff Hanscum looked down at her hand in realization and withdrew it, “Oh yeah, um, maybe another time.”
“I apologize, officer. We thought this field was abandoned, we didn’t—”
“Oh it’s fine,” She waved her hand in dismissal, “I catch kids out here all the time.”
Cas gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Except, you two are no kids, are ya?” She raised a brow.
After clearing his throat, Cas looked over his shoulder at Dean who seemed equally embarrassed with his eyes cast downwards.
“No, Ma’am.”
“What’s your names?”
“Castiel, my name is Castiel Novak,” Cas pointed his hand in Dean’s direction, “And this is my—” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence, and telling by the look on Dean’s face, neither was he.
“Boyfriend?” The Sheriff finished for him.
Cas opened his mouth to reply, but Dean beat him to it. “Yeah, my name’s Dean Winchester.”
Cas hated to admit how happy it made him feel to hear Dean say that.
The Sheriff nodded, “Alrighty then. I’m not charging you guys with anything, just don’t do it again, yeah?”
“Of course, Officer. Thank you.”
Dean quickly got into the passenger seat, and just as Cas opened the driver’s side door, Officer Hanscum added, “Hey,” Cas turned around, “I can tell you two make a good pair, treat each other right.”
The words, although said with good intentions, did little to mask the fact that she had just seen them both naked cuddling not two minutes ago.
“Um, thank you. W-we will.”
“Bye bye, now,” She gave a small wave.
Nodding politely, Cas got back in the car as fast as he could.
Once they pulled out on the open road, both of them let out a breath at once.
“Well, as far as bad ideas go, Dean, that definitely takes the cake.”
Dean threw him a defensive glare, “How was I supposed to know it was private property? I mean, don’t they usually put signs up or something?”
Cas sighed.
After a short pause, Dean murmured, “Do you really regret it that much?”
“N-no,” He replied immediately. When Dean didn’t seem convinced, he insisted, “Of course not, Dean.”
His friend nodded slowly, then a small, almost bashful smile spread across his face, “Me neither.”
—
The rest of the drive home was spent in comfortable silence. Dean seemed to go back to his content and satisfied state, his dopamine saturated mind putting him into a light sleep for most of the drive. Cas was grateful for that though, he needed to think and process everything that just happened.
It was ironic that he had planned to talk to Dean about defining their relationship again, and now he was even more confused than before. He didn’t regret it by any means, it was just that he could feel the beginning of a cycle. A cycle where they chose to ignore their actual feelings, and compensate by having more sex.
It’s not like Castiel didn’t love the sex, but he didn’t just love the sex.
He loved Dean.
But as much as he wanted to tell Dean that, he just couldn’t build up the courage to. It was easier to fall into the temptation of quick gratification, and feeling like he had Dean, even for a short amount of time, than to actually face the possibility of Dean rejecting him.
And although the thought of Dean rejecting him was feeling less and less likely, it still wasn’t impossible. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship, Dean was practically the only thing keeping him going.
The only thing keeping him here.
He did feel a tad justified in not bringing it up considering Dean had still been slightly under the influence, and Cas was not making the same mistake again of talking to him about their relationship while one of them was not fully sober.
Still, he had to nut up at some point—as Dean would say.
By the time they reached Cas’s house, Dean was much more sober. With the food, the sleep, and probably the sex as well, Dean was as good as new. After Cas put the car in park, he got out and stretched, then walked around to the driver’s side. There was a mischievously flirtatious glint in his eyes as he strode up to Cas, who had just gotten out as well.
Something about Dean’s body language told Cas that he was about to make a move, and as much as Cas would love to makeout against Baby again, they’ve already sabotaged their relationship enough for one night.
“Here,” He handed Dean the keys, keeping his face neutral.
Dean seemed to notice his lack of reciprocation, and took a step back. Guards going up once again.
“Thank you,” Cas cleared his throat, “Thank you for inviting me, I mean. I had a great time.”
“Yeah,” Dean replied in a low voice, his eyes looking down at the keys in his hands.
“I’m um, I’m not sure when my next day off will be, but perhaps we could plan to hang out then?”
Dean shrugged, “Yeah, whatever.”
Cas was about to ask what was wrong when he decided against it. He knew what was wrong with Dean, he was feeling rejected. And although it pained Cas to make him feel that way, he just couldn’t bear to blur any more lines tonight.
“Dean,” Stepping closer, Cas clasped his hands over Dean’s.
Instead of backing off, Dean softened, looking at him with a renewed hope.
“Please don’t think for one second that I don’t want you. I always want you.” Dean swallowed. “But we need to…talk—sober, this time. And I think that doing anything more tonight will do more harm than good, do you understand?”
“Yeah…” Dean whispered reluctantly.
Cas squeezed his hands and let go. Part of him was aching to hug Dean, to make sure he knew how much he cared. But even touching his hands had adrenaline pumping through his veins, a hug could be the thing that prompted Cas to invite him inside.
“Goodnight, Dean.”
“‘Night, Cas.” Dean breathed out softly.
Cas began walking up his steps, fighting the urge to turn around and run back into Dean’s arms. When he reached his door, he did spare one more look in his friend's direction.
He was still standing next to the car with his keys in hand.
Sympathy swelled in Cas’s heart. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
Dean looked up with dewy eyes, and nodded, “Yeah, Cas.”
—
Cas had work tomorrow, and he should be getting to sleep, but no matter how long he laid in his bed with his eyes closed, he just couldn’t. Every time he got close to the brink of sleep, the reminder that he just had sex with Dean—not with his sub—but with Dean, kept popping in his head.
It was making sleep impossible. That, and the fact that it was only 9 o’clock at night probably had something to do with it as well.
Since he wasn’t going to bed anytime soon, Cas opted to have a late night snack instead. He walked to his kitchen and pulled some trail mix from the cabinet. While munching on the sweet and salty mix, his phone began buzzing from its place on the island counter.
Who the hell would be calling him at 9 at night?
He picked up his phone to see that the number was from an unknown caller…from New York. Could it be Gabe
No…Gabe would text him before he’d call.
It couldn’t…it couldn’t be his parents? Right?
Hesitantly, Cas slid upwards on the green button and raised the device to his ear. He decided to let the caller speak first.
“Hello? Is this Castiel Novak?”
That didn’t sound like anyone he knew.
“Y-yes, who is this?”
“My name is Julia, I’m with The Mount Sinai Hospital here in New York City. I’m just reaching out about your transfer request.”
“My transfer request?”
“Yes, Sir. The inquiry was made in January of last year?”
Cas thought back to a year and a half ago. That was around the same time he started with NKCH.
Even after he’d told his parents, to their faces, that he wanted nothing to do with their business, they still couldn’t leave him alone. And so he moved. The first college he went to was in Pennsylvania, then he started med school and his residency in Ohio, and finally he ended up in Kansas. When he’d been accepted into their residency program to finish out his last two years, he’d simply been desperate to finish the program away from his family—excluding Gabe, of course. He figured getting as far away as possible to a place they’d never look for him, would be his best bet.
Of course, that was before he realized how different the midwest was from the bustling east coast cities he was used to. After the first month, he was miserable.
Until he met Dean.
Dean was the only one who could make him see the benefits of the slower life, the simpler things. He changed him fundamentally on so many levels, and that’s why he decided to stay.
The ‘inquiry’ they were talking about was a request to transfer back to NYC after his first month at North Kansas City Hospital. It was pitiful, he knew, but at the time he was desperate.
Now it felt like so much has happened since then, everything that he has dreamed of having in life was now completely different.
He’d honestly forgotten about the request he made last year, they never got back to him before, so why now?
His mind flashed back to yesterday evening.
Dick Roman.
But how would he even know about this?
It’s now like he’s in charge of who can come and go in the hospital. Right?
Uneasiness settled in Castiel’s stomach.
“What about it?”
“We are accepting your application, Sir, and would like to make an offer.”
“I um,” He cleared his throat, “I’m not sure I’m interested anymore. I still have six months of my residency left before—”
“We’re aware, Dr. Novak. We would like to make an offer for you to either finish your residency there, or with us, and then become a certified attending physician here at our hospital.”
Cas thought for a few seconds, “I’m sorry, I-I’m just curious, why are you just reaching out to me now?”
The line was suspiciously silent before the woman finally responded, “I’m not really at liberty to say, Sir, but we would be offering a generous salary with benefits of course. We’ve also already had discussions with NKCH, and they would be willing to speed up the process of your last few months and certification if you agree to transfer here afterwards.”
Now that was appealing. Anyone who worked in the medical field knew that if there was a chance to shorten the time you had to complete a step of your career, you should take it. But moving? He wasn’t sure if he could do that. Maybe he did miss his old home, the things and places he was used to, except now…
Now, home was wherever Dean was.
He couldn’t imagine being so far away from him, not being able to see him whenever he wanted.
Then again, what kind of future could he have with Dean anyway? If they talked, and Dean told him once and for all that they couldn’t be anything more than just fuck buddies, then this job opportunity was probably a good thing, despite how sketchy the offer might be.
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course, Dr. Novak. You have 30 days to decide. You may simply give us a call back on this number to let us know your decision.”
“Thank you.”
“Have a good evening, Sir.”
“You too.”
Cas let out a deep breath as he let his phone drop to the counter.
Instantly, he felt the urge to call Dean and tell him everything. At the same time, he knew that was a bad idea. If Dean knew, it might affect their talk.
Yes, he needs to keep this to himself for now. Once he figured out what they were, then he could make a decision.
Notes:
So, how are we feeling? :3
We're definitely getting closer to the final climaxes of the story! (pun intended hehe) Hopefully I can start posting more frequently, but we'll see.
Let me know what you think please!
Chapter 14
Summary:
- Switching POV's
- BDSM scene / smut
- TW: car accident
Notes:
Hey, so it's been a while! Life has been crazy recently, so sorry I haven't been updating as regularly. I also have another hobby which is editing. And recently, my inspiration and motivation has been poured into that which is why I haven't had a lot left for writing. But I'm back, and motivated again since we are getting close to the final chapters! I have everything mapped out and I'm hoping to finish by the end of the year at the latest, but we'll see!
Enjoy!
(Btw, these are my spn/destiel edit accounts if you want to check them out! Tiktok - @fayeditz / Instagram - @fayeditzfx / Twitter - @fayeditzz)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Dean’s POV)
Dean was in a good mood.
Yesterday had been amazing—hanging with Charlie was always fun, but bringing Cas along had made it even better. And, of course, everything that happened after they left Charlie’s house certainly added to the enjoyment.
Usually, Dean hated having sex in Baby. Sure, it could be sexy, but cleaning the car afterwards was a lot less sexy, not to mention it was downright uncomfortable. But last night? Dean hadn’t even noticed any sort of discomfort. Even after they were caught by the strange, yet kind, police officer, Dean felt nothing but happy and content.
It seemed that same high had carried into today, making him far less irritable than usual as he walked into work.
His feelings were similar to the ones he had after he first kissed Cas on his couch. Benny had immediately noticed the energetic pep in his step the next morning at work, and Dean was sure it’d be the same today.
Scening with Cas as his Dom was amazing, but being with just Cas, that was a whole different experience, and Dean knew it showed in the way he lit up afterwards. Of course, there was that pesky detail of boundaries, and how he and Cas had completely crossed any and all of them when they fucked last night.
Shit—Dean was pretty sure he’d even moaned Cas’s actual name at one point.
Oh well, best not to dwell on that right now.
Right now, he was happy, and that’s all that mattered.
The only thing that could damper his spirits today was that Gordon and Ruby were scheduled to work. It’s been a while since Dean has had to work with them, and it definitely never got any easier. Thankfully, he always had Benny with him as a buffer.
The frigid temperature of the station made chills spread over Dean’s exposed arms as he stepped through the bay entrance—Bobby and his goddamn hot flashes. Benny wasn’t around, unfortunately, but at least Gordon and Ruby weren’t either.
After dropping his stuff off in the lockers, Dean walked through the dimly-lit hallways back to the lounge room to get some coffee before he started the day. He could already smell it brewing, which meant someone was in the kitchen. He hoped it was Bobby.
As soon as the kitchen came into view, Dean’s shoulders slumped—it was Gordon.
Turns out Dean didn’t need coffee as badly as he thought, so he decided to head into the bay for a rig check instead, hoping Gordon wouldn’t notice him since his back was turned.
To his surprise, he did make it back out to the bay without Gordon saying anything. However, the universe couldn’t give him a complete break, since Ruby was also in the bay, probably doing a rig check for her and Gordon.
Dean winced as his boots echoed on the concrete floor, he was praying Ruby would just keep to herself, or even better, not realize he was there. But as soon as he slipped the keys into the back doors of the truck, Ruby’s steeley eyes shot in Dean’s direction.
“Well if it isn’t the golden boy,” her voice cut through the silence, laced with her usual snark.
Dean let out a slow breath, willing himself to ignore her. He climbed into the rig, his back still turned as he began his usual routine of supply checking. The sound of footsteps approaching behind him made Dean cringe, just ignore her, he thought.
But Ruby wasn’t one to be ignored.
“Come on Winchester,” She continued, leaning against the side of his ambulance, “What’re you gonna tell me I’m doing wrong today, huh?”
This was their thing, always nitpicking each other. Kind of like siblings except without any of the unconditional, familial love behind it.
She wasn’t entirely wrong, Dean was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to routine. Benny was great about letting him do his thing, even letting him take the lead if he felt it was appropriate. But Ruby, on the other hand? She couldn’t take any criticism. And unfortunately, Dean loved to give it.
His jaw tightened as he felt her eyes boring into his back, waiting for a reaction. He grabbed the inventory sheet, eyes scanning over the list. He really didn’t need to look at it anymore considering he knew this rig like the back of his hand, but he needed something to focus on besides the annoying bitch behind him. Eventually the words started to blur as his irritation grew.
“Not in the mood today, Ruby,” He muttered, trying to keep his tone even.
“Oh please,” She scoffed, “You live for this crap, don’t you? Being everyone’s favorite, Singer’s favorite, Benny’s favorite. Must be exhausting being so perfect all the damn time.”
Dean clenched his fists around the clipboard, his patience wearing thin. “If you have something to say, just say it, otherwise, back off.”
Ruby’s smirk widened, clearly pleased that she managed to get under his skin, “Just sayin’ Winchester, we all know you’re not as perfect as you say you are. One day you’ll screw up and I’ll be the first to say ‘I told you so.’”
Dean opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of someone approaching made him pause. He glanced up to see Benny strolling into the bay, his easy going demeanor a stark contrast to the tension hanging in the air.
“Morning, y’all,” Benny drawled, his presence instantly diffusing some of the animosity.
“Thank God,” Dean muttered under his breath, shooting Benny a grateful look before going back to his checklist.
Benny looked between Dean and Ruby, raising an eyebrow. “Y’all playing nice?”
“As always,” Ruby said sweetly, though the bite in her tone was unmistakable.
“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, finishing up the last of the checks. He handed the clipboard to Benny, who took it with a nod.
Ruby shrugged, pushing off from the ambulance. “Whatever you say, champ. I’ll leave you to your boy scout routine.”
Dean watched her amble off, biting back a retort. As soon as she was out of earshot, he turned to Benny, “She is so damn annoying.”
Benny chuckled, nodding in agreement. “That she is. But don’t let her get to you. Ain’t worth it.”
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. She just… knows how to push all my buttons.”
Before Benny could respond, the overhead speakers crackled to life.
“Dispatch to MMT—Unit Alpha 107 and 109 needed in Eastwood Hills. MVA on I-435. Details have been sent to the monitor.”
Dean and Benny exchanged a look, the previous tension forgotten. “Time to roll,” Benny said, his tone serious as they both headed for the front of the truck.
As he started the engine, he couldn’t help but glance in the direction Ruby had gone. Whatever their differences, they’d have to put them aside—at least for this call.
—
The sound of sirens—theirs, as well as fire trucks—could be heard from all directions as they pulled out onto the interstate about a mile away from the accident.
Dean hated car accidents. Of course, he hated most situations they had to deal with, but car accidents had a tendency to be especially devastating. This one seemed to be no different as smoke could be seen climbing into the air from where the accident had occurred.
A fire truck, some police cars, and another ambulance were already on the scene when their two rigs arrived. Benny quickly hopped out, followed by Dean. Instantly, Benny took control of the situation, asking for a report from the two EMT’s already there, as well as the firefighters.
This was a multi-vehicle accident involving two cars. One was barely even recognizable as a car as it had caught on fire and burned almost all the way through the front, leaving nothing left but a burnt and melted frame.
The driver of that vehicle, a pale, elderly lady, was already out and being assessed. Thankfully, she had been helped by a passerby to get out of the car before it was fully engulfed in flames. She only had a broken collar bone and had some light abrasions.
The passengers in the other vehicle weren’t as lucky.
Although the car itself didn’t look as bad, the three passengers inside, a mother and her two children, a four month old and three year old, were trapped under the bent metal doors and roof.
The four month old’s cry shrilled through the air, making Dean’s heart clench.
“We need to get these kids out now.” Benny instructed, the firefighters already setting to work to cut the doors off.
Benny walked up to the driver’s side, the mother’s arm was bent underneath the door, probably broken. Dean stepped beside Benny.
“Hey Mama,” Benny said comfortingly.
The mother’s sobs quieted down for just a few seconds, “Please—please get my—my babies–please!”
“We’re gonna get ‘em sweetheart, don’t you worry. Now can you tell me where you’re hurting?”
The mother, obviously in shock and pain, shook her head and wailed. Eventually, she was able to utter a pained “M–My arm…I can’t move—Oh god—please help us…” Another cry wracked through her body. Dean could see she was also cut badly on her head as blood ran down her face, broken shards of glass sticking out of her dark curly hair.
“Alright honey, we’re gonna get you out. I just need you to breathe, okay?”
She nodded her head shakily, “O-okay…”
Benny stood up from where he’d been leaning down to talk to the mother and pointed to the back seat, “As soon as they get those open, I want you to evaluate that baby.”
Dean gave a short nod and walked around to the other side of the vehicle. He could see the baby strapped securely in her carseat. She seemed fine, just distressed, but Dean could only truly be able to tell once she was out.
Gently, he stuck a hand through the gap of the mangled vehicle and caressed the soft curls of the baby's head. “Hey there, sweetie. It’s gonna be okay. I know—I know—”
Ruby was on the other side of the car trying her best to do the same for the crying three year old. Unfortunately, kids weren’t her expertise, but she seemed to be helping some, as the little girl’s cries dwindled down to sniffles.
Eventually, the firefighters were able to make enough incisions to carefully lift the bent doors away from the children. Dean immediately set to work getting the small child out of her carseat and into his arms. His hands cupped her bottom and the back of her head. She was so tiny, it was a miracle that she seemed virtually unharmed.
Dean hadn’t held many babies in his life, but he did remember holding Sam as a baby. Of course, his hands were a lot smaller then, so six month old Sammy was bigger to him. Now though, it felt like he was holding a doll. It felt like any sudden movement would break her, so Dean made sure to move slowly as he walked back to the rig.
Conveniently enough, the baby was wearing a onesie that had Zuri printed on the front, so he guessed that was probably her name, “Hey there, Zuri. I know—we’re gonna make it all better, I promise.”
The child continued to cry, which was a good sign, in a way. Crying meant she could feel pain, so any sort of spinal or nerve issues could mostly be ruled out. Still holding her against his chest, Dean reached into a compartment at the top and got out a blanket, wrapping it around her.
He sat her down in a car seat attached to the seat at the front of the rig and checked for any other major issues. As he was checking her arms and legs for any scratches or injuries, Dean felt the rig dip as another person got in. He turned his head to see Gordon climbing in the truck.
“What are you doing?” Dean asked coldly, his focus going back to Zuri.
“You need help?” His tone was unreadable, like usual.
“No,” Dean responded plainly, “I got this. Go help Ruby or somethin.”
Gordon remained unmoving.
“Are you sure?” He finally said, inching closer to Dean.
Dean twisted his body so his hands were still holding onto Zuri but he was looking up at Gordon, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Still staring at him with his weird gaze, Gordon tilted his head.
Deciding any injuries Zuri had could wait until the hospital to be treated, Dean stood to his feet and scowled at Gordon.
“What is your problem?” Dean grunted.
“Just trying to help.” There was nothing compassionate or helpful about the way Gordon was looking at him.
“Okay, whatever.” He turned back around to the baby and made sure she was secured in her car seat, then pushed past Gordon to help the rest of the team.
As he was passing, Gordon let his arm brush into Dean’s. Dean jerked it back, quickly retreating away from the truck, only turning his head back far enough to call out, “Stay with the baby.”
Leaving that creep with the Baby wasn't ideal, but if Gordon wasn't gonna help the rest of the team, then Dean had to. Thankfully he had a clear view of the back of the rig from where the accident was, so he could at least keep an eye on them.
He jogged up to Benny who was helping to direct the other paramedics and EMS team members to get the mother out of the car. She was groaning in pain, but there was little to be done about that right now, the most important thing was to get her to the hospital
As soon as they had her on the stretcher, Dean tapped Benny on the shoulder.
His friend spun around, “Hey, how’s the kid?”
“Ruby’s checking the three-year old. I think she’s fine, just a little bruised up maybe. Same with the baby, I couldn’t find any external injuries. Gordon's with her right now.”
“Alright, good job Winchester. Make sure Ruby puts the toddler in the same rig with the baby and mother. We want to keep them together.”
Dean nodded, and walked over to Gordon and Ruby’s truck.
“How is she?”
The toddler was lying on the bench seat with a brace on her neck as Ruby held an ice pack up to her face. She was crying, and repeating a singular word between her sobs.
“I put her in a brace just in case, but she can move and feel everything so she should be okay. Her face is swollen, hence the ice pack.” Ruby’s lips tightened and she leaned more towards Dean, “I can’t get her to stop crying though.”
“Here, let me,” Dean reached out and took the ice pack, moving into Ruby’s spot. “Hey, Gordon is with the baby in our rig. Tell him to bring her here, we’re gonna keep them together.”
Ruby nodded and left.
Dean turned back to the three-year old who was still crying and babbling.
“Hi sweetheart, can you tell me your name?”
After a few hiccups, she whimpered out, “L-l-lila.”
“Hello, Lila. We’re gonna take good care of you, okay? Everything’s gonna be alright.”
“B-b-baby.” Lila cried out between sobs.
“Baby Zuri?” Dean tilted his head, “Your sister’s okay, honey. She’ll be here in a second.”
“No—n-no…” Lila shook her head.
What could she be talking about?
“Dolly!” She finally managed to get out.
“You have a dolly in the car?”
“Yes…” She sniffled.
“Okay, I’ll send someone to get it, okay honey?”
The girl nodded, and about that same time, Gordon walked up with the car seat in hand.
“Put her in the seat,” Dean pointed behind himself. After Gordon properly secured the baby to the seat, Dean quickly added, “Go check the car’s back seat, see if you can find a doll.”
“A doll?” Gordon asked sardonically.
“Yeah, a doll. Now will you hurry up?”
Gordon shook his head but didn’t put up anymore of a fight. After he was gone from the ambulance, Dean went back to comforting the girl. “He’s gone to get your doll, sweetie. Don’t worry.”
The girl sniffled some more before crying out, “I want mommy!”
“Mommy will—” Before he could finish his sentence, Benny and the other EMT’s rolled up to the ambulance with the mother on the stretcher.
“Dean, you’re good with these kids. You okay to stay with em?” Benny asked.
He nodded, “Yeah.”
As they were loading the crying mother into the ambulance, Gordon returned with the little girl’s doll and handed it to Dean. Still unsettled by their earlier encounter, Dean decided against thanking him, or acknowledging him at all, and instead turned to the girl who was now smiling weakly.
“Is this your dolly?”
“Yes!” She squealed, her nose and eyes still red from tears. Now mostly consoled, Dean turned to the mother who was still groaning in pain.
“Hey Sweetheart, you’re doing great. We’re three minutes from the hospital, okay?”
The mother gave a shaky nod, “M-my babies?”
“They’re here Mama,” Dean sat down on the bench seat with Lila, and placed a comforting hand on the mother’s forearm, “They’re okay.”
“Thank god…” She whispered out.
Dean sat down on the bench and rubbed Zuri’s head, “Just hold on a little longer and will get you the help you need, okay?”
The mother squeaked out a pitiful confirming sound and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
Instead of going to NKCH like they usually did, they went to Riverbend Memorial Hospital since it was closer by. It was a lot smaller than NKCH but it was still a very capable facility, and Dean was sure that the mother and her children would be well taken care of.
He was a tiny bit sad he wouldn’t be seeing Cas—especially after that weird interaction he had with Gordon. He shivered at the thought of having to talk to that creep anymore. Seeing Cas would really help him feel less freaked out, but there would probably be more chances today.
Once Ruby, who was driving the ambulance, along with Benny and Gordon who had been following close behind, pulled into the ER bay, Dean began gathering the two kids. The baby cooed as he picked her up in her carseat, and Lila was starting to get antsy again as the doors opened and Gordon and Benny pulled out a second stretcher for her to lay on.
The child grabbed onto Dean’s leg, “I don’t want to go,” she cried.
Holding the baby with one hand, Dean bent down and placed the other on her head, “It’s gonna be okay Lila. Everyone is here to help you, but I need you to be brave, okay?”
Comforted by Dean’s words, Lila loosened her grip and nodded as much as she could with the brace around her neck.
Benny was now in the back of the rig, working with Gordon to get Talia—Benny had called the mother—out of the ambulance so they could put Lila on a stretcher. Talia was mostly unconscious now, shock and pain causing her to black out. Benny kept giving her reassurances though, and eventually they were out of the rig and rolling her into the hospital.
Ruby quickly brought the stretcher in the rig and helped to get the, now crying, three year-old onto it.
Lila reached out, her small hands grasping for Dean.
Dean held on tight to the small fingers, “I know sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna make you feel better.”
This time, his attempts at comforting the child were in vain, and she continued to sob. Ruby threw him a sympathetic look as they began pushing her out of the ambulance.
Once they were inside, several nurses flocked around them.
Dean reluctantly handed over the baby and watched as Zuri and Lila were taken away. He knew they were in good hands, but part of him felt responsible for them, like he had to see out their care until the end. Realistically, he knew that wasn’t possible though, and it was inevitable that he and Benny would be called again, so he waved sadly at Lila as she was rolled away and turned back to the exit.
As Dean walked back to the ambulances, he could see Gordon leaning against the door of his truck, looking at Dean with that same unnerving stare. Dean cringed and looked away. He was getting more fed up by the minute.
Gordon had always been weird, especially around him, but it seemed like lately it was just nonstop creepy behavior.
Before Dean could go over and punch the sicko in the face, Benny came back out with the truck keys in hand. Dean took the keys from Benny and jumped in the driver's seat.
Usually after they came back from a call where no one was seriously injured, Dean was chipper and excited. He loved when he actually did his job right and saved people, but this time he just couldn’t find it in himself to be happy. He remained silent the entire drive home, the unsettling weight of Gordon’s gaze gnawing at him, leaving an uneasy tension that he couldn't shake.
Benny seemed to notice his off behavior.
“Everything good, Dean? You look a little wound up.”
“I’m fine.” He tried shaking off the matter.
“If it’s about the call, Dean, you did a damn good job. Nothin’ to worry about.”
Dean sighed, “It’s not that—I mean, thanks—but it’s just…”
Benny raised an expectant brow in the pause of silence.
“Nothing.”
“Sure,” Benny half laughed.
It’s not that Dean didn’t want to talk to Benny about it, he just didn’t want to seem like a bitch. As disturbing as Gordon was, he never touched Dean, never even tried. And if he had, Dean could sure as hell defend his own.
Just like in California. If Gordon made one wrong move, he’d end up on the floor with a dislocated jaw, just like that other guy.
What made it worse was that Gordon hadn’t technically crossed any lines yet. It left Dean stuck, pretending everything was fine, forced to endure the creepiness without being able to do a damn thing.
And Dean hated that.
He just didn’t want Benny to think that Dean was scared of the guy. But then again, Benny was one of his closest friends, and it’s not like he would see it that way. Besides, it was probably good for Dean to get his advice on the matter.
“It’s just…” Dean searched for the right words, “It’s Gordon, man…”
“Gordon?”
“Yeah. Remember when I told you about that time he cornered me in the locker room?”
Benny nodded thoughtfully.
“He’s been doing shit like that again. Not…like…anything crazy. Just weird, y’know?”
“You confronted him about it?”
“Not really, I'm trying to avoid him as much as possible.”
“Well, I’d say either you can tell him to back off, or you could get Bobby to do it.”
“Yeah,” Dean chewed on his lip.
—
Dean remained in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Thankfully, there weren’t too many calls where he had to work with Ruby and Gordon, but there was a lot of downtime, which meant that everyone hung out in the station together. Absolutely refusing to be in a room with Gordon longer than he had to, Dean decided to stay in one of the offices and do some paperwork he needed to catch up on anyway.
At the end of the day, Dean and Benny were coming back from their last call, a potential heart attack. They walked into the station, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare that matched Dean’s mood. Benny gave him a sidelong glance as they headed toward the lockers, clearly sensing his tension but staying quiet, which Dean was grateful for.
His mind was already churning with thoughts of every other time Gordon had made him uncomfortable, lingering too long in his personal space, making offhand comments that were just shy of inappropriate, the way his eyes would follow him like a predator stalking prey. It had been easier to brush off before, to convince himself it was just in his head, but today had pushed him over the edge. The sight of Gordon standing in the ambulance, eyes crawling over Dean while he was taking care of the baby, had been too much.
As they reached the lockers, Dean turned to his friend, “I’m gonna go talk to Bobby,” he muttered, not really asking for advice but letting Benny know where he was headed.
“Good luck, cher,” Benny replied, clapping a heavy hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Hope the old man’s in a listenin’ mood.”
Dean forced a weak smile in response and headed down the hall to Bobby’s office, the familiar scent of coffee and old carpet filling the air. He knocked on the door, a quick and sharp rap, before pushing it open.
“Got a minute, Bobby?” Dean asked as he stepped inside.
Bobby looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk, his tired eyes narrowing slightly. “Sure. Shut the door.”
Dean closed the door and sat down slowly, suddenly feeling the weight of what he was about to say.
“So,” Bobby took a sip of his no-doubt lukewarm coffee, “What’s this about?”
“It’s about Gordon,” Dean began, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “He… He’s been acting weird around me. Creepy. It’s not just today—although today was bad—but it’s been happening for a while. The way he looks at me, the way he’s always lingering, making comments. I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s getting to the point where I don’t feel okay working with him.”
Bobby leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple as if warding off a headache. “Damnit,” He grumbled, then sighed before looking back up at Dean, “I hate hearing this, and I hate even more to ask, but… you got any proof? Anything concrete? I can’t exactly throw the book at him without it.”
Dean felt his heart sink. He knew Bobby was right, but it didn’t make the situation any easier. “No, nothing that’d hold up as evidence, just a gut feeling and the stuff he’s said and done.” Dean shook his head, “But it’s definitely enough that I don’t trust the guy,” he added.
Bobby nodded slowly, the lines on his face deepening with concern. “I believe you, kid. I really do. But you know how it is—without solid proof, there’s only so much I can do. I can have a talk with him, let him know he’s on thin ice, but unless he steps outta line in a way that’s clear-cut… my hands are tied.”
Dean clenched his jaw, the sour taste of defeat already spreading, “So, that’s it? Just a talk?”
“I know it ain’t what you want to hear,” Bobby said, his voice low and apologetic. “But I’ll keep an eye on him, and you come straight to me if he so much as breathes wrong.”
Dean nodded, standing up to leave, “Yeah, thanks, Bobby. Appreciate it.”
As he left the office, he could feel anger and desperation building inside him. He felt exposed, vulnerable, knowing that Gordon was still here, still lurking. To his relief, Benny was waiting for him by the exit, a questioning look in his eyes.
“Bobby said he’d talk to him,” Dean said with a shrug, trying to hide the frustration in his voice. “But that’s about it.”
“Figures,” Benny replied, his tone sympathetic, “You headin’ home?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Benny clapped him on the shoulder, “Take it easy, Cher.”
“You too.”
As Benny walked out the door and to his truck, Dean stayed at the door. He didn’t actually want to go home and just be left alone with him and his thoughts. That was the last thing he needed right now.
Visiting Cas crossed his mind. Maybe seeing him would help ease the tension that was tightening around his chest. Cas always had a way of grounding him, making things seem less overwhelming.
Dean glanced at the clock. Cas was probably working, though Dean wasn’t sure what time his shift was. It was a toss-up—Cas might be home, or he might not. But taking the chance felt better than facing the quiet emptiness of his apartment.
With a resigned sigh, Dean began walking to his car. It was worth a shot.
—
It took little time to get to Cas’s house. As Dean was pulling in, he noticed his friend’s car was missing.
Great.
Well, it was possible Cas had left the door unlocked, he could just wait for him to get home.
Yeah, that was a good idea.
Luckily, the door was unlocked, so Dean stepped inside, the quiet of the house immediately washing over him.
It was the kind of stillness that could only be found in a place you felt safe. Cas’s place had become that for him over the past few months—a second home without him even realizing it.
He walked through the familiar hallway, his boots making soft thuds on the hardwood floors. Everything in this house had its place, from the weird trinkets on the shelves to the blankets Cas always folded neatly on the couch, and somehow, Dean had fit right into it. It wasn’t just a place he crashed after a long shift or after their scenes. It was comfort, routine—Cas’s space had started to feel like his space, too.
He spent so much time here that the thought had crossed his mind more than once—maybe he should just move in?
Shaking his head with a chuckle, as if to dislodge the notion from his mind, Dean walked into the kitchen. He knew he needed a moment to settle himself, and grabbing a snack always helped with that.
The fridge hummed lowly in the otherwise silent kitchen, only adding to the empty feeling of the house. Dean opened the dark wooden cabinets and glanced over the shelves. Cas kept more of an ingredient pantry than a snack pantry, but Dean knew there had to be something hidden away. It did occur to him that there were snacks in the playroom, but for some reason it made him feel icky to go in there when Cas wasn’t here. Plus, those needed to be saved for aftercare.
After a few minutes of rummaging, Dean’s hand finally closed around a box of forgotten chocolate-covered granola bars in the back of one of the cabinets. He grinned as he pulled a couple out, almost feeling like he’d successfully won a treasure hunt. With the bars tucked under one arm, he snagged a beer from the fridge before heading to the couch.
Landing on the sofa with a plop, he snatched the remote and turned the TV on to some random soap opera. He opened one of the bars and began munching, the familiar taste of honey, oats, and chocolate making him smile. Cas gave these to him a lot after scening, it was kind of becoming their signature aftercare snack.
He looked down at the wrapper and felt a strange tug at his heart, then he leaned back into the couch. His eyes drifted lazily over the screen, but his mind was elsewhere.
Funny how something so simple—an old granola bar, a quiet house—could start to feel like home. They’ve been doing this so much now, so often, that they had routines, habits that came naturally. Being here, being with Cas, had woven itself into the fabric of Dean’s life so tightly that when he thought about it, it didn’t seem so crazy to imagine moving in with him. It was almost like he already had. This place was home in all the ways that mattered. And not just the comfort of the house, or the snacks, or even the memories of what they’ve done here.
Dean had gotten used to being with Cas all the time now.
This little form of self-therapy had changed into something a lot more addicting. Now, he was running to Cas whenever he wanted to, whether he needed it or not, simply because he could.
It was scary to think of losing this. Not only this…dynamic, but just Cas in general.
The truth was, he was in love with Cas long before he ever kissed him. Maybe he never fully admitted it to himself, maybe he did, but the point was, Cas was his home.
Cas was the only person that Dean could fully be himself around, the person that Dean truly wanted to spend all his time with. Even if he could never touch him again, even if the guy finally got some sense knocked into him and saw Dean for what he truly was—not worth it. Even with all of that, Dean couldn’t stand the thought of not being near him, not being able to see him.
That was why this whole long nightmarish loop of avoidance and procrastination kept happening, because he was scared—no, terrified of losing the one person in the whole world who understood him better than anyone else. The one person he loved more than anyone else
And that’s just what sceneing has been for Dean recently, a tool for avoidance. And as much as he felt guilty for admitting it, he wanted it right now.
It was a way to escape the heavy thoughts about their future and the shitty day he’d had. The weight of it all was pressing down on him, and he could feel himself shutting down. He couldn’t let Cas come home and see him like that.
Maybe instead of letting his mind spiral, he should focus on something more immediate, something that could lift his spirits. A thought sparked in his mind: why not surprise Cas? He could get ready, he knew exactly how to entice his Dom. It would be a great way to distract himself from the lingering shadows of the day.
Dean pushed off the couch, a determined smile tugging at his lips. He moved with a new sense of purpose, thinking about how he’d surprise Cas. As he walked over to where his collar was held, the anticipation of Cas walking through the door to find him naked and waiting filled him with a hopeful excitement, chasing away the lingering worries.
—
Dean’s excitement dulled after an hour of waiting…then two hours…and three…
He hadn’t exactly asked Cas when he’d be home, or even warned him that he’d be here waiting—Dean guessed the Impala parked in the driveway would have to suffice as enough warning—but it was nearly 9:30 at night and Cas was still AWOL. He couldn’t help but feel a little bitter, even if it was unjustified.
Waiting around for Cas was becoming tiresome and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. Although the house was a comfortable temperature, being naked for almost three hours without anything to raise his body temperature was starting to become uncomfortable.
He had played with himself, obviously, but he could only get close to the edge and force himself to stop so many times before it just hurt. So instead of kneeling at the door like he’d planned originally, Dean decided to take a bit more sinister path. He laid lazily over the couch, spreading his legs lewdly and palming himself.
Oh yeah, Cas was gonna lose it when he walked in.
Not just because Dean was naked, but also the casualness of it. Dean’s never acted like a brat during their scenes, maybe today’s the day he changes that.
Around 10 pm, Dean saw the flash of headlights beam through the window shades as a car pulled into the driveway. He bit his lip in anticipation. It seemed like an eternity before he could hear the sound of keys being inserted into the lock. And then Cas was walking in, all sweat and messy hair, gray scrubs clinging to him. He was every fantasy Dean’s ever had.
Yeah, Dean was literally never getting over this man.
As soon as Cas entered and saw Dean sprawled out naked on the couch, his eyes widened in stunned disbelief. His mouth parted slightly, and for a moment, he stood frozen at the threshold, his gaze flicking over Dean’s exposed form with a mix of shock and something more primal.
“What the hell…?” Cas breathed, his tone a mixture of surprise and confusion. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to process the sight before him. His face flushed a deep shade of red, contrasting sharply with the exhaustion evident in his eyes.
Although Cas knew he was here because of his car, he definitely hadn’t been expecting him to be naked. His initial shock gave way to a more controlled demeanor as he took in a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone now firmer, though still edged with the remnants of his surprise.
“What’s it look like?” Dean spread his legs even more obscenely, letting them fall carelessly off the front of the couch.
At first, Dean was certain that Cas would play along. His anticipation was palpable as his body tensed in expectation.
But as the seconds ticked by and Cas remained silent, Dean’s excitement turned into confusion. The playful atmosphere he’d hoped for evaporated. Cas’s eyes darted briefly over Dean, then he turned and walked past him with a stiff, deliberate stride.
Dean’s jaw dropped, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. The sound of Cas’s footsteps grew fainter as he entered the kitchen, leaving Dean feeling exposed and humiliated.
Was he ignoring him?
Oh no, he did not do all this just to get fucking ignored.
Rising to his feet, Dean sauntered around the couch until he was leaning against the back of it, staring at Cas with a wicked smile. His body was fully exposed, cock lying against his thigh dribbling out precum.
Try ignoring this, he thought to himself proudly.
After setting his things on the island, Cas took a few seconds, probably to regain his composure, then he turned around and crossed his arms. Dean loved whenever he did that, it made his broad shoulders and chest look even bigger than they already were.
“What are you doing, Dean?” He repeated.
“Just relaxing,” Dean continued to smile and leaned back further onto the couch.
“If you want to scene,” Cas took a few calculated steps forward, “Why aren’t you where you’re supposed to be, hm?”
He wasn’t really sure why. All he knew was that he wanted things to be different tonight, and if that meant he needed to act out, so be it.
“Dunno,” he shrugged, “didn’t feel like it.”
“Is that so?”
Licking his lips, Dean snorted a chuckle. “So.”
Cas let his arms fall back down to his sides, “Dean…what’s wrong?”
The question took Dean by surprise.
“Nothing,” he shrugged, looking down.
“Dean, you can’t lie to me. This isn’t like you, and I’m not going to do anything with you until you tell me what’s the matter.”
Well, this was not how this was supposed to go. Dean didn’t wanna talk about his bitch ass problems, he just wanted Cas to make him forget about everything, put him back in a good mood.
“I said,” Dean straightened his shoulders, “nothing’s wrong.”
Cas exhaled deeply and nodded, “Aright, then. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine Dean, but I’m not having sex with you. It won’t solve anything.”
Huffing in annoyance, Dean crossed his arms, “Says who?”
“Says me.”
“And why should I listen to you?” Dean didn’t mean for it to come across so mean, but the look on Cas’s face as soon as the words left his mouth forced him to look away with guilt.
His friend’s voice was hoarse when he responded, “I promised you, as your Dom, that I would always make your wellbeing my priority, even if you don’t believe the decisions I make are for your own good.”
Dean blushed in shame. He wasn’t used to someone caring for him like this. If he’d gone to Benny, or hooked up with someone he met at a bar, they wouldn’t take a single second to analyze Dean’s behavior, to get to the root of the issue. It made Dean’s heart ache, the way that Cas knew him so well, cared for him so well. Even if Dean still felt like it was stupid to debrief about his sucky day before having sex, he trusted Cas that it was the best thing for him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He didn’t look up until he felt a hand rest on his shoulder and bring him into Cas’s embrace. They hugged for a few minutes. And yeah, Dean did actually need this. He sighed into the warmth of Cas’s chest and let himself be held.
Cas gently kissed the side of Dean’s head, then stepped back so he could look into his eyes, “Sorry I know I smell.”
Dean smiled and shook his head, “I dunno…s’not bad. You just smell like you.”
“I would hope my usual scent isn’t antiseptic, sweat, and bad coffee."
“Nah, just…you. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not bad though, you smell good.”
“Thank you, Dean,” Cas chuckled. “Now, would you tell me what’s bothering you?”
The younger man sighed and let his arms fall back to his sides, “It’s stupid.”
“Your feelings aren’t stupid,” Cas insisted.
“Yeah, I knew you would say that.”
His friend’s forehead lifted as he waited for Dean to continue.
“Do you remember me telling you about Gordon? Walker?”
Cas thought for a few seconds then began nodding slowly, “Yes…I believe so. Was he the one that you had a strange feeling about?”
“Yeah. He’s always acted really weird around me—around everyone, I guess—but with me it’s more creepy. I don’t know…”
“Did he do something?”
“Kinda—”
Cas balled his fists, his back straightening up stiffly.
“Nothing bad, Cas. I mean, nothing like super bad, at least. He just…kinda…cornered me again.”
His explanation did little to calm Cas down.
“What did he do, Dean?” Cas gritted anxiously.
“Nothing. Technically. If he had, I’d probably be standing in jail right now and not in front of you.” That made Cas’s frown tick up in a small smirk.
“It’s just the way he talks to me, and never wants to leave me alone. I just feel like he’s always in my space, and he definitely looks at me differently than everyone else.” A bitter smile spread over Dean’s features, “Don’t know what it is about me that attracts perverts.” He felt a weird shame wash over him as he hung his head.
“Dean,” Cas responded with complete seriousness, “None of this—what happened in California, and now this—none of it is your fault.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed half-heartedly.
Cas pressed a hand to the side of Dean’s face. Dean leaned into it. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Dean. You don’t deserve it.”
Dean smiled sadly at his best friend, “Thanks, Cas.”
Cas nodded and slid his hand down to Dean’s side. “Did you tell Bobby?”
“Yeah, but again, since he didn’t technically break any rules, Bobby can’t do anything official but give him a talk.”
“Damn it.” Cas cursed under his breath.
“Trust me, I know. That’s why I came here—well, partly,” he said, his serious tone softening into a smile.
“I’m glad you did.”
“I was worried you’d be annoyed, y’know since we hung out all day yesterday, figured you’d probably be sick of me.” Dean laughed uneasily, trying to shift the mood.
Cas returned his smile, “I could never be sick of you.”
Dean blushed, looking down as he struggled to find the right words, “Anway, I just came cause I thought I might feel better.”
“By scening?” Cas asked softly, his eyes warm and understanding.
“Yeah…” Dean met Cas’s gaze, “Sorry I was acting…disrespectful before. I guess I just…” He trailed off, feeling vulnerable.
“It’s alright, Dean. I suspected something was causing your shift in behavior.” He took a step closer, “But if you need something…different today, I can accommodate.”
Smirking, Dean looked at Cas in surprise. “You sayin’ you want me to be a brat?”
Cas’s eyes darkened, “Is that what you want?”
There was a brief pause of silence while Dean considered his friend’s words. “Maybe.” He finally uttered.
Cas started laughing, a genuine, amused sound. Dean’s irritation flared briefly. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said, waving a hand as he tried to regain his composure, “Really. It’s just…I’m not used to asking my subs if they want to be a brat.”
At first, Dean felt self-conscious, but then he thought—Cas was right, if he wanted to take on this persona, he needed to own it.
“Good thing I don’t need your permission then.”
Still smiling, Cas gave a questioning look, “Oh really?”
“Yeah.”
The truth was that Dean wasn’t really a brat, and the submissive part inside him, the part that wanted to be good and get praised for it, was screaming at him to apologize.
He had to play this out though. And by the look on Cas’s face, his Dom was fully on board with that.
“Are you sure, Dean? I know how much you love being a good boy for me…”
This was a test, and Dean wasn’t falling for it.
“Yeah, guess I’m not feelin’ it today,” he shrugged nonchalantly.
Cas folded his arms across his chest. “Fine, I will give you a choice then.”
Dean’s eyes widened in piqued interest.
“You can either, start addressing me properly and go kneel in the playroom like the obedient boy I know you love being and I will make you come so many times that you’ll see stars, or you may continue being a brat, in which case, I will bend you over this couch and fuck you so hard you’ll be begging for a release, but you will not be allowed to come.” He finished the proposition by arching a singular brow.
Dean swallowed thickly. Both of those choices sounded great in his opinion. But right now? Right now he needed something more sharp, more firm. He wanted Cas to be rough with him and take control so that Dean wouldn’t have to anymore.
“Do you understand the choice, Dean?” His tone of voice made Dean feel so much smaller than Cas, despite their slight height difference making him look down into Cas’s eyes. His Dom was completely unfazed by this, fully confident in himself that the inch or two Dean had on him meant nothing.
Dean took a deep breath in. This was his chance. He could say Yes, Sir, and go to the playroom or he could do what he was already planning on doing in the first place…
He made his choice.
“Sure, Cas.”
Without missing a beat, Cas grabbed Dean and spun him around with a force that had Dean’s head reeling and his heart steadily pumping blood down to his dick.
His grip was almost painful.
It was exactly what Dean needed.
Cas leaned forward and whispered into his ear, breath hot and voice ridged, “You’ll regret that.”
A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of Dean’s mouth, he twisted his head back enough that Cas could see his smug expression.
“Oh yeah?”
Cas’s grip tightened.
“Prove it.”
Apparently that was all the encouragement Cas needed, and within the next second Dean was being shoved unceremoniously over the back of the couch. He drew in a sharp breath as his hip bones connected with the hard part of the couch, but it was soon muffled by his face being squished into the cushions.
His Dom tskd a few times, then pressed his scrub covered groin into Dean’s ass—and yeah, the scrubs were still turning Dean on. His arms were brought roughly behind his back and pinned at the dip of his lower back by one of Cas’s hands.
“You wanna be a brat, Dean?”
He let out another muffled whimper.
“Then you’ll get fucked like one.”
Dean gasped from the sharp spike of arousal that shot through his body. His lust only intensified when Cas kicked his legs further apart and began rubbing spit-slick fingers over his hole. A wry chuckle came from his Dom, “So this is what you wanted,” he pointed out, “You’re already stretched for me.”
Dean had, in fact, prepared himself before Cas got there, sort of expecting the evening to take this kind of turn. Although, the burn was still enough to make him bite his lower lip as Cas shoved the first finger into him.
This was definitely gonna be the roughest Cas has ever taken him, and Dean has never looked forward to anything more.
“Still so tight for me,” Cas groaned through gritted teeth.
“Nn…ungh….” Dean moaned into the cushions, pushing his hips back into Cas’s finger.
Instantly, the finger withdrew, leaving Dean to clench around nothing. Cas landed a sharp smack to Dean’s ass, “Oh no, none of that. You’re gonna be still and take what I give you, nothing more. Do you understand me?”
A devious curiosity took hold of Dean, he wanted to know how far he could go, how hard he could push, “No thanks, I think I’ll just do what I want.”
Dean had expected some sort of retort to his smart-ass comment, but instead he just felt Cas shift away from him, completely letting go of his hands and stepping back.
A flash of panic swept over Dean as he heard receding footsteps and realized Cas was now walking away. Shocked and scared that he had actually pissed Cas off, he remained still over the couch, resisting the urge to see where Cas had gone.
He wasn’t leaving him here for good right?
He was coming back?
After what felt like an eternity with Cas still not returning, Dean hesitantly lifted his upper body off the couch. Had Cas really just left him? Had Dean fucked up that bad? All resistance and brattiness seeped out of him until there was practically none left. He wanted to run to Cas, fall on his knees, and beg for forgiveness.
Finally, he heard the sound of his Dom coming back down the hallway. A sigh of relief escaped Dean as he quickly repositioned himself over the couch.
Five seconds without Cas and he was already ready to give in, he really needed to practice this whole brat thing more often.
It wasn’t long before Cas’s strong hands found their way back to Dean’s body. Gripping tightly onto his shoulders, Cas lifted him up until his back was flush with his chest. Then, with quick movements, Cas reached around and wrapped a ball gag around Dean’s head, forcing him to gasp in surprise which allowed entry for the gag.
With unforgiving strength, Cas tightened with the strap behind his head and pushed him back on the couch. “I think I’m rather over hearing your bratty mouth. So, from now on, all I want to hear are your moans and pleas. I better not hear a single word try to escape those pretty lips unless you're begging.”
Sweet mother of jesus.
Dean was sure he’d never been so thoroughly dominated in his whole life.
Not that he had any complaints about his dynamic with Cas before, but if there was anything missing, it was this. It was nice easing into things at first, but since they’ve started, Dean still technically hasn’t had a punishment. And yes, part of that was because Dean was very compliant when scening with Cas, but that was mostly because he enjoyed the praise he’d receive because of it. It’s not like he wanted to misbehave, but seeing this side of Cas? It was worth it to be a bit of a brat.
“For being disrespectful and not using the appropriate title, I am going to spank you five times with my hand. However, since we are still in a scene, Dean, I need to know your color. I want you to tap me with your finger once for green, twice for yellow, or three times for red.”
Dean’s hands had once again been drawn together behind his back, but his pointer finger could reach the hand Cas had clasped over his, so he tapped there once to show he was completely on board with this.
“Very good. If your color changes at any time during this scene, I want you to either kick me with your leg or tap again. Do you understand?”
Understanding the system now, Dean tapped once.
“There’s my good boy,” Cas purred.
The words made Dean’s dick fully harden and it throbbed from where it was pressed against the couch.
Cas wasted no time spanking his ass. The hits were sharp and fast, making Dean keen and after the last one fell. A soothing hand rubbed over his skin, “You seemed to enjoy that a bit too much, maybe you need more to fully understand the consequences of your misbehavior.”
Slobbering into the gag, Dean nodded enthusiastically but resisted the urge to wiggle his hips.
“Hmm,” Cas hummed. Over the next couple of minutes he intermittently switched between rubbing Dean’s ass and smacking it as hard as he could. It was surely a deep red by the time he had finished.
Dean forgot how much he loved impact play, him and Cas both. Although this was technically a punishment, it was really a reward at the end of the day.
In fact, it was a little too good, as Dean’s cock was getting harder with each hit.
Matters only seemed to worsen when Cas went back to prepping him. This time, he started with two fingers, which Dean took rather easily. After a few minutes of scissoring him open, Cas inserted three fingers. Dean moaned unabashedly into the gag, his vision going blurry from the pleasure. He was beginning to regret this decision if it really meant he wasn’t going to be able to come.
When Dean was sufficiently stretched, Cas withdrew his fingers and lined up his cock against his entrance. He must’ve grabbed the lube while he was in the playroom because his dick was dripping wet. It made Dean shiver as the cool, slick tip made contact with his hot skin.
Inch by delicious inch, Cas buried himself inside Dean. Despite being fucked not even 24 hours ago, Dean was so needy with it. He had to have Cas inside him. The pressure, the way he filled him up, it was exactly what he craved. Once Cas was all the way in, Dean groaned loudly and babbled incoherently into the gag, which drew a devilish chuckle from Cas.
The hand that wasn’t holding Dean’s wrist reached forward and grabbed onto the short hairs of Dean’s head, craning it backwards.
Dean could only imagine what they looked like right now, but he knew they painted a beautiful picture. With Cas, fully dressed in his scrubs, hair fucked up from work, looking sexy as hell, and Dean, with his mouth stuffed with a gag, back arched at an impossible angle, pitifully trying to thrust back into Cas. He could almost see their reflection in the darkness of the TV screen, which made him groan with lust.
Annoyingly, Cas still hadn’t moved yet. Whether he was simply savoring the feeling of Dean or prolonging his punishment, Dean wasn’t sure. All he knew was that if Cas didn’t get this show on the road soon, he was gonna show him how much he really could act out. With the tiniest bit of movement, he pushed his hips back into Cas.
His head was roughly shoved back into the cushions as Cas growled, “I should pull out right now, jerk off and come all over you and not let you get any of it.”
Dean immediately deflated with a whimper.
“You only get what I give you, Dean, no less, no more. Good boys get good things. So if you want this cock, I suggest you lay there like a good boy and let me use you how I see fit.”
Although he made no further effort to move, he chose not to respond with a ‘Yes, Sir,’ just yet.
Almost as if he’d read his mind, Cas bent over his sub and whispered darkly, “Oh don’t worry, you will be screaming my name by the end of this.”
Somewhere inside Dean’s fuzzy mind he questioned whether or not Cas meant his title or his real name…
Dean tried swallowing around the gag, his breath catching in his throat. Soon after Cas’s words were spoken, he pulled out torturously slowly until only his tip was inside Dean. Then, with unforgiving force, Cas slammed home. It was too much and not enough all at once. Dean was so fucking full, filled to the brim, but Cas wasn’t angling like he usually did.
Each thrust that Cas doled out was fast and harsh and excruciatingly calculated. Cas was purposefully missing his prostate. Hot tears welled up in Dean’s eyes. Despite the lack of stimulation to his spot, he was still reveling from the overall feeling of being fucked. Of being held down and forced to take what Cas had to give. It was everything Dean had been craving. It was perfect.
His Dom grunted in pleasure every time he slid deep inside Dean. The noises only spurred on Dean’s own arousal as he tried to grind his erection into the couch cushions. Mid-thrust, Cas stopped and wrapped a fist around the base of Dean’s cock. “What did I say Dean? You are not coming today.”
Whining obstinately, Dean thrashed in Cas’s hold. His little tantrum did little more than spur on Cas’s rough pace and tight grip on his dick. He fucked Dean with abandon. So hard, that the sounds of their skin slapping against one another reverberated off the walls.
The ball gag kept him from making any snarky comments, all he could do was whimper and groan. There was already a wet spot below him from where his drool had dripped down and it was just on the right side of humiliating.
Even with Cas’s schemes to avoid stimulating Dean’s prostate, his cock was too damn big to not do something, and after a few minutes of Cas continuously fucking him into the sofa, Dean was screaming hoarse from the pleasure. If Cas didn’t finish soon, Dean was going to come whether he liked it or not. Dean shivered to think about what kind of punishment he would get if he let that happen.
Sadly, he never had the chance to find out since Cas’s thrusts were starting to slow down, becoming more uneven and sporadic. He groaned through gritted teeth, the sound made Dean let out a moan of his own.
“Fuck, Dean—so…fucking…good.” He accentuated every word with the sharp thrust of his hips
“Mmmpff….” Dean babbled incoherently into his gag.
“Gonna come inside you again. Gonna fucking mark you—god—”
The bratty facade had completely vanished as Dean nodded his head over and over in response to Cas’s filthy words.
“You’re mine, Dean…only mine.”
With those words spoken, Cas delivered three thrusts into Dean, and finally he was coming inside him. Dean’s legs shook with the feeling of it, he was so goddamn close to an orgasm, if Cas let go of his cock he’d probably shoot off like a rocket.
His Dom took a few moments to relish in his conquest over Dean, lying over his back and breathing into the side of Dean’s neck. Despite still being painfully hard and a little uncomfortable thrown over the couch, Dean wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.
Finally, Cas lifted himself off Dean and pulled out. Just when Dean thought that was it, Cas, without warning, shoved two fingers in Dean’s cum sloppy hole. The sub screamed through his gag as Cas made sure to press directly into his prostate. His left hand was still securely wrapped around Dean’s member, so he still had no intention of letting Dean come. This was part of the punishment.
“Ple—ase…” Dean tried to call out through the gag.
A few more punishing movements from his Dom until finally he pulled out, leaving cum to dribble down the inside of Dean’s shaking thighs.
He continued to mew into his gag. He hoped that Cas would take pity on him, but it was to no avail, as his Dom began lifting him to his feet. Dean leaned unsteadily, his vision blacking out for a few seconds from holding the same position for so long which made him let out a small, panicked whimper.
“Shh, it’s okay. I have you, sweet boy.” After unlatching the ball gag from his mouth, Cas wrapped Dean’s arms over the back of his neck and took hold of his other hand. Step by step he led him to the playroom.
Dean leaned his head, dripped in sweat, into the crook of Cas’s neck and sighed, letting Cas guide him. The playroom was a nice cool contrast to the living room, and the silkiness of the bed felt amazing against Dean’s skin. Feeling the familiar effects of subspace, Dean allowed himself to drift peacefully, despite his uncomfortable hard-on, as Cas cleaned him.
Once they were both clean of dried cum, Cas pulled back the comforter and helped them get underneath it. The cool sheets sent a shiver through Dean, but the warmth of Cas’s body quickly chased it away.
Cas’s arms wrapped around him, steady and grounding, the feeling of safety they provided made Dean melt further into the bed. He buried his face into Cas’s chest, inhaling the comforting scent. His heart rate slowed, matching the rhythm of Cas’s deep, even breaths.
“I’ve got you,” Cas murmured, running his fingers gently through Dean's hair.
Dean’s eyelids fluttered, his body growing heavier with each pass of Cas's hand. The ache between his legs dulled, replaced by the steady thrum of contentment and exhaustion. He let out a low hum of approval, shifting to get even closer.
"You did so good," Cas whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Dean's temple. The praise warmed Dean’s chest, the last bit of tension melting away.
With a final, drowsy sigh, Dean’s mind started to slip, the weight of the day falling away as the softness of sleep overtook him. Wrapped in Cas’s arms, he drifted off, safe and at peace.
— (Cas’s POV)
Dean’s soft breaths fell delicately onto the exposed skin of Cas’s chest. His sub was somewhere between asleep and awake, probably still buried deep in subspace. Cas had to admit, it felt good to take care of him again. After Dean told him what was upsetting him and assured Cas that he was in the right headspace for a scene, Cas made sure to give him everything he needed. And if Cas got an immense enjoyment out of it, well that was just a bonus.
There was one thing that was bothering him though.
They still need to talk.
It was getting a little draining if he was being honest. The push and pull, one step forward, two steps back kinda thing. And now, especially with this job offer he had, he didn’t want to waste anymore time beating around the bush. He had a feeling that Dean wouldn’t want to have another heart to heart when he woke up, but he should at least try.
By the time Dean did finally regain full consciousness, it was getting late. He opened his beautiful jade eyes, and looked up at Cas with a growing smile.
“Hey,” he whispered raspily.
Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair and nuzzled closer, “Hello.”
After stretching his limbs, Dean wrapped an arm over Cas’s abdomen, “That was really nice.”
“I agree.”
“Thanks for doing this and…y’know, understanding.”
“Of course, Dean. Please never hesitate to come to me when you need help dealing with something.”
He nodded his understanding then let out a short laugh, “Guess it’s better you than a bar.”
Cas chuckled softly, “Yes, I agree.”
At first, Cas wanted to enjoy the quiet intimacy a little longer—the way they fit perfectly together was addicting and it made Cas never want to leave. But since they both had work tomorrow and it was almost 11pm, he couldn’t waste anymore time.
“Dean…” He started hesitantly, loosening his grip on Dean.
“Hmm?” Dean hummed groggily.
“Dean, I know you’re feeling better now, and I’m glad we could have tonight. But…” Cas hesitated, then continued, keeping his voice soft but steady, “We really need to talk.”
Dean’s body stiffened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Cas could hear his breathing stall, like he was scared about what Cas might say next, “Talk about what?”
A tired exhale escaped Cas before he adjusted himself to look directly at Dean’s face, “About us. About everything we’ve been pretending isn’t happening. About—”
“Okay, Cas—” Dean interjected, abruptly sitting up. A chill ran through Cas as he immediately felt the cold seep in where Dean’s warmth had just been. “It’s late. I’m tired, you’re tired. Can’t we just, I dunno, wait until—”
“Until when Dean?” Cas’s voice raised slightly, “Because it feels like we’re never going to choose a time to do this, and I don’t know about you, but I can’t keep going on like this.”
Dean’s expression twisted into a look of hurt and anger, it felt like a stab to Cas’s heart. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was causing you so much torment.” He bit out sarcastically.
“Dean—” Cas shook his head, and sat up beside Dean, “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
Cas felt a strong impulse to tell Dean why it was so urgent that they talk now, but he knew dropping that bomb right now would definitely not end well.
“Just…I need to know Dean. I need—I need a label o-or some definition of—”
“A label?” Dean’s tone shifted from guarded to accusatory.
“I—” Cas tried to explain but Dean cut him off.
“Why? I mean…” Dean shook his head, “Why do we have t-to label us? Why ruin a good thing?”
A good thing? That’s what Dean thought this was? Of course it was good in the sense that Cas has been able to be with Dean in almost all the ways he wanted, but so far it hasn’t really been Dean himself. Now, they were getting to a point where the lines between sub, friend, and lover, were getting blurred.
And sure, part of Cas wanting to talk about what they were was so he could finally know if Dean reciprocated his feelings, but he also couldn’t risk losing his friend over some stupid miscommunication.
“You say good thing,” Cas started out slowly, treading carefully, “But what I’m trying to understand…is what that thing is.”
Dean scoffed and looked away. It was a few long seconds before he finally responded. “Look,” His friend began, his voice rough with frustration, “I get it. You want answers. But right now, all I can think about is how complicated this is.” He glanced at Cas, his eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and regret. “I don’t want to risk messing this up by putting it all in a box. What if we try to define it, and it all falls apart? What if it’s not what we both need?”
Well, Cas needs it.
“Maybe I’m scared of what a label might mean, or h-how it could change what we’ve got. It feels like if we start definin’ things, we might lose what makes this work.”
Cas’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Dean’s feelings were valid, and he did make a few solid points, but ultimately, it wasn’t the answer Cas was looking for.
“I see,” He mostly whispered.
Maybe Dean noticed his disappointment, because his brows pinched together in sympathy and he returned a warm hand to Cas’s bicep. Giving him a weak smile, Cas placed his hand over Dean’s.
“It’s getting late,” He pointed out. “We need to get to sleep.”
Dean nodded in acknowledgement and went to get out of the bed.
“You can sleep here if you want.”
Surprised, yet hopeful, Dean turned back, “Really?”
“Yes. I’ll sleep in my room, but you can have this bed or the couch.”
His clarification made Dean’s smile fall. It’s not like Cas didn’t want to sleep with Dean, but to him, that was something that people who were more than friends did and according to Dean, they weren’t that.
“Oh.”
Cas could tell Dean was more unsure of the proposition now, so he gave him some time to think.
“I think…I think I may just go home. Probably shouldn’t show up tomorrow in the same clothes,” he laughed nervously.
Cas couldn’t find it in himself to object. So he simply nodded, and got out of the bed with Dean.
Throughout Cas’s entire career as a Dom, moments like these were easy, forgettable. If he brought a sub home, the goodbyes were simple and both parties understood there was no real weight surrounding their parting. Of course, with Dean, everything was always different.
They both got dressed in silence, they were both silent as Dean put his collar back in the case, and silence surrounded them as they walked to Cas’s front door. As they made their way out onto his front porch, the only sound that could be heard was the soft buzzing of his porch light.
Finally, Dean’s voice cut through the quiet. “Thanks again, Cas.”
Cas crossed his arms, looking out into the darkness, “You don’t have to thank me, Dean.”
“I know…but still.”
They’ve been here so many times. So many times and it still felt like the first time. Cas couldn’t bring himself to look at Dean, eyes already stinging.
“Hey,” Dean took a step or two towards Cas, “Are you okay? Are—are we okay?”
Cas drew in a shaky breath. “Of course,” He replied, but he knew his tone was unconvincing.
Cas felt the weight of Dean’s uncertainty, hanging in the air like a question they both refused to answer. His friend forced a nod, but the tightness in his chest told him neither of them believed it. The silence settled heavily between them again, neither willing to take the next step but knowing it had to be done.
Dean shifted awkwardly, his hands shoved deep into his pants pockets. He took a deep breath, his gaze flicking to the porch light, then back to Cas. “Guess I’ll see you later.”
Cas swallowed hard. He nodded again, not trusting his voice. “Yeah.”
Before Dean could turn away completely, Cas moved on instinct, reaching out and gently pulling him into a hug. It wasn’t a tight embrace—just enough for their bodies to brush, for Cas to feel Dean’s warmth one last time tonight.
Dean hesitated for a moment but then leaned into it, resting his chin briefly on Cas’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out,” he mumbled, his voice low and tired.
Cas closed his eyes, gripping Dean’s back just a little tighter. “I hope so,” he whispered.
They stood there for a beat longer, neither willing to pull away. But eventually, Dean did, offering a half-hearted smile before stepping off the porch. Cas watched him disappear into the darkness, the sound of his footsteps fading, leaving Cas alone under the soft glow of the porch light.
— (Dean’s POV)
His car keys clinked together noisily as he threw them on the table beside his front door. It was way past time for Dean to be asleep, but he couldn’t shake the conversation with Cas from his mind. He trudged quietly to his bedroom, each step heavy, his mind racing as he peeled off his jacket.
After changing into an old t-shirt and fresh boxers, Dean brushed his teeth mechanically, his thoughts still stuck on the way Cas had hugged him at the door—the way Cas had felt distant, even in his arms. Spitting into the sink, Dean caught his own tired reflection in the mirror. He looked like hell.
With a sigh, he fell onto his mattress, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep that seemed far away. Out of habit, he rolled over and reached for his phone. Maybe a game of candy crush would kickstart his melatonin production.
As soon as the bright screen illuminated his face, Dean’s eyes were instantly drawn to the flood of notifications, most of which were missed calls. Worry and anxiety settled in his chest as he read the contacts. Although there were a couple missed calls from Sam, the majority of them were from his Dad.
Fuck.
When he was at Cas’s house he put his phone on silent, which is what he usually did whenever they scened. They already had limited time and Dean didn’t want to risk interruptions.
Of course, that was before he practically abandoned his very sick father to fend for himself. How could he be such a selfish idiot, what kind of a son just leaves their Dad like that? A wave of nausea passed over him as he sat straight up.
Should he call him back? It was already almost midnight, so he knew his Dad would be asleep. But what if this was an emergency? Did Sam try to call him because John called him first? Did something terrible happen while Dean was too busy getting his rocks off to give a shit?
Dean felt dizzy with anxiety. Since he had a better chance of Sam answering than his Dad, he decided to try him first. He bounced his knee impatiently while waiting for his little brother to pick up the phone.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally did.
“Dude, it’s almost midnight.” Sam’s voice was rough with sleep.
“Why did you call me, Sam? Is something wrong with Dad?”
There was a pause of silence as Sam processed his words, “Um, No? I called to ask about Colorado. You know, Jess’s parent’s lake house? I was wondering if you and Cas still wanted to—”
“But Dad’s okay? He didn’t talk to you?”
Sam scoffed, “Why the hell would he talk to me?”
Dean let out a sigh of relief and let himself fall back on the bed. If his Dad was really in danger and Dean wasn’t answering, he’d call Sam. He must want something, although that fact did very little to comfort Dean.
“Why? I mean, shouldn’t you know, since you keep tabs on the man 24/7?”
“I don’t.” Dean said defensively. “I’ve actually…I haven’t talked to him in over a week.”
“Oh.” Sam’s tone was between impressed and worried. “Why?”
“Because I…” Dean felt a twinge of regret as he uttered his next words, “I couldn’t take it anymore, Sam. The lies, a-and self-destruction…and hate. So, I told him I wasn’t gonna put up with him anymore.”
“Wow Dean, I’m really proud of you.” If Sam was in the room with him, he knew exactly what face he’d be making. He’d be looking at Dean with those big puppy dog eyes, and smiling like Dean had done some great accomplishment.
“Yeah, well that makes one of us.”
“Why? Do you regret it?”
“I dunno…” Dean shrugged, “I know it sounds terrible, but…I haven’t really thought about him at all since then.”
“That sounds more like progress actually—”
“But he called me, Sam. Like, a lot. And for a second I thought something happened and I wasn’t there for him and…as much as I don’t want to admit it…I can’t stand the thought of that happening.”
There was a quiet hum of acknowledgement from the other side of the line, then Sam responded, “Well…he is your Dad. And even though I might hate the guy…I kinda know what you mean.”
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, memories of the three of them together as a family flooding his mind.
“Don’t blame yourself, Dean. If you can’t take that big of a step away just yet, then don’t. Do whatever you need to do, but do it for yourself. You don’t owe him anything.”
Ignoring the burning feeling in his chest, Dean choked out, “I know. Thanks, Sammy.”
“Course, Dean.”
Dean cleared his throat, “So uh, Colorado, huh?”
“Yep,” Sam said cheerfully. There was also a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“When do you wanna go?”
“Well, I was thinking end of June. So, in about…two weeks? Is that too soon?”
“Nah, should be fine. For how long?”
“Well, we'll probably stay a few weeks, but I was thinking y’all could come up for the first day or two…”
“That sounds good.”
“Yeah.” The high-pitched inflection in Sam’s tone told Dean there was something he wasn’t telling him.
Dean waited a few seconds before adding, “Anything you’d like to share, Samantha?”
“W-what?”
“Come on, tell your big brother.”
“Oh shut up, jerk.” Sam’s laugh brought a smile to Dean’s face.
“I’m serious. I feel like there’s somethin’ you’re hiding from me.”
The younger man sighed, “No, it’s just—I was…thinking…about doing…something.”
“Do tell.”
“I don’t know, it’s probably a bad idea.”
“Can’t be as bad as the time you decided to jump off a shed dressed as Batman.”
“Hey, you jumped first!”
“Well, I was nine and I was dressed as Superman. Everybody knows Batman can’t fly.”
“I was five!” Sam half-yelled, half-laughed into the phone, “And I broke my arm!”
“I know,” Dean snickered, remembering it like it was yesterday. “I drove you to the ER on my handlebars.”
Sam sighed, “Good times.”
“Indeed.” Dean adjusted himself so his head was on the pillow, “Now tell me about your bad idea.”
“Fine,” Sam breathed deeply, “I was thinking about…possibly…”
“Spit it out, Sammy.”
“Proposing.”
Proposing?
Dean blinked in surprise, his heart tightening at the word. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. For a second, he just stared at his ceiling, letting the weight of it settle in. Slowly, a soft smile spread across his face, one that was equal parts pride and affection.
“Sam…” Dean’s voice was low, full of warmth, as he tried to find the right words. “That’s—that’s not a bad idea, man. Not even close.”
He shifted again, propping himself up on an elbow, “You deserve that, you know? After all we’ve been through, you deserve to be happy. And if proposing feels right, then do it.”
The silence that followed was full of unspoken emotion. Finally his brother replied, his voice watery and wavering, “Really?”
“Hell yes.”
“Wow, I thought you were gonna tell me it was stupid.”
Dean was a funny guy, but he’d never joke about something like that. And Sam assuming that he would was a bit of a slap to the face, “I wouldn't say that. Not about this.”
Sam smacked his lips thoughtfully, “So…you really think I should go for it?”
“Absolutely,” Dean assured sincerely, “And I’m gonna be there to watch the whole fuckin’ thing.”
“Damn right,” Sam laughed.
“Can I tell Cas?”
“Sure, but let’s just keep it between us three, okay?”
“Duh, I mean who else is there to tell?”
“Well…I was gonna invite some friends—”
Dean opened his mouth to object.
“—And before you say anything. These are good friends, nothing like Brady, okay?”
“You better be right.”
“Don’t worry Dean, I’m practically doing a background check on all my friends now.”
“I trust you,” Dean chuckled, trying to shake off the lingering tension.
“Good, cause I promise I’m not letting anybody near this without being sure.”
Dean nodded although Sam couldn’t see.
There was a brief pause before Sam spoke again, his tone more cautious, “How about you, man? You…you good? Things with Cas still—”
Dean’s chest tightened at the mention of Cas. His thumb rubbed absently over the edge of the blanket, searching for an excuse. “Yeah, uh… We’re fine. But hey, it’s uh—it’s late, and I need to crash.”
Sam sighed softly, like he knew there was more to say but wasn’t going to push. “Alright, Dean. We’ll talk later.”
“Yeah,” Dean’s voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his thoughts pressing down. “Night, Sammy.”
“Night.”
Dean hung up, staring at his phone for a moment longer than necessary before setting it aside, the silence settling in once again.
Notes:
So I will admit, this was kind of a filler chapter, BUT here's a little spoiler: this was their last official "scene" until the epilogue! So, if you're worried about things becoming redundant, don't be, because they will be changing over the next few chapters!
Please let me know what you think so far, I love hearing from you. <3
Chapter 15
Summary:
- Switching POV’s
- Smut, but like, it's sweet
- TW: alcohol consumption/mention of alcoholism, self-worth issues (it's Dean Winchester though, so what's really new).
Notes:
So uh…happy holidays/happy new year!
I know it’s been forever. My energy has been so low, and life—as always—has been hectic. I wrote a 40k fic for Halloween, so that's part of why I've been MIA. I wanted to get this to you sooner, but I also wanted it to be well done, which, unfortunately meant that I needed time to make sure it was.
I had so much fun writing this chapter though. And, as a guilty pleasure, played around with the dynamics of of the other characters more, which I hope you might enjoy!
Anyway, it’s here now, in all it's 20k word glory (I know, I'm sorry). Lots of fluff, domesticity, and maybe a little angst in this bad boy. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
2 weeks later
(Cas’s POV)
Cas wasn’t like Gabriel. He wasn’t big on travel, or sightseeing, and if it weren’t for the need to escape his overbearing parents, he would probably never have ventured farther than the state of New York.
Since being in Kansas, however, something had shifted for him. He’d gotten a lot closer with nature—the wide open skies and endless fields. He found himself drawn to it in a way he’d never expected, learning to appreciate the quiet beauty. Because, despite the state’s emptiness, it had a quaint charm to it that had captured Castiel’s heart, even to a point, where he was no longer missing the tall city skyline of his home.
Even in Kansas, though, Cas had never seen anything quite like this. Lake Granby, Colorado was breathtaking, to say the least. The vast water stretched out along the valley like a mirror, reflecting the jagged peaks of the Rocky Mountains behind it. There was a crisp, pine-scented breeze that blew across the shoreline, rustling the tall evergreens by the lake. Cas had never seen a lake of this size, not to mention a mountain range as glorious as the Rockies.
He tried to resist looking out the window in such awe, since Dean had made fun of him for it the whole drive up here, but he couldn’t help himself.
And although the sightseeing helped to shorten the trip, ten hours still wasn’t easy.
Cas was grateful that it was shorter than two days, and also, that it was just him and Dean.
Maybe travel wasn’t Cas’s go-to idea of fun, but with Dean? It was magical. Even when Dean made fun of him for dropping his jaw at the jaw-dropping scenery.
The time passed quickly with their conversation and banter, and Dean even let him drive for approximately ten minutes before he got pissed at Castiel’s speed and took over again. Not that it bothered Cas, he was perfectly fine riding beside Dean.
Because truthfully, the beautiful plains and gorgeous mountains of Colorado had nothing on Dean Winchester’s chiseled side profile—and Castiel had no shame staring at that for hours.
The cabin—if you could even call it that—was equally as magnificent as the nature surrounding it. A whopping three stories of pine log stood tall over the lake. It had a winding, rocky path that led down to the dock, and plenty of patio furniture for outside mingling.
Dean and Cas pulled up to the cabin excited. Not only were they getting a weekend off from work, but they were also there to commemorate a very special moment for Sam and Jess—as Dean had informed him.
Cas felt honored to have been invited. Being welcomed into the most precious and private moments of Dean and Sam’s lives made him feel like he was part of their family. Which was something Cas had craved his whole life.
They weren’t the only ones sharing this moment, however, as indicated by the two other cars in the driveway.
Dean seemed nervous at the sight of them.
“What’s wrong?” Cas asked as Dean put the car into park.
Dean looked surprised by his question and shook his head, shrugging. “Nothing. Why?”
Cas threw him a knowing, sympathetic look. “It’ll be fine, Dean. I’m sure whoever Sam invited will be great.”
“Yeah,” Dean scoffed under his breath, “Just like Brady was great.”
“You have the right to be skeptical, Dean. But I can assure you, Sam wouldn’t promise that they’re good people unless he meant it.”
“I know,” Dean sighed, “It’s just, I kinda wish it was just you, me, Sam, and Jess. Y’know?”
Cas nodded, “I know.”
Cas had actually been worried when Dean mentioned Sam might’ve invited someone else. He knew how awful Sam had felt about what happened last time though, so he trusted him to choose who came wisely. And if, by chance, someone did try to be an asshole to Dean…
Let’s just say, a broken jaw would pale in comparison to what Cas would do to them.
It took a few minutes to unload their bags—and find the right entrance—but eventually they were walking in with their belongings in hand, shoulder’s brushing as they made their way to the middle of the cabin where voices could be heard. As they walked through the halls, the first thing that struck Castiel was the space—expansive, yet somehow cozy. High vaulted ceilings of polished wood rose above them, and large windows framed views of the lake and mountains in the distance, allowing the evening light to pour in.
There were paintings on the walls, most of which were of more beautiful landscapes Colorado had to offer. The floor was just as shiny as the polished ceilings and walls, and made a satisfying thunking noise everytime Dean’s boots scuffed across it.
Cas took in a deep breath, even the air seemed luxurious. The faint smell of warm vanilla lingered every time Cas breathed, probably the result of some candles burning somewhere, or maybe plug in scents.
The living room was certainly made to be the center of the cabin. There was a tall, stone fireplace, its mantle decorated with rustic but elegant decor, and a wide TV screen mounted above it. Plush leather couches, full of fluffy blankets and pillows, sat in front, almost in a circle, and a glass coffee table stood in the middle.
Sam and Jess were snuggled up on the love seat, their hands intertwined together.
Three people sat on the longer sofa, laughing and holding drinks. As soon as they fully walked in the room, Sam sprung from his seat, letting go of Jess’s hand in an instant.
“Dean!” Like he’d done during their last visit, Sam ran up and trapped Dean in a crushing hug, making his older brother groan in annoyance. Although, everyone knew he secretly loved it. “Why didn’t you text me when you got here?” Sam asked excitedly.
“Well, the door was open.” Dean responded as they stepped away from the embrace.
Ignoring his response, Sam immediately turned to Cas, giving him a hug.
“It’s so good to see you guys,” Sam laughed.
Jess walked over, giving both Dean and Cas a quick hug in greeting. As they stepped away, the other three people came into view.
“You’re kidding,” Dean laughed, staring at Jo who was sitting beside two other unknown people. “What are you doing here?”
“I was invited,” Jo smirked, then jumped up and pranced over. “What took you so long to get here?”
“We drove,” Cas explained.
Dean smiled, pulling the younger woman into a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me Jo was coming?” He asked Sam with his chin resting on her blond hair.
“Well—”
“We could’ve given you a ride,” Dean interrupted.
“Yeah, no thanks,” Jo chuckled, “I’ll take a plane any day.”
Dean shrugged, and took a step back. “Who’s this?” He jerked his chin over to where two people were sitting, a guy and a girl.
“Oh,” Sam walked back to the center of the room, gesturing to the two people. “This is Max and Alicia. Guys, this is my brother Dean and his….best friend, Cas.”
A man and woman with very similar features stood up from the couch. The guy put his hand out first for Dean to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Max, and this is my twin sister.” He waved a hand at Alicia who was smiling wide.
“We’ve heard a lot about you guys,” she beamed.
Dean shook both of their hands, Cas following suit shortly after.
“Sorry I can’t say the same,” Dean said roughly. Cas could hear the hint of guardedness in his voice, though he didn’t necessarily blame him.
“Well, we actually just met a few weeks ago,” Sam explained after throwing Dean a look. “Alicia and Max are gonna share an apartment with me and Jess while we’re going to Berkeley in San Fran.”
“Oh.” Dean’s face softened just a tad.
“Sam told us you’re a paramedic?” Alicia smiled politely, obviously trying to break the ice a bit.
Dean shifted, looking down before clearing his throat. “Um…no.”
Confusion flashed over the twins’ faces.
“I’m just a basic EMT, not quite a paramedic yet.”
“So there is a ‘yet’?” Sam interjected, smiling hopeful.
Cas was equally happy to hear the news. He knew Dean was always capable of going the extra step to get the qualifications, and had encouraged him to do so for a while now.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck and half-shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“If you don’t, everyone at the station is gonna kick your ass,” Jo grinned from where she was leaning against the back of the couch. “Bobby included.”
Dean scoffed, but there was a genuine appreciation behind his eyes.
“And you, Cas?” Max asked, changing the subject.
“I’m in my third year of residency for Emergency Medicine.”
“So you work at an ER?”
“I do.” Cas confirmed, before looking over at Dean, who was now gazing at him with a fondness that made Castiel’s heart skip multiple beats. “That’s where we met.”
The pair of men kept their eyes locked on each other, and it wasn’t until Sam coughed awkwardly, that they looked away. Cas could feel the redness in his face.
Sam clasped his hands together. “So uh—we were just about to go hang outside—”
“In the dark?” Dean asked, looking over at one of the windows where the pale light of the sunset could be seen dimming by the second.
“The patio is lit,” Jess replied cheerfully, “plus, it’s supposed to be a full moon tonight.”
Dean nodded. “Alright then. We’ll be right out, just uh… tell us where to drop off our shit.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sam quickly waved for them to follow as he turned to leave the room, “come with me.”
Dean gave the twins one last tight smile as he trailed behind Sam.
“It was nice to meet you,” Cas added, feeling a bit sorry for the cold greeting they were receiving from Dean.
The twins replied almost in unison. “You too!”
When Cas caught up with Dean, they were already halfway down a long hallway. There were a few rooms on either side, Cas peered into each curiously as they passed by. Eventually, they came to the first guest bedroom.
Sam stopped by the doorway and extended his arm inside. He opened his mouth to say something when Dean interrupted. “Nice room,” he exclaimed while pushing past Sam to go inside, walking up to the bed, “I call the left side.”
Cas stepped in slowly, taking in the room. It was just as beautiful as the rest of the house. Deep oak walls and ceilings with expensive-looking, warm light fixtures. Gorgeous artwork adorned the empty spaces on the walls, and it complemented the rest of the rustic interior with an elegant charm. The center and most beautiful part of the room was the giant king bed that was furnished with thick blankets and fluffy throw pillows.
Nice was an understatement.
Cas was grateful they were staying somewhere so beautiful, but as Dean sat his stuff on the bed, a thought finally hit him.
Were they sharing this room?
Was Dean even okay with that?
His question was promptly answered when Sam interjected, looking slightly confused himself, “um…Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“This is Cas’s room.”
Dean looked up with furrowed brows and rapidly reddening cheeks. “W-what?”
“Yours is down the hall.” Sam jerked a thumb behind him, a tinge of slight amusement in his voice now.
“Oh. Right.” Dean fumbled for his stuff and walked out briskly. “Lead the way, Samantha.”
Sam and Cas shared a look, and Sam shook his head before he turned, following on Dean’s heels.
When he was finally alone, Cas was half tempted to do the whole ‘fall backwards on the bed’ thing that he saw in movies. And he probably would have if he wasn’t so worried he’d fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Instead, he took his time putting away what little things he brought for the weekend in the large, empty dresser. Then he spent a few minutes staring out of the landscape-shaped window overlooking the lake.
Jess had been right, there was a full moon beginning its ascension into the sky. Its light shone beautifully—bright, yet fractured on the ripples of the lake. Cas let out a deep breath at the serene sight.
This was certainly the perfect place for a proposal.
That thought had his mind drifting. Castiel had never put much thought into how he wanted to propose—or be proposed to. Marriage wasn’t something that had really even been on his radar. It’s not like he never wanted it, he just knew that working towards his career had to come first, there just wasn’t time for anything else in between.
But now that things were starting to die down on that end, now that he was almost done with residency and would soon be a board-certified physician, his personal life was starting to take more precedence. Especially considering everything that’s been going on with Dean.
Cas found himself letting out a short laugh. It was silly, thinking about marriage with someone who didn’t even want to put the label of “dating” on their very complicated relationship. But even so, Cas couldn’t help himself.
He wouldn’t be young forever—hell, he’d be turning thirty in three months. If Sam and Jess already had their lives planned out and life partner’s picked at the age of 22, then why shouldn’t Cas? Why should he wait? Why should he worry about ruining what he had with Dean when they’ve already wasted so much time?
Castiel sighed and folded his arms. One thing was for sure, he couldn’t go on like this forever. Eventually, something was gonna have to break.
—
By the time Cas finished recharging his social battery and made it out to the living room again, the group had migrated to the patio outside. Their muffled voices filtered through the large glass door a few feet away.
Warm lights lined the walkway leading down to the patio where Cas could faintly make out the outlines of people sitting around a fire pit. It was likely that they’d taken drinks out with them, so Cas thought he would check the kitchen fridge for a beer of his own.
After wandering through the sprawling house, Castiel found the kitchen—a space that was as luxurious as the rest of the home. He approached the large, stainless steel fridge, just about to open it when a sound behind him made him jump. He turned sharply, heart racing, only to see Jo on the other side of the kitchen island, cracking open two beers.
“Oh,” Cas exhaled, calming himself, “hello.”
“Hey,” she smiled, then slid an open beer across the island. Cas caught it just before it could slide off the counter. “For you,” she pointed at the glass bottle.
Castiel glanced at the beer, then back up at her before nodding his appreciation and taking a sip. Beer wasn’t usually his drink of choice, but ever since meeting Dean, it had grown on him. It wasn’t the taste he liked so much as the way it reminded him of Dean—something steady, familiar, and comforting.
Cas leaned against the counter, swishing the beer in his mouth a bit before swallowing. He looked over at Jo who was mirroring his stance, taking a few drinks from her own beer. Castiel felt an unexpected fondness pull at his heart. It was always nice to be around people that Dean loved—not only because he could learn more about Dean, but because he always spoke so highly of them that it made Cas genuinely want to get to know them.
“I’m glad you could come,” Cas began, his voice soft but sincere, “I know it means a lot to Dean and Sam.”
Jo smiled. “Yeah, well, it was about time I met the girl who’s gonna marry that oversized giraffe.” She set her bottle down before adding, “Bobby’d be here too if it weren’t for the station. That place would practically fall apart without him.”
The corner of Cas’s mouth ticked upwards, “I can imagine.”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “Besides, he couldn’t leave Gordon without supervision, not after the way he’s been acting towards Dean.”
Cas’s face darkened at the reminder, but then a wicked smirk soon followed as he imagined Bobby laying into Gordon. The image was more satisfying than he wanted to admit.
Shaking off the thought, Cas turned his focus back to Jo. “So…how long have you known Sam and Dean?”
“A while,” Jo said, turning the bottle in her hand like it held the memories she was sifting through. “Ever since I was in middle school, actually. Bobby and my mom have always been good friends, so…after my dad died, and there was no one to watch me after school, Bobby would have me over at his house. And as it so happened, he’d sometimes have these two annoying little boys over.”
Cas chuckled, imagining the group of preteens flocking around Bobby’s front yard.
“And that’s how you grew so close?”
“Yeah.” Jo tilted her chin up. “They’re like brothers to me.”
After a beat of silence, Cas spoke up softly. “I’m sorry about your father.”
Jo’s gaze lingered on the doorway, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “It’s okay. I’ve moved on.” She turned to meet Cas’s eyes, her voice steady but warm. “Losing him—it shaped me, you know? Made me who I am. I’ve got a family here now. And I think… I think he’d be proud of me.”
Her fingers grazed the edge of the counter, as if grounding herself. “It doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. I always will. But I’ve learned to carry it instead of letting it carry me.”
Castiel nodded thoughtfully.
A comfortable quiet settled between them until Jo tilted her head, studying him with an expression Cas couldn’t quite place. He straightened up, slightly self-conscious.
“What?” he asked, his tone wary.
“Nothing,” Jo said, though her eyes sparkled with something mischievous. “Just…Dean talks about you so much, and sometimes it feels like I already know you, but…you’re a lot different than I thought you’d be.”
Cas raised a brow. “How so?”
Jo shrugged, leaning her hip against the counter. “I dunno, you’re just…different.”
A soft chuckle escaped him. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is,” she smiled. “Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but…from what I’ve seen, I think you’re good for Dean.”
The comment caught Cas off guard, his cheeks warming. He dipped his head in a quiet show of gratitude before glancing back up. “Thank you,” he said, more seriously this time. “He’s good for me too.”
Jo nodded, then squinted her eyes, studying something in Cas’s face. “You guys really like each other, huh?”
Cas met her gaze, unwavering. “Yes.”
Jo stepped closer, resting her elbows on the counter and looking up at him like she was about to reveal a secret. “I know Dean can be…difficult sometimes. I mean, I kinda grew up with the guy. I know how much he hides his emotions, how much he runs from things he thinks he doesn’t deserve.”
Cas scoffed softly, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “That sounds familiar.”
Jo’s tone shifted to something softer, almost pleading. “The thing is, when Dean loves, he loves hard. And that scares him.” She let out a deep breath, contemplating her next words. “Just…don’t give up on him, okay? Even though I know he can be an ass…he’s worth it.”
Cas blinked, stunned by the insight and the sincerity behind her words. He swallowed thickly and nodded. “I-I won’t,” he promised.
The sliding glass door rattled, cutting through the moment. A few seconds later, Dean was stepping inside the kitchen, a bottle of beer in his hand and an easy smirk on his face.
“There you two are,” Dean said, his eyes flicking between them. “Thought you were ditching us for the snacks or something.”
Jo straightened up, shooting Dean a casual grin that was similar to the looks often exchanged between Sam and Dean. “Just making sure Cas is ready. Don’t want him running off when the stories about your high school days come out.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Like I care what he knows, I can guarantee he’s heard worse.” He looked at Castiel with a warmth that made his chest tighten. “You coming?”
Cas nodded, following Dean out with Jo.
They stepped down the walkway, and out onto the patio, the warmth of the fire pit drawing them closer to the group. The familiar faces of Jess and Sam were easy to spot. Once they approached the circle, Cas glanced to his side where Max was lounging in one of the oversized chairs. Alicia, perched on the arm of his seat.
“Look who finally decided to join the party,” Jess teased, raising her beer in their direction.
Dean smirked as the three of them sat down, beers in hand. “Had to make sure Cas wasn’t plannin’ to bail on us.”
Cas gave Dean a pointed look, but then turned his eyes to the large, starry expanse before them. “I’m not sure I could find my way out of here if I wanted to. This place is very remote.”
“That’s the truth,” Max agreed. “Our GPS almost gave up on us twice, and that was just from driving from the airport to here. I can’t imagine how long it took you guys.”
“Oh uh, I don’t usually use GPS,” Dean chuckled, almost sounding proud of himself.
“Yes, unfortunately,” Cas grumbled, “he prefers paper maps.”
Both of the twins’ jaws dropped at learning that piece of information. “What are you, eighty?” Alicia giggled, dumbfounded.
The pride in Dean’s expression changed to stubbornness. “I drive a 67’ Chevy Impala, it kinda comes with the territory,” he grumbled, then rolled his eyes and sat back with his arms crossed. “Kids like y’all just don’t understand anything that’s not technology.”
Sam laughed, “you’re 26, Dean.”
“Exactly,” Dean wagged a finger playfully, “that’s why I have to keep you youngins in check.”
“So what you’re saying is…” Jo started cheekily, “you and Cas are the grandpas of the group?”
Castiel groaned inwardly at the reminder of his age.
“No,” Dean shook his head, and looked over at Cas with a teasing smirk, “more like the parents.”
Jo snickered, “Alright then, so who’s the mom and who’s the dad?”
That comment made both of the men flush a deep red, but more so Dean, who quickly responded. “I’m the Dad obviously. Cas is the mom.”
Cas’s brow lifted as he stared at Dean intensely, though he didn’t refute the claim.
“Okay, I don’t really know either of you guys,” Max put both of his hands up, trying not to cast offense, “but if we’re going off just vibes here…I think you’re the one with the mom energy, Dean.”
The tips of Dean’s ears burned as his mouth dropped open in disbelief. “H-how?”
“Yeah, I agree with Max.”
Dean’s brow’s furrowed. “Nobody cares what you think, Jo.”
“I think it’s because of what Sam’s told us about you,” Alicia chimed in carefully.
Dean shot Sam an irritated look.
“Hey, what can I say, Dean? You’re very nurturing.” Sam’s voice broke into laughter at the end of his sentence, which only aided in furthering Dean’s anger.
Without hesitation, Dean picked up a piece of loose gravel and chucked it at Sam. His younger brother managed to dodge it just in time, the small rock bouncing off the back of his chair and onto the ground. The group giggled, as Dean went back to pouting.
“You know,” Dean murmured, “if anything, you and Jess are the parents of the group. You’re the only couple here.”
“Fair,” Sam shrugged, looking over at Jess with a sappy look in his eyes.
Cas couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at Dean’s words.
“Well, mommy and daddy say it’s time to bring out the good stuff,” Jess declared as she stood up from her chair. “Be right back.”
Sam shook his head, watching her trot back to the house.
“Good stuff?” Max called back to Jess, but she was already out of ear shot, so he directed his next question at Sam. “You guys got somethin’ better than beer?”
Sam let out an amused sigh, “her parents have a whole stash of stuff.”
It was only a few minutes later that Jess returned with a bottle of whiskey, expensive looking and unopened, and a tray full of glasses.
“Are you sure your parents are good with us having this?” Alicia asked warily while Jess began setting the glasses down on a small table beside her and Sam’s seats.
“Yep,” Jess beamed, “they said anything in the house was up for grabs this week. It’s their graduation gift to me.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Dean sat his beer down and stood up, grabbing a glass, “gifts are meant for sharing.”
Jess rolled her eyes, though her wide smile betrayed her amusement as she poured into Dean’s glass. “Who’s next?”
The next hour was spent drinking and sharing stories, the warmth of the whiskey loosening tongues and brightening laughter. The fire crackled in the center of the group, throwing flickering shadows across their faces as conversation ebbed and flowed.
Cas found himself sinking into the moment, the usual tension in his shoulders easing as he listened to Dean recount a wildly exaggerated tale—this time about narrowly escaping a run-in with a bear on a camping trip.
“A bear?” Alicia repeated skeptically, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Swear on Baby,” Dean said, holding a hand to his heart.
“That poor bear was probably more scared of you than you were of it,” Sam said with a mix of amusement and concern.
“Ah nah, we got along great. I’m a natural bear whisperer.”
When the rest of the group eyed Dean doubtfully, Cas chimed in. “Yes,” he began with a mischievous smirk, “Dean loves bears.”
The humorous meaning in his words—though, at first, lost on Dean—caused a wave of laughter to erupt from the group. After the giggles started to quiet down, Dean shot him a look. It wasn’t anger, more of a well played, almost proud expression.
Although, he still had to uphold his reputation, so he threw up his middle finger at Cas.
Castiel simply smiled back at him, knowing the hint of truth behind the words, and was satisfied that he managed to make the group laugh.
As the conversations branched off into smaller groups, Cas kept quietly to himself, the sound of laughter and camaraderie ringing warm in his ears. Every now and then, Dean’s knee would brush against his, and Cas was acutely aware of the fleeting contact. The simple, unconscious, yet comfortable gesture, had a strange warmth blooming in his chest.
Time passed by lazily, as Cas watched Max and Alicia teasing Jo about her fire-poking skills while Jess leaned into Sam, murmuring something only he could hear. Cas stayed quiet, content to observe, until a flicker of movement caught his attention.
Sam had stood and was heading toward the dock, his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. He seemed deep in thought, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight glinting off the water.
Cas turned to Dean, catching him watching his brother with a thoughtful expression.
Dean noticed Cas’s gaze and gave him a faint smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly, nodding toward Sam.
Cas nodded, though he couldn’t quite shake the ache of Dean stepping away. He turned back to the fire, the warmth now feeling slightly cooler in Dean’s absence.
— (Dean’s POV)
Dean made his way down the weathered wooden planks of the dock, enjoying the thudding sound of his boots on the boards and the way the water sloshed against its supports below.
As he got closer to Sam, who was now standing at the very end, he took a deep breath. The cool air filled his lungs with the scent of fresh water and pine, a simultaneously refreshing and invigorating experience. The ripples of the lake dimly reflected the fire from the patio a couple yards away, although the moonlight certainly illuminated all the places the fire light couldn’t reach, including the outline of his younger brother’s tall frame.
Dean slowed his steps as he approached, his added weight making the dock creak and shift as he walked up behind his brother. There was nothing uncomfortable about the silence that surrounded them, it was a reflection of the quiet understanding they’ve shared since childhood.
Sam must have been expecting Dean to follow, because he didn’t turn to see who it was standing a pace or two away. He just sighed deeply, raising his head to the starry sky, his eyes shut in contentment.
After a few minutes of enjoying the quiet summer night, Sam finally looked behind his shoulder with a small smile. “Hey,” he said softly.
Dean walked up closer, their shoulders knocked into each other standing side by side. “Whatcha thinkin’?”
“Nothin,’” Sam shrugged, “just thinking.”
Dean’s nose scrunched at the non-answer, but then a realization washed over him. “Nervous?”
Sam exhaled, an undoubted shakiness in his breath, “kinda.”
A feeling, all too close to the nurturing and protective nature that Sam claimed he had, rose up to the surface of his heart. He laid a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, man.”
Sam scuffed a shoe against the wooden surface of the dock, “yeah, I know.”
“‘Sides, we’re all here for you and Jess. We’ll be right here tomorrow night, cheering you on.”
Sam met Dean’s gaze, a tight lipped smile showing his appreciation. “I’m grateful for that.”
Dean’s hand fell and he put them in his jean pockets before turning back to look at the group. “Max and Alicia seem nice,” he observed.
Sam took in a breath and turned to look with Dean. “Yeah, yeah they are.”
“You guys click well?”
“For sure,” Sam nodded.
Dean studied his brother’s face, a question surfacing. “Do they know?”
“No, but I was thinking about telling them tonight or tomorrow morning. I’m kinda gonna need all the help I can get.”
“That’s true,” Dean chuckled, looking out on the lake.
“I was planning on this being a little more intimate—you know, just people that are really close to us. But when Jess suggested they come, I couldn’t really explain why they shouldn’t.”
Dean made an understanding noise in his throat.
“It’s alright though. They really are good people and…I’m glad they’re here.”
There was a beat of silence when only the wind stirring the lake waters could be heard. Dean interrupted the moment by nudging into Sam. “Can I see it?”
Sam seemed confused at first, but when Dean nodded towards the fidgeting hand in his front pocket, it dawned on him. “Oh, yeah.” Slowly and carefully, he pulled out a small ring box.
Sam opened the box with a deliberate tenderness that spoke to how much the contents inside meant to him. Nestled in the pillowy center, was a delicate gold band with a modest yet striking oval-cut diamond that gleamed perfectly in the moonlight. Its center was surrounded by a halo of smaller stones that seemed to catch every flicker of light. The setting was classic but modern, understated yet undeniably elegant—perfect for Jess.
Dean whistled low, leaning in for a closer look. “Damn, Sammy. That’s classy. She’s gonna love it.”
“You think?” Sam asked, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
Dean straightened, his expression serious. “No doubt in my mind. You nailed it, man. This is her all over—simple, but it’s got that extra something. Sounds like her style to me.”
Sam chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought when I picked it out.”
As Dean continued to study the ring, he felt his throat start to tighten, the weight and reality of the moment setting in. He quickly averted his gaze to the lake, trying to swallow a lump that was steadily forming in his throat.
“Dean?” Sam’s tone was gentle but probing.
“I’m fine,” Dean said gruffly, jaw clenched with the determination not to reveal the torrent of emotions he was currently feeling.
“What—” Sam started, unconvinced. Without warning, and to hide the first tear that was beginning to fall down his cheek, Dean turned and wrapped his arms around Sam, pulling him into a firm hug.
Sam froze for a moment, startled, before relaxing and returning his brother’s hug. “Hey,” he whispered warmly.
Dean held on a second longer before stepping back, sniffling and clearing his throat. “Alright, don’t get all mushy on me now,” he said, as if he wasn’t the one crying like a despondent schoolgirl.
Sam laughed lightly, though his eyes stayed on Dean, concerned but fond. He took a deep breath, and as Dean shoved his hands back in his pockets, Sam spoke again. “You know... I want this for you too, Dean.”
Dean stiffened but Sam continued, “I know you said I deserve this kind of happiness, but…you know that you deserve it too, right? If anything, you probably deserve it more than me.”
Dean huffed a soft laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, okay. Well, when I find the person I wanna share the rest of my life with, I’ll let you know. ‘Till then, I think we should stick to one engagement per year.”
Sam kept his serious expression, not letting Dean mask his feelings with humor. “Dean, come on. I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Dean shot back, though there was an undeniably defensive edge to his tone. He glanced at Sam in confusion, not understanding why he was being so pushy about it. “What’re you trying to say?
And then, of course, Sam tilted his head toward the group, his gaze lingering meaningfully. He didn’t say a name, but Dean followed his line of sight. His stomach twisted when his eyes landed on Cas, who was laughing at something Jo was saying.
Dean flushed and quickly looked away, his pulse racing. It’s not like he and Cas were ever really subtle, but Sam had never been bold enough to just out right allude to a romantic relationship between them.
His face hardened in disappointment. “It’s not gonna happen, Sam,” he said quietly, the words rushed, as if he wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible.
Sam’s almost teasing smile, dropped to a frown. “How do you know?”
Shifting uncomfortably, Dean searched for the right excuse. “We’re... we’re not...” He trailed off, frustration seeping into his voice.
Sam placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, mirroring Dean’s touch from only a moment ago. “Don’t say something can’t work before you even try. You don’t have to rush into anything, but... don’t shut a door before you can walk through it, okay?”
Dean didn’t respond, his lips pressing into a thin line. But his silence was enough that Sam didn’t push further.
The moment was broken by Jo’s voice calling from the patio. “Hey! You two coming back or what?”
Dean exhaled, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on!” he shouted back, earning a laugh from Jo.
As they turned to walk back, Sam tapped Dean’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry if I over—”
Without stopping, or even looking back, Dean replied curtly over his shoulders. “You’re good, Sam, ‘s fine.”
The sigh his younger brother let out from behind him was unmistakable, and as guilty as Dean felt for acting like that towards him, the kid shouldn’t be talking about things he knew nothing about.
Especially when Dean already knew enough.
—
The night stretched on, and close to half an hour after Dean and Sam returned to their seats in the circle, a quiet drowsiness had settled over the group, the late hour evident in their softened voices and sluggish movements. The fire had burned down to embers, glowing faintly against the cool night air.
“Think I’m ready to crash,” Jo announced mid-yawn, rising to her seat with her empty bottles and glass in hand.
Sam nodded, stretching as he stood. “Yeah, we probably all should.”
“If Max can even stand,” Alicia giggled, a little unsteady herself.
“You guys care if I sleep out here?” Max’s eyes were half-lidded, words slurred with sleep and alcohol.
Jess joined the others, wrapping a blanket around herself. “You can, but fair warning, it can get chilly at night.”
Max groaned, tipping his head back dramatically as Alicia tried and failed to tug him to his feet, her own steps wavering. Eventually, she gave up, and the group began dispersing in pairs, their voices fading toward the house.
Only Dean, Cas, and Max remained around the dying fire.
Dean leaned back in his chair, savoring the last traces of warmth. Max was barely conscious, slumped in his seat, the gentle rhythm of his snores the only addition to the quiet. Cas hadn’t moved either, his gaze fixed on the glowing embers.
Dean glanced at his friend with a tired, yet warm smile. “Guess it’s just us.”
Cas tilted his head slightly and looked over at Max. “It does seem that way.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was comfortable but carried an undercurrent of something heavier—which had been a recurring theme between them for the past month.
They hadn’t talked much about their last scene. Or, more accurately, the conversation they had afterwards. Dean felt like shit because of it, but he just couldn’t make himself bring it up again. It already felt like Cas was walking on eggshells around him, careful not to overstep boundaries, or even initiate scenes.
And although work had been chaotic, there had been times Dean could have gone over to Cas’s place. There were chances for them to scene, but…they just haven’t.
It wasn’t rocket science, Dean knew why. He was the one who told Cas they couldn’t label what they were, so it made sense that Cas was scared of pushing Dean into something he wasn’t ready for.
But really, that wasn’t the problem. Dean had only given that excuse because he was buying time. He was living in a paradox where he didn’t want to let go of Cas but he also knew that they couldn’t truly be together, that ultimately, he would just bring Cas down.
Because he knew. Dean knew, that if they did do something—make it official—that Cas would come to his senses and realize that it was one thing to fuck each other, but it was an infinitely more complex thing to love.
Well, to love Dean that was.
Loving Cas was the easiest thing Dean’s ever done.
And as much as Dean would love to sit outside all night, daydreaming about Castiel loving him unconditionally, that there was nothing that Dean could do to screw it up, he knew the truth. He was just trying to spare himself the heartbreak while he could.
So, instead of doing the selfless thing and telling Cas they needed to move on, he wanted to dig his nails into his best friend and hold onto him for as long as he could.
It stung, sharp and hot in his chest to think about letting go of what they’ve been doing for the past few months. But being a good friend to Cas had to come first.
It would be selfish to keep Cas chained to him. He deserved to be happy, and he deserved to be loved by someone who had something else to offer besides daddy issues, borderline alcoholism, and a shit ton of other baggage that they only seemed to escape when getting their brains fucked out or a bottle emptied down their throat.
How could anyone commit to someone like that? Like him?
Dean knew Cas was smarter than that.
Dean stared forward, his eyes watered from the combination of dry heat and the lack of blinking. What flames were left of the fire cracked softly, a sound that might’ve been comforting if not for the war raging in his chest. He let out a long breath, barely noticing how his fingers tapped against his thigh.
It was a cruel irony, the way he wanted to reach for Cas, to be close to him, in the midst of trying to restrain from doing so. It was always the thing that helped most to curb his anxiety, and now, he couldn’t even have that.
Like he always did, Cas noticed his fidgeting and narrowed brow. “Dean,” Cas’s voice came softly, breaking through the outward silence and haze in his head.
“Yeah?” he responded instantly, turning to find Cas watching him. His blue eyes were sharp, but there was something softer underneath, like he was trying to untangle whatever was going on in Dean’s mind.
Now subconscious, Dean sat up straighter.
Cas’s face didn’t move a muscle. “What are you thinking about?”
On instinct, Dean opened his mouth to deflect. But when Cas’s gaze pinned him in place, patient and unwavering, Dean could only swallow down the words.
“Nothin’ really,” he muttered, but it was a weak answer, even to his own ears. He sighed, dropping his hand back to his lap. “Just... stuff.”
“Stuff,” Cas parroted thoughtfully.
Dean pursed his lips for a moment, then took a breath. “You know, the usual stuff. Life. Change.”
There was a flash of something behind Cas’s eyes, though Dean couldn’t tell what.
“I see.” Cas’s gravel-rough voice rumbled out. “Does this have to do with Sam?”
Dean shrugged. It wasn’t like he was gonna tell Cas what he was actually thinking about, so Sam getting married was as good of an answer as any. Plus, it was kind of true, in a sense.
“I guess,” he sighed.
Cas’s brows knit slightly, but he waited for Dean to elaborate.
“Just uh…” Dean shifted forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Him getting married and all that. Starting his new life, y’know?”
Gaze softening, Cas replied gently. “It is a big step.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed distantly, mind beginning to spiral on the topic. “I mean, at this rate, it won’t be long before he’s got a full-time job, a wife…maybe even kids.” His thumbs rubbed together and he stared down at them feeling a strange sense of sadness. “He’s just…got it all figured out.”
Cas remained quiet, seeing that there was more Dean wanted to say.
“I just—” he faltered, looking down at the glowing embers. “It just feels like—” He trailed off, struggling to find the words.
Cas matched his body language and leaned forward, his voice gentle as he finished the thought for him. “Like you’ll get left behind?”
Dean’s head jerked up, his eyes meeting Cas’s in surprise before he gave a small, reluctant nod. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, “guess so.”
Cas’s expression didn’t change, but the softness in his eyes deepened. “Dean,” he said carefully. “Sam’s not going anywhere. He’ll always be your brother, and that won’t change just because his life is evolving.”
“I know,” he acknowledged weakly.. “It’s not just that, though. It’s like… he’s got this whole bright, new future ahead of him—which, don’t get me wrong, that’s exactly what I want for him.” He breathed deeply. “But me? I’m just...I'm still in Kansas. Same job, same old crap with my dad, nothin’ new.” He laughed bitterly. “I haven’t accomplished anything, o-or even thought about a future that looks any different than what’s right in front a’me.”
Cas’s voice was quiet but firm when he finally spoke. “You’re not stuck, Dean. You’re moving forward in your own way. It might not look like Sam’s path, but that doesn’t make it any less important.”
Dean felt a pull in his chest, an almost-warmth. He wanted to believe his friend, he wanted to agree with him, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was just saying it because he had to. Dean knew there was a hole inside him, empty and worthless-feeling, and the more he tried to fill it up the emptier he got. And as comforting as Cas’s words might be, they were merely a blanket.
“You don’t have to follow Sam’s timeline or anyone else’s. You’re allowed to go at your own pace,” Cas added.
Unable to say anything else, Dean nodded slowly and exhaled. Despite the discouraging topic of their conversation, the remnants of alcohol in his system had him feeling loose and content. The compassionate tone in Cas’s words soothed the sharp edges of his mind.
The more their knees brushed as they sat by one another, the more his negative thoughts seemed to disappear. For just a moment—in these moments—Dean could just breathe and exist with Cas. Every worried thought, every doubt, was overshadowed by Cas’s steady and comforting presence.
“Thanks, Cas…” Dean whispered. Even though he may not have fully internalized Cas’s words, he was more grateful for the sincerity and genuine care his friend showed him. He wasn’t exactly an open book with everyone, for the very reason that he was often misunderstood or demeaned for his feelings. What he had with Cas, it was truly unmatched.
“Of course,” Cas smiled. That stupid fucking smile that made Dean’s heart melt instantly, that made him eternally grateful to have had any part in putting it on Cas’s face.
Dean’s fingers twitched, aching to be near him. But he didn’t want to risk Max waking up and seeing them, so instead, he opted to express his feelings another way.
“Y’know, Cas…”
His beautiful best friend, eyes shining in the low light of the dying campfire, tilted his head, waiting for Dean to finish his sentence.
“I know I’m shitty with words. A-and I know I don’t tell you enough how…how much I appreciate you. But um…” Dean’s throat closed up, his vocal chords giving out at the last second. For a moment, Dean thought Cas would finish the thought for him, or tell him something like, “it’s okay, Dean. You don’t have to say anything.”
But instead, he simply stared at Dean, his gaze, full of a hopeful fondness…full of…
Dean cleared his throat and willed himself to continue. “I need you to know that…you mean s-so much to me, man. I mean I can’t—I can’t even really put it into words. But…these past few months—they could’ve looked a lot different for me if it weren’t for you.”
He clenched his hands. “Even when I’m an ass towards you, and I fuck up and say something stupid…you’ve just…you’ve always been there. You helped me with my Dad, my job, and I can’t even express how grateful…how thankful I am that I have you in my life.”
When Dean dared to look into Cas’s eyes, there was a sheen of moisture covering them, a film that was too close to…sadness.
“I guess what ‘m tryna say is…”
I love you.
It would be so easy to just say it. Just let out those three words, let it be.
But he couldn’t. He had to be better than that.
“Thank you.” Dean swallowed down the painful lump in his throat. “For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for being a good friend, Dean.”
Cas was never one to accept gratitude, but this was so much more than Dean just saying ‘thank you for keeping me from drinking myself into the ground.’
He wanted—no, he needed Cas to know that there wasn’t much left on this Earth that could compare to how much he loved him, how much he adored him.
“Cas, I—”
Before he could get the rest of his words out, a particularly loud snore erupted from Max, still slumped like deadweight in the patio chair. The sound broke the fragile moment like glass. Both Dean and Cas turned their heads toward the source of the noise, startled, then looked at each other.
For a split second, the tension dissolved, and a laugh bubbled out of them in unison. It wasn’t loud or raucous, more like a soft chuckle of amusement.
“He seems peaceful,” Cas noted with a wry smile.
Dean chuckled again, though it was quieter this time, the weight of their interrupted conversation settling back over him. “Yeah.” As much as he wanted to, he didn’t try to finish his last words.
When the silence became thick enough to be noticeable, Cas took in a deep breath and looked up towards the cabin. “We should probably be getting to bed.”
It was more of a statement than an observation, still, the suggestion hit Dean in an unexpected way, a small pang of disappointment tightening in his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree—he was exhausted after driving all day—but the thought of their time together ending, even for the night, left him feeling hollow.
“Yeah,” he muttered, rising slowly from his chair. His hands slid down his jeans before he stretched. “Guess you’re right.”
Both of the men grabbed their glasses and bottles before beginning the small trek back to the cabin. As they walked by a still-passed-out Max, Dean stopped and asked, “should we just leave him out here?”
Cas halted his steps and turned. “Well…I’m not carrying him.”
Dean shrugged. “Fair enough.”
They walked back toward the house together, the sound of their footsteps crunching softly against the gravel. The summer night air was cooler now, biting lightly at Dean’s skin.
Inside, the warmth of the house greeted them, as well as the quiet, the others already tucked away in their rooms. As they walked down the hall, Dean clenched his jaw, thinking of something else to say. Cas stopped first as they got to his room. He turned to Dean with his hand resting on the doorframe. His eyes reflected the low light in the hall.
“Goodnight, Dean,” he said calmly.
Dean swallowed hard, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Night, Cas.”
They lingered for a moment, neither moving, until Cas gave him a small, tired smile and disappeared into his room. The door clicked softly behind him.
Dean stood there a beat longer, staring at the closed door with a tightness in his chest that made him want to knock, to say something, anything, just to keep the connection between them alive for just a little longer.
But he didn’t. He just turned toward his own room, the ache in his heart following him like a shadow. When Dean finally flopped onto his bed, the exhaustion hit him like a freight train. He sighed, letting his eyes close.
—
The smell of frying bacon and coffee brewing was the only thing that was able to pull Dean out of bed. It pained him to leave the too-big king sized mattress that seemed to swallow him in a neverending embrace. If he had it his way, he’d stay there forever.
Too bad his stomach had other priorities.
Dean stumbled out of his room in socks, shorts, and his Metallica t-shirt. Despite there being people here that he’d just met, he simply couldn’t be bothered to put on anything less comfortable. He rubbed his eyes while shuffling into the cabin’s kitchen. The low hum of conversation filled the space—Max and Jo sat at the dining table, debating whether waffles or pancakes were the superior breakfast food, while Jess and Alicia manned the stove, pouring batter into the pan with the precision of a surgeon.
Sam leaned against the counter, his tall frame making the massive kitchen feel somehow smaller as he mixed eggs in a bowl. And then there was Cas, who was standing by the coffee pot adding creamer to his mug with that same maddening precision. His sleep-mussed hair and soft morning expression almost made Dean walk back out of the room. Almost.
“There he is,” Jess chirped, spotting Dean and flipping a pancake onto a growing stack. “Morning, grumpy. You’re just in time to not help.”
Dean snorted and made a beeline for the coffee pot, brushing past Cas in the cramped space. His elbow accidentally bumped Cas’s, and the little spark of contact set his nerves alight. “Sorry,” Dean mumbled, focusing intently on pouring his coffee.
Cas glanced at him, and although Dean couldn’t see his expression with his own eyes facing forward, his voice was incredibly soft and warm. “You’re fine.”
Like last night, Max’s voice broke through the moment. His laughter rang over the sound of grease crackling in pans, as he mocked Jo’s pancake slander.
“Waffles are just the try-hards of pancakes,” Max scoffed.
Jo, who seemed to have abandoned all manner of joking, grew red in the face. “Just admit that you like basic foods. Waffles have structure, they aren’t just soggy, flat pieces of—”
“Waffles are way more soggy than pancakes.”
Max’s comment had Jo genuinely gasping in horror, but the wink that Max threw Dean as he joined them at the table, told him that Max was just enjoying teasing her.
Before Jo could huff out her retort, Dean changed the subject. “So Max, d’you sleep outside all night?” He smirked, lifting his steaming cup of coffee to his lips.
Max leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin on his face. “Just until the wolves showed up.”
Jo scoffed in annoyance.
“But it was all good, I scared them off.”
“Oh yeah,” Alicia called from the stove, “I’m sure the sight of you passed out and drooling all over yourself was just terrifying.”
Dean turned to Max, an amused eyebrow raised. “Drool?”
Max opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Sam. “Yeah, and the kid wouldn’t even wake up when we came out this morning.” Sam jerked his head to Cas who was stacking plates in preparation for the meal. “Cas and I almost had to carry him inside.”
“Would love to have seen that,” Jo snorted.
“Yeah, thanks for not doing that,” Max replied with a mix of horror and relief.
Jess grinned as she wiped her hands on a towel. “Alright, everyone. Food’s ready! Someone grab the silverware and let’s eat before it gets cold.”
Cas and Sam began laying down plates and silverware around the table while Alicia and Jess set out the food.
“This looks amazing guys,” Dean commented while rubbing his hands with excitement.
“You’re welcome,” Jess quipped, her tone playfully smug as she slid into her seat. “Just don’t inhale it all before the rest of us get a chance.”
“No promises,” Dean shot back, already piling scrambled eggs and bacon onto his plate.
The others followed suit, and soon the table was filled with the sounds of forks scraping against plates and contented murmurs of appreciation. Cas was seated next to Dean, a comfort and a torment considering the interrupted moment from last night. All Dean wanted to do was lean into him, or even place a hand on his leg, around his shoulder.
But, they weren’t scening, so he couldn’t.
Despite the rough outcome of their last public scene, Dean did remember how grounding it felt, having Cas to fall back on. Whether it was a comforting touch or a commanding one, it always helped Dean relax and feel more comfortable in himself. Plus, it gave him an excuse to live out the fantasy of him and Cas dating like normal people.
But doing that here would just be too weird with the intimacy of it all. Not to mention with what was happening tonight.
Dean would just have to accept what he could have and try to keep his hands to himself.
“So,” Max started, leaning back in his chair and gesturing toward Jo with a piece of half-eaten bacon, “now that we’ve settled the pancakes are superior debate, what’s the plan for the rest of today?”
“I will push you in that damn lake,” Jo threatened while pointing her fork at Max.
Max just smirked. “Thought we were swimming anyway, right?”
Alicia wiped her face with a napkin and looked at Jess. “Is it warm enough to swim?”
“Oh yeah, when the sun is out, it should be fine.”
“Oh, perfect,” Dean interjected with his mouth half-full. “The weather is supposed to be gorgeous today anyway.”
“Have you even looked at the weather?” Sam snorted.
Dean shrugged, “I got a special sense.”
“Special sense my ass,” Jo muttered before taking a sip of her coffee.
Cas spoke up softly, his voice cutting through the playful bickering with a calm certainty. “It is actually supposed to be nice today, just partly cloudy.”
Dean turned his head to Jo, a smug look on his face.
Max’s hands slapped on the table. “That settles it, I guess. I’ll see you guys out—”
“Um, hold on.” Jess waved her finger, “no one is doing anything until that kitchen is clean.”
Max groaned dramatically. “Can’t we do it later? It’s not going anywhere.”
“Neither is the lake,” Alicia joined Jess by standing up and gathering dishes.
Sam, obviously knowing better than to argue, chimed in with an annoying suggestion. “Dean, Max, and Jo didn’t help cook. Seems fair that the three of them should handle cleanup.”
“This is how you treat your own flesh and blood?” Dean deadpanned to his brother.
Sam’s only response was to nod while holding back a laugh.
“Unbelievable,” Dean shook his head.
“Alright, better get to it guys!”
Dean sighed, a low grumble escaping him as he pushed back from the table. Max and Jo mirrored his reluctance, but they all stood to start gathering the plates.
Cas rose as well, reaching for a stack of empty dishes. “I can help,” he offered.
With a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Dean turned toward him. “It’s fine, Cas. You’ve already done your part.”
Cas didn’t release the plate right away, their hands brushing briefly in the exchange. The faintest jolt of awareness shot through Dean’s fingers, and he glanced up, his eyes meeting Cas’s.
“I don’t mind,” Cas replied, his voice quiet but steady, as if challenging Dean to say otherwise. His fingers lingered on the plate and Dean’s stomach did a flip.
Clearing his throat, Dean’s smile shifted into something a little more lopsided. “Yeah, but if you pitch in now, what’s left for me to complain about?”
Cas had a smirk of his own forming in his expression. “I’m sure you’d find something,” he said, his tone dry but warm. His grip remained firm, and for the sake of everyone else in the room, Dean restrained himself from making an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat and jumping Cas’s bones.
“Alright, alright. You win,” Dean chuckled under his breath before stepping back, freeing the plate from his grasp as he moved toward the kitchen. He felt Cas’s gaze boring into the back of his neck, which was only heating up more by the minute.
Max was already at the sink with his sleeves rolled up, and since Jo and Cas had started with most of the clearing, Dean grabbed a towel to dry.
“Let us know when you guys are done!” Jess shouted from down the hall.
“And hurry up, we don’t wanna lose the daylight!” Alicia added, giggling.
Max and Dean grumbled, before setting to work.
By the time they were finished, the kitchen looked spotless, and the four of them looked far from it. Dean wiped a hand across his forehead, smearing a bit of dishwater there. Max and Jo were both damp and giggling as they wrestled over the towel, which was somehow more soaked than dry.
“Next time,” Dean said, tossing his own towel onto the counter, “we’re all drawing straws for this shit.”
Sam’s voice echoed from the dinning room where he had just walked in, “or, next time you can help cook.”
The group of dishwashers turned to face him, revealing Alicia and Jess who were standing beside, dressed in bathing suit tops and jean shorts.
“Seriously?” Max crossed his arms. “You guys aren’t even gonna wait for us?”
“Better go get cleaned up,” Alicia gave a wide smile and waved.
Max scoffed before taking off down the hall. Jo shook her head and followed suit, going to her own room to change, leaving Dean and Cas standing alone in the kitchen.
Dean lingered, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Did you bring swim trunks?” he asked, glancing over.
Cas shook his head, his expression almost sheepish. “I knew there was a lake…but I didn’t realize swimming was part of the plan.”
Dean let out a short laugh. “‘S’kay, I brought an extra pair. You can borrow ’em.”
Cas nodded, murmuring a soft, “thank you.” But Dean wasn’t paying much attention anymore.
As Cas turned toward the door, Dean’s mind wandered uninvited—but not unwelcome—to the sight of Cas in his swim trunks. His cheeks heated, the thought sending a rush of warmth up his neck. Cas may have been shorter but he was by no means smaller. If anything, he had much more defined thighs than Dean did, and the picture that his mind was painting of Cas squeezing into his 5 inch inseam swim shorts was only causing butterflies to swirl in his stomach.
As he walked to his room, Dean sent up a silent prayer that the water would be cold enough to hide the evidence of his attraction.
—
To his surprise—and eternal gratefulness—the water was, in fact, arctic. And while it may have been paralyzingly uncomfortable at first, it did the job Dean needed it to—get rid of his uncontrollable boner. Cas hadn’t even come out yet, but just the anticipation of seeing him half naked for the first time in a couple of weeks had Dean going a lot quicker than he thought it would.
Although Cas hadn’t come out yet, the dock was lively with everyone else. Max had been the first in the water, jumping in with a cannonball he clearly regretted judging by the way he yelped after hitting the icy water. Sam sat on the dock with a book in hand and legs swung over the side, his toes dipping in the water—it was almost comedic, considering Sam was the only one with legs long enough to reach. Jess was beside him, though she had chosen to lay on a towel and sunbathe instead of swim, and Alicia was rubbing sunscreen on Jo’s back.
A sudden splash of cold water sprayed Dean’s face, courtesy of Max, who emerged from beside him. He took a look at the dock and wiped his face. “Where’s Cas?”
Dean laid back, letting his weight float on the surface. “Changin’ I guess.”
A few seconds passed before the ladder on the dock started creaking as Alicia and Jo made their way into the lake.
“Jesus, Jess, I thought you said it would be warm,” Jo complained through chattering teeth as she finished climbing down the ladder and slipping into the dark water.
Jess sat up, sunglasses perched on her nose. “I said it should be fine enough to swim.”
“Jo’s just a baby,” Dean teased.
She threw Dean a glare, but was too busy acclimating to the water’s temperature to do much else.
A screech tore through the air, following a loud splash as Alicia fell off the ladder and into the lake, barely missing Jo beneath her. She rose to the surface coughing out the water she’d accidentally breathed in. It wasn’t until Dean spotted Max by the ladder that he realized what had happened.
“You’re an ass!” Alicia yelled out in a waterlogged voice.
Max just laughed, swimming away just before Alicia could splash him in the face.
Dean chuckled a bit himself. He couldn’t help but admire a good prank considering that’s what he used to torture Sam with for the first half of his life. He smiled, thinking about the memories and looking over to his brother who was completely lost to the world, head fully submerged in his book.
“You know what would make this even better?” Max sighed, attempting to float on the water but doing a terrible job.
Dean squinted one eye at the sun and looked over. “What’s that?”
“Beer.” Jo answered for him.
“And tubes,” Max added with a grumble.
Jess raised her hand, pointing to the backyard of the cabin, “there should be some in that shed.”
“Hey, Sam,” Dean called, making Sam look up from his book. “Would you be a dear?”
His brother shrugged, “I’m not swimming.”
“Yeah, which means you don’t have to climb out of this ice bath to get them.”
“Kinda sounds like a you problem.” Sam answered plainly and opened his book once again.
“Not it!” Jo and Alicia yelled almost in unison.
Dean looked over at Max. “I’ll get the beer, you get the tubes?”
“Deal.” Max agreed reluctantly.
Dean started paddling toward the dock, with Max swimming not far behind him. The icy water was no longer shocking, but it was still just cold enough to keep his mind sharp—and thankfully, elsewhere.
As they climbed the ladder, Dean cursed the cool breeze that immediately nipped at his skin. The water clung to him, dripping from his hair and running down his back in rivulets. Stepping on the dock, he began rubbing his arms for warmth.
Just before he grabbed his towel, the sound of footsteps made him pause. He glanced up.
Cas.
His friend strode down the dock, sun shining off his tan skin like some kind of Greek god stepping off Mount Olympus. His thighs strained deliciously against the fabric of Dean’s navy blue swim trunks, and the way his runner-toned body moved, lean and effortless—it was like the man didn’t even know how murderous he looked.
Dean swallowed thickly.
“Hey, Cas!” Jess greeted brightly, breaking Dean’s trance.
Cas replied with a small wave and a tight-lip smile.
Dean’s stomach twisted. He could feel his earlier problem threatening to return out here in the open—and the sight of Cas dressed like that wasn’t helping.
To Dean’s complete surprise, he wasn’t the only one who seemed to notice Cas’s appearance. Max stepped forward, bumping into Dean as he passed. “Damn, Cas,” he whistled, “you clean up nice.”
Cas blinked, stopping in his tracks. “Th-thank you,” he said hesitantly.
Max gestured at the swim shorts with a grin. “And nice shorts too.” His eyes lingered far too long on Castiel’s crotch area.
It not only shocked Dean, but it also had him clenching his jaw so hard it could’ve cracked.
Cas blushed, the color rising high on his cheeks as he fidgeted. “They’re Dean’s.”
Max paused mid-step, his grin faltering for just a second before he glanced back at Dean, a spark of something in his eye. “Oh. Well, they look great.”
Cas only nodded, clearly unsure how to handle the compliment.
Dean wasn’t sure of Max’s sexuality, but the borderline seriousness of his flirtatious tone stirred a faint, protective instinct in Dean. He barely restrained the urge to tell Max to back off. But realizing how that would come off, he just grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his shoulders as casually as he could manage before starting for the cabin.
“I’m grabbing beers,” he muttered, not waiting for a response.
He made it three steps before Cas spoke up behind him. “I’ll come with you.”
Dean stiffened, glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t have to.”
“I know.” Cas caught up to his side, giving him a smile. Dean’s jealousy instantly washed away at the expression. It was silly, but there was a part of him that felt smug, knowing that Cas would choose Dean any day of the week.
Probably.
And so Dean didn’t argue, especially not with Cas looking at him like that.
— (Cas’s POV)
As the two men walked back to the cabin Cas pulled at the bottom of his—well, Dean’s—shorts for the fifth time since he’d put them on. While Cas was grateful that Dean had lent him a pair so that he wouldn’t feel left out, they weren’t exactly the best fit. The length was fine, it was the tightness that was killing him. Typically, Cas didn’t put much thought into how he looked, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel a tiny bit self conscious.
Dean, on the other hand, was absolutely mouthwatering in his trunks. He was wearing green and black shorts, with a gray drawstring at the top. They framed his athletic legs and sat tightly around his hip bones.
Castiel’s fingers twitched at the thought of getting his hands on those sinful hips.
His fantasy was interrupted by the sound of the sliding glass door. Dean stepped through first, unwrapping the towel from around himself and using it to dry his hair.
“Don’t wanna drip on this expensive floor,” he explained, half bent over.
Cas nodded with a chuckle.
When he was finished, they walked into the kitchen. Dean moved to the fridge, yanking it open with more force than necessary, allowing the cold air to hit his face instantly. Cas could see the way he shuddered at the feeling.
“Beers, beers, beers,” Dean muttered to himself, grabbing one of the six-packs.
Cas leaned against the counter, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His mind drifted back to his encounter with Max on the dock. When the dark-skinned man had complimented him, it caught him off guard entirely. He wasn’t very good with social cues, but if he had to guess, it almost sounded like Max was being serious.
He took in a breath, debating whether or not he should ask Dean. After a beat, he did. “Was…was Max flirting with me earlier?”
Dean froze, hand still on the door of the fridge. He didn’t look at Cas immediately, instead he grabbed the rest of the beers and pulled them off the shelf. “What?” he asked, his voice sounded casual, yet strained.
Cas tilted his head slightly, trying to study him. “Max. Was he… flirting with me?”
Dean let out a wry laugh, the bottles clinked harshly as he set the last pack on the marble countertop. “I dunno. Prolly not.”
Cas wasn’t convinced. It felt like Dean wasn’t telling him what he truly thought. His brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he glanced toward the doorway. “He seemed serious.”
Dean scratched the back of his neck, his fingers catching on his damp hair. “If you ask me, I’d say Max is probably just the type to do that with anyone. He probably wasn’t tryin’ to be serious. Just his personality.”
The way Dean responded sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Cas. Realizing how his question might make Dean feel, Cas decided to shift the subject.
“Hmm,” he let out a thoughtful sound as he walked around the corner of the counter, stopping right beside Dean and leaning against it. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
In a second, Dean’s face changed from a pensive and serious expression to a playful one.
“So what, you think when I flirt with you that I ain’t bein’ serious?” His smirk matched the teasing sound in his tone. “Thought you knew me better than that.”
And just like that, Cas was drawn in. Hook, line, and sinker. He knew they were toeing the line, but screw it, he missed this too much to back out now.
“Well, that depends,” Catiel cocked his head to the side, leaning in just a hair’s length more.
Dean’s eyes trailed down, zeroing in on Castiel’s lips. “What do you mean?” he croaked out, voice breaking as soon as he finished saying the words, causing him to clear his throat.
Cas’s tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. “Are you flirting with me right now?”
Dean’s countenance shifted almost instantly, his beautiful lips parted just enough to let out a puff of air that Cas could feel the warmth of. The corner of his mouth pulled upward, eyes lidded as they held steady on Castiel’s own lips.
“What if I was?”
“Well,” Cas leaned in just close enough to whisper his next words. “It seems that you might have some competition, then.” With that, he grabbed a pack of beer, and turned to walk out, leaving Dean dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open.
Dean exhaled sharply, followed by some sort of muttered complaint that Cas couldn’t quite make out.
When Dean caught up with him at the glass door, he gave him a slight shove. Cas just laughed, glancing over his shoulder as they walked outside again.
“You can’t say shit like that,” Dean whispered harshly. At first, he sounded serious, but then Cas noticed the smile playing on his lips. “You know how competitive I am.”
—
The rest of the day passed by lazily. The water, although quite chilly, was especially refreshing by the time the 3pm sun came out and proceeded to bake them alive. Most everyone was in the lake now, either on tubes, or just floating on their backs. Jess was the only one who decided to stay on the dock, tanning away under the UV rays.
Jo, Alicia, and Sam floated aimlessly on tubes, their conversation and laughter mingling with the gentle lap of water against the dock. Cas trailed his fingers through the lake's surface as he leaned back in his own tube, the cool sensation soothing against the heat radiating from the sun. A half-empty beer rested against his thigh, condensation dripping into the water.
Dean and Max couldn’t seem to sit still. Dean was on his third attempt to flip Sam’s tube, determined to send his brother into the lake despite Sam’s increasingly creative methods of avoiding him. The clash of Sam’s protests and Dean’s laughter was as infectiously bright as it was unrelenting.
Max, on the other hand, wanted to see how far out he could swim before Jess yelled at him to come back, warning him of the freshwater monsters that could be lurking below. Max tried to play it off like he wasn’t scared, but the way his eyes widened with Jess’s warning made it obvious he wasn’t about to call her bluff.
The day went on, and Cas couldn’t help but stare at Dean. His movements were fluid, confident, the sun catching on the droplets of water that clung to his skin as he swam. His green and black swim trunks clung to his hips just so, and when Dean rolled onto his back to float, his face tilted up toward the sun, Cas’s chest tightened. The freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks were even more pronounced in the golden light, and Cas found himself wanting to kiss every single one. He’s swum with Dean before—as well as showered, of course—but he never seemed to get over the way water droplets clung to his eyelashes, or how his hair spiked up in the cutest way.
And as time passed, it became increasingly evident that, even with the glorious sight of the rocky mountains standing tall behind them, Cas only had eyes for Dean.
He smiled to himself, thinking of their moment in the kitchen. The subtle hints of Dean’s jealousy combined with Cas’s teasing made for the perfect concoction to create a very flustered Dean—one of Castiel’s favorite versions of him. And with the distance they’ve created since they’re last conversation about feelings, Castiel appreciated the normalcy of their playful flirting. Even when they didn’t have their dynamic, it was something they’d do casually, and Cas missed it.
Lost deep in his thoughts, Cas had floated further away from the group and had lost track of Dean. He whipped his head around, but was still unable to find him. Everyone else seemed accounted for, but he couldn’t seem to find Dean?
The answer came in the form of a sudden force rocking Cas’s tube violently to the side. Before he could react, the world flipped, and with an undignified splash, Cas plunged into the lake.
He surfaced with a sharp gasp, sputtering water as his hair plastered to his forehead. The laughter was immediate—Sam’s, Jo’s, even Jess’s—but Dean’s was the loudest of all, his laughter echoing obnoxiously across the water.
Cas pushed his wet hair back and shot Dean an unimpressed look. “Really?”
“What?” he said, raising his hands innocently. “You looked like you needed to cool off.”
Cas swiped the water from his face and muttered something under his breath. The others seemed to lose interest, returning to their own conversations, but Dean didn’t swim back to them. Instead, he drifted closer.
When he was just an arm’s length away, Dean leaned in, his voice low enough that only Cas could hear. “How’s that for flirting?”
Cas blinked at him, utterly unimpressed. “I’m swooning,” he said flatly, the sarcasm dripping as much as the water off his face.
Dean didn’t try to retort, instead, he reverted to his barbaric antics, splashing Cas with a decent amount of water right in his face.
Cas stuck his hand up too late, swallowing most of the mineral and earthy tasting water that had flooded his mouth. He coughed out as much as he could before wiping his face. “Well now you’re definitely not—”
Before Cas could finish, Dean splashed him again, this time harder, and it was on. The next few minutes were a chaotic mess of water flying in all directions, neither man willing to surrender. Cas’s precision was more accurate, but Dean’s sheer determination and force gave him an edge that made him the obvious victor. When they were both laughing too hard to aim properly, they finally called a truce.
“I think I’m gonna throw up, I just swallowed so much damn lake water,” Dean groaned as they began treading back towards the dock.
Cas shook his head, pulling the tube with one hand and paddling with the other. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Fair.”
Once they arrived back at the dock, Cas climbed—not so gracefully—back into his tube. He adjusted himself before looking at Dean with a frown. “I just realized you made me drop my beer.”
Dean playfully rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry your highness, I’ll get you another one.”
—
If Cas thought the rooms of Jess’s cabin were extravagant, they had nothing on the bathroom. The shower he was currently rinsing the lake water off in was like one he’d find in a fancy, high-rise apartment back in New York. Along with a large, square shower head that streamed down like a waterfall, the shower was also equipped with small jets that shot out from the sides. The marble floor was in pristine condition and reflected the warm, ambient lighting coming from the fixture above.
Shower sex wasn’t Cas’s favorite, but he’d certainly consider giving it a try here.
His muscles went lax under the warm spray, a comforting sensation after swimming in the frigid lake. He exhaled and closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against the shower wall. It was tempting to just curl up and fall asleep, but Cas knew Dean was waiting to shower next, so he couldn’t stay much longer.
With a sigh, Cas eventually turned the shower knob to off. The room was steamy enough that the mirror was completely fogged up, making it impossible for Cas to make out his reflection as he dried himself off with a—surprisingly—soft towel. Once he was properly dried and moisturized, Cas wrapped the large towel around his waist and packed up his toiletry bag.
Just as he was about to open the door and quickly dart to his room, a knock came from the other side.
“Cas?” Dean asked, voice muffled. “You done in there?”
Instead of answering verbally, Cas simply opened the door, figuring that Dean wouldn’t care about seeing him dressed in just a bath towel. When he finally came into view, Dean’s eyes widened, his mouth shutting instantly. Cas didn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes darted up and down his torso, or the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with a choked swallow.
A flush painted his cheekbones. “A-are you finished?”
Cas couldn’t help but smirk before running a hand through his wet hair. He cocked a brow, passing by Dean, their shoulders brushing. “All yours.”
Dean seemed stuck for a few seconds, not responding until Cas had finished crossing the hall. His friend spun around on his heels, pulling down the towel that had been slung around his own shoulders. “H-hey! Cas wait up a sec.”
After setting his toiletry bag down on the dresser near the door, Cas turned his attention back to Dean. “Yes?”
“I was gonna ask,” Dean began, obviously straining to keep his eyes on Cas’s face. “Max and Sam needed help, you know, setting up. I told them I would help distract Jess, would you mind givin’ them a hand?”
“Oh, not at all.”
“Thanks.” Dean nodded gratefully. “I’ll see you out there later.”
Cas smiled. “Sounds good, Dean.”
—
It didn’t take long for Cas to finish getting dressed, and as he made his way outside, he could hear the bustle of pots and pans in the kitchen—most likely the girls prepping for dinner. He snuck discreetly out of the sliding glass door.
The sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, casting the lake, and everything surrounding it, in a golden light. Down by the dock, Cas could spot Max and Sam chatting about something, a pile of various supplies sitting at their feet. When Sam noticed Castiel approaching, he waved him over. “Oh, thank God,” he exclaimed, “just in time.”
Cas eyed the supplies—candles, fairy lights, rose petals, and a roll of carpet.
“How can I help?”
“Do you know anything about decorating?” Sam asked in a worried tone. “We’re lost here, man.”
Max nodded in agreement.
“I’m afraid not,” Cas grimaced.
“Well.” Sam placed a hand on his hip and used the other to scratch his head. “Guess we’ll just have to figure it out together then.”
Cas tapped his chin, thinking about where to place things. “I can start lining the dock with candles?” he suggested.
Sam didn’t respond at first, a bit zoned out himself. Eventually he looked over, processing Cas’s words. “Oh, yeah. That works I guess.”
Cas gathered the bag of candles. “Are you sure Jess won’t see us?”
Sam chuckled, peering over anxiously at the cabin. “If Dean does his job, she won’t.”
“Well, let’s hope he does,” Max murmured.
“Yeah.” Cas agreed absently as he began searching for the lighter.
Max leaned over, waving the lighter with a small smile. "I’ll light them as you put them down?"
Cas gave a small smile, “yeah, okay.”
Together, they moved down the dock, Max lighting each candle as Cas carefully placed them along the edges.
Max asking to help him had Cas feeling a little strange. He still hadn’t figured out what Max meant by his comment earlier, and the fact that Max might consider this a chance to flirt more was worrying him.
For a while, they worked in companionable silence, with only the soft lapping of water against the posts and the distant sound of Sam talking to himself further down the dock. But then, as Max knelt to light another candle, he spoke up.
"Hey, uh..." he paused, glancing at Cas briefly before focusing on the candle he was lighting. "About earlier—what I said on the dock."
Cas tilted his head, looking up with a questioning expression, trying to hide the nervousness he was feeling inside.
Max straightened, fiddling sheepishly with the lighter. "I didn’t mean anything by it. Well, I meant it, but I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything.”
Cas blinked at him, then quickly shook his head. "Oh, no. I-It’s fine, really, it wasn’t weird. Many straight men have complimented me before, it’s not—”
Max full on belly laughed, overshadowing whatever Cas was going to say next. When he finally calmed down, he looked at Cas with a smile. “I’m gay, dude.”
“Oh.” Cas could feel his face turning red. He hated when people assumed his sexuality, and now he’d just done that with someone else… “I-I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Max shrugged. “I get called straight all the time, so I’m used to it.”
Cas nodded, knowing the feeling. But then, a realization washed over him—that meant Max had been flirting with him. And if this was Max trying to make his move, Cas wasn’t sure how he would explain that he was—kind of—taken, without revealing him and Dean.
"But yeah, it’s all good," Max said, smiling, but then his expression shifted, a touch more serious. "I just—again, about earlier—I didn’t know you and Dean were a thing, so..."
Cas froze, his fingers tightening around the candle in his hand. "Oh…uh, I mean—Dean and I aren’t—”
Raising a hand, Max cut him off with a chuckle. "It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I’m just saying, he’s a lucky guy. You both are."
Cas opened his mouth to respond but found himself completely at a loss for words. Before he could even attempt to piece together a coherent reply, Sam’s voice called out.
"Hey, when you guys are done, can one of you give me a hand with the petals?"
Cas blinked and turned toward Sam, who was attempting to roll out the carpet. When he glanced back, Max was already moving, leaving Cas standing alone with the last few candles.
He swallowed, unsure whether he was happy that Max thought he and Dean were a couple, or worried that he would say something to Dean about it. Or, perhaps even more importantly, who had told Max that he and Dean were a thing.
It’s not like Dean hadn’t pretended to be boyfriend’s with Cas for the sake of the moment—like with that sheriff who caught them in baby—but it was different when a stranger thought they were dating and when Dean’s close friends and family thought it. If Dean was already—seemingly—terrified of Cas putting a label on their relationship, then Cas would hate to see how he reacted to someone else doing it.
Still, there was always that subtle satisfaction that Cas felt in his chest whenever someone picked up on the fact that Dean was his. As long as Max didn’t say anything about it, Cas didn’t mind enjoying the thought of someone thinking they were together.
He sighed to himself, deciding to worry about it later, and continued setting out the candles.
— (Dean’s POV)
“Please tell me you aren’t burning the hamburger meat.” Jess asked frantically as she ran over to Dean who was standing in front of a steaming pan.
“Nope,” Dean assured her. “This is called ‘browning the meat.’”
Jess peered over at the sizzling ground beef. “Alright…” she seceded.
Dean tried not to feel offended at her lack of confidence in his cooking skills. Though, to be fair, she hadn’t been able to witness first hand his ability to make the best spaghetti known to mankind until now.
“How’s the sauce?” He glanced over at the other side of the stove where Jo was mixing a large pot of tomato sauce—his recipe. The garlic and tomato aroma, combined with the smell of cooking ground beef, was heavenly. It was safe to say that everyone was starving after a full day of swimming and playing in the lake, and when Jess had suggested spaghetti, it was met with wholehearted agreement.
Jo lifted her spoon and swiped just a bit from the tip, then licked the sauce off her finger. She smacked her lips a few times before deciding that, “it needs more salt.”
“Lemme.” Dean waved his free hand, gesturing for Jo to let him have a taste. The sauce was hot, but not enough to burn his tongue. He let the flavor sit in his mouth for a second or two before agreeing with her.
“Yeah, just a pinch more.”
Jo reached for the salt shaker, sprinkling in a bit before stirring the sauce again. Jess, who was now satisfied that the meat wasn’t ruined, turned her attention to Alicia, who was chopping carrots next to a large glass bowl filled with other ingredients for salad.
“I’ll chop the peppers,” Jess said, stepping up to the counter and picking up a second knife.
Dean went back to stirring the meat.
When Sam suggested that he help the girls cook, he’d happily agreed. He liked cooking, and despite how his homophobic and misogynistic father might feel about Dean’s enjoyment of the activity, he loved doing it anyway. Hell, if it weren’t for him taking care of Sam growing up, he probably wouldn’t even know how to cook half as well as he did now, and who’s fault was that anyway?
Shaking off the negative thoughts, Dean went back to chatting with the girls.
As the four of them worked, Jess kept glancing up at the clock. “Where are the rest of the guys? I thought they were just cleaning up and putting the lake stuff away?”
“Eh, you know how Sam is. He probably made a whole project of organizing the shed.” He tried to keep his tone as neutral and as casual as possible.
Jess narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced. However, she was still too concerned about finishing the meal to inquire much further.
A few minutes passed, and by the time Dean and Jo combined the sauce, meat, and noodles to make a delicious-smelling pot of spaghetti, Alicia and Jess were nearly finished with the salad and garlic bread.
“Okay, that just goes in the oven.” Jess sat the pan of garlic buttered bread into the oven and shut the door. “And now we’re pretty much done.” She wiped her hands on a dish towel and took a look around the kitchen. Dean could see the subtle curiosity about where the rest of the group was shift to full on suspicion.
She folded her arms and turned to Dean. “Okay, where the hell are they?”
Dean turned off the burner under the pasta and covered the pot with a lid. “Why don’t you go find out?” he suggested with a smile.
Jess squinted again, confused and even more suspicious. Before she agreed, she made sure everything was covered and kept warm for later, then she followed Dean and the other girls out of the sliding glass door. As they stepped outside, Jo threw Dean a knowing look, a mischievous grin growing on both their faces.
Jess pushed to the front of the group, eager to investigate. As soon as the others parted from her way, she gasped, seeing the dock, about 30 feet or so away, lined up and down with candles.
She froze immediately, hands flying up to her chest. With wide eyes, she looked at Dean, who looked back at her with a wide smile.
“N-no…” she whispered in disbelief. “Is that—is he—”
Dean’s hand brushed against her elbow, gently encouraging her to keep walking. “Let’s go see.”
As Jess and Dean began making their way down the patio stones and towards the dock, Jo and Alicia met up with Max and Cas, who were standing off to the side.
The timing had been absolutely perfect. The sun was barely peeking over the mountains, just about to set. It casted a pinkish, golden glow over the whole lake—a magnificent backdrop to Sam’s set up. Which, Dean could honestly say he was surprised he put it together so well.
The candles stood out the most, lined on each side of the dock with flickering little flames. A roll of thin white carpet laid in the middle, starting from the beginning of the dock and stretching all the way to the end. And finally, rose petals, sprinkled here and there, adding a perfect romantic touch.
Jess looked enchanted, her eyes reflected both the candle light and the light of the sunset from behind.
The air was a perfect temperature, cool but only because of a slight breeze that rippled across the lake, shaking the flames of the candles. It smelled heavenly, and helped to add a nice sound of water lapping against the dock, nature's own music.
Once they stepped up to the beginning of Sam’s makeshift runway, Dean removed his hand, letting Jess start the rest of the walk by herself. The poor girl already looked close to tears as she stared at Sam standing at the end of the dock, hands clasped behind himself with the doopiest smile on his face.
Dean would never admit that he was probably equally close to crying. Though, he hid it well, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the dam from breaking.
Once Jess began her promenade down the dock, Dean joined the others who watched from the side. Out of instinct, he locked on Cas, making his way to his side. He tried to keep his head down, afraid that making eye contact would set loose the floodgates. But then Cas nudged him with his shoulder and looked over at him with the most beautiful, infectious smile that Dean couldn’t help but return.
The five of them watched from a distance, fondness written all over each of their faces. When Jess finally reached the end, Sam took her hand, drawing her near and saying a few words. From their vantage point, the group couldn’t hear anything, but it was probably better that way, more intimate for Sam and Jess. They could, however, see when Sam dropped to one knee, hands held out with a small box in his palm, and Jess’s hands flying up to her face, the glistening of her eyes unmistakable.
A few seconds later, Jess was nodding vigorously, the sound of happy tears echoed across the lake. Sam didn’t waste a minute, scooping her up in a tight hug which she herself flung into. In that moment, the group didn’t need to hear the word to know she had said yes.
Eventually, their hug turned into Sam sweeping her off her feet, literally. He carried her back down the dock bridal style, despite her laughing protests. The glow of candles framed them perfectly, and Dean knew Jess was going to be obsessed with the pictures Alicia and Jo were getting from their phones.
When they reached the end, Sam set her down, but not before giving her a prolonged kiss. They only managed to notice the others when Max whistled loudly, catching their attention. Jess giggled, shaking her head at her friends. “Okay, how many of you were in on this?”
“All of them,” Sam explained with a laugh.
“Congratulations guys,” Jo was the first to say before she pulled both of them in for a hug.
The rest of the group gave their congratulations, sentiments, and hugs, each commenting on how beautiful the ring was. And Dean let them all go first, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he were to try.
When Jess finally gasped in horror, exclaiming that the garlic bread was most likely burnt before running up the hill, everyone else followed her, ready to help the now bride-to-be.
Sam trailed behind though, walking up beside Dean as the rest of the group made their slow ascent to the cabin.
Dean didn’t say anything, he just put his arms over Sam’s shoulders and pulled him in for a hug as if he was still shorter than him, still his little dork brother that he’d known all his life. There was a sniffle from both of the men, but this time, neither brushed off the emotions. Instead, they let them settle, burying their faces in each other’s shoulders.
“I love you, Sammy,” Dean whispered with a gravel-rough voice.
Sam nodded. “Love you too, Dean.”
When they backed away, Dean didn’t want to let go. He gave Sam a watery smile, squeezing his shoulder before dropping his hand.
“I’m so happy for you, man.” Dean exhaled, stuffing his hands back in his pockets.
Sam blushed and looked away with a shy grin. “I still can’t believe she said yes.”
Dean bit his cheek. Usually, he would tease Sam about stuff like this, but not this time.
“I can.” Sam met his eyes and Dean continued, “I mean, you guys are perfect for each other. And…you deserve her, man.”
His little brother nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I know I’m gonna work as hard as I can to keep deserving her.”
A wide smile painted Dean’s face. He threw an arm over Sam’s shoulders and shook him before they started walking up the hill. “That’s my boy.”
Sam laughed, batting away Dean’s hand as he tried to ruffle his hair. Dean smirked, settling for a light shove instead. “Alright, let’s go get some food. I’m starving.”
—
The soft hum of conversation and the crackling fireplace lingered in the air as the group settled into the living room. The remnants of dinner and celebration—empty champagne flutes, scattered plates, and the faint scent of garlic and tomato—spoke to a night well-spent. Dean could still feel the warmth of the glass he’d nursed earlier, and he wasn’t the only one. Jo, Alicia, and Max had already bowed out, their slurred goodnight’s fading down the hall as they stumbled off to their rooms.
Sam, Jess, Cas, and Dean were all that was left of the group. With only six seats between the two couches, Dean had settled on the floor in front of the middle seat, where Jo had been sitting cross-legged. Now that she was gone, he could have moved up to claim her spot. But with Cas sitting to his left, his leg pressed warmly against Dean’s shoulder, Dean found he didn’t mind the hard floor—not if it meant keeping that small point of contact.
“You know,” Jess said, breaking the lull, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this full in my life.”
The others hummed in agreement.
“That sauce was delicious,” Sam commented, his words slightly slurred, the combination of tiredness and wine finally catching up to him.
“Thanks,” Dean smirked and looked up, “my culinary genius isn’t appreciated enough.”
“Genius is a stretch.”
“That’s not what you said when I added ketchup to your mac n cheese growing up.”
“Okay, well that was the palate of a twelve year old talking.”
“Ketchup in your mac n cheese?” Jess asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
Dean laughed, his buzz making everything a little funnier. “Yeah, Jess, that’s the kinda freak you’re marrying.”
“Yeah…I’m sorry babe, that might be a dealbreaker.”
Sam’s expression immediately morphed into a defensive one. “I was twelve!”
“Like you still wouldn’t eat it today,” Dean snorted.
“I am never letting you talk to my fiance again,” Sam mostly deadpanned, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Damn, sounds kinda controlling—”
Dean was unsurprised by the pillow hitting his face.
“Do you even realize the shit I could tell Cas about you?”
The threat didn’t bother Dean because he thought Sam could say anything to Cas that would scare him away, but it did cause something in his stomach to twist at the implication that Cas meant the same to him as Jess did to Sam.
Cas, who had been observing the banter quietly, looked down at Dean with a questioning brow raised.
Dean cleared his throat, “Eh, I think I’ve already done enough to gross him out.” He looked up at his best friend, meeting his gaze. “He hasn’t left me yet.”
“This is true,” Cas gave him a soft, genuine smile.
Jess yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “Alright, I think I’m officially falling into a food coma.”
Sam smirked, leaning in to rub his nose against her cheek. “Need me to carry you up the stairs, too?”
“Hmm, maybe I do,” she replied sweetly before cupping Sam’s face and kissing him.
Dean faked a gag, unable to help himself. “Please try to keep it down tonight. Some of us don’t want nightmares.”
Jess snorted and stood before pulling Sam up from his spot. “No promises.”
Dean groaned but Sam just grinned. “Sweet dreams, Dean,” he called as he followed Jess out like a puppy on a leash.
In true brotherly fashion, Dean flipped him off right before they were out of sight.
“Isn’t their room right above yours?” Cas asked as serious as ever.
Dean pondered the information for a few seconds before replying. “I’m not sleeping at all am I?”
Cas laughed, “it’s very possible.”
Now that Sam and Jess were gone—leaving Cas and Dean by themselves—Dean felt himself exhale, relaxing into his spot on the floor. The warmth of the fireplace, combined with the residual flush from his earlier drinks, made him feel almost liquid, melting against the couch’s back like a content puddle.
Cas’s leg was still emitting heat from where it was pressed into his upper arm, had Dean feeling bold and comforted all at once. Without thinking, he scooted closer and laid his head on Cas’s knee.
Cas’s jeans were rough against his face, but his leg was warm and so he sank into it. There was a slight stiffening through Cas’s body, but it didn’t last long, and within seconds, his hand found its way to Dean’s head. Fingers carded through his hair, stroking softly and slowly, trailing down to his neck and rubbing there gingerly.
The fire hissing and popping was the only sound left to cover Dean’s soft, content moans. Tipsy and pliant, he couldn’t bring himself to care how he sounded.
When his ass started feeling numb, he shifted, leaning more of his body against Cas’s leg. He brought his arm up, wrapping it around Cas’s shin.
There was an uptick in Cas’s breathing. He inhaled sharply, hands stilling in Dean’s hair. “Dean…” his voice was just above a whisper.
Dean kept his eyes closed, hoping that Cas would let him continue. His movements were all muscle memory, which was no surprise considering how desperately he ached to be near Cas.
That same desperate need thrummed through him as he inched his hand up, burying his face in Cas’s warmth. His other hand parted Cas’s legs, making a space for himself to slip between.
“Dean.” This time, his voice was more thick.
Dean persisted, eyes squeezed shut as he turned his face, lips trailing against the denim until he was kneeling between Cas’s parted legs, head buried against his thigh, although now, with his arms bracketing them, hands clutching in tightly.
Dean should’ve been content to just stay like this, kneeling and resting in front of Cas in the way he’d been craving for the past few weeks. But then, the alcohol buzzing through his veins began making his thoughts wander. Tipsy and a little too aware of the warmth and closeness of Cas, his body reacted on instinct. The urge to get closer—touch, tease, something—became impossible to ignore.
Dean looked up just barely, his eyelids drooping in a way that told Cas he wanted something. A small sound left his throat as his hands moved to Cas’s hips, not gripping hard, just hovering over his skin, featherlight touches. Then he circled around to the zipper of Cas’s pants, eyes locked with blue ones as he popped the button open.
Immediately, Cas’s breath sped up. In a flash in Dean’s peripheral, he could see hands that had been lying to the side, fly to his wrists, stopping his movements.
At first, his heart clenched with the fear of rejection. But then he realized that Cas was shoving him away in a manner that was very unlike him. After ending up back in his previous spot, Dean noticed Cas scurrying in a panic to get a throw pillow over his lap.
Clarity finally struck when he heard the shuffling of feet and creaking of wood from the hallway to the left. He quickly worked to make himself look normal and not like he was just about to blow his best friend in Sam's future in-law’s living room.
The footsteps only grew louder, until finally someone was emerging from the dark hallway. The light from the fire was low, but enough for Dean to make out Jo standing in the doorframe looking like she’d already had an hour or so of sleep.
“Hey,” she murmured right before a yawn. Both Dean and Cas greeted her nervously. Dean was praying that Jo was too tired to pick up on what they were doing just moments before.
“Don’t mind me, jus’ goin’ to the kitchen.” With squinted eyes, Jo walked through the living room, barely sparing them a glance.
As soon as she was out of sight, the pair of men let out a sigh of relief.
“That was close,” Dean chuckled and looked back up at Cas who was also smiling, a blush coloring his cheekbones—Dean didn’t know whether it was from the alcohol or arousal, but one thing he knew was that his face was definitely matching.
“Probably best not to do that here.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Dean replied with sarcastic seriousness while simultaneously sneaking his hand back up Cas’s leg.
The look on Cas’s face made it seem that he almost wanted to give in, yet, it didn’t stop him from gently pushing Dean’s hand away. The younger man made a whining sound in protest, but Cas just gave him a lopsided grin fueled by booze and no small amount of cheekiness, as he nodded his head towards the once again approaching footsteps.
About that time, Jo came walking back through with a glass of water in hand. If it weren’t for her speaking earlier, Dean would’ve thought she was sleep walking. Both men watched in amusement as she shuffled her way back to her room.
“Y’know, that’s probably what we should be doing,” Cas acknowledged with a sigh.
“Sleeping or drinking water?”
“Both,” Cas chuckled, “but mainly sleeping.”
Whatever Dean was going to respond with was cut off by the feeling of Cas leaning in and grazing his forehead with a soft kiss. Dean sighed and closed his eyes at the contact. A thumb rubbed gently over his face. “Goodnight, Dean.” The words were whispered and they had Dean’s heart fluttering.
Agan, before he could gather a response, Cas was already up and out of the room, leaving Dean sitting there, stunned and breathless. The silence that followed felt deafening, the faint roar of his own blood rushing in his ears the only sound to fill the void.
For a moment, he sat frozen, replaying the moment in his head. Maybe it was the champagne dulling his doubts or, perhaps, making him braver than usual, but Dean had a feeling that Cas’s goodnight wasn’t really a goodnight—that it was more of an…invitation.
And if it wasn’t? Well, there was only one way to find out.
— (Cas’s POV)
Cas felt like he was back in high school.
The giddy and reckless, sneaking around with a secret crush kind of feeling. He couldn’t help but smile—he didn’t hate the feeling one bit. It was probably the intoxication that was causing the effect, but still.
When he had told Dean goodnight, he hoped he’d made the hint clear enough. And even if Dean had decided to take what he’d said about sleeping seriously, Castiel wouldn’t be mad at him—maybe just a bit disappointed.
Time passed moment by moment, the alcohol in his system keeping him on edge, ready to see if Dean was going to come. Somewhere in his ever-sobering mind, he realized that this wasn’t the best idea. But hey, how much more could he fuck this relationship up?
Before he could convince himself to the contrary, the sound of the creaking hinges cut through his thoughts. He was turned away from the door, in nothing but boxers, curled up under the covers. He didn’t move when the door shut, but his breathing quickened in suspense.
Finally, the bed dipped with an unmistakable weight.
Cas expected to feel a hand, or maybe the press of a body against his, but after one long minute of nothing, he started to feel worried. He turned his head sharply, just to quiet the paranoid thoughts that told him Dean had left, or worse, that someone else had come in.
But no, Dean was there, sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes wide, reflecting the moonlight streaming in from the large window beside them. Uncertainty, yet want, was written all over his face as he licked his lips nervously. Cas lowered his gaze to Dean’s hands that were fidgeting with the covers, then back up to his beautiful eyes.
“Dean?” He started off as gently as he could.
Dean took a breath in, “Cas, I—”
Castiel waited for him to finish, but he just seemed to trail off.
Deciding to give him a little help, Cas asked, “what are you doing in here?” It wasn’t a serious question, more of a ‘I know why you’re here, but now I want you to tell me why.’
Dean swallowed. “I need…”
“You need what?”
Dean inched closer, the action didn’t appear purposeful, more of an instinctual reaction. His jaw lowered, but still not a peep came from his lips. Cas moved too, sitting up on his knees. They were no more than a foot apart, close enough that Castiel could hear his beautiful boy’s nervous breaths.
“Words, Dean,” he murmured, voice dropping a few octaves—not far from his Dom voice.
“You,” Dean finally croaked out. “I need you.”
It was an instant and equal reaction, neither truly taking the lead, when they finally clashed together. Castiel’s hands ended up cupping the back of Dean’s head, while Dean’s slipped under his arms, pawing and grappling at his back muscles. Their bodies were hot and flushed from their inebriation, and from being in front of the fire for so long, and so they melted into each other. Cas was sure it would be painful to part.
Their kiss was deep, but gentle. The desperation Cas had been expecting from both of them ended up being more of a soft, contentedness. Dea’s mouth vibrated against his with a satisfied moan, which Castiel enthusiastically returned. He couldn’t help but tug at the short strands of golden brown hair that laid near his neckline, and judging by Dean’s squirming, it had been the right call.
They moved against one another, spit trailed against lips, sometimes wandering to other parts, neck, collarbone. Eventually, Dean became impatient enough that he pushed Castiel back on the bed. Cas landed with a grunt, taking in a deep breath as he beheld his love above him, lips glistening with spit, and pupils blown to complete fullness. His chest was heaving too, and it was only then that Castiel noticed he wasn’t shirtless.
“Off.” Cas blurted the command out—though, there was an unmistakable hint of supplication to his voice.
It didn’t phase Dean one bit, however, as he instantly reached for the bottom hem of his t-shirt, pulling it off like one of those magazine models doing a photoshoot. Cas tried to enjoy the sight, but all he could think about was how much it hurt to know this view didn’t truly belong to him. That someone else, one day, would get to behold Dean Winchester stripping for them as he straddled their thighs.
He wouldn’t have been able to stop the growl that crawled up from his throat even if he’d tried. Nor would he have been able to stop how he reached for Dean like a wild animal, pulling him down on top of him. This time, their kiss was more fierce, a mix of tongue and teeth. His hands slid down Dean’s bare back—he could feel the chills spread like wildfire.
When he reached his destination—Dean’s ass—he grabbed onto the flesh with a harsh grip. Dean panted and whimpered against his mouth, “Cas, please…” It was senseless begging. There was nothing that could stop Castiel from giving Dean anything and everything he wanted in this moment.
All dynamics, even the illusions of them, were thrown out the window. It felt, maybe for the first time, like he was just with Dean.
A tad overwhelmed, Castiel moved to nose at Dean’s neck, smelling his scent to ground himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and simply enjoyed the way that Dean’s weight felt on top of him.
Dean wasn’t having it though. Cas could tell he'd come on a mission.
“Cas, I want you,” he groaned while Castiel began sucking bruises into his skin. He let out a few hitched breaths. Both of their erections were growing by the second, hardening as they lined up perfectly against each other. “I want you.” Dean let out the words in a harsh whisper.
In Cas’s lust-consumed mind, he felt a spark of annoyance at being interrupted from his feast on Dean’s neck. Still, he couldn’t deny his love of anything.
He rolled them over in a quick and smooth motion, and Dean’s yelp wasn’t one of protest, but of surprised satisfaction.
“You want me?” he asked breathlessly.
Dean’s brows pinched upwards, his eyes locked on Cas’s lips above him. He swallowed, before catching his breath. “Yes.” The answer was clear, not a hint of uncertainty.
Cas shifted and pressed a knee into Dean’s groin. He was pleased, at least, that Dean was only in boxers. Dean moaned at the pressure, pushing up into it.
“How do you want me, Dean?”
Dean’s eyes flew open, hands stilling on Castiel’s sides. “I-I can choose?”
Castiel hummed in confirmation, leaning in to resume marking Dean’s neck.
“How–however I want?”
“However you want,” he mumbled hot and wet against his skin.
Dean preened under the affection, moans flowing freely from his mouth. While Dean was thinking of his decision, Cas started leaving a trail of kisses down Dean’s body, beginning at his collarbone, then to his chest. He made sure to stop at Dean’s nipples, licking and teasing them with his teeth, just the way Dean liked.
“C-Cas…fuck…wait—”
He could, but it would be much more fun for Dean to stop him himself. Once he got to Dean’s torso, the soft skin of his belly yielding to the pressure of each kiss, Dean finally made him stop by grabbing his hair—not tightly, and certainly not in the way that Cas usually does it to him—but it was enough that Cas looked up with a devilish smirk.
“Cas…do we have—do you have stuff?”
Cas paused, face dropping at the realization. “Shit.”
Dean let his head fall back with a sigh. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“You know there are other…means…” Cas suggested, smirk reappearing.
“We are not using spit.”
Cas threw him an offended look. “Not what I meant.” After the words were spoken, he began kissing down Dean’s abdomen again. Once he got to his boxers, he laid on his stomach, hands latched on the hem at the top.
“Cas…” Dean whimpered when Cas began mouthing at the outline of his dick. His humid breath darkened the blue fabric of his boxers.
“You want my mouth, Dean?” Cas asked between opened-mouth kisses to his thigh and bulge. “I’ll take you so deep, sweetheart.”
“I—” Tears were already forming in Dean’s beautiful, pleading eyes. His fists gripped at the oversized comforter, legs spread to make room for Cas.
Cas hummed again, answering for him as he slipped the boxers down. He tucked the fabric under Dean’s balls, revealing his dick, firm and weeping for attention. He wasted little time, grabbing on to the base and licking the tip lightly. Dean shivered, hips bucking faintly at the contact.
Cas pursed his lips, letting a dollop of spit fall on the head of Dean’s dick, dribbling down. He stroked his member, getting it wet. Then, he took Dean into his mouth. It stretched his lips wide, but he loved the feeling. He loved how Dean whined and squirmed, then stilled when Cas gripped his hips and pinned him to the bed. He loved how Dean fell apart under his ministrations, trying his best not to let go.
When the tip of his cock hit that back of his throat, Cas willed himself not to gag. He shoved it as far as it could go—surely an obscene sight—before completely removing his mouth, swallowing a gasp of air.
“Fuckin’ hell, Cas…” Dean whispered, sitting up on his elbows.
Panting, lips slick with drool and precum, Cas looked at Dean. “You want to fuck my face?”
There was a mixed expression on Dean’s face. “I…um…”
Cas felt his chest tighten. He suggested it because he thought Dean would want to, but now he was feeling mortified that that may not be the case.
“That sounds—I mean, I would like that—but…”
Cas waited a few seconds. “But?”
“I want…something…”
Cas rose to his knees, hands still at Dean’s hips. “Anything, Dean.”
“…closer. I-I wanna be closer…”
Cas froze, his breath stalling. That wasn’t what he’d expected Dean to say. Not that he minded, of course, he would take any chance he could get to be close to Dean.
“Okay,” he replied softly. “We can do that.”
Dean nodded, hands reaching for Cas, begging for nearness.
Granting him his wish, Cas crawled back up and captured Dean’s lips in a kiss. It was slow and savoured. Since Dean hadn’t given him any exact directions, Castiel decided to take matters into his own hands. Interlocking their legs, he rolled over on his side so that they were facing each other, foreheads pressed together.
Dean let out a breathy sound, as Cas slid down his own boxers, lining their shafts up perfectly. He spit on his hand once more, adding to the slickness of Dean’s already coated dick. Thankfully, his hand was large enough to encase both of them, and so he began stroking, slow and deliberate.
Dean’s eyes squeezed shut as he pushed his forehead even more into Cas’s. When Cas twisted his fist in a particularly satisfying motion, Dean responded by grabbing onto Cas’s face and leaning in for, what would be considered, a kiss, except this was more of moaning into each other’s mouths, breathing each other’s air.
“Hgnnn…Cas…fuck—fuck—”
“You feel so good, baby—” Cas groaned, his free hand around Dean’s waist, pressing into the small of his back to increase the pressure.
“Oh…I need you, Cas—ah…I need you, please…” Cas wasn’t sure if Dean even knew what he was pleading for.
“I know, Dean, I know. You have me…” he sped up his movements, fist flying slick and hot in between their stomachs. “You’ve always had me.”
When they came, it was together. Their bodies went rigid, both of them tensing under the pleasure. Castiel could’ve sworn he saw stars—or maybe it was just the light reflecting in Dean’s eyes, tears fracturing the light even more. He gripped onto Dean like his life depended on it, and even when he thought he didn’t have an ounce of energy left, he pressed his lips to Dean’s.
Dean was so pliant, melted like butter in Cas’s arms.
A few, blissful minutes passed. When the cum on his hands began to dry, Cas reluctantly pulled himself away from Dean’s embrace. Instantly, Dean let out a low whine of protest, and with his own tired hands he tried to keep Cas from leaving.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I just need to clean us up.” Cas murmured, pressing a kiss to Dean’s temple before carefully extracting himself.
After retrieving a wet cloth, Cas cleaned both of them as best he could in the dim light. Dean stirred faintly, mumbling something incoherent, his face soft with a blissed-out smile. Cas couldn’t help but smile back, his heart swelling in his chest.
When he finally crawled back into bed, Dean instinctively shifted toward him, wrapping an arm lazily around Cas’s waist. Cas gathered him close, letting himself relax into the warmth and weight of Dean against him. He nuzzled into Dean’s hair, breathing in the faint scent of alcohol and the lingering tang of sweat and sex.
For a moment, Cas let himself savor the peace, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Dean’s arm. But then his thoughts intruded—the reality of the situation sobering him almost instantly.
He glanced at the faint glow of the clock on the nightstand, and he thought about what it would mean if Dean stayed till morning. If anyone saw them like this, tangled together, it would raise questions neither of them were ready to answer. But as he tightened his hold on Dean, he found he couldn’t bring himself to care for the moment.
Still, even as he tried to drift into a peaceful contentment, his mind wouldn’t let him fully rest. How could he, knowing that tomorrow this little fantasy would disappear. Dean would tell him that he needed space or that they shouldn’t have done what they did. And Cas’s whole world would come crashing down again.
He couldn’t help but think about his job offer. The one from New York. He hadn’t told Dean yet. Hadn’t told anyone. He kept thinking he had time, that he could push it off for just a little longer. But the more he delayed, the deeper he found himself falling for Dean, and the harder it would be to make a decision when the time came.
He closed his eyes, his thoughts a mess of what-ifs and maybes. In the haze of post-intimacy bliss, exhaustion, and lingering effects of champagne, he spoke before he could stop himself.
“Dean?”
Dean’s breaths were slow and steady but no snores. Cas couldn’t tell if he was awake.
“Dean, are you awake?” he asked softly, almost hoping there wouldn’t be an answer.
Dean shifted slightly, his arm tightening around Cas as a low, contented sound rumbled in his throat.
Cas swallowed, hesitating. Then he just went for it.
“There’s something... something I haven’t told you,” he began, his voice unsteady. “I got a job offer.”
No response.
“In New York,” Cas continued, his words spilling out now. “They gave me a month to respond. But… I haven’t given them an answer yet.”
Still, Dean remained the same, his face buried against Cas’s chest.
“Dean?” Cas tried again, his voice a little louder this time.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the sound of Dean’s breathing, which, after a few minutes evolved into soft snores. Cas’s chest felt heavy, but he couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t leave this hanging, even if Dean couldn’t hear him.
Cas let out a shaky breath, his chest tightening as he whispered into the stillness, “I don’t want to go, Dean. I don’t because—”
A thickness settled in his throat. He’d never said this out loud, even to himself. And maybe he shouldn’t say it now, for even the smallest chance that Dean could hear.
But he had to say it just once, he had to.
“I—”
He paused, the weight of his confession pulling at him.
“I love you.”
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Cas felt both lighter and heavier all at once. He closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling him under before he could dwell on what he’d just confessed.
Morning would come soon enough.
Notes:
And so begins the last leg of the story. It's kinda rough BUT this story does of have a happy ending, I promise. :)
Again, happy holidays everyone! Please share your thoughts, I’d love to hear.
Chapter 16
Summary:
- Switching POV's.
- TW's: mentions and depictions of alcoholism, struggles with self worth/self hating thoughts.
Notes:
I know I keep disappearing on you guys...
Although, this time it was to write this one shot! It's not related to this story, but it helped me to get out of a bit of writer's block. Definitely check it out if you love some sexy, sweet, and a tiny bit angsty, canon-compliant Destiel!
Anyway, I worked very hard on this chapter. Enjoy. :)
(Also, March 5th marked the one year anniversary of me starting this fic AND March 10th was my birthday! Lots to celebrate for me!)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Dean’s POV)
It didn’t hit Dean until the middle of the night.
Well, probably more like early morning. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but there was a tint to the sky which Dean could see from the large window in Cas’s room that told him sunrise wasn’t far away.
At first, he didn’t realize why he was awake, or why his heart was beating like a drum in his chest. He hadn’t had a nightmare—that he could recall—in fact, he’d been entirely content ever since he set foot in Cas’s room.
So why was he all of the sudden itchy, sweaty, and anxious?
He tried to swallow around the dryness in his throat, replaying the events of the night in his mind.
He remembered feeling drunk on endorphins—and still somewhat on champagne—and he remembered how warm and sated he felt lying against Cas’s chest—the sturdy, comforting, feeling of his body moving up and down with slow breaths. It was all a perfect combination for a nice, deep sleep, and one which Dean had quickly been falling into.
But then there was a rumbling noise—Cas’s voice.
It was difficult to hear, almost like being underwater. The first thing Dean remembered hearing was Cas harshly whispering his name, a few times actually, before asking if he was awake. Dean tried to brush off the response with a noncommittal sound, hoping Cas would let Dean drift back to sleep.
And, okay, maybe Dean was a little too aware of the usual topics of their post-coital talks—and he was doing everything he could to avoid having another one.
Still, the rumbling of Cas’s sleepy, rough voice continued.
Dean desperately tried to ignore it, hoping that Cas would accept his unconscious state, yet, Dean’s lack of responses didn’t seem to disway him from speaking.
“I got a job offer…In New York.”
That’s what had made Dean freeze, a cold chill running through his body, nauseating and almost painful. Still, he didn’t respond. Deciding that he would rather pretend this was the beginning of some sort of dream—or nightmare—than wake up and face it.
“They gave me a month to respond…but I haven’t given them an answer yet.”
The words streamed out, making Dean’s skin prickle as if needles were sticking him one by one. He hadn’t really processed the meaning behind the words, but the undeniable implications seeped in, making him squeeze his eyes even tighter, keeping his face buried against Cas’s chest.
“Dean?”
His friend’s voice was soft and gentle, almost enough to make Dean open his eyes—just to see the way Cas was undoubtedly looking at him.
But no. He’d decided that whatever Cas was going on about could wait until morning, when Dean wasn’t finally teetering on the edge of a near-perfect bliss. For then, he needed that moment, and he needed it without the weight of anything else attached to it.
After Dean had returned his question with even more silence, Cas didn’t seem to make any further attempts. His breaths returned to the steady rhythm it had been previously, which helped to soothe and lull him back towards the precipice of sleep. He let himself sink into the sound, the tension in his body ebbing away as sleep pulled at him, heavy and irresistible.
Just as his consciousness had begun to blur, he thought he heard something else—a faint murmur, low and somewhat tentative, slipping past Cas’s lips and rumbling again through his chest. Dean couldn’t quite make it out in his drowsy haze, but to be quite honest, he didn’t really try to.
Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Not with the warmth beside him, the soft cadence of Cas’s breathing. Though, the last thing Dean remembered before sleep claimed him was the feeling of worry ebbing away at him.
After replaying the memories in his head, Dean sat up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to ground himself.
What the hell did Cas tell him and why was it just hitting him now?
Was Cas leaving?
Was he moving?
The more he thought, the more Dean’s dry throat grew thick. With a quick glance, Dean’s eyes found Cas cuddled up under the large comforter. He was so beautiful with the ever-approaching dawn light giving a pale color to his face. His eyes weren’t squeezed shut, and there wasn’t a hint of tension stitched in his brow, or any other part of his face for that matter.
He looked completely at peace.
Which confused Dean.
Cas didn’t look like he had a care in the world—yet, he’d just told Dean the most earth-shattering, horrific news of his life. Dean chewed on his bottom lip until it threatened to bleed.
Although, maybe it wasn’t earth-shattering to Cas.
Maybe it was a good thing to him.
With clumsy haste, Dean fumbled out of the bed. He could feel his breathing speed up, eyes already stinging as he began leaning against the window frame for support.
Was that really how Cas felt? He just wanted to leave? He wanted to move back, after everything they’ve been through together?
To be fair, that had been what Dean had always envisioned ever since he met him. Dean could still remember one of their first conversations when he was just getting to know him. Cas was so put-together, smart, successful, that it almost made Dean want to abandon the growing friendship because it was obvious they were in very different leagues.
And even though he didn’t, he still always knew Cas was gonna go far. Way farther than fucking Kansas.
Way further than him.
But the realization that it was coming true now, of all times? It hurt like a bitch.
Before he could hightail it to his own room to continue his little existential crisis, a soft noise drew his attention back to the bed. He whipped his head around at the sound of his name being whispered from the darker corner of the room.
“Dean?” The rumble of Cas’s tired voice had Dean’s heart doing flips in his chest.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah?”
There was the sound of movement, then Dean could see Cas’s shadowed silhouette sit up halfway, resting on his elbows. “Are you okay?” His voice was louder now, a hint of worry in his tone.
Dean wasn’t okay, but it’s not like he was gonna have an argument with him now. Although, he wasn’t really feeling climbing back into bed and pretending everything was fine, either.
“‘M good, Cas. Go back to sleep.”
The deflect failed, and despite Cas’s face being shrouded in darkness, Dean could still make out the way his brow pinched forward in concern.
“What are you doing?”
Dean sighed. He knew there wasn’t any way to brush him off now. When Cas got it in his head that something was wrong with Dean, he never let it go.
“Just…” he started, padding back to the bed and slipping under the covers again. Once he was situated next to Cas, he rolled over on his side to face him. Cas mirrored his position, lowering himself to the bed, eyes locked intently on Dean.
Dean’s own gaze lingered on the bed, unable to look Cas in his eyes. “Had a nightmare ‘s all,” he half-lied.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Cas’s words were said with such gentleness, that it almost made Dean say yes.
“Nah,” he exhaled the word and closed his eyes, hoping that would be the end of it.
His breath stopped as soon as he felt the warm embrace of a hand cupping his face. It felt like time itself halted, everything zeroing in on that single point of contact. A thumb brushed his cheek, and Dean was absolutely certain that if he opened his eyes, they would flood with tears.
“It’s okay,” Cas whispered. And Dean wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but in the current state he was in, he couldn’t help but believe him.
The hand slid slowly around to his neck, finger’s caressing his skin lightly before adding pressure. Before Dean could even react, his head was being drawn towards Cas. The warm press of lips to his forehead had Dean finally letting out the breath he’d been holding. He sunk into it, allowing every worry or fear to drift away as Cas breathed onto his skin.
There might have been a whimper or two that escaped him, but Dean chose to ignore it for the sake of scooting closer to Cas. It was a welcomed movement, as Cas positioned himself so that Dean could cuddle up under his chin, nuzzling into his lower neck.
Arms wrapped around him, trapping him.
As the seconds passed, Dean hoped and prayed that Cas had fallen back asleep since he was positive he was crying now. If Cas was awake, he must not have felt the moisture that was surely gathering where Dean’s face was pressed against him, because he didn’t say anything. Instead, he seemed to hug Dean tighter.
Dean drew in a shaky breath, finally extending his own arm to wrap around Cas’s waist. The skin of Cas’s back was warm under his hand, and the feeling had Dean snuggling in impossibly closer.
He couldn’t help the low hum of satisfaction that sounded softly in his throat. The way they were pressed together felt so much more intimate than any of the times they had sex, and that feeling was both comforting and terrifying.
It felt similar to when they slept together in Cas’s motel room on their way to California, when Cas had looked at him with such love and asked him to stay. It felt like when Cas pieced him back together after his drop, and how they woke up in each other’s arms, snuggling and playing together like a real couple. It felt like every time Cas’s palms cupped his face, or whenever their knees brushed while sitting at Cas’s kitchen island.
In all of those moments, Dean had felt their connection the strongest. It felt like, in a world where Dean never got to have much, he had Cas, for even just a second.
If he could trade having sex with Cas for holding him like this every single night of his life, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
Dean felt an onset of fresh tears welling in his eyes.
He loved Cas so much it hurt.
He didn’t want him to leave.
He didn’t want to watch Cas wave goodbye on the airport steps, bags packed, ready for a new and more promising life.
And he knew that made him selfish.
But that was the funny thing about love—it was impossible to be selfish with people you love. Dean wanted what was best for his friend. He wanted him to excel in a career, to find happiness, find someone who made him happy.
So as much as it felt like ripping out his own heart, Dean couldn’t beg Cas to stay.
Could he be pissed that Cas didn’t tell him about this until now? Hell yeah.
But that didn’t mean he was going to try and convince Cas to abandon everything for him.
He couldn’t.
— (Cas’s POV)
Dean was gone when Cas woke up.
At first, his drowsy mind barely registered the absence, but as the fog of sleep cleared, a sickening panic began to stir inside him. He bolted upright, scanning the room frantically, his heart thundering like it was trying to escape his ribs.
A fuzzy memory flashed through his mind—he had a vague recollection of Dean waking up last night from a nightmare. It was possible the nightmare had made him leave, but the more he dwelt on it, the less confident he felt. He couldn’t help the way his thoughts immediately latched onto the words he had whispered before falling asleep.
What had he been thinking? He was such an idiot.
Cas tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. The vulnerability he’d allowed himself—no, the vulnerability he had forced on Dean—had regret biting at the edges of his mind.
And now Dean was gone, and it was very possible that it was because Cas had freaked him out. Which, it made complete sense—if Dean had heard him, then of course he was going to run the first chance he got. He didn’t even want to label their relationship as anything more than friends with benefits, and now Cas had to go and open his stupid fucking mouth, all because he felt so strongly for Dean that he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
His gaze darted to the empty spot on the bed beside him, then to the door, as if willing Dean to walk back in and tell him everything was fine. That it didn’t matter. That Cas hadn’t overstepped, hadn’t made an irreparable mistake.
But the silence in the room was deafening.
Dean wasn’t coming.
Anxiety still bubbling under his skin, Cas made himself get out of bed and get dressed. Their original plan for today, if he was correct, was to get a quick breakfast and hit the road as soon as possible, that way they could make it home at a decent hour. He was pretty sure Dean had wanted to leave by nine at the latest.
Cas glanced at the clock on the nightstand which read 8:36am, and immediately felt a mix of anxiety and relief. For one thing, the time being so late could mean Dean had just left so that he wouldn’t be caught leaving Cas’s room in broad daylight, not because Cas had freaked him out.
However, it also meant he only had 24 minutes to get ready.
Frantically, Cas rummaged through the drawers, pulling out all of his clothing and stuffing it into his bags. Once he was sure he’d packed everything in the room, he opened his door and peeked his head out into the hallway. After seeing that the coast was clear, he ran to the bathroom.
The image of his reflection in the mirror was…concerning, to say the least. His hair was much wilder than usual—a product of last night’s events most likely—and a comb, unfortunately, didn’t do much to tame the mess, but it was better than nothing.
After his things were collected and he brushed his teeth, Cas hurried back to his room to add the rest of his things to his bags. He’d just finished zipping up the last pocket when a knock came from his door. It made his heart skip a beat, breath stalling.
“Hello?” He blurted anxiously.
“Cas?” Dean’s voice was barely recognizable through the thick door, but Cas still knew it was him.
“I-I’m in here—I mean, you can come in.”
The door opened slowly and Dean stepped in even more so.
His expression was…strange. He didn’t look upset, which was what Cas had feared he’d be, but he definitely wasn’t wearing the easygoing smile he usually did.
“You’re up.” Dean observed.
“Yes, I’m sorry if I overslept. I never set my alarm and—“ Cas let his eyes drift back to his bag on the bed. “I didn’t hear you get up, either.”
Dean nodded, “‘S fine.”
As the silence settled in the room, Cas shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Is there—did you eat breakfast?”
“Yeah,” Dean replied at first, then blinked and shook his head, “I mean, kinda. Everybody else is still sleeping so I just found some cereal.”
“Oh.”
“No milk though,” Dean added distantly, his gaze fixed on the window on the other side of the room.
Cas picked up his bag, swinging the strap over his shoulder. “That’s fine. I can just get something on the road.”
“Okay.” Dean exhaled, and it wasn’t until then that Cas could see the dark circles under his eyes. “Sam’s up though, if you want to say bye on our way out.”
“Yes, of course.”
A tight lip smile pulled at the corners of Dean’s mouth as he turned to leave the room.
The anxiety that had previously dissipated was now back in full force. Although Dean hadn’t said anything, it was clear to Cas that something was very wrong.
And now, he was going to make it his mission to find out exactly what.
—
“Thanks for coming, Cas. Seriously, I—we really appreciate it.”
Castiel smiled warmly, leaning into Sam’s outstretched arms. “Of course, Sam. It was an honor.”
The three men were standing in the driveway, Dean and Cas’s bags already loaded in Baby. As Sam and Cas said their goodbyes, Dean remained a few yards away, his phone held up to his ear.
Cas backed up from the hug, putting his hands in his pockets and threw a worried glance at Dean. “Did he say who called him?”
Sam’s mouth tightened into a frown. “No, but from the way he’s talking…” the taller man exhaled a long sigh, shaking his head, “my guess is our dad.”
Cas nodded thoughtfully, his eyes locked on Dean. He wanted to be surprised that Dean had even answered the call, but deep down, he knew—Dean would never be able to fully let John go. At least, not until he gave himself full permission to do so. And by the looks of it, that was not happening anytime soon.
Still, it worried him. Anything involving that man could never be good.
He was shaken out of his worries when Sam nudged his shoulder lightly. “Hey,” he gave him a small smile, “you okay?”
His fingers curled in the fabric of his coat as he tried to return the smile—probably failing miserably. “I’m fine,” he replied weakly, eyes flickering back to Dean, who was now combing fingers through his hair in frustration.
Sam’s breathy chuckle drew his attention back. “I grew up with a guy who used that line on me 24/7. I’m pretty good at recognizing when someone’s lying to me with it.”
Cas lowered his gaze to the ground.
“Is this about Dean?” Sam asked quietly.
It was useless to lie at this point. “Yes,” Cas sighed, looking over at his best friend. “We just have a few things to…figure out, I suppose.”
Sam nodded. “I understand.”
When Cas didn’t respond, Sam added, “I’m not gonna pry. What’s between you two is your own business, but…” He took a deep breath and joined Cas in looking at Dean. “You should probably know that Dean—”
“Hides his feelings?” Cas finished for him.
Sam huffed a quiet laugh, though there was little humor in it. “Yeah,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Not exactly breaking news, huh?” His smile was faint, but his eyes were knowing, heavy with the weight of years spent watching his brother bury things too deep.
“Sometimes,” Sam went on, more serious now, “he just needs a push. Y’know?”
Cas nodded.
“I never really understood it growing up, but Dean has always tended to…deny himself things, good things. Whether it’s because he doesn’t think he deserves something, or that he thinks others deserve it more than him…it’s always been something he’s struggled with. Still does.” Sam exhaled sadly, “As bad as it sounds, sometimes, good things have to be forced on him.”
Cas kept quiet, his gaze still fixed on Dean. His brows furrowed slightly, lips pressing into a thin line as Sam’s words settled in his mind. Well, he surely had forced his feelings on Dean last night. Whether or not that was a good thing was a different question.
“No—Dad—” Dean’s rough voice cut through their conversation. “How are you—just let me—” With a few more angered grunts, Dean finally pulled his phone away and hung up before pocketing it in his jeans. A few seconds of awkward silence passed as Dean stroked his chin—something he always did when he thought about what to do.
Eventually, he walked over to the other men, fists balled in his front pockets.
“Is everything okay?” Sam asked, voice laced with concern.
“Peachy.”
Neither of them pressed the issue, understanding that Dean obviously wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever their Dad was up to.
“You ready?” Dean murmured to Cas, not looking him in the eye.
“Yes.” Cas looked to Sam, “I hope to see you soon. Please tell the others I said goodbye.”
“Yeah, same here, Cas, and will do.” The younger brother grinned, reaching out a hand to pat his shoulder.
Cas smiled, then, sensing that Dean wanted to say his goodbye to Sam in privacy, he walked over to the Impala and slipped into the passenger seat.
He couldn’t help but watch curiously from inside the car as Dean and Sam exchanged a few words, then embraced in a quick hug. He was to Dean’s back, so he could only see Sam’s expression as they pulled away—there was something sorrowful in his eyes.
Sam gave Dean a shoulder pat of his own before going back inside.
The driver’s door opened with a creak, and Dean slid in, letting out a heavy breath as he adjusted the wheel. He stared ahead for a moment, his jaw tight as Cas did his best not to observe him too closely.
Then he started the engine, the familiar hum of the Impala filling the air, and without a word, he shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the cabin.
—(Dean’s POV)
Dean’s skin was itching like crazy. From the events of last night to his dad calling him out of the blue with that news, it was all driving him insane, making him irritable.
He felt guilty about it, of course. It wasn’t Cas’s fault—well, not all of it—and yet, he was getting the brunt of Dean’s attitude. Which was mostly just silence, since talking probably would've pushed him over the edge. Yet, despite the subtle worry Dean could see written on his face, Cas seemed content enough to allow them to drive in silence, which Dean was grateful for.
Their eight hour drive went by slowly but surely, the scenery keeping Cas's attention throughout most of it, as he stared out the window quietly. Dean spent the time contemplating, thinking over what his Dad told him, and what Cas had let slip out last night.
About an hour from home, Dean pulled into a gas station off the highway, the neon open sign buzzing weakly in the dusk. The Impala rolled to a stop beside a pump, the engine cutting off with a low rumble.
Dean flexed his hands on the wheel before letting go. “Gonna fill ‘er up,” he muttered, reaching for the door handle.
Cas nodded, stretching slightly in his seat. “I’ll grab some water.”
Dean gave a small nod. The evening air was cooler now, the wind carrying the scent of gasoline and asphalt as he stepped out and started pumping. He kept his eyes on the numbers climbing on the screen, his mind still spinning.
Cas came back a few minutes later, a water bottle in one hand and a gas station coffee in the other. He wordlessly offered the coffee, and Dean took it with a raised brow.
“You didn’t—”
Cas shook his head. “I got it for you.”
Dean huffed a quiet laugh that had Cas smiling in return—a sight Dean never got tired of—before taking a sip. It wasn’t half bad, considering the source. “Not bad,” he admitted.
Cas hummed. “I figured you could use it.”
Dean nodded, tossing the gas receipt in the trash next to the pump before he slid back in. Cas followed suit, settling in as Dean started the car again. They eased onto the road, the gas station fading into the rearview mirror.
A few miles passed before Cas finally spoke again, his voice careful. “Dean.”
Dean flicked his eyes toward him before returning them to the road. “Yeah?”
Cas hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the cap of his water bottle. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he started slowly, “but…what did your father call about?”
Dean’s jaw flexed as he exhaled through his nose. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I figured you’d ask eventually.”
Cas looked at him sheepishly.
“I haven’t…” Dean paused, pursing his lips as he fought back the guilt. “I haven’t been keeping tabs on him, y’know, since Sam’s graduation.”
“I remember,” Cas replied softly. “I thought you said you didn’t want to deal with his self-sabotage anymore?”
“Yeah,” Dean scoffed at the words—if only.
“Well, I guess even with all the other stuff I did for him, I never thought to check on his mortgage payments, ‘cause apparently, he hasn’t been paying any of ‘em since last year.” Dean’s upper lip curled in disdain. “Probably been blowing his disability check on drinks this whole time.”
Cas shook his head with a sigh.
“Anyway, long story short, the damn house foreclosed and he put off telling me until the fucking sheriff showed up with a court order.”
Dean glanced over, unsurprised by his friend’s look of disbelief.
“And now, I don’t know where the hell he’s gonna go—”
“Where was he when he called you?”
“On a bus. With probably the only money he’s got left.”
“Where was it headed?”
Dean smirked grimly. “Kansas City.”
“To your apartment? Does he even have a key?”
Dean nodded. “I guess. And yeah, and I'm definitely regretting giving him one now.”
Cas looked at Dean with pity.
Dean tried to ignore it, eyes narrowing at the road as he let out a wry laugh. “And you know the real kicker? He doesn’t even ask. Doesn’t say ‘Hey, Dean, I fucked up again, but I’ll figure it out.’ No, he just tells me he’s on a goddamn bus and leaves me to connect the dots.” His voice had risen, tight and bitter.
“You know, you don’t have to let him stay—”
“What the hell am I supposed to do, Cas?” Cas winced at the snapped words. “I can’t just…abandon him like that.”
Cas’s voice adopted a defensive edge, “you mean like what he did to you and Sam growing up?”
Whatever fire that sparked Dean to retort, fizzled out just as fast. No matter how irritating it felt, Dean knew Cas was right.
“I know,” Dean replied in a frustrated whisper. “It’s not right, o-or fair, and I know he deserves to deal with this on his own...”
Cas raised a brow. “But?”
Dean shook his head. “But I wouldn’t forgive myself if he died because I didn’t do anything about it.”
“You can’t control his future, Dean. His mistakes are his own. There are other people he can reach out to for help besides you—”
Dean scoffed. “Yeah? And then what? Let him rot in some shelter until he drinks himself to death?” He dragged a hand down his face. “Jesus.”
A moment of silence stretched between them. The tension in Dean’s chest wasn’t letting up. He felt cornered, overwhelmed by everything that was happening. He flexed his fingers around the wheel, jaw tight. “Everything’s just—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply through his nose.
Cas’s face seemed to soften into something Dean couldn’t quite interpret. “Just…?”
Dean didn’t answer at first, staring straight furrowed brows, until he finally muttered, “going to shit.”
Though he wasn’t trying to imply anything, it seemed Cas instantly picked up on the meaning behind his words, his posture stiffening.
“Dean,” Cas started carefully, obviously trying not to upset Dean further. “Is there anything else…besides your father…that’s upsetting you?”
Dean glanced to his right, getting a good look at the confusing expression on Cas’s face. It was a mix of sympathy with a hint of guilt, like he was the one that was making Dean irritated to begin with.
The look dug under Dean’s skin. It’s not that he was resenting Cas necessarily, because honestly, he still hadn’t figured out whether last night was some sort of lucid dream, or genuine reality. But still, it was gnawing at him—the possibility that everything he’d heard was true. And the thought that Cas had been keeping a secret like that this entire time, was making him feel something akin to betrayal.
The more he thought about it, the more Dean felt a callous shell begin to form over his heart. If the anxious guilt Dean could see in Cas’s eyes was there because he was worried Dean had heard him last night, well then…
Fuck him.
Because yeah, that was pretty damn upsetting.
And since he knew Cas would hear the lie in his voice if he’d told him no, Dean decided to give him a weak head shake and shrug. His eyes were dead set on the road, face drained of any sign of the happiness he’d felt the last 48 hours.
From his peripheral, Dean could see Cas’s shoulders droop at the non-answer. He tried to brace himself for a conversation that he wasn’t ready for.
“Dean, I—”
“You’re leaving,” Dean blurted. It surprised even himself, though, part of him was thankful for making them get to the point—might as well rip the bandage off hard and fast.
Cas went ridgid beside him, and when Dean dared to dart his eyes in his direction, he caught a glimpse of the terror written on his face. It made Dean feel guilty at first, but he quickly banished the feeling—Castiel had started this after all.
There was a long pause of static-like silence when only the rolling of the tires against cracked pavement and rumbling of Baby’s engine could be heard. Dean could tell Cas was taking his time to consider his next words.
“I’m not leaving.”
Was he seriously trying to deny this?
“So I guess I just imagined last night then, huh?” he grumbled.
Cas didn’t waste a second to respond, his voice strained. “I said I had a job offer, not that I was leaving.”
“But you haven’t turned it down yet, right?”
Cas’s lips parted as if he was going to answer, but nothing came out. The silence was enough.
Dean shook his head and exhaled with no small amount of contempt. “Right, so that means you want it—”
“What I want—” Cas cut off his own words before reeling himself in with a steadying breath. His friend’s voice was as rough as sandpaper when he spoke again. “From what you heard last night, is…” another breath, “is this all you’re angry about?”
“Is this all?” Dean looked out his window for a moment, his hands gripped tightly at the wheel as a bitter smile tugged at his lips. “Wow, Cas.”
Cas’s brow pinched forward in confusion—and god, did it make Dean want to punch him even more.
After a few tense seconds he snapped his eyes back to Cas. “What the hell do you mean ‘is this all you’re angry about?’ Yeah I kinda care that my best friend wants to move to the other side of the damn country, and he didn’t even tell me about it!”
Dean’s eyes flickered back and forth between the road and Cas, expecting a response. But every time he stole a glance, Cas was just sitting there, tense and unmoving. There was a journey of emotions on his face, shifting from confusion to sudden realization.
“You didn’t hear.” He finally whispered, mostly to himself.
Dean swallowed. “Hear what?”
Cas turned, facing him head on. “Dean.”
Anxiety filled Dean’s chest—was Cas about to tell him something worse than him moving?
“Pull over.”
Dean’s hands stilled on the steering wheel. By now, they were on mostly back roads. Two lanes that stretched over long expanses of virtually abandoned grasslands. It wouldn’t be hard to pull over into one of the fields and use the tall grass for some privacy.
On the other hand, why on earth would Dean want to do that?
“What?” he exclaimed in confusion. “Why?”
“Dean, I need to—I can’t do this in here. Please.”
Dean’s pulse quickened, his stomach churning with worry. Cas’s voice had an edge to it—like whatever he was about to say was going to change everything.
He could argue. Keep driving. Pretend he didn’t hear the quiet desperation in Cas’s voice. But something about the way Cas was looking at him—like he was barely holding it together—made Dean’s gut twist.
With a sharp exhale, he flicked on the turn signal and eased Baby onto the gravel shoulder. The tires crunched over loose rock before settling into the tall, swaying grass lining the roadside.
Dean shifted the car into park but didn’t shut off the engine. He didn’t like how exposed they were, parked in the middle of nowhere, nothing but open sky and rolling fields stretching in every direction.
“Alright,” he said after clearing his throat. “You wanted me to pull over. Now talk.”
“I-I need—” Cas didn’t finish his sentence, instead, he pushed the passenger door open with a frustrated sigh and quickly stepped out of the car.
Dean threw up his hands before letting out a sigh of his own and following his friend.
“Talk to me, Cas,” Dean half-demanded as he slammed the car door and walked to the other side.
Cas was a few feet away now, one hand on his hip while the other stroked back his untamed hair. After a few seconds, he turned around to face Dean, eyes shadowed with hesitation, yet, still burning with something deeper, something unspoken.
Until now.
His mouth parted slightly, wet lips glimmering with lowlights from the reflection of the sun behind them. The cool evening air caught at the longer strands of his hair, making them lift and swirl around his face. And then, finally, he met Dean’s gaze, utterly exposed.
“There was something else I said last night, Dean.” The words were croaked out dryly. “I-I thought you might be asleep—which, I guess you were—”
Dean’s heart stopped.
What?
No, no, no—
He isn’t—
“You said you had a job,” Dean interrupted with a raspy voice, hoping to change the subject, to stop Cas before from saying what he thought he was about to say.
“Dean, there’s a reason I haven’t said anything to them, w-why I haven’t given them an answer.”
Dean averted his eyes to the ground. He bit his lip so hard he could taste the blood filling his mouth, hot and sharp.
This didn’t make sense. He woke up this morning thinking that, surely, Cas was leaving. Leaving to escape Kansas and possibly him.
And now, Cas was about to tell him…
Dean squeezed his eyes shut.
He can’t.
No matter how much he wanted it. How badly he craved it, for so long—he couldn't let Cas say it. He couldn’t let his…feelings, their feelings…whatever feelings, stand in the way of a better life for Cas. Sure, he was pissed about the way he found out about him leaving, but he’d never, never, let Cas stay for him.
“Look, Cas…I know how I came across back there…but really, I don’t…” Dean took in a breath, and for the first time in his life, it hurt—like his lungs were fighting against him. “I don’t want to hold you back. I-I want you to be happy, and if happiness means that you gotta leave…then that’s what I want for you. I—” A noise that he hadn’t even realized he was capable of slipped out of his throat—something between a cry and a laugh. “I can’t be selfish with you, man.” The sniffle in his voice was undeniable. “I mean, of course I don’t want you to go but—”
The sound of Cas’s voice, breathless and open, cut through the moment like steel.
“I love you.”
For a second, Dean forgot how to exist. The world around him—the dirt under his boots, the air flowing around them, the goddamn pain in his chest—blurred into nothing. Cas was just standing there with his heart cracked open, offering Dean something so big, so terrifying, that it made him feel like he was about to collapse under the weight of it.
His mouth opened, but no words came out. Even after suspecting Cas would say something like that, he still couldn’t have prepared himself to finally hear it.
What was he supposed to do when the one thing he wanted—had always wanted—was being handed to him like it was simple? Like it wasn’t the most impossible, earth-shattering thing in the world?
“What?” Was all he could get his stupid brain to conjure up.
“I love you.” This time, Cas spoke the words with even more conviction, though his lower lip trembled with every syllable. “You stubborn, frustrating, infuriatingly selfless idiot.”
Dean blinked.
“That’s why I didn’t want to go, Dean. Of course I’d rather be here with you.”
The blood pumped furiously through Dean's veins that it made his head spin. “How long?”
Cas’s face dropped in slight disappointment at Dean’s response. He inhaled, gathering himself, before he replied with a shaky, almost guilt-laden voice. “Since before our dynamic.” Cas looked down, like he was recollecting the events of the past years. “Since, honestly, as long as I can remember.”
Oh.
The more Cas confessed, the more Dean’s brain shut off.
“Love?” he muttered like the idiot Cas claimed he was, “like…in love?”
Cas actually chuckled. “I don’t think there’s any other type of love that would make sense here, Dean.”
Dean swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe.
Cas was in love with him.
And god help him, Dean was in love with Cas.
And maybe, in a perfect fairytale world, that would be enough.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he rasped, “Cas…get in the car.”
Cas blinked rapidly. “What?”
Dean exhaled sharply, already turning toward the Impala. “Please…get in the car.” He did his best to keep his voice controlled, keep himself from breaking.
Cas didn’t move. “That’s it?” His voice felt like a knife to Dean’s chest. “You’re not going to say anything?”
Dean’s steps faltered. He clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes for a second before spinning back around. “I just—I can’t do this right now, okay?” The words rushed out, rough and frayed at the edges. “My brother just proposed, my dad is God knows where, and my best friend is saying he’s in love with me—and I just—I need—”
The last part came out weak, barely above a whisper, and Dean hated how fucking pathetic he sounded.
But it was the best he could do, because he knew he couldn’t say the whole truth.
The truth that he didn’t know how to deal with this. That he didn’t know how to take what Cas was giving him and accept it without completely unraveling. Because, if he let himself hold onto Cas’s words for even a second, he was sure he’d never be able to let go.
But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—let Cas stay in Kansas just for him, because that wasn’t how this was supposed to go. It was never supposed to be like this.
Cas exhaled a breath. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—understanding, maybe. Pity. Dean wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Okay,” Cas murmured.
And with that, he opened the passenger door and slid inside.
Dean stood there for a second longer, staring out at the empty field, before finally moving to follow.
—
The drive back was thick with tension. It was suffocating. Probably even worse than the drive to Sam’s graduation when Dean had been worried Cas and John would kill each other before they arrived—and that was saying something.
He knew when he told Cas to get in the car that this situation was inescapable, though he had considered just handing his friend the keys and walking the rest of the way—it was no less than he deserved anyway.
Because, thinking about it, Cas just laid his deepest feelings bare for Dean to see, and what did Dean do? He was being a complete and total ass about it. He kept having to tell himself it was for the greater good. That, although Cas didn’t understand right now, he would later.
Grant it, Cas definitely would have slapped him if he said that out loud—at least, judging by the way he was slumped in the passenger's seat, with crossed arms, and stiff posture. He leaned his head against the window in silence. Dean could only make out his expression through the dim glass reflection—it was just as despondent as one would imagine it’d be.
Dean felt the guilt settle in his throat like cement.
How could he fuck up this badly?
It was just…he panicked.
He couldn’t be honest, because then he’d be getting Cas’s hopes up, only to let him down with the truth that Cas deserved better than him—something he knew Cas would deny. And who would be the stubborn, self-sacrificer then?
Dean let his eyes wander back to Cas whenever there was an occasional shift or shuffle, swallowing every time he caught a glimpse of Cas’s sad, tired eyes.
Even with the torturous silence, time still passed.
Ten minutes.
Then twenty.
Eventually, Dean’s fingers were aching from his firm grip on the wheel, though he couldn’t force himself to relax.
Another ten.
Cas exhaled sharply through his nose, barely audible over the hum of the car. His fingers curled against his knee, like he was thinking about saying something. Dean braced himself, waiting for Cas to speak, to make him acknowledge what happened back there.
But the words never came, and Dean wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or not.
The city lights were visible in the distance now, breaking up the darkness with a dull glow. Dean felt a wave of relief at the sight, Cas’s house wouldn’t be far now. The tension between them was only growing worse by the minute—as if, any second, something could spark and cause an explosive argument. It was only a matter of time.
But again, nothing happened, and time continued to go on. Then finally, before Dean could really even process it, they were pulling into Cas’s driveway.
The wheels of the Impala rolling over the asphalt were a familiar sound—one that used to bring him comfort. As he shifted the gears into park, Cas didn’t wait a second to get out—Dean guessed he felt just as suffocated as he had.
“Cas…” Dean croaked out, the lump in his throat growing painfully large.
Cas seemed unaffected by his plea—instead, he simply shut the passenger door behind him with a strong force, and moved to the back seat for his bags.
Dean got out too, unsure of what else to do. He stared helplessly as Cas grabbed his things. It always hurt to see his best friend in pain, but knowing that he was the cause of it, made it practically unbearable.
His tongue pressed behind his teeth with the urge to say something, to make it right. Not only because of the guilt that was eating away at him, but because he couldn’t let Cas go without knowing, at the very least, that he wasn’t upset with him.
When Cas finished gathering all of his stuff, he slammed the car door shut and began making his way to his porch.
“Cas, wait—please, I’m—”
Cas dug in his pockets for his house keys, getting them out and finding the right one without ever sparing Dean a glance.
“Cas!” Dean half-shouted, following him up the steps of his porch. “Please, just let me—”
The key turned, unlocking the door with a clicking sound, and Dean’s heart dropped with the fear that Cas might just shut the door in his face. However, the fear was short-lived, since Cas set his bags down inside the house, and turned to face Dean.
His expression was scarily numb—eyes lidded, void of any trace of hopefulness that had shined in them just an hour prior. His jaw was clenched, hands flexed at his sides. When he finally spoke, his voice strained, but controlled.
“Let me know how it goes with your father, Dean. If you need—” He cleared his throat. “If you need help, just ask.”
Ashamed and unable to come up with a good response, Dean remained dumbly quiet as Cas walked inside and shut the door the rest of the way.
Dean swallowed, painfully unsure of what to do.
“I’m sorry.” He rasped, hoping the words could be heard on the other side of the door. “I know you’re upset...” Dean waited a second for Cas to respond as he stepped closer to the door. “But…I need you to know that I’m not angry at you for what you said. I just—I need some time…” His voice trailed off weakly. There was nothing but silence in return. Still, Dean added, “I’m so sorry, Cas.”
He sighed, hands hanging swinging idly at his sides as he plodded back to his car.
It would be a miracle if Cas ever forgave him for this.
And Dean wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
— (Cas’s POV)
Cas’s house felt cold and empty, an accurate reflection of how he was feeling inside.
The silence was deafening after Dean left. It was so quiet that he could hear a ringing in his ears.
He stepped into the living room, bags in hand, and immediately, his eyes drooped with exhaustion, trailing slowly over to his couch. The sight made him want to curl in on himself.
There were so many memories he’d made there with Dean—so many memories they’d made in the entire house, even in only a few months. Staring at the halls and the rooms—it felt like looking at a picture of a loved one that had passed. The only thing to be seen was the stillness, the lifelessness, and knowing, you’d never be able to make those memories with them again.
And as dramatic as it sounded, that was slowly becoming a very real fear for Cas.
When he told Dean he loved him—the second time—it was more instinctual, a knee-jerk reaction to Dean being so obliviously idiotic. He hadn’t planned to tell him, at least, not like that. He wanted to do it more gradually, with a hell of a lot more explanation, and preferably, when Dean wasn’t under so much duress.
Unfortunately, that was no longer an option.
And now, Dean knew. He knew the hard cold truth. And Cas…didn’t know how to feel about it.
He was trying his damndest to not let Dean’s reaction affect him. As per his conversation with Sam, it was obvious that unloading something so heavy on Dean all at once would reap nothing but bad consequences. However, when you were told to your face to essentially shut up and move on right after confessing your biggest secret, it didn’t feel…great.
Still, it was his own fault. He shouldn’t have let his feelings get carried away, and he should’ve waited to tell him at a better time.
Or, more precisely, he should have told him before they even started this stupid dynamic. Because that’s what ruined it, right? Maybe, if Cas had just come clean, they could’ve either stayed friends with appropriate boundaries, or they could’ve just gone their separate ways.
But now, because he put it to the side to let it simmer and boil over, he was at the risk of, not only losing the love of his life, but also his best friend.
He had to fix this, he had to talk to Dean again. This time, with a clear head, and a damn plan.
The only issue now was Dean’s dad. If he was dealing with John, it could be weeks before he was in the right mindset to talk about it, and by then it would be too late. Not that he necessarily needed an answer from Dean in order to say no to the New York position, but if things with Dean went so far south to the point of their friendship falling apart, there truly wouldn’t be much left to keep him here.
He just had to wait, collect his thoughts, and approach Dean again. Surely they could find time to talk somewhere in the midst of all this chaos.
— (Dean’s POV)
The keys in Dean’s hands clinked softly as he turned the lock to his apartment. He’d been holding his breath the whole walk up there, praying to whatever god or deity that would listen in hopes that his father wouldn’t be inside. Though, in all honesty, if he wasn’t, that would probably be worse, since Dean would then have to go out and search for him. But either way, he was not looking forward to sharing his already cramped space with his overbearing father.
The door creaked open, allowing a sliver of light from inside to shine through, which was enough for Dean to know that his Dad was, in fact, there.
“Dean?” Dean winced at the rough, unmistakable voice of his father.
He inhaled deeply, preparing himself to talk to John after the long, blissful period of not seeing him at all.
“Dean, y’there?”
“Yeah, Dad,” he sighed as he pushed through the doorway.
“Took you long enough.” The words were muttered under his breath, though, loud enough that he made sure Dean heard them.
Instead of trying to defend himself and relay the events of their drive back, Dean just stayed quiet, setting his things on the small kitchen counter. When he looked over at the living room, he saw John strewn out over his couch, appearing even rougher than he usually did as he flipped through cheap cable shows.
After he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on the hook by the door, Dean gathered his stuff and walked to his room.
“You need to get some groceries, fridge is practically empty,” John murmured as he passed by.
Dean opted to ignore him, shutting his door firmly behind him as he stepped inside—it hurt to admit how much effort it took to do that.
He sat on the bed, running a hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself, but to no avail.
Dealing with his father once a week was one thing, but now he had to live with him? Maybe Cas was right. Maybe he should just drop him off at the shelter, leave him to his own vices.
Dean buried his face in his hands—he felt like crying. How could things be so perfect one moment and then so fucked the next? He scoffed inwardly—it wasn’t really surprising, considering that was pretty much a summary of his life.
And the cherry on top of this steaming pile of shit? He had no one to go to about it. Sure, maybe he could call Charlie, but why burden her with something like this, especially when they didn’t even see each other except once every other month?
Benny was an option, or even Bobby—any of his friends at the station, really—but…it wasn’t the same.
What he really wanted was Cas. He wanted to drive back to his house, bang on the door and beg for forgiveness, beg for him to stay, and tell him just how loved he truly was. He wanted to curl up in bed next to him, feel his warmth, and feel safe.
But he couldn’t.
And now, he was left in this shitty apartment with his alcoholic father, on the edge of a psychotic break.
It felt too much like Sam’s freshman year of college. Dean had stayed with his father for a few months after Sam left before he got his own place. Easy to say, those were some of the worst months of his life. It was a year and a half after that when he met Cas.
Meeting him had brought Dean back to life in so many ways.
“Fuck…” he whispered into the silence of his room, pinching the bridge of his nose to get rid of the stinging sensation in his eyes. He sniffled, then looked over his shoulder to see the clock on his nightstand.
He had work tomorrow, so he should be getting to bed.
Thankfully, work was just what he needed right now—a distraction. Plus, something to keep him away from his Dad a little while longer. Maybe if he was lucky, he could pick up an extra shift—anything to keep him out of this apartment.
With a weary sigh, he laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Despite his exhaustion, Dean had a feeling he’d be lucky if he got a wink of sleep tonight.
—
When Dean woke up six hours later, he knew he’d been right—sleep had completely escaped him.
He spent the majority of the six hours tossing and turning, each time he thought he found a comfortable position, the sound of the TV from the room over—or even occasionally, John’s snores—would pull him right out of whatever half-assed sleep he was having.
And if he thought he was tired yesterday, it was nothing compared to what he felt like this morning.
The shower he’d practically crawled into did help some, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the heavy bags under his eyes, or the sunken look of depression on his face that he could see staring back at him from his clouded mirror. He heaved a sigh and bent over his sink, splashing cold water on his face. The sensation helped to wake him up, but it was far from the refreshing rejuvenation he’d hoped for.
With sluggish movements, Dean got into his uniform and grabbed his duffel, throwing out the old clothes he still hadn’t unpacked from last night.
His hand hesitated on his bedroom doorknob. The snores had stopped sometime during Dean’s shower, which meant it was likely that John was awake—a situation Dean had been desperate to avoid. Still, knowing that he couldn’t hide in his room forever, he eventually pulled the door open, only to reveal an empty couch.
He gasped softly as his eyes scanned his apartment, until they promptly landed on John hunched over his kitchen sink.
Not thinking anything of it, Dean placed his things on the dining table and reached for the fridge. Before he could open it, John let out a loud, rattling cough. It sounded terrible.
Dean paused, looking over in concern. “Dad…?”
John let out another cough. This time, however, he hacked out something into the sink.
Within a second, Dean was by his Father’s side, one hand on his back with the other holding onto his arm. He peered into the sink, his breath stalling at the sight of blood and saliva pooling near the drain.
Dean led his father to sit in a dining chair, before tearing off a paper towel and handing it to him.
John took it without a word of protest—which, honestly might’ve been more concerning than him coughing up the blood.
“Dad?” Dean asked shakily. “How long has this been going on?”
John barely got in a word before another coughing fit took over. Dean’s stomach dropped. He frantically pulled a plastic cup from his cabinet and filled it with water. By the time he was putting the glass into John’s hands, he’d already soaked half of the paper towel in blood.
“Drink.” Dean ordered.
John groaned, but drank anyway, his sips small. It was obvious it hurt him to swallow.
Dean rubbed a hand down his face. Seeing his father face to face had Dean realizing just how poor he looked. His face was pale, back hunched. His beard looked as if it hadn’t seen a razor in god knew how long, and his hair was patchy from a poorly done buzz job.
“Have you been taking your meds?” Dean did his best to keep his voice non-accusatory, though it was a struggle, as the lines between worry and anger were getting progressively blurrier in his mind.
John set the cup down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I ran out. Can’t make it to the pharmacy cause of my knee.”
Dean shook his head at the excuses. “Why didn’t you c—” He stopped himself, guilt washing over him like hot lava. Though he didn’t finish his sentence, John had apparently gotten the gist of what he was about to say.
“You’re the one who said I had to take care of myself.” He grumbled dryly. His tone held an undercurrent of sarcasm, like he knew that Dean hadn’t been serious when he said it the first time.
Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“Alright, fine—whatever. Just—c’mon, we need to get you to the hospital.”
Dean pulled at John’s arm, but was quickly waved off. “I’m fine,” John mumbled, “this’s been happening for a while. ‘Sides, they aren’t gonna do anything except prescribe me the same meds I usually take.”
“Dad—” Dean began, but cut himself off again.
Coughing up blood was serious no matter what. And while it could just be a sign that he simply needed to get back on his medication, it could also be a symptom of something much more life-threatening. Still, he knew he’d never get his father out of this apartment without one hell of a fight, and he didn’t have the time or energy to do that.
“Okay. I’ll call in a refill and pick them up for you after I get off work.”
John gave a nod before finishing off his glass of water.
“But Dad, for the love of god, if this gets worse…please call 911.”
John gave an evasive grunt and rose to his feet, unable to hide the wince of pain that followed. When Dean remained standing and staring, John just gave him a look. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Dean exhaled roughly. He hated leaving him like this, but it’s not like he was really giving him a choice.
With one last sigh of frustration, he grabbed his stuff and headed out the door.
—
“There he is!” Jo yelled cheerfully from the station kitchen.
Dean stepped through the door, barely acknowledging her as he walked past the living space, his bag slung over one shoulder. He gave a tired half-smile in greeting, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sour mood.
She noticed.
“Damn, you look like hell,” she said, leaning against the counter with her coffee. “Driving back wore you out, huh? Should’ve flown like I did.” She smirked as she lifted the mug to her lips.
Ash, who was heating something in the microwave, glanced over, looking him up and down. “You sure you didn’t walk back instead?”
Dean dropped his bag onto the counter with a dull thud, exhaling sharply. He didn’t have it in him to play along. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
His serious reply had Jo and Ash sharing a look of confusion and surprise. Jo’s smile faded slightly as she took in his expression. “You sure you’re—”
“I’m fine,” he cut in, sharper than he meant to.
The two remained silent as Dean got out some waters and placed them in the fridge. After a few beats, Jo shifted and took a breath. “Well, I was actually just telling Ash about the proposal, and how we kept Jess busy with dinner while—”
But Dean wasn’t listening. In fact, he was already moving, heading for the locker room before she could finish. Her voice faded softly behind him, concerned whispers following shortly after.
The second he stepped inside the musty, poorly-lit locker room, he exhaled hard, pressing his hands against the cool metal of his locker. He felt terrible, acting like that in front of his friends. He just wasn’t in the headspace to be happy and light-hearted—not with everything that was happening.
Dean was barely able to stuff his bag in the locker before the first alarm of the day blared through the station.
He clenched his jaw and grabbed the keys to the truck.
—
By the end of his shift, Dean felt worse than when he started.
He’d thought work would be a good distraction, something to pull him out of his own head. Instead, he’d been too distracted to even do his job the way he wanted.
The calls blurred together—an elderly man who had collapsed in his driveway, a car wreck that left a teenage girl with a broken collarbone, a drunk guy who’d fallen down a flight of stairs and wouldn’t stop laughing about it. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but Dean had been off his game all day, his thoughts slipping back to his dad and Cas no matter how hard he tried to focus.
He’d hoped the prescription refill that he called in this morning would be ready by now, so he could at least get one more hour of peace before seeing John again. But of course, he hadn’t gotten any notification, so chances were it wouldn’t be ready till tomorrow.
He sighed as he shoved his locker shut, already dreading going back to that apartment, back to the tension and the stale air and the sight of his dad coughing up blood like it was no big deal.
Just as Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and made for the door, Benny’s voice stopped him.
“Hey, what you got going on tonight, Cher?”
Dean hesitated, gripping the strap of his bag a little tighter. It sounded like an invitation to go out, something he could really use right now.
And while part of him wanted to decline, worried about leaving his father alone, the other part was desperate to accept—what was one drink anyway?
Instead of telling him the truth, he replied with an open tone. “Nothin. Got something in mind?” He already knew the answer, drinking and hooking up were the only two things Benny and Dean ever really did together outside of work, and one of those activities was a lot more common than the other.
“I was gonna head down to Hillsides to have a couple. Wanna come with?”
Dean bit his lip before eventually pushing aside his confliction and nodding. “Sounds good to me.”
— (Cas’s POV)
Cas knew he was pathetic, lying around waiting for a text from Dean like a lovesick teenager.
It was just, he had nothing else to do.
Having work off today had seemed like a blessing at first—his exhaustion from their trip making him sleep past any and all alarms he would have set. But as the day passed, the hours quiet and uneventful, all he had left was to think about Dean.
His mind kept that moment on a continuous loop, filling him with conflicted feelings of peace and worry. For one thing, he was glad he’d finally said it—glad Dean had heard it. But as always, there was that dreaded feeling of panic that he’d ruined everything. Ruined the one friendship in his life that had meant more to him than anything.
It was a draining cycle.
By the time evening finally rolled around, his head throbbed with all the overthinking, a deep tension rooted behind his eyes. And despite spending the entire day doing nothing, he still felt like he could sleep another twelve hours.
And he might have too, if it wasn’t for a strange, anxious feeling growing in his chest.
He’d told Dean to tell him how things went with his father after he got home, but so far, all he’d received was radio silence. Sure, it’d only been a day. But Cas couldn’t help the way his mind immediately went to all the worst case scenarios.
He would’ve already reached out to Dean himself, but he didn’t want to be pushy right after Dean said he needed space and time. Though, his anxiety was beginning to surpass his need to respect Dean’s privacy, since it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing that everything was okay.
That was what sparked the first text.
When Dean didn’t answer after the first hour, Cas wasn’t too concerned. But then 9pm hit, and he knew for sure that Dean should be off work.
So he sent a second text.
Then a third.
The space between each message grew shorter and shorter till Cas felt he had no choice but to call him. His finger hesitated over Dean’s contact. This would probably be a mistake. But Cas couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just needed to curb his anxiety somehow.
His foot tapped as the phone rang—each sound followed by silence, until finally, Dean’s voicemail recording played. Cas exhaled sharply through his nose and pressed the contact again.
And again, nothing.
The third time the recording sounded through his phone, Cas was half tempted to throw the damn thing across the room. But, after taking a calming breath and reminding himself that this didn’t necessarily mean that something bad had happened, he set his phone down on the coffee table and stood to pace.
To some, pacing was a nervous, panicky habit, but for Cas, it was something that helped ground him, helped him to think.
And thinking was exactly what he did.
He thought of all the perfectly logical reasons for why Dean wasn’t answering, and why it wasn’t necessary to continue to push for a response. While also thinking of all the bad reasons for why Dean may be unresponsive.
And unfortunately, the latter train of thought was winning out.
The truth was, it just wasn’t like Dean to not answer at all. Even when he was mad, Dean would always shoot back a short text because he knew it was the least he could do. This left Cas with the conclusion that something was specifically keeping Dean from being able to answer his messages or calls.
Maybe John and him had gotten into a fight which caused something to happen to one or the other. Or both.
It could just be Cas’s overprotective personality—the kind that developed when you saw and treated freak accidents almost every day—but it wasn’t escaping him that something even worse could have happened. Something maybe even outside of John.
And while yes, it was a ridiculous notion considering it’d only been a day since he saw Dean, he still couldn’t help the feeling in his gut.
He had to know if Dean was okay. He just had to.
And so, he thought of the next best thing—calling the station. He was fully aware of how desperate and pathetic it sounded, but it wasn’t like he was calling the emergency number, so it shouldn’t be an issue.
Besides, he knew Bobby. And he also knew that Bobby cared about Dean as much as he did, and if Cas was worried about him, he would at least be sympathetic about it.
Right?
Cas shook his head—only one way to find out.
The phone only rang twice before a gruff voice answered.
“You’ve reached Midwest Medical Transportation, Station 5, what can I do for you?”
Cas cleared his throat nervously. “H-hello, is this Bobby?”
“Speaking.”
“Hey, Bobby, it’s Castiel. I was just—”
“Novak,” Bobby interjected with a tone he was accustomed to hearing used for Dean. “I know you didn’t call my station just to ask about Winchester.”
Fuck.
Cas felt a rush of heat flood his face, palms sweaty as they gripped his phone. “I um…”
“Go on.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice that helped to dull Cas’s anxiety.
Still, he couldn’t help but grimace as he replied, “do you happen to know where Dean is…?”
“Hm” Bobby hummed, now obviously reveling in Cas’s embarrassment. “He left about an hour and a half ago, with Lafitte I think.”
“Do you know where to?”
“They didn’t say. But I know Hillsides is a favorite of theirs. Might wanna check there.”
“The bar?”
The quiet, crackling sound of static told Cas that was a dumb question.
“Right,” he quickly amended. “Thank you, Bobby. I appreciate it.”
“‘Course. But you mind tellin’ me why you couldn’t have called him yourself?”
Cas hesitated. “I did. He’s…not answering.”
“I see,” Bobby replied thoughtfully. “Not like him.”
“No, it isn’t. But at least I can go check on him now. Thanks again, Bobby.”
“I would say anytime, Son, but let’s not make this a habit, ‘kay?”
Cas chuckled nervously, “Understood, Sir.”
“Good.”
As soon as the call ended, Cas felt his chest tighten. If Dean was at a bar with Benny, it could just be that he had his phone on silent and was distracted. And if that was the case, and Cas was to venture all the way over there just to embarrass him in front of his friend, he could make current matters much worse.
In his defense though, the last time Dean went drinking after having an encounter with his father, he ended up in a hospital room.
So, Benny or not, Cas at least needed to check on him.
—
The bar was crowded, full of loud, drunk, and rowdy people belting music from the top of their lungs. Cas felt uncomfortably out of place as he wove through the chaos, bumping shoulders at every turn.
His gaze bounced from person to person, looking for any sign of Dean. Eventually, he caught a glimpse of someone sitting at the bar who looked vaguely like Benny, but he couldn’t tell for sure. The man was leaning next to a woman, laughing and sharing drinks. As Cas got closer, it was clear the mystery man was in fact Benny.
But where was Dean?
He strode up behind Benny, a hand going to his shoulder.
The larger man turned his head, a smirk on his face from his previous flirtations with the woman beside him. “I’ll be damned. What you doin’ here Novak?” Benny half-shouted over the music and sounds of the crowd.
He withdrew his hold from Benny. “I’m looking for Dean.”
“What?” Benny cupped a hand around his ear, signaling Cas to speak up.
“I said—” Cas exhaled in frustration. “I’m looking for Dean.”
“Oh, figures,” Benny chuckled lightly. The sound had Cas’s patience wearing thin. “He’s not here.”
Cas shifted, clenching his jaw before replying, “Bobby said he came here with you.”
“Well, yeah. But he left already.” Benny took another sip of his drink and turned back to the woman, saying something indiscernible in her ear that had her laughing and slapping his shoulder.
“To where?” Cas interjected coarsely.
It was enough to get his attention again. And this time, his expression softened as he looked at Cas with sympathy.
“Not sure exactly. He was chatting with this girl, he might’ve left with her.”
Cas stiffened, trying to keep his composure from crumpling at Benny’s words. He didn’t want to believe it in the sense he was implying. Dean surely wouldn’t do something like that. Not after saying they were exclusive, and especially not after what Cas told him yesterday.
He just wouldn’t.
“D-did they say anything about where they were going?”
Benny’s mouth parted as if he was about to answer, but then he snapped it shut. He leaned in again, said something to the woman, and kissed her cheek before getting up from his stool.
“C’mere,” Benny jerked his head towards the exit, and Cas quickly followed him out.
They stepped outside into the humid, summer night air. The smell of stale alcohol and cigarette smoke filled Cas’s nostrils and him feeling even more sick than he already was. Benny led him away from the crowded entrance, hands shoved in his pockets.
“Somethin’ goin’ on between you two?” Benny gave him a squinted side glance.
Castiel met his eyes briefly before dropping his gaze to the ground. “Why does that matter?”
“I dunno,” Benny shrugged, “he was just…off today. After we came here and had a couple, he told me about his Dad. I figured that was all that was botherin’ him, but then he started talking about you—and I couldn’t exactly hear what he was sayin’ but…whatever it was, he sounded pretty broken up about it.”
Cas swallowed around the lump in his throat. Instead of unloading all their recent arguments, he simply cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I still don’t see how it’s important.”
Benny casually threw his hands up in defense. “Alright. Just curious.”
“Can you tell me where they went or not?”
“Like I said, not exactly sure, but…”
“But what?”
“The girl, that Dean was talking to, she was kinds flirting with him but he didn’t really seem into it, until she started talking about goin’ to this club.”
“Club?”
“Yeah, she was bar hoppin’ I guess. Her next spot was gonna be this club in…Overland Park, maybe? Somethin’ really hardcore.”
A flush rose to Cas’s cheek. There was only one possible club he could be talking about, and Cas knew exactly which one it was.
“Once she said that, Dean kinda perked up.” Benny laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I’d like to think I know the guy pretty damn well, but I never thought he’d be into stuff like that.”
“And they went…together?”
Benny shrugged. “Not sure. Kid didn’t even tell me he was leaving.”
“Did he drive?” Cas asked frantically.
“No, I did. He left his car at the station.”
“So he either left with her, or took other transportation back to his car,” Cas muttered, mostly to himself.
Benny looked down the rows of street parking. “Guess so.”
Cas chewed on his lip. There was only one place to check now.
“Thanks for your help, Benny.”
Benny nodded, “No problem.”
—
It was a 20 minute drive to the Black Rose, the BDSM club Cas had often visited before starting his dynamic with Dean. He practically flew down the highway, not caring how reckless he was being because he needed to be there yesterday.
There were so many things that could go wrong with Dean at the club, especially considering how new he was to the BDSM scene. That was the reason he wanted to ease Dean into it in the first place. He’d planned to introduce him to it gradually—one day, when he was ready.
And now, he was going with a random stranger and he was intoxicated.
Of course, the club had rules about drinking and playing. If someone wanted to consume alcohol there, they had to wear a wristband that showed they were not sober and unfit to consent to scening. But if Dean showed up after having already been drinking, who’s to say they’d notice his drunken state and make him wear it.
Cas tightened his grip around the wheel.
He had to get to Dean now.
—
Since there was a time he’d been a regular at this club for several months and had gotten to—unfortunately—get to know the owner quite well, he had VIP access. Instead of going through the standard line, he walked in through the entrance lined by velvet stanchion ropes.
Inside, the club was loud and busy—only, it was much more spacious and more familiar than the bar he’d previously been in, which made it bearable. The middle of the club was where the stage was, tables and stools circled around it where viewers could sip drinks and watch whatever was unfolding on stage. A bar stood near the back, where others either chatted, or watched the show from their seats there.
Cas desperately looked for Dean at both the bar and the tables surrounding the stage. There was no sign of him in either of the places, and it was making his stomach twist.
Did Dean go to a private room?
Was he doing a scene?
Was he doing the scene with the girl that he came here with?
Even if he was, there was no way for him to know since private sessions were exactly that, private—and confidential. If two people ordered a session using a private room, there was no way to talk to them until after it was over.
Well, unless you knew the owner.
Cas pushed his way through a few groups of half-naked—and some fully naked—people, making his way down a hall and to a lounge in the back where he knew Crowley—the owner—might be.
Sure enough, the short, British man was sitting back in a chair, laughing and smoking a cigar next to another man Cas didn’t know. When he saw Cas he smirked. “Well if it isn’t the angel of Thursday.”
The gibe at his name had Castiel rolling his eyes internally.
“Crowley,” he nodded in greeting. “I need a favor.”
Crowley replaced the cigar in his hand with a glass of whiskey, before standing and strolling over to Cas. “Anything for my favorite customer.”
“I need to know if someone is scening right now,” Cas whispered.
Crowley raised a brow. “You know I can’t do that, Feathers.”
Scowling at the nickname, Cas folded his arms. “Please, Crowely. This is important.”
“What are you jealous of someone?” Crowley asked, lifting the glass to his lips to hide the sardonic grin growing on his face.
“No—it’s—” Crowley continued to smirk as Cas stumbled over his words. “T-this isn’t about jealousy.”
“They’re one of yours aren’t they? Your sub?”
Cas shifted his feet. “Possibly.”
“I’m guessing this is the same sub that’s had you staying away from here the past few months then, isn’t it?”
“He’s new, Crowley. His first experiences in BDSM were with me, and we’ve only been scening for three months or so.”
“And? We get newbies in here all the time,” Crowley waved him off.
“You don’t understand, this could be damaging for him. He doesn’t know what he’s getting into—”
“Sounds like someone is just trying to keep him all to themselves.”
“Crowley.” Cas restrained himself from yelling, instead he hissed his name out behind gritted teeth, hoping that would convey the same message.
“Alright, alright. I’ll see if I can find him. What’s the name?” Crowley pulled his phone out from inside his black suit jacket.
“Dean Winchester.”
After a few moments of scrolling, Crowley began shaking his head. “I don’t see anyone with that name on the register.”
Cas cursed under his breath.
“Maybe he isn’t scening. Did you check the floor?”
“Of course I did—”
“Then maybe he’s just not here.” Crowley put his phone away and walked back to his seat. “But since you’re here, feel free to enjoy the show, Feathers.” Crowley raised his glass before slipping back into conversation with the other man.
Cas grunted in frustration, and once he realized he wasn’t getting anymore help here, he left.
As he paced back down the dimly lit hall, his thoughts swirled in his mind. Maybe Dean wasn’t here after all? Which, could be a good thing, except that it meant he was back to square one on finding him.
Before going back to the main room, he decided to stop by the restrooms on the way down the hall. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the cooler, quieter space, the distant pulse of music still humming through the walls.
And lo and behold, Dean was at the sink, washing his hands.
Cas gasped, stopping in his tracks.
Dean’s head was slightly bowed, his back curved forward, and hands moving sluggishly as water ran down his fingers.
Then he looked up, and their eyes met in the mirror.
His eyes were red and lidded in the way they always were when Dean drank heavily.
“Cas?” He slurred. Whipping his head around. “What’re you doin’ here?”
Cas felt breath enter his chest again. Despite his concerning state, at least he knew where Dean was now.
“I’m here for you,” he explained.
Dean grabbed a paper towel and began clumsily drying his hands. “Y’came all th’way over here for me?”
“I—yes. You weren’t answering my calls—”
“Well…ain’t that sweet.” Dean smirked, throwing his trash at the hole in the sink—and missing by a long shot.
“Dean…” Cas’s brows knitted in concern, “...you’re drunk, you shouldn’t be here.”
Dean scoffed. "Weeell, I got this—this nice lil’ wristband right here that says I can." He lifted his arm with a dramatic flourish, nearly smacking himself in the jaw before shoving the red band toward Cas’s face with an unsteady sway.
Cas reached out a hand to steady him. “Regardless, Dean. This is not somewhere that…inexperienced people should be by themselves.”
“M’not by myself,” Dean hiccuped, blinking sluggishly as he looked down at Cas’s grasp around his arm, then back up into his eyes before giving him a lopsided grin. “An’ I dunno, Cas,” he drawled, words just a little too loose. “You’ve—hic—tied me up ‘n’ fucked me six ways t’Sunday, so..I think m’pretty experienced.”
A coldness clamped around Cas’s heart. “Is that what you came here to do? To fuck someone?”
“What’s it t’you?”
Cas’s forehead creased at the ridiculous question. “I—” he took a breath, composing himself for a few seconds before replying. “What happened to being exclusive?”
Dean looked away from Cas. His lips twisted, like he was trying to smother whatever guilt was creeping into his expression. “Well…maybe I jus’ need to find yer re—placement for when you go.”
Cas’s eyes widened in disbelief, his breath catching as he took a small step back. “You don’t mean that.” His voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper.
Dean’s gaze flickered back to Cas, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He shrugged, the movement lazy and uncoordinated. “Sure I don’t,” he replied, voice thick with something that almost sounded like mockery—but there was a tremor in his tone. “Now, f’you’ll ‘scuse me,” he muttered with drunken indifference. “I need t’get back to m’show.”
Dean trudged towards the door, his steps wavering slightly as he made his way past Cas.
“Dean…” Cas reached for him but he’d already made it out into the hall. “Wait, Dean!”
When he finally caught onto his hand half-way down the hall, Dean wrenched it away, the force of it making him knock into the wall.
“Get off f’me!” He grunted.
“Dean—I’m not…” Cas sighed, not sure how to convince him to leave without causing a scene. “Please, just let me take you home.”
“I don’t need—” Dean cut himself off, leaning back against the wall as his face went pale. His throat moved with a hard swallow, and he gripped the nearest surface, body tensing like he was about to hurl.
Cas quickly crouched beside Dean, steadying him as he began to sink to the floor. "Dean, you need to sit down," he said softly, guiding Dean down carefully, his hand firm on his shoulder.
Dean groaned, lips pursed from the nausea. His eyes rolled back as his head slowly fell against the wall. “Mmm…I…I don’t—” he released a small hiccup that had his eyes widening in fear before finishing his sentence, “feel s’good…”
“I know, sweetheart,” Cas gently caressed his arm. “You need water.”
After waiting a moment or two to let the nausea pass, Dean finally—and to Cas’s immense relief—nodded in agreement.
“M’kay, fine…le’s go, but—” he held a fist to his mouth, willing the impending barf to stay down, “w-water first…”
Cas helped him to his feet, guiding him back towards the main floor. As they walked in, neon lights flashing and music pumping loudly above them, Cas led Dean to the bar, helping him on a stool.
He gestured to the bartender who quickly walked over. “May I have just a water, please?”
The bartender nodded and moved down the bar to get another order.
Dean sat on the stool, his body swaying slightly, eyes unfocused. As Cas waited impatiently for the water, his foot tapping against the floor, Dean's gaze drifted toward the stage. His face flushed a deep red, pupils blown wide as he stared, hypnotized by the scene that was currently happening.
On the stage, a Dominatrix was fucking her female sub with a strap, praising her and spanking her at the same time. The crowd cheered each time her hand slapped against the sub’s ass.
The intensity in the air seemed to pull Dean in, his breath shallow as he barely registered Cas’s presence beside him. Although he felt guilty about it, Cas couldn’t help but watch Dean’s reaction with a mix of amusement and interest as Dean beheld the scene with a slack jaw.
His mind flooded with all the possibilities of what could have been. He just wished he could’ve brought Dean here when he was sober and more mentally prepared.
And…possibly collared.
But, Cas forced himself to banish the thought, switching back to the concerned friend, and opened his mouth to ask Dean a question about how he felt.
Before he could get it out, however, Dean suddenly leaned into his space. The smell of alcohol was strong on him, but it mixed with Dean’s own distinct scent, and honestly, Cas wasn’t entirely mad about it.
Breath hot against Cas’s neck and ear, Dean spoke softly, yet loud enough for him to understand.
“Y’wanna fuck me like that?”
Though most of his words were slurred from his inebriation, the undeniable sultry undertone had Cas fighting down a feeling he was ashamed to admit was quickly rising to the surface. He froze, breath hitching as he remained stoically silent. Dean seemed unaffected by the lack of response and simply turned his head, pressing it against Cas’s temple so that they were both looking at the stage.
“Wanna fuck me ‘n front ‘f all these people?”
Cas gulped comically loud, eyes squeezed shut.
Dean was drunk. Dean was drunk and horny and he didn’t even know what he was saying—he kept telling himself, resisting the urge to react.
Luckily for him, the glass of water slid across the bar just at that moment. Cas turned and nodded his thanks before holding the straw towards Dean for him to sip.
Dean sighed, then sipped it slowly, each ounce he drank seemed to bring him relief from his nausea.
While he was drinking, a white woman with shoulder-length brown hair walked up to them, an enthusiastic grin on her face. She was mostly drunk herself, but was sober enough to form a coherent sentence.
She tapped Dean’s shoulder. “Deannnn, is this your hot fuck buddy?” She giggled, and had Dean turning around immediately.
“Mm—hey, Tess, t-this…” he looked over at Cas who was less than amused by the title, “this is, Cas…”
“Oh my god I’ve heard sooo much about you!”
Cas raised a brow in confusion. “Didn’t you two just meet tonight?”
“Yep!” She laughed unnecessarily loudly. “And what a fucking night it’s been, amiriteee?”
Dean drunkenly went to cheer his half-empty glass of water into her cocktail, but Cas intercepted with a hand between them. “Okay, well, I’m taking Dean home now. Have a good night.”
“Oooo, you’re taking him home?” She nudged her elbow into Dean’s arm and winked, “you’re in for it then, huh?”
It was obvious Dean was drunk and not fully understanding her, still he smirked back at her like an idiot and threw a thumbs up in the air. Cas rubbed two fingers against his forehead—he was getting a headache.
“Alright, that’s enough for tonight. Let’s go, Dean.”
Cas quickly guided Dean away from Tess, ignoring her drunken giggle as she waved them off. Dean stumbled along beside him, half-focused on the neon lights flashing in the distance, his eyes glazed. As they made their way through the crowded club, Dean’s feet shuffled, barely keeping up, and he leaned on Cas for support, his head lolling to the side.
When they stepped into the parking lot, Dean stopped, his hand gripping Cas’s arm for balance as he looked around, confusion clouding his features. “Uh…Cas…where ‘re we going…?” he mumbled, blinking like he was trying to make sense of the world around him.
Cas’s face softened in a mix of frustration and concern. He took a deep breath, his voice gentle but insistent. “Dean, I’m taking you home now.”
“Home?" Dean let out a small, confused laugh, like the word was foreign to him, but Cas could see the fog lifting. “Wait…no—no I—” Dean began shaking his head vehemently as his body trembled in Cas’s grasp.
“Dean—”
“I can’t!” Dean pushed at Cas like he wanted him gone before gripping and pulling him back in again. “I can’t…” His voice was small, almost scared.
“Dean…” Cas began carefully, steadying Dean with his own grasp, “is this about your father?”
Dean’s lower lip shook, he looked up at Cas with pleading eyes and nodded confirmation.
“Okay…well, you can just stay with me then,” he reasoned.
Unexpectedly, Dean’s face fell again. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head once again. “N-no…”
Sighing in exasperation, Cas tried to keep his voice from rising. “What do you want me to do, Dean?”
Dean swallowed, hands still clutching Cas’s shirt and eyes downcast at the ground behind him. “M-motel…?” he murmured.
Yeah, that was not happening.
“I’m not leaving you at some motel by yourself. Not in this condition.”
“I’ll…I’ll be sober when we get…back…” Dean swallowed thickly, eyes still unable to fully focus on Castiel. “Jus’ get me to a motel...”
They were only a few feet away from Cas’s car, and he’d feel a lot better if they at least got on the road and away from this place.
“Alright, we’ll see how you’re feeling when we get there. Just please get in the car, Dean.”
Dean swayed on his feet, blinking sluggishly at Cas before letting out a heavy sigh. “Alright… yeah, okay…we’ll see how I’m feelin’…” he mumbled, his words slurred but compliant. He clumsily reached for the car door, fumbling with the handle before finally yanking it open.
They both slid in, and immediately, Dean leaned his head back against the headrest, exhaling shakily as his fingers gripped his jeans like he was trying to ground himself. Cas shut the door behind him, exhaling his own quiet sigh before rounding the car and getting in.
The engine rumbled to life, headlights cutting through the dark as Cas pulled them out of the parking lot, glancing over at Dean slumped against the window, his eyes half-lidded but still open.
—
The car ride was quiet—mostly for Dean’s sake, since he knew he’d be sporting a massive headache by now.
The neon glow of the city had faded behind them, replaced by dim streetlights and the occasional passing headlights. Cas kept his focus on the road, reminding himself which streets to take.
Dean had been silent for the entire drive, his drunken haze steadily lifting, though he still swayed slightly with each turn. Every few minutes, Cas glanced over, catching the way Dean stared out the window, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t passed out, but he wasn’t really there either—just stuck in an alcohol fueled daze.
As they neared his neighborhood, Dean finally shifted, inhaling like he was about to say something.
“Wasn’t gonna sleep with Tess.” Dean’s voice whispered into the silence, obviously more sobered now. It definitely wasn’t the first thing Cas expected him to say.
“Wasn’t gonna sleep with anyone…” he added weakly.
Cas’s jaw clenched. He was tired, and while his heart wanted to believe it, his mind was still struggling to.
“Y’have to believe me, Cas…” Dean looked over at him, eyes glistening. “I—I wouldn’t…”
Sighing, Cas kept his gaze on the road.
Dean continued to stare at him desperately. He sniffled, a pleading tone bleeding into his voice. “She was a sub, Cas. She just invited me to come watch…a-and I took it because I was drunk…n’ sad…and—” He let out a slow exhale. “‘M sorry.”
“I understand, Dean. You don’t have to explain—”
“No,” Dean shook his head firmly. “What I said to you…about findin’ your replacement. I—I didn’t mean that either, I need you to know.”
It was clear that the alcohol was still influencing Dean if he was able to remember saying that, still, Cas didn’t take it lightly. He nodded, lips parting in hesitation before murmuring, “I believe you.”
Dean sat back and breathed a sigh of relief—though, it was short lived. A few minutes of silence stretched between the two of them before Dean finally spoke again.
“It’s just…” His face crumpled, lips pressing together as his breath hitched, and his shoulders hunched like the weight of the night had finally settled on him. “My Dad…”
Cas’s head turned, eyes darting back to Dean.
“He’s sick…really fuckin’ sick, man,” Dean’s voice broke, “a-and I can’t get him to go to the hospital, and his perscription won’t come in until tomorrow and—”
A small, muffled cry came from Dean’s throat. “I was scared…and…I guess I just—kept thinkin’ about you—” another choked breath, “—and how bad I fucked this whole thing up…and I just wanted a distraction…”
“It’s okay, Dean, I understand,” Cas replied more softly now. “I just wish you would’ve called me first.”
“I know…” Dean hung his head.
Cas waited a few seconds before adding gently, “but about your father, I can go with you to your apartment if you want. We don’t have to go to a motel.”
Dean bit his lip, considering the proposition. “He’ll be mad that I don’t have his prescription.” He looked down at his fingers fiddling in his lap. “And he’ll smell the alcohol on me. It just wouldn’t end well.”
Cas didn’t argue. “Okay, I’ll take you to a motel then.”
—
They arrived at a motel about a minute away from Dean’s apartment. Cas was still extremely wary about leaving Dean here, but if he didn’t want to stay with Cas, then he wasn’t going to force him.
Half of the motel’s sign blinked while the other remained dark. Streetlights provided little visibility, which made Cas even more nervous as they pulled into a parking spot. Before he could make a move to get out, Dean whispered so quietly that Cas almost didn’t catch it.
“‘M sorry for draggin’ you into all this.” Cas’s fingers stilled on his keys still sitting in the ignition. “For makin’ you go all the way out there…”
He inhaled, prepared to tell Dean that it was okay, that he was just glad he was safe.
But then Dean spoke again, this time, there was a bitterness in his tone that wasn’t there before.
“I’m sorry for opening up that stupid damn door in the first place…”
A sharp pain erupted in Cas’s chest. There were a few beats of silence, Dean remained motionless, guilt and regret written all over his face.
Cas knew that Dean was going through a lot, and that he was still partially drunk, and so he tried to hide how badly the words affected him, and instead, thought carefully about how to respond.
“I didn’t come for you because I felt guilty. Or because I felt responsible for you because of our dynamic,” Cas replied calmly. There wasn’t much of a reaction on Dean’s part, only an increased furrowing of his brows. “I came for you because you’re my best friend and I love you.”
He’d almost considered not saying the words, but if Dean already knew, then what was the point of hiding it anymore?
Dean licked his lips, still unable to make eye contact. Cas could tell that hearing him confess again was breaking down walls that Dean had only just begun to put up.
“And even if you hadn't found the room, Dean. I’d still feel the exact same way I feel about you now.”
Dean’s head snapped, lips trembling. “Well, you shouldn’t.” The bitterness from before turned into something even more sour, poisoned with self-hatred. Cas felt himself deflate at the familiar inflection in his voice, knowing exactly where this conversation was going.
“Why?” he asked, even though he knew what Dean’s answer would be.
Dean’s jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the seatbelt across his chest before he clicked it in, then yanked it loose. Without answering, he shoved the door open, the hinges groaning in protest as he swung his legs out of the car, movements still sluggish.
The sudden rush of cool air hit Cas in the face as Dean exited, his boots hitting the pavement with a dull thud. Dean walked to the front of the car, hands raking through his hair as he exhaled sharply.
Cas hesitated only a second before unbuckling his own seatbelt and stepping out. The door shut with a quiet click behind him, but Dean didn’t turn—just stood there, hands on his forehead, then rubbing down his face like he was trying to get himself under control, trying to sober himself up, no doubt.
The motel’s flickering neon sign cast uneven shadows across the pavement, the harsh red glow outlining the stiff set of Dean’s shoulders.
“Why?” Cas asked more firmly now.
If Dean’s reasoning was something self-deprecating, then Cas wanted him to just say it outright.
Again, Dean jerked at Cas’s words, whipping around with such force that it made Cas gasp, worried that he’d fall over himself.
“Look around you, man!” Dean’s arms swung out to his sides.
Slightly confused, Cas did take a few glances at their surroundings, his brows pushed forward. Suddenly, he was more aware of the dim lights and smell of old cigarette smoke lingering in the air.
“This is where I fucking live!” Dean shouted.
“Dean—”
“Now think about New York.” He took a step towards Cas. “Think about the—the fuckin’ opportunities, the shit that you can have, the fucking people you get to be around.”
Yeah, they’re called assholes, Cas didn’t say.
“I mean…” Dean let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “What is all that compared to me, anyway? I have nothing Cas. Nothing I can give you.”
Cas felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. He could strangle him right now.
“I’m stuck in a…a one bedroom apartment with my deadbeat fucking dad making barely liveable wage as an EMT because I’m too dumb to get a paramedic liscenece—” Dean took in a breath. “What can I offer you that some rich, hotshot in New York can’t? Huh?”
Cas just stared at him dumbfounded before he finally replied.
“You.”
He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, before emphasizing once again, “they can’t give me you.”
Dean scoffed and looked away, his hands coming to rest on his hips.
“It’s not about…” Cas began slowly, making sure Dean was hearing him, “...what you offer me. It’s never been about that. I just want you, Dean. I never wanted to live a life of luxury o-or—”
“Don’t act like you didn’t hate it here when you first moved, Cas!” Dean shoved his pointer finger in the air, his tone dipping into something more accusatory. “It’s one of the first things you fucking told me!”
Cas sighed. “I admit that it took a while to grow…accustomed to living somewhere different. But that would be anyone’s experience. Besides, the point is, Dean, that none of that mattered when I met you. I stayed here because I fell in love with you! I stayed—I want to stay—because, I don’t care if it means I have to live in a damn cabin in the woods, I just want to be with you!”
Dean’s breath hitched, his fingers curling into fists at his sides, like he was forcing himself not to believe what Cas was saying.
“Finding you, becoming your friend, and everything that’s happened since then—Dean, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Dean’s expression was broken. He exhaled through his nose and gripped the back of his neck.
“My home,” Cas tried and failed to keep his voice steady, but it was breaking with every syllable, “is wherever you are.”
Dean froze. His throat bobbed, hands flexing in a way that showed how he wanted to reach for Cas, wanted to pull him in, but instead, he took a half step back. “No…no, no—” He shook his head, eyes tightly shut, “I’m not gonna let you stay here for me.”
Cas was unphased by the response—he’d seen it coming. Instead of indulging Dean’s self-sacrificial idiocy, he walked forward slowly, crowding into his space.
“You feel the same, don’t you?” he whispered.
Dean’s eyes widened, his breath stopping completely as a blush colored his cheeks.
“Don’t lie, Dean,” Cas begged, “I can see it, I know you do.”
His friend’s gaze fell to the ground.
“Why are you fighting this?”
“Because I don't want you to end up like me!” Dean quickly spat through gritted teeth. “I—I want you to be like Sam. To go off and become successful…a-and do what you wanna do in life, and find someone to marry—and just…just….”
“What? You don’t think you deserve that too? Is that really how you see yourself?” Dean looked at the ground. “Of course you deserve everything Sam has. You are smart, kind, hard-working—everything your brother is and more. You deserve love, why can’t you just accept it?”
Something shifted on Dean’s face. A decision. And at first, Cas was hopeful that maybe Dean was finally listening to him.
But when Dean looked back into his eyes, there was a cold, numbness that Cas had never seen before.
“You’re wrong.”
Cas blinked. “What?”
“I don’t love you.”
It hurt for a moment. A sharp, precise kind of pain—like the first sting of a knife before the real ache sets in. But Cas had spent enough time with Dean, had seen every shade of his self-loathing, to know exactly what this was. A defense mechanism. A desperate, misguided attempt at pushing Cas away before he could get hurt.
“I don't want you to stay. So just…go back to New York. Okay? Just go find someone else a-and live your life…”
Cas swallowed, steadying himself. He could feel the weight of Dean’s words pressing against his ribs, threatening to sink deeper, to take root. But he wouldn’t let them. Not when he could see a flicker of fear in Dean’s eyes, the way his jaw was locked too tight, his hands curled into fists like he was bracing for a fight. He knew he just had to get through to him.
“You don’t mean this, Dean. You’re tired and drunk and I understand—”
“Like hell I dont mean it!” The shouted words cut once more into Cas’s chest, his resolve crumbling bit by bit.
“Dean—” He choked out.
“Just go, Cas! Go! I don’t want you here.” Dean’s voice cracked on the last words, like he was shoving them out before they could catch in his throat. There was anger, desperation, but underneath it all, something fractured—it almost sounded like a plea, like he wasn’t just telling Cas to leave—he was begging him to.
Eyes watering, Cas couldn’t help himself from reaching out, extending his hand towards Dean like holding onto him would fix all this. But Dean recoilled sharply at the movement, retreating like a wounded animal.
Cas was a second away from falling to his knees. “Please don't do this Dean.”
Another pause.
Cas held his breath, waiting, hoping that the silence wouldn’t last.
Dean’s jaw tightened. His hands clenched, then released. And then, without another word, he turned and began walking away.
Cas took a shaky step forward, unable to whisper a single syllable from how tight his throat was.
Dean didn’t stop. Didn’t look back. He simply muttered into the night.
“It’s already done.”
The words echoed in Cas’s ears. The hope that he’d been holding onto since he first told Dean he loved him was quickly vanishing. Falling and crumbling to the ground like ash.
Notes:
Told you it was gonna get rough. And unfortunately, it's going to get a bit worse from here...
But, as always, there will be a very satisfying, happy ending.
Thanks for reading! Please share your thoughts!
Chapter 17
Summary:
- Switching POV's.
- TW's: mentions and depictions of alcoholism, **spoiler TW in the end notes**
Notes:
Hey! Sorry I left you guys on that huge cliffhanger and then abandoned this fic for five months... I have a little explanation in the end notes if you'd like to read it. :)
This was a difficult chapter to write but hopefully I did it justice. Thankfully, we're getting so close to the end, so this will be the last rough chapter you have to live through before things finally take a turn for the better!
Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
(Cas’s POV)
When Castiel walked into the hospital for his early morning shift, he’d never felt more hollow in his entire life.
The fluorescent lights, usually harsh enough to make Cas squint, didn’t even faze him as he walked down the halls, the sterile air filling his nostrils. A few cheerful coworkers offered him greetings in passing, but he couldn’t even plaster on a smile for them.
He reached for the badge dangling from his lanyard, tugging it toward the scanner. The lock beeped and the door clicked open to the locker room. Once inside, the quietness settled. No one else was in there with him, the only sounds were the faint buzzing of lights and soft muffled voices behind the walls.
He took in a breath—it felt like the first time he’d even breathed all morning.
His thoughts drifted to last night. In all honesty, Cas had expected to feel more sad. To feel more upset. To feel anything.
But he didn’t. He was just numb and empty.
Maybe it was a defense mechanism—his mind’s way of dulling the sharp edges of the pain he didn’t want to feel. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful for that or not. Though, he knew the pain would come eventually, that when the full realization of everything said and done had finally sunk in, the pain would probably be unbearable.
A distant memory surfaced in his mind, a warning Gabriel had given him at the start of his and Dean’s dynamic. “Just be careful, Cas. Don’t want a repeat of last time, now do we?”
At the time, Cas had brushed off the advice. Because even at the beginning he’d accepted that whatever he had with Dean wouldn’t end well for him. But as long as Dean wasn’t hurt and as long as Cas did his duty as a Dom to take care of him and make him feel good, then nothing else really mattered. He was used to these things not going the way he wanted them to anyway.
Of course, that was before Castiel got to experience Dean coming beneath him in his bed, or kissing him in the middle of a field under starlight, or hearing his name whispered like a prayer from Dean’s lips. All of which only made Cas fall deeper and deeper in love.
And even still, maybe he could’ve lived with being hopelessly in love with Dean without anything in return. He might’ve been able to give Dean only what he wanted and not turn this whole thing on its head.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t leave it alone, not when he’d been so sure that Dean felt the same.
Maybe for a while that sureness was touch and go—sometimes he was positive and other times he doubted that Dean ever shared the same affections as him.
But last night confirmed it—when he asked if Dean felt the same way, Cas had seen a clear yes in his eyes. And even before that—the lingered touches, the loving stares, the way they breathed each other’s names into their mouths, and not even during a scene—it was all clear evidence to Cas that it couldn’t just be him.
Dean was in love with him too.
He knew it.
And that was why he had felt so confident broaching the subject last night. When he stood his ground and claimed something that, even a few months ago he wouldn't have even dared to think of. It was like he became a different person, blinded by love.
Or blinded by hope, perhaps.
Either way, most of that confidence was drained from him now.
Now he was left with an emptiness that wasn’t very different from how he felt when he ended things with Bartholomew. That was one of the darkest times of his life. He felt like a shell of a person—not truly human, and certainly not someone worth loving. Thankfully, Gabriel had pulled him out of that dark hole of depression and self-doubt, but Cas knew that if he ever descended into that type of despair again, it was possible he wouldn’t survive it.
Not that Dean saying he didn’t love him was going to send him over the edge, because obviously, Cas wasn’t believing it for a second. He knew his best friend, and he could tell when he was trying to do the “right thing” at the expense of his own happiness. Of course it hurt to hear him say it, but the only thing keeping Cas’s head above water right now was that he was positive that Dean didn’t mean it.
And so, as he stepped out into the busy environment of the ER, he did his best to calm and reassure himself that whatever was going on with him and Dean was still salvageable. His mind didn’t always get the memo though, and when he found his thoughts spiraling, he quickly tried to submerge himself back into work. Still, his hyperfocus did little to ease the agonizingly slow passage of the day. Each hour dragged on like an eternity, even though only three had passed since the start of his shift.
And of course, no matter what he was doing—even in the middle of suturing someone's chest cavity—his mind kept circling back to Dean.
It was embarrassing to be honest.
Around the fourth hour of his shift, he decided that talking to someone about what happened last night might help him flush it out of his system. There was always Meg, though she seemed to be in a mood today, so talking to her would probably just make things worse.
Thankfully, Jody was here.
Cas didn’t usually take time to vent to coworkers on the clock. Since, one, he could be called at any second, and two, he also usually had patients with minor ailments that he could always be checking on.
But today was different, he just needed a three minute break.
Cas walked through the red zone into triage, moving out of the way of any patients being rushed through. Jody was by the center desk, pointing at a monitor with a panicked look that made Castiel’s brow furrow. The expression was so unlike the typically calm and collected head nurse he knew. He slowed his movements and hung back to see if it was a bad time—which, to be fair, in the ER it was never really a good time.
He continued walking towards the desk anyway, giving a small wave in greeting.
When Jody caught a glimpse of him approaching, her face fell even more. Almost as if whatever was upsetting her had something to do with him. Cas hesitated, then crossed the final few steps.
“Jody?” he asked gently, his voice lower than usual. “Is everything…?”
Jody looked at the screen, then turned to him again. Her expression was torn between shock and worry. The sight made his heart stutter. She didn’t answer his question at first, but after a moment of silence, her voice finally came out tight, edged with something close to fear.
“Where’s Dean?”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut.
“What?” Cas asked, sharply stepping forward, his pulse spiking as the worst kind of thoughts surged up all at once.
Without waiting for permission, he reached out and turned the monitor toward him, eyes scanning the emergency intake screen. His stomach twisted when he saw the name.
“Oh god—” he whispered, his heart hammering. His mind reeled, already spinning out, already imagining Dean’s face, what this meant.
Jody put a hand over his. He looked over at her breathless, unsure of what to even say.
“Call him.”
Castiel nodded.
— (Dean’s POV)
Dean didn’t know which was worse, the embarrassment of taking the bus back to the station to retrieve his car, or the pounding headache that was accompanying his massive hangover.
Probably the headache.
He hadn’t experienced a headache from a hangover this bad since April when he ended up in the hospital. Which, kind of made things full circle if he thought about it, right? Drinking himself into oblivion had gotten him into this mess, and now, it had ended everything.
Or, that’s what he was assuming.
Dean leaned his against the bus window, eyes tracking an ambulance rushing by as he recalled the events of yesterday. He didn’t remember much from last night’s argument with Cas—except that he knew he said some awful shit.
The blurriest memories were from the club. From getting there to Cas dragging him out—it was all just flashes of memories—touches, feelings, words spoken. He was positive that he hadn’t fooled around with anyone—hell, he was too pathetically broken up about Cas to even be attracted to anybody else. But still—the fact that he even went there in the first place had shame pooling in his stomach.
By the time Cas had brought him to the motel, he’d sobered up enough to remember a few things, though it still wasn’t completely clear. The one thing he remembered for sure was that he had told Cas the biggest lie of his fucking life.
That he didn’t love him.
And that he wanted him to leave.
Dean winced inwardly even thinking about it. He wished with everything he had that he could take it back, but it was too late.
And who knew, maybe he still would’ve said the same thing stone cold sober, and being drunk simply helped him to say it sooner than he would have otherwise. So as damaging as it was, perhaps it was better to get it over with quickly.
The bus brakes hissed as it came to a halt, pulling Dean from his thoughts. He groaned, picking himself up from his seat like he was carrying 50 pounds of extra weight. He trudged through the small aisle before stepping through the doors, squinting at the sunlight.
All he could think was how grateful he was that he didn’t have to go to work until later this evening. Maybe he could sleep off some of this hangover before then.
The station was only a few blocks from the bus stop, so it didn’t take long for him to walk there. He kept his head down the whole way, hoping that his coworkers wouldn’t see him doing a walk of shame to his car. When he reached the parking lot of the station, he dug in his pockets, feeling for his keys, phone, and wallet—the only three things that he brought with him on his outing last night. He walked up to his car and as he began unlocking the driver’s side, he looked down at his phone—which had been turned to silence—and noticed the missed calls and messages.
He sighed. Most of the messages were probably from Cas from last night, so he didn’t feel the need to respond to any right now—he’d look at it later.
Right now, what he needed to do was check the pharmacy and get back to his Dad as fast as he could.
He tried to bite back the sting of guilt he felt from not going home last night with the prescription. Even though he couldn’t bring the medicine home, he still should’ve checked on his dad.
The justification he gave to Cas for not going last night—while half true—wasn’t the whole reason. The truth was, he knew showing up wasted in front of his father would make him a hypocrite. That ultimately, all the shit that he berated his dad for would be null because he was just as bad as him—drowning in alcohol any time his life went slightly awry.
But regardless, he still felt a responsibility for his dad, even if it was grounded in unhealthy reasons. And he couldn’t keep ignoring his presence, especially when the guy was as sick as he was.
Dean let out a long, slow exhale as Baby rumbled to life. He pulled out his phone once again, and just as he was about to look up the pharmacy number to check on the prescription, a flash of movement caught his eye.
Dean glanced out the driver’s window.
Bobby.
The man was speed walking—which Dean could confidently say was a first—towards Dean’s car.
Dean debated speeding off, knowing Bobby was probably coming over to lecture him about leaving his car there. But since he knew that would only make matters worse, he put the car back into park, rolled his window down, and threw on an apologetic smile, ready for the earful he was about to receive.
When Bobby got within earshot, Dean opened his mouth, about to let out a joke to lighten his mood—then, something about the look on Bobby’s face instantly had his jaw clamping shut, the hairs rising on his skin.
Bobby wasn’t one to be scared, in fact, it was one of the only emotions that Dean couldn’t ever recall seeing in his station chief—and yet, it was written all over his expression. He knew if Bobby was scared about something, then it was serious.
Dean gulped nervously, and pushed the door open, stepping out of the car.
“What’s up, Bobby?”
“Dean,” Bobby replied curtly, his voice had a frantic edge to it, despite his obvious efforts to remain calm. “I need you to come inside with me right now.”
“Why?” He smiled nervously. “Somethin’ wrong?”
Dean felt a pit growing in his stomach, something instinctual. His mind wandered, but he forced himself to stop thinking. He didn’t want to speak what he was thinking into existence, even in his own mind.
Though, some part of him just knew what this was about.
“Just,” Bobby placed a hand on his back, moving him to walk back with him, “come inside.”
They quickly walked into the station together, Dean desperately asking him to explain the whole way there, but with no success. Bobby kept his features as calm and still as possible, even though he himself looked to be on the edge of breaking.
When they stepped inside, Dean turned to him angrily. “Bobby, what the hell is going on?”
“Sit down, Son.”
Dean huffed, but didn’t argue. He sat on one of the couch cushions and looked up at Bobby expectantly.
“Dean, something happened. We’ve been tryin’ to call you all morning—all of us, but we couldn’t get a hold of you.”
Dean threw a glance over his shoulder to see Benny, Jo and Ash all standing nervously to the side. And if Bobby’s behavior hadn’t been alarming before, Dean was in full panic mode now.
He quickly snapped his head back to Bobby.
He wasn’t sure why, and he knew it didn’t make sense, but immediately, his thoughts went to Cas.
Could something have happened when Cas left?
Was he…
Dean swallowed, it felt like glass shards were embedded in his throat.
His thoughts continued to swirl. What if the last thing Dean told him was that he didn’t love him? That he wanted him to leave?
After a few seconds, Bobby’s voice broke through the panicked torrent growing in his mind with two words that were almost just as painful.
“Your father…”
Dean’s eyes darted upwards.
No.
It felt like his lungs were collapsing, ripped of air.
No.
His stomach dropped, the word tilting as sounds began fading around him. Bobby tried to add something, but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. It was like his brain refused to process the rest, as though hearing more would make it real, would solidify the thing he was desperately trying to reject.
His Dad was alive. He had to be.
Dean’s hands trembled at his sides. He felt his heart pounding in his throat as he was suddenly slammed with all of the memories, every unfinished conversation, every fight. There was a crushing pressure on his chest. John couldn’t leave him yet. He fucking couldn’t.
Dean stood, shaking his head. “N-no, you’re—that’s—“
Bobby laid a hand on his shoulder encouraging him to sit back down. “It’s okay, Son. Just sit down—”
A wave of desperation rose up to the surface, sending a surge of anger through Dean as he pushed Bobby’s hand away. “No!” he yelled, voice scratchy from the tightness in his throat. “What are you saying, Bobby—w-what…what hap—” His voice gave up on him, cracking before he could finish the sentence.
“Just…” Bobby sighed, giving up on trying to make Dean sit. He looked at Dean with a sad expression of sympathy. “He’s in the hospital.”
Dean swallowed before sinking back onto the couch. It wasn’t good news, but it was better than hearing he was dead.
Eyes closed, Dean whispered. “What happened?”
“Heart attack,” Bobby replied. “The last thing we heard was that he’s in surgery right now.”
Every muscle in Dean’s body felt like it could snap from the tension. His hands trembled as Bobby relayed the news.
“He was…” the Chief hesitated for a moment, “...on his way here. They think. He collapsed at a bus stop close to here. North Kansas ambulances responded not long after.”
Dean straightened. An ambulance had passed him while taking the bus here. Which meant he couldn’t have been far behind John since they probably took the same bus route. The thought made Dean’s insides tighten further, clenching with guilt.
John was probably trying to find him, that’s why he was on the bus in the first place.
This was his fault. His father could die any minute because of him.
He stood abruptly, feeling for his keys in his pocket. “I’m going.” He wasn’t sure why he expected push back from Bobby, but the older man simply nodded understandingly.
“Let me take you.” Benny spoke up from beside him, a reassuring hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
Unable to trust his voice, Dean gave a stiff, wordless nod in return. He turned and followed Benny out to the parking lot, Bobby’s voice a distant, muffled sound he barely registered as they walked away.
All Dean could do was send out a hopeless prayer that his dad was still alive by the time they got there.
—
The second Benny’s truck came to a stop, Dean was out of it. His boots pounding on the pavement blurred with the sound of the thudding pulse in his ears. He barely registered the sliding glass doors as he sprinted in, fully prepared to skip whatever line there was to find his father.
Luckily, he didn’t need to since Cas was standing at the front desk. He looked just as anxious as Dean felt.
Their eyes met, locking for the first time since last night. Instantly, Dean felt the desire to reach out and hug him. But with panic twisting in his gut and too many eyes on them, he refrained, clenching his fists at his sides instead.
“Dean,” Cas said, his voice low and shaken. He looked tired—dark circles under his eyes, hair out of place, and scrubs wrinkled and clinging to his skin. He cleared his throat and took a few steps forward. It didn’t take much for Dean to recognize the familiar expression on his friend's face, or the way his arms were extended slightly out.
Dean backed away, eyes darting to the door leading back into the ER. Without waiting to see Cas’s reaction, Dean asked sharply. “Where is he, Cas? I need to see him.”
Cas hesitated, and Dean hated the flicker of guilt he saw there. “He’s still in surgery, Dean…”
The logical part of Dean’s brain shut off as rage and fear mixed inside him, coursing through his veins and making all sense of logic abandon him. “I need to see him, Cas—I have to make sure—”
“Dean, just come with me, I’ll take you to a place you can wait while—”
The gentle, guiding hand that Cas had tried to place on his shoulders was brushed off with a huff—why couldn’t people stop coddling him? It’s not like Dean deserved it anyway.
Instead of responding to Cas’s suggestion, Dean’s mind supplied him with another senseless offense to hurl at him.
“Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
Cas’s mouth parted in disbelief, but he quickly schooled his features, taking in a breath before replying. “I did. Who do you think called Bobby when you didn’t answer?”
Dean looked away and closed his eyes, shame crawling up his throat like acid. His phone. Goddamn it. He hadn’t even—
Before he could apologize, a comforting presence stepped close to him, arms wrapping around his torso. His eyes split open.
It was Jody.
Although he stiffened at first, eventually Dean returned the hug, unable to fight the need for comfort any longer. The bitter sting of tears forcing their way to the corners of his eyes as he weakly wrapped his arms around her.
He sniffled, managing a, “hey, Jody,” with a shaky breath.
She squeezed him. “Hey, kid,” she murmured against his shoulder.
Dean blinked, trying to get the tears to go away, but it only made them flood his vision more. He tried to ignore the way Cas stared at him, the rest of the ER busily moving around them.
After a few seconds, Jody let him go, giving his arm a squeeze and pull. “Come on, let’s sit down.”
Dean didn’t argue, he simply followed her to the waiting room. Cas trailed behind, the air heavy around them as Dean was led to a corner seat away from the few other people there. Jody guided him into a chair before stepping back, leaving Cas to drop into the chair beside Dean.
“When can I see him?” He asked, not really directing the question at either of them.
Jody answered. “We’ll let you know as soon as we do.”
Unable to do anything else, Dean nodded and reached for her hand, squeezing gently in thanks. Thankfully, she seemed to understand everything Dean was trying to say without saying it, as she smiled softly in return before walking away.
When they were left alone—or, as alone as anyone could be in an ER waiting room—Dean took in a deep breath, trying to center himself.
“You don’t have to stay in here with me,” he finally mumbled, sparing a quick glance Cas’s way.
Cas linked his fingers together in his lap, not making eye contact—Dean didn’t blame him.
“I thought you might want to hear what happened.”
Dean’s heart clenched. His eyes trailed back down to the ugly tiled floor. “Oh…y-yeah, please.”
Cas shifted, like he was getting ready to speak but didn’t know where to start. He glanced at Dean, then looked away, jaw tightening. His fingers still laced together in his lap.
“Someone called 911 from a bus stop downtown. Said a man had collapsed. When the paramedics got there, they found your father—he was unconscious, barely breathing. They started CPR on the scene and got a pulse back just before arriving at the ER.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean noticed Cas pausing to check for his reaction. He didn’t move though, or speak. Just stared straight ahead, trying not to come apart.
Cas continued, voice softer. “Most likely your father’s heart disease weakened his heart so much that it couldn’t keep up. The blood backed up into his lungs and the strain caused his heart to stop. Even though they were able to resuscitate him, they knew he wasn’t stable, so they had to take him into surgery to drain the fluid and relieve the pressure on his heart.”
Dean finally released the breath he'd been holding through a pained exhale. Meanwhile, the tears that he definitely hadn’t been able to hold back, trickled down the bridge of his nose and landed on his boots in short, small splatters.
It really was pathetic, crying for a man like John. Anyone in their right mind would tell him it’s not worth wasting the energy.
But Cas was gentle with Dean. Patient. And if there was anyone Dean was willing to be vulnerable around without being judged, it was Cas. So instead, he let himself sink into the grief.
“I am so sorry, Dean,” Cas whispered gently.
Dean shrugged, wiping away the wetness under his nose. “S’not your fault.”
The reassurance didn't loosen the frown fixed on Castiel’s face.
“Still, you don’t deserve this,” he sighed and Dean felt a hot wave of shame and guilt wash over him. “I wish there was something I could—”
“You’re wrong,” Dean interjected.
Because Cas was wrong, this whole thing was Dean’s fault. It’s not about what he deserved, it’s about what he did.
When Cas tilted his head, brows pinching together, Dean added, “he’s in there because of me, Cas. If I had just checked on him…o-or got his fucking medicine...”
Castiel’s eyes flickered. It was clear there was a decision being made in his mind about how to respond, fully aware of the weight of his following words. “Dean… by the time your father showed up at your door, it was almost certainly too late. Even if he’d started taking his medication right then and there—it wouldn’t have stopped this.”
Lip trembling, Dean shook his head.
“I know you want to believe you could’ve prevented it,” Cas continued with a tone only comparable to that of someone trying to calm a crying child. “But you couldn’t have. What happened, it wasn’t within your control.”
Dean knew Cas would say that, but no matter how much he tried to reason with him, Dean just couldn’t get it out of his head. He was supposed to take care of his dad. That was his job, and he failed.
Cas watched his blank expression only a second longer before slowly getting up from the chair. He turned to face Dean, then crouched in front of him, gently taking both Dean’s hands into his own.
Dean’s lungs expanded as he gasped softly, immediately trying to pull away. “Cas—”
But Cas’s grip tightened, firm and grounding. “Dean,” he said, voice low but urgent. “Look at me.” The unspoken please was enough to make Dean soften, guards beginning to lower slightly.
The warmth of Cas’s hands in his, it was too tempting, too comforting. He let himself fall into the feeling, not gripping back, but letting himself be held.
Though, his eyes were a different story. He couldn’t force himself to look at Cas.
“Hey,” Cas let go of one hand and gently cupped the side of Dean’s face, guiding him to look into his eyes. And even though he could’ve pulled away, Dean obeyed the request anyway.
Cas tried again. “This is not your fault.”
There was a small flutter in Dean’s chest, like a spark of hope that was trying to stir to life. Still, it wasn’t enough to convince him—he seriously doubted that anything ever would—though Castiel was trying his absolute best. He gripped his palm and rubbing his thumb soothingly over Dean’s skin. He seemed so desperate to comfort him that he looked damn near on the verge of crying himself.
And of course, typical Dean couldn’t accept that kind of love without imploding.
Mind completely void of any reasoning, he shoved Cas’s hands away and grabbed his arms to pull him in, burying his face into the side of Cas’s neck. He wasn’t sure if he’d done the action in an effort to get Cas to stop trying to convince him this wasn’t his fault, or if it was to stop the tears he’d seen forming in his friend’s eyes.
Cas froze for just a heartbeat. Then he wrapped his arms around Dean, cradling the back of his head with one hand and rubbing slow, reassuring circles over his back with the other. “It’s okay,” he murmured, again and again. “It’s going to be okay, Dean. I’ve got you.”
Dean didn’t know how long he held on for—long enough for the burn in his throat to dull, long enough for the frantic beat of his heart to settle into something slower, something almost calm. But the calm didn’t last. Guilt crept in like a chill, and the warmth of Cas’s arms around him only made it worse.
He pulled back abruptly, not meeting Cas’s eyes. “I—I should let you get back to work,” he said, voice rough, almost like an apology.
Cas blinked. “Dean…”
But Dean was already pulling away, scrubbing a hand down his face like he could wipe off the moment. “You’ve got patients and stuff to do. I’ll be fine.”
Cas hesitated. His eyes searched Dean’s face, worried, uncertain, like he wanted to push—but knew better.
“If you need anything,” Cas said quietly, “just—call me, okay?”
Dean gave a short nod, eyes fixed on the floor.
Cas lingered for another second, then slowly stepped back. “I’ll come check on you later,” he added, softer now, like he was trying not to spook a wounded animal.
Dean didn’t answer.
And with one last glance, Cas turned and walked away, leaving Dean alone in the waiting room.
— (Cas’s POV)
It was several hours later before Cas was able to give Dean good news.
His friend had stayed in the waiting room the whole time while Cas had peeked his head in once or twice to find him pacing or simply staring at the wall—his expression somehow even more unreadable than it had been yesterday.
Cas had thought about asking the hospital for someone to cover his shift so he could stay with him the whole time, but Dean had made it very clear that he wanted to be alone after their unexpected hug. It was frustrating to see Dean shut down, crawling back inside himself—no doubt because he thought he didn’t deserve the comfort. It was disappointing, not only for Cas—selfishly—to be given something one second then denied the next, but also because he knew part of the reason Dean was denying Cas was because he was denying himself.
Because in his mind, this was all his fault.
Cas would give anything for Dean to realize how wrong he was.
When Cas brought the news that John had made it through his surgery without any major complications, he’d expected Dean to be more happy about it. But if it brought him any relief, it was barely noticeable.
“Can I see him?” Dean croaked. It was a desperate dry sound—like he hadn’t spoken in days.
“In a little while—“
“I need to see him, Cas.” His face twisted into a more pleading expression, “please.”
“They’re still getting him situated, but as soon as he’s ready I’ll take you to him,” Cas reassured him.
Dean nodded before dropping quietly back into his chair.
— (Dean’s POV)
John’s hand felt cold.
And thin, paper thin—like the rough callouses he’d built over his fifty some years of life had all but withered away, and the rest of his strength with it. But Dean held onto it anyway—or more like rested over it. He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do in a situation like this since he’d never had to sit by the bedside of a dying loved one.
His mother was the only person he’d ever really lost, and he certainly didn’t have the luxury of saying goodbye and seeing her pass away slowly in a hospital room.
Although, now that Dean was here, he was starting to think it wasn’t such a luxury. Maybe he would’ve preferred his Dad going out quick and fast. No waiting around with hope that he might pull through only to be crushed with disappointment when he didn’t. Dean was dreading that part—because even though all the nurses and doctors involved with John’s care obviously wanted to tell Dean everything was going to be okay, he knew they couldn’t.
Which was fine, Dean didn’t want false hope anyway.
What he did want, however, was his brother.
Sam was always good at helping him make sense of his feelings in situations like this—how to separate the sympathy he had for his Dad and the just anger he had for John. He may not have always listened to his younger brother, and he’d never admit it, but it was nice to hear his advice sometimes.
Though, John had never really gotten this close to death before, so maybe if Sam was here he would be just as lost as Dean was.
Which, speaking of—he still had to call him.
It crossed Dean’s mind a few times in the waiting room, but he knew he couldn’t trust his voice to get through the call. And honestly, he didn’t want to deal with Sam’s questions—not until he had something real to tell him.
He still didn’t have many answers now, but John had made it out of surgery, and according to the doctors, he had a fighting chance. That had to count for something.
Either way, it was enough that Dean felt like he could tell Sam, and hopefully get him on the next flight out.
—
“I can’t.”
Dean’s feet shifted, hand gripping tighter onto his phone. “What the hell do you mean you can’t?”
“I mean I can’t just pick up everything and fly to Kansas. I have meeting for my internship the day after tomorrow.”
“So? Can’t you just fly back out?”
Sam let out a sigh. “That’s a lot of time and money, Dean…”
“Oh,” Dean said flatly, the sarcasm barely masking the hurt underneath. “Sorry I guess I just thought your fucking dad dying might be worth spending a little extra money—”
“Dean…”
“Really, Sam?!” Dean gritted out in hushed anger. His eyes darted to the open door of John’s room, landing on his still form. “You’re gonna make me watch him die on my own?” The last part was said much softer, more desperate.
“You said he made it out of surgery. That’s a good sign, right?” Sam tried to argue, but it was obvious even he thought it was weak.
“Sam—” Dean closed his eyes, releasing a breath to calm himself. He knew Sam didn’t care about his Dad as much as he did, but he sure as hell didn’t expect him to react like this. “I don’t…” he hesitated, worried Sam wouldn’t change his mind about abandoning him. “I don’t want to do this alone.”
The line went silent for a few seconds until Dean finally added, “please.”
Sam sighed again, though this time it sounded less annoyed and more resigned. “I’ll see if I can reschedule my meeting.”
Dean swallowed the lump that had been growing in his throat since the beginning of the conversation. “Thanks,” he replied gruffly.
“Yeah.”
There was another pause, heavier this time.
“I…I’m sorry you went through that, Dean. I—” Sam’s voice faltered, Dean could tell he was searching for the right words. “I didn’t mean to make light of it, I just…”
“‘S fine Sammy. I know you gotta lot of shit going on right now.” Dean shoved a hand in his pocket. “And I know you and dad aren’t exactly the best of pals either, so…”
“It’s not—that’s not—” Sam held his breath for a second before letting out a quiet laugh. “Honestly? I think I’m just scared of how I’ll feel seeing him like that, you know?”
“Scared of what?” Dean scoffed lightly. “Scared that you’ll start feeling bad for him?”
“Kind of,” Sam admitted. “I guess I just spent a lot of time unpacking and working through my feelings about how he treated us. Part of me doesn’t want to relapse into the kind of person I was before who let myself get manipulated by his narcissistic victim complex.”
“And by that ‘kind of person,’ you mean me.” Dean said more than asked.
“N-no I—” Sam stuttered.
“It’s fine, Sam. You ain’t exactly wrong.” He tried to play it off with a light hearted chuckle, but deep down he knew it wasn’t really a joking matter.
“We both still have a lot to work on.”
“Me a lot more than you,” Dean muttered.
The line went quiet, there was an obvious shift when Sam spoke again.
“Are you staying the night at the hospital?”
Dean cringed thinking about it. He hated hospitals enough but he especially despise sleeping in them. It wasn’t like he really had a choice though.
“Guess so.”
“Is Cas there?”
Dean crossed one of his arms over his chest and took a gander down the hall. “He’s working, but he’s here, yeah.”
“Why don’t you stay with him then? I mean, doesn’t he live close to the hospital? At least that way you could get some decent res—”
“No.” Dean blurted, heat washing over his face.
“Dad is at least stable, Dean, you don’t have to stay with him all the—”
“I said no, Sam.”
Sam paused and Dean could practically hear him thinking. “This isn’t about Dad, is it?”
Dean backed up a few steps until his back hit the wall. He was so exhausted he almost let himself sink to the floor. “Cas…” His voice hitched, words catching in his throat. Eventually, he forced them out. “Cas is going back to New York.”
“What?” Sam asked with genuine confusion.
“He got a job offer.”
“Okay…but why would he take it? I thought—”
“I told him to.”
Even though he couldn’t see him, Dean knew the instance Sam put on his bitchface.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because…” Dean looked sheepishly down at his jeans, pulling absently on a frayed string. “He deserves to go.”
“He didn’t want to go though, did he?”
Yeah, there was no way Dean could hide anything from his brother. “It’s what’s best for him—”
“God, Dean, you are such an idiot.” Sam exclaimed in disbelief.
Dean chewed on the inside of his cheeks refusing to respond.
“You better talk him into staying.”
“It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late.”
Dean exhaled, pushing himself off the wall before walking back towards John’s room and leaning against the door frame. “No, I’m pretty sure it is.”
“Has he booked a plane ticket? Has he sold his house? If the answer is no then it’s not too late.”
“That’s not what I mean, Sammy.” Dean looked solemnly down at the floor. “I mean the only thing that would keep him here…” he trailed off, “it’s just too late.”
“Okay can we stop talking in middle school speech and just tell me what the hell happened? I mean it’s obvious you talked about your feelings for each other—”
“Sam,” Dean hissed, mostly involuntarily. He and Cas have always been a topic of unspoken understanding between him and his brother, but Sam has never straight up called out Dean’s feelings for his best friend until now—it was just a bit jarring.
Maybe because it made it feel more real.
“What? I’m not wrong, am I?”
That little fucker.
Dean backed away from the door for the small chance his Dad were to wake up and hear him talking about his feelings for Cas—something that would probably give the guy another heart attack if he was being honest.
He took a few steps into the hall, turning to face the exit closest to him. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
Sam laughed softly. “Yeah, that’s kind of my job.”
Dean sighed. “I dunno, Sam, a lot of stuff happened.”
“So…you argued—big whoop. People argue, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fix it.”
“Sometimes things aren’t meant to be fixed.”
Sam let him sit in silence for a moment. “Are you really that self-destructive?”
“I’m trying to make this not about myself, Sam. I’m not what he needs. He deserves something…better. He wasn’t supposed—We weren’t supposed to—” Dean bit his tongue, then let out a deep exhale. “It was just supposed to be casual.”
“Wait…did you guys…?” The implication of the question was undeniable.
The only answer Dean gave was to clear his throat.
“You guys messed around, are you kidding me?”
“It was only supposed to be physical. H-he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with me.”
“If I know anything, and I’m pretty sure I know most things—” Dean rolled his eyes, “—then I know that Cas has definitely been in love with you since as long as I’ve known him at least.”
Dean opened his mouth to refute when the sound of a soft cough made him turn around.
“Cas,” Dean gasped softly in surprise.
“Yes I’m talking about Cas, who else would I be talking about?”
“Not you—Sam, I gotta go,” Dean murmured into the phone before abruptly hanging up.
Cas looked at Dean timidly, he’s face sunken and tired looking.
“H-how long have you been standing there?” Dean asked while fumbling to pocket his device.
Cas looked away, peering into John’s room. “Long enough,” he said on an exhale. It sounded sad and it made Dean want to punch himself in the face.
Embarrassment washed over him so fast his head spun. “Cas I’m—”
“How’s your father?” His friend interjected, clearly wanting to move past whatever half-assed apology Dean was trying to come up with. He walked past him and into the room, going up to John’s monitor.
“H-he still hasn’t woken up,” Dean pointed out the obvious.
Cas didn’t respond, simply continued doing something with John’s monitor, then stuck his own hands in the pockets of his scrubs. When he finally looked at Dean again, it made his heart stutter.
“I’ve finished my shift. Do you need anything?” The words came out so gentle and caring, so undeserving of how Dean should be talked to.
He scratched the back of his neck. “Um…maybe a-a change of clothes. I feel like I’ve been wearing this outfit for days.”
Cas nodded. “I can do that. Anything else? Food maybe?”
Dean shook his head.
“Dean, you need to eat.”
Dean sat down in the chair next to the bed and placed his elbows on his knees. “I’m just not hungry.”
Cas started to say something, but then cut himself off—no doubt the Dom in him wanting to order Dean to eat. Dean knew it had to be hard trying to stifle that part of himself after all this time. Still, he was grateful Cas didn’t push the matter, because he was positive if he tried to eat anything right now that it would just end up on the floor.
Cas didn’t say anything else, allowing silence to fill the space.
Dean shifted in his seat, cleared his throat, and dared a glance at Cas before looking away again. His chest felt tight—he knew it wasn’t just the exhaustion or the worry about his dad, it was the anxious feeling of not knowing where he and Castiel stood, or even how Cas felt about last night.
Intensified by the silence, eventually, the anxiety bubbled over. “So uh…” Dean began carefully, “when are you planning on leaving?”
Cas looked genuinely hurt by the question at first—probably surprised Dean would even bring it up right now—but then he looked away sharply, expression blank.
Dean knew it was a sucky thing to ask, but if he was gonna have to deal with Cas leaving anyway, then might as well rip the band aid off, right?
“You know, not all my life decisions are contingent on what you tell me to do,” Cas replied.
Dean looked away too. “Sorry,” he said softly, then louder, “I just thought…after everything I did, you know, you might wanna get as far away from me as possible.”
Cas sidestepped, eyes snapping over to him. If Dean thought he’d pissed Cas off before, he was fuming now.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I am not going to pick up and leave you just because you got drunk and lied about your feelings.”
Dean’s throat clicked.
He didn’t like where this was going. Because even if Cas could see through his facade, it didn’t make the reasoning behind his lying any less valid. In fact, looking at his sick and dying father lying on the bed in front of him only made his reasoning feel even more justified.
“I didn’t lie, Cas.” He turned his head away, jaw clenching. “We wouldn’t work.”
“That’s not what you said.” Cas pointed out, a stern look in his eyes.
Dean crossed his arms defiantly. “Well, it’s what I’m saying now.”
Cas shook his head. “You are infuriating.”
“I’m trying to help you, Cas.”
“No, you’re trying to help yourself,” he shot back, “you’re afraid of someone loving you unconditionally because you grew up with a love that was entirely conditional, and now, you’d rather throw any excuse you can conjure up at me than actually try to—”
“You really want to be with me, huh?” The chair Dean had been sitting in screeched as he abruptly rose to his feet. “My Dad is gonna need 24/7 care for months at least, that means when I’m not working, I have to watch him or hire someone else to. Hell, I’ll probably have to move back in with him! I have nothing but a fucking high school degree and I can’t even convince myself to try and become a paramedic so I’m gonna have to work twice as much to pay for these hospital bills.” Dean stuck his pointer finger in John’s direction. “I’ll have no time for anything else because I’m gonna be chained to him for the rest of his life!”
His chest heaved with breaths from raising his voice. As soon as the quiet settled, Dean immediately regretted getting angry. Again.
Cas didn’t look at him when he muttered softly, “I can help with the bills, Dean.”
In an instant, the frustration seeped back in. “I don’t want your help,” he grunted, then dropped defeatedly back into the chair. “I don’t want to pull you down with me, Cas. I…just want better for you.”
“What about for yourself?” The question was asked softly but firmly.
Dean met Cas’s eyes. “What?”
“Don’t you want better for yourself?”
His mouth fell open as he pondered the question.
“Have you considered that the only reason you’re chained to your father is because you choose to be?”
Dean balled his fists together, his defenses flying up. “It’s my job—”
“Says who, Dean?” Cas urged. “Didn’t you tell him before that you were done with his careless selfishness? You walked away Dean, why can’t you just stay away?”
“He’s my Dad, Cas!” Dean snapped. “I’m sorry your parents are rich and distant and don’t give a damn, but I don’t have that luxury, alright? I can’t just walk away. I’m the one who’s gotta be here!”
A steely expression took hold of Cas’s features. “You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like. But I can guarantee that I would rather my father ignore me than use, manipulate me, and make me feel bad for putting myself first.”
He was right. And Dean knew he was right, but he still couldn’t admit it. Maybe it was because of his own pride, or the heightened emotions he was feeling because of his father, or simply just that he couldn’t let Cas sabotage his own life by removing one of the only things left standing between them.
“Leave,” Dean said before he even realized his mouth was moving. It came out almost as a pleading whisper—but still serious enough that Cas looked shocked and hurt all at once.
“Dean, I’m sorry—” The crack in his voice almost had Dean backing down.
“Just go. Go back to New York like I told you. I don’t need your help or your sympathy. Just…please—“
Dean’s whole body jolted in surprise when he felt hands close around his own, Cas’s shadow casting over his face as he knelt down in front of Dean the same way he’d done earlier in the waiting room. His eyes were bluer than Dean had ever seen them.
“I want to stay,” Cas said firmly, his lip trembling only slightly. “Please. Let me stay.”
The irony of Cas being the one on his knees, begging Dean—after months of Dean being the one in that position—made his stomach flip. Cas wasn’t demanding that he was going to stay, he was asking if he could. He didn’t have to ask, but he was anyway—on his knees, close to tears, looking at Dean in desperation.
The display nearly broke him—made him want to pull Cas into his arms and tell him how much he wanted him to stay. And God, he nearly did.
“I’m sorry, Cas, I’m—”
It happened so fast that Dean barely had time to react to it—the press of Castiel’s lips to his.
The feeling was such a familiar and welcome sensation that his mind took several seconds to catch up with the rest of his body. Once it did, he made a small sound in the back of his throat, trying to push Cas gently away from him. But the older man wasn’t giving up that easily. He grabbed Dean’s face, letting their kiss deepen. His lips were dry but warm, drawing Dean further in.
The only reason Dean was even able to remind himself to stop kissing back was the realization that his father could wake up at any moment and see them.
“Mmph—Cas—” He breathed out as soon as his mouth had parted far away enough to form words.
His friend still didn’t stop at first. Instead, he attempted to escalate the kiss even further by pushing his tongue slightly into Dean’s mouth and maneuvering him in a way that always had Dean’s mouthwatering. The entire time, Cas’s eyes were squeezed shut, as if he was trying to block out any image of Dean rejecting him, hoping that he would give in, say yes.
But with every press of their mouths together, Dean’s worry about his father only increased.
“Cas—stop—” he panted urgently. He reached up and grabbed Cas’s hands, peeling them away from his face. It was only then that Cas finally acquiesced. He stilled, a small sigh escaping his lips as he turned his head downward and withdrew his hands away.
After Cas had fully parted, he remained kneeling in front of Dean. It felt like his last way of silently asking Dean to let him stay. And even though Dean knew that telling him no would feel like cutting out his own heart, he didn’t have much of a choice.
“I-I’m sorry, Cas….” Dean’s hands twitched, still itching to reach out and touch him. “You don’t have to believe me…but I’m doing this for you.”
For a few seconds, Dean wasn’t sure Cas would ever move or look up at him. His stillness was louder than any argument they’d ever had, and Dean could feel it—like a weight pressing down on his chest. But when Cas finally did lift his head, there was sadness in his eyes. Not anger. Not even disappointment. Just plain heartbreak.
“No, you’re not,” Cas said quietly.
Then he pushed himself to his feet, slow and stiff, like standing took effort now. Dean stood too, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he did.
“Cas—” he croaked, his voice low, unsure if he was trying to stop him or just needing to say his name one more time.
“I’ll get Singer or Jody to bring you a change of clothes,” he interrupted, already walking towards the door. He stopped in the threshold long enough to look at Dean for just a moment.
“Goodbye, Dean.” The words were spoken quick and soft, as if it were just a normal parting.
And if there was ever time during this whole mess that Dean was beginning to regret everything, that was it.
He wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
But then Cas was gone, and Dean was left wondering if it was the last time he’d ever see him.
— (Cas’s POV)
For the past 48 hours, Castiel thought he’d had a good handle on everything—all things considered. He hadn’t had any serious breakdowns, or let himself fall into a state of complete depression, and in his mind, that should be marked as a success.
But if he was being honest with himself, he’d been barely holding it together ever since he told Dean he loved him on the side of the road, and now, it was simply mere luck that he’d managed to make it through the past two days.
The only reason he’d been able to hold onto hope this long was because he trusted that Dean would come to his senses. That Cas would be able to say or do something that would make him change his mind.
But when he walked out of John’s hospital room after laying himself bare and being rejected once again, it finally hit him—Dean wasn’t budging. After that had finally sunk in, he did his absolute best to hold his composure long enough to gather his things and ask Jody if she could see about Dean’s change of clothes.
But as soon as he shut the door to his car, everything released.
Castiel’s breath hitched before he could even turn the key in the ignition. His hands trembled on the steering wheel as the sting behind his eyes sharpened into something unbearable. His whole body stayed perfectly still, but inside he was breaking apart, piece by piece.
His mind recalled how Dean looked staring down at him, the hollowness in his eyes. Even when Castiel had gotten on his knees and begged him not to throw what they had away, it still wasn’t enough.
Castiel let out a sound—something between a breath and a sob—and hunched forward, pressing his forehead to the top of the steering wheel. It felt humiliating to fall apart in a parking garage, but there was nowhere else to go. He sucked in a sharp breath and clenched his jaw, trying to will himself silent. But it didn’t work. The tears came anyway, hot and fast, slipping past his lashes and falling onto his lap in quick succession.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried like this—alone, in the dark. Maybe the last time he dropped. Which only had him squeezing the tears out even harder from his shut eyes as he remembered Dean’s comforting words and touches that had soothed him during that time.
His chest heaved as he tried to breathe through it, gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white. Every part of him ached. His heart, his head, even his hands.
He didn’t know how long he cried like an idiot, but when it did finally pass—or, dulled, at least—he sat in silence, his eyes raw and scrubs stuck uncomfortably to the sweat on the back of his neck.
He was tired.
Eventually, he forced himself to drive home, though he couldn’t recall a single detail of the drive.
Once inside, he didn’t bother turning on any lights. The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft grey wash of daylight slipping through the blinds. Castiel moved through it like a ghost, dropping his bag by the door and toeing off his shoes with leaden limbs. He didn’t change out of his clothes. He didn’t take a shower or drink water or put on music or do any of the things he might normally do to feel human again.
Instead, he sat silently in his kitchen.
There was a pounding in the front of his head, accompanied by a soreness radiating from his red, puffy eyes. He wanted to drink water, parch the thirst from his dry mouth, but he couldn’t even muster the energy to pour himself a glass.
Time passed. It could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been an hour. He couldn’t tell. Eventually, the silence became too loud—or maybe the loneliness did.
Cas reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled past a few names and hovered for a moment over Dean’s contact then swiped right past it. Once he got to the G’s in his contact, he pressed the call button before he could think twice.
It rang twice, then Gabriel answered.
“Cassie!” Gabe greeted cheerfully, though with a note of distraction. “What can I do for you?”
Castiel didn’t speak right away. His voice cracked when he finally said, “I didn’t know who else to call.”
There was a pause, then a drawn out sigh before Gabe muttered something to someone on the other side of the phone and replied, “I’m assuming this has something to do with your dearly beloved?”
Castiel glared at his phone as he sat it on the counter in front of him, hitting the speaker button.
“Aaand I’ll take your silence as a yes.”
Cas sniffled, folding his arms underneath his chest and resting his elbows on the counter.
“Go on,” Gave encouraged with another small sigh, “tell your big bro everything.”
“I—” Castiel’s throat tightened, unsure of how to begin. After a few moments of graciously uninterrupted silence to collect his thoughts, he started again. “I told him I loved him,” the words slipped out through a grated whisper.
He let Gabe process what he’d just said for a few moments, but when the silence became too thick, Castiel spoke up quietly. “Gabriel?”
“Sorry, uh. I’m just a little surprised.”
“By what?”
“I honestly didn’t think you’d get your head out of your ass this soon.”
Cas bristled slightly at the comment. “That’s not helping.”
“Yes, sorry." Gabe murmured sheepishly. "What did he say?”
“A-at first he didn’t say anything…”
“But?”
Cas shook his head, willing away tears that threatened to sting his eyes again. “But now he’s decided to tell me he doesn’t feel the same—he never did, and that he wants me to move back to New York.”
“Okay, moving past the absolute idiocy of that him saying he doesn’t love you—why on Earth did he tell you to move back to New York?”
“I got a job offer.”
Gabriel laughed. “Oh? Well that definitely doesn't reek of mom and dad’s doing.” A beat, then, “n-not to insult your skills, Cassie. I’m sure you’re very capable of landing a job anywhere, but, y’know…”
“I do know,” Castiel sighed.
“Are you actually considering it?”
“I wasn’t really…but I didn’t want to say no just in case something happened between Dean and I and…”
“And you needed to run,” Gabe finished for him.
Cas’s face turned red, he was glad his brother couldn’t see.
“So, why did you tell him?”
“I thought he should know. And maybe I was foolishly hoping it would…make him more receptive to my confession.”
“And did it?”
“No.” Cas let out a small, bitter laugh. “In fact, I think it might have made it worse.”
Gabe hummed, a gentle prompt to go on.
“He used it as an excuse to say that I deserve better than him. He said that I wouldn’t want him because he doesn’t ‘have anything to offer” in comparison to anyone I could have there.”
“Well, clearly he’s never been.”
Cas made a confirming noise. “And I know—I just know he feels the same—”
“No shit—”
“But I can’t get him to admit it. Nothing I do is enough…”
In the silence that followed, Castiel assumed Gabriel was searching for something comforting to say—maybe a way to lift his spirits or insist that Dean just needed more time.
So he was caught off guard when Gabriel finally spoke, voice firm:
“Take the job then.”
“W-what?”
“I mean…I don’t love the idea of you ditching town and letting Dean wallow in his own self-righteous misery without a daily reminder of what he fucked up.” Gabe paused. “But for your own sake I think it wouldn’t be bad.”
“Gabe, I’m not moving my whole life just because—”
“Isn’t there like a probationary period? Trial run kind of thing?”
“I…yes, three weeks.”
“There you go. Take the three weeks. Use it to clear your head, get some space—eat a proper bagel, of course—and rest.”
Castiel huffed softly through his nose.
“And,” Gabe added, “if what Dean needs is a little reality check, then seeing that he lost the best thing he ever had might be what finally knocks some sense into him.”
Cas didn’t answer right away. After a few seconds, he nodded to himself. “I’ll think about it.”
“Attaboy.” Gabe sounded pleased. “And hey, if you do end up taking a trip back home, let me know. I’ve been meaning to visit, but it’d be much more entertaining dragging you along with me.”
“Will do,” Castiel said, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly. “Goodnight, Gabriel.”
“N’night, Cassie.”
When the line went quiet, Castiel released a deep breath.
Although he still didn’t feel great, talking with Gabriel had helped some.
Hearing his brother's voice was comforting—for once—and his advice was…actually not terrible.
In fact, the more Castiel pondered it, the more he felt it actually might be a good idea. It’s not like he wanted to test Dean, or force him into changing his mind, but if Dean really did love Cas the way Cas loved him, then this would at least prove something, right?
Not to mention, Castiel really did need a break—time away to clear his head. Of course, he’d probably have to deal with his family in some shape or form, but at least it would be a different set of challenges from his current situation.
And if Dean did nothing about Cas leaving, then, it probably just wasn’t meant to be.
Before he could second-guess himself, Castiel unlocked his phone and scrolled through his past calls, pressing on the contact from that night a few weeks ago.
It rang several times. And then—
“Good evening, Dr. Novak.”
Notes:
** TW's: medical emergency of a family member **
So, I know I don’t owe an explanation for why I've taken so many hiatuses but I wanted to clarify some things anyway. I have obviously been working on this story for a while now, and something that I have recently realized is that I am unhappy with my writing in this fic. I’ve worked on a few other fics (some I have posted and some I haven’t) to help stretch my writing muscles, which I do think has helped me grow a lot in my abilities. However, because of this, looking back on this fic has been very demotivating. Not only because I did not outline the plot as well as I should have—and therefore made plot points drag out too long—but also, my writing in general has simply not been up to my standards. Don’t worry! I am not abandoning this fic. I said I would see it through and so I will. BUT, I will be going back and revising a few things, while simultaneously continuing to write the rest of the chapters. I hope to finish before the year is over (or sooner!) but we will have to see. Hopefully, then I can move on to other projects (still destiel, don’t worry) that I have been planning.
Thank you to anyone who read this whole ramble haha, and as always, thank you for reading! I appreciate you guys!
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