Chapter Text
“Move over, you jerk,” Sam grumbles as he elbows Dean.
“You move over, bitch,” Dean responds with a smile. He digs an elbow into Sam’s ribs, causing his brother to bark out a laugh and squirm. Sam has always been so ticklish. Dean’d probably sit on him and torture him if they weren’t in a serious race of Mario Kart.
“Hey, that’s cheating,” whines Sam, flipping his shaggy hair out of his eyes and focusing back on the game. Dean grins fondly and takes a sip of his Mt Dew code red. Ugh, that shit is nasty, but it’s what Sam drinks, so Dean is happy to choke it down.
It’s Thursday and Dean’s been having a great week at home for the first time in a long while. His mom is busy making a pie, his dad will be home from the shop in an hour, and Sam and Dean are sitting on the floor of the living room having a blast playing video games and eating whatever junk food they can sneak out of the kitchen.
It’s been great. Dean hasn’t had to think about Cas all week (aside from maybe once or twice in the shower). He’s gotten most of his assignments from his professors online, and he has saved up all his excused absences for the semester, so he won’t be penalized for missing a few classes. He and dad gave Baby a tune-up down at the shop- it was great to see Uncle Bobby and Rufus all week- and Dad even let him work on the ‘88 Ford Bronco he’s restoring. There was a lot of good-natured bickering about Ford versus Chevy in the shop, and Dean wishes, not for the first time, that he could just drop out of school and work at the shop full time. But dad won’t have that. Dean worked really hard to get the scholarship he’s on, and dad wants him to be the first Winchester with a college degree. He’d gladly bestow that honor on Sam if he could- the kid is a straight genius- but Dean knows it’s important to his folks, so he’ll hang in there a little longer. Bobby has mentioned twice this week that maybe Dean could take over the business when the old guys retire. By the time they got married, Bobby and Rufus were too old and grumpy to start a family, so Sam and Dean had received the privilege of their tough love and guidance. It was really like having three dads, which was annoying as fuck, but Dean wouldn’t trade it for the world.
John walks in the door at 5:15 on the dot. “Hey, Mary, dear god what is that smell?” He has his nose in the air, taking in deep breaths of cinnamon, nutmeg, and Granny Smith apples. It’s overpowered the scent of the lasagna Mary has cooling on the counter- but Dean is equally excited about both. When Mom feels like it, she’s like a damn gourmet in the kitchen. Dean thinks it must be a special occasion or something- she doesn’t break out the big guns for no reason. She must have sold a sculpture and is going to announce it at dinner. Dean hopes it’s at one of those fancy galleries in New York City- his parents have always wanted an excuse to go on vacation there. John would endure hours and hours of museum and gallery tours just to make his wife happy. He was a good husband. Dean always pictured himself with a relationship like his parent’s, and he felt that he ever actually fell in love, he would be as devoted to his wife as his Dad is.
Or husband, his traitorous brain supplied. Shut up, brain.
He’s done well to not mope around thinking about Cas for most of the week. His Mom can tell something is wrong, though. She’s already tried to talk to him about it a few times, but the most he’s told her is that he and Lisa called it quits. The last thing he wants to talk about is his stupid crush on one of his bros. It’s not like family would care it’s a guy, he just wants to forget the whole thing ever happened. Maybe things will go back to normal by Saturday.
He has a couple of messages from Benny on his phone. He hasn’t listened to them yet- he has suspicion that it’s either Benny’s pity or Cas trying to apologize and clear his conscience for treating Dean like some one night stand he met at a bar. Dean won’t give him the satisfaction. He hopes Cas feels guilty about it. He hopes Cas fucking feels like the piece of shit he is, and keeps his mouth shut about it. The last thing he needs is the bros to tease him about catching feelings.
Or maybe Cas has already found someone else. Maybe he and Meg have gotten back together. Jealousy hits Dean’s gut and Sam pulls ahead in the game.
“Ha ha, you fucker!” Sam yells as he crosses the finish line.
“Sam, language!” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Get washed up, it’s time to eat.”
Dean grabs Sam in a headlock and drags him to the hall bathroom while he flails and protests. The kid is already taller than him- and by the gangly look of him, he’ll be taller before he graduates high school next year.
They sit down for dinner and dad leads them in the usual grace where he blesses the food, and prays for the grumpy assholes Bobby and Rufus. Mom kicks him under the table for swearing and they giggle at each other. Sam makes his usual gagging noise at their affection, but Dean just feels sad.
Mom pulls the plates off the table when everyone is thoroughly stuffed. Still room for pie, Dean thinks happily, waiting for her to pull out the small plates. But instead she sits back down at the table and folds her hands together. It doesn’t look like she has a happy announcement, it looks like someone’s about to get a lecture. Dean looks at his Dad and Sam, but they don’t look surprised and they don’t meet his eyes.
Oh, crap.
“Dean,” Mom starts, leveling him with one of her looks. “We need to talk about why you’re hiding out here.”
“I’m not hiding out, can’t a guy just come and visit his fam-”
Mary holds up a hand to stop him. Dean snaps his mouth shut and slumps. Mom’s too smart for that.
“Sweetie, it’s not like you to run away from a problem, you’re too much like your father to do that- stubborn as a mule and will plow through anything.”
“Hey!” John protests. Mary gives him a look, and he smirks back at her.
“Now I know you- and the last time you hid out from the world was when your little friend Cassie broke up with you in 7th grade.”
“She didn’t break up with me!” Dean protests too quickly. “She was moving away- and we, um, we weren’t like that,” he finished weakly.
“I know, Dean,” his mom said kindly, “but I know how you are when it comes to your heart.”
Dean’s face flushes deeply and he looks down. Sam is looking at him curiously, but he still doesn’t seem surprised.
“I’ve been ambushed,” Dean grumbles.
“It’s ‘cause we care, buddy,” John offers, “and ‘cause your eating all the food in the house and need to go back to campus.”
Mary shoots him a look, and he just grins at her. Sam snorts back a laugh, but stays quiet otherwise.
Dean waits for the inevitable, “are you having girl problems” question.
“I said I wouldn’t tell you, but a nice boy came by the house looking for you yesterday, Dean.”
Dean’s head snaps up and his jaw drops as he stares back at his Mom. He reigns himself in and a mask of indifference slips onto his face. He stamps down the feeling of hope and clears his throat.
“Yeah, what did he want?” he asks grimly.
“Just wanted to talk to you. You were out with Sam, and he asked me if he could speak with you. Very polite boy, very handsome too. Prettiest blue eyes I’ve seen in a long time.”
John makes a noise of protest, and she winks at him.
“Yeah, well he can take his pretty blue eyes and shove ‘em up his a-ah…” Dean cuts himself off, not meaning to swear at his Mom. She arches an eyebrow at him. Sam chokes on a laugh and Dean shoots him a glare.
“Look, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but he looked simply heartbroken, and I just want to say- shh Dean, I’m not done- I just want to say that the Dean Winchester I raised won’t leave him hanging. The Dean Winchester I raised will let that boy down easily, or apologize if needed.”
Dean sank further in his chair. “It’s not like that, mom, he- uh, he wants to let me down easy.”
He feels a flood of embarrassment to talk about his feeling in front of his whole family. He knows Sam’s gonna mess with him about it. But when he sneaks a look at his brother, Sam is frowning and looks pissed. Huh, who’da thunk it? Maybe he should set Sam loose on Cas. He looks like he would kick someone’s ass for Dean right now.
“Oh, Dean,” his Mom says sadly, “I’m so sorry. Have you been avoiding him? Avoiding the conversation?”
To Dean’s absolute horror, a tear sneaks out of his eye. He nods his head.
“He’s an APE. We’re in the same house- we-” he stops himself from stupidly saying they’ve been smoking a lot of pot together. “We’ve been hanging out a lot, and I don’t know, I didn’t mean to cause drama in the house, but…”
Mary nods sagely. “I see. Well you have to go back and face the music, sweetie. Because your dad’s right, you’re eating us out of house and home.”
Dean smiles a little at his mom and she winks at him.
“Can I just stay here until Saturday? I don’t have classes tomorrow and was planning to come to the shop to earn some extra cash anyway.”
Mary looks at John and he nods.
“Okay, sweetie, that’s fine, but only until Saturday morning. Don’t you guys have fraternity galas or whatever you do on Saturdays?”
Dean rolls his eyes and smiles bigger. Mom always makes him feel better. “Yeah we’re hosting a garden party, mom. Black tie with mint juleps on the veranda. The croquet match is gonna get rowdy.”
“That means kegger,” Sam smirks and Dean kicks him under the table. “Ow!”
John laughs, his smile stretches across his face. “Yeah I remember going to a party or two on campus when I was your age.”
“Did you have a designated driver to drive your dinosaur home?” pipes up Sam.
Dean watches as Sam and his Dad throw snarky comments back and forth as Mom gets pie ready. He loves his family. He feels a lot better and thinks he’ll be able to face Cas and the other bros on Saturday.
Maybe.
********
Dean drains his third beer and leans against the bannister. Lisa is perched next to him on the stairs, lighting up a joint, and they are absolutely not spying on Cas and Victor who are on couches in the living room drinking and loading Bongzilla. Dean cracks his fourth beer, well aware that drinking like this and smoking will fuck him up hazardously, but he really couldn’t give any less fucks right now. Lisa passes him the joint.
“Anyway,” she says on the exhale, “I’m switching my major to psychology. I think it might be a tad more practical than philosophy. Dean. Dean!”
“Huh?” he says. “I was listening, I’m just, you know-”
“Pining over Cas like a 15 years old?”
“Shhhh!” He says a bit too loudly, “a bit louder, there’s some cheerleaders in the backyard who didn’t quite catch that.” Ugh, the weed is really strong. Or maybe it’s cause he hasn’t smoked all week and his tolerance is way low. He should pace himself.
He watches as Victor takes a pull on Bongzilla and it hits Dean. He snorts and spits his beer half back into the bottle and half on his shirt.
“Oh my god,” he leans into Lisa, “holy shit, I didn’t tell you-” he lowers his voice so she has to lean closer. “Cas, um, when we were- you know- he got jizz on Bongzilla, and there-”
He dissolves into giggles as Lisa shrieks with laughter. All heads on the couch turn to them which makes them laugh harder.
“Stop it,” Lisa chokes out, “I’m gonna pee on myself- stop!”
Cas has a slight frown on his face, his eyes piercing almost through Dean. Dean can’t help but look at the bong in his hands and back at Cas’s face. A slow look of horror comes over Cas’s as he clearly realizes what they’re laughing about. His face is bright red as he stands quickly, staggering for a minute as he walks briskly by the stairs and through the kitchen to presumably go up the back stairs.
“Serves him right,” mumbles Dean, feeling a pang of guilt for having told Lisa the intimate detail. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Lisa grabs his fist before he can bang it into his forehead again. She looks at him with sympathy. “Do you want me to talk to him for you?”
“No,” Dean says miserably, “but you can hand me another beer.”
“Thinking about cutting you off, Winchester,” she says with concern, gently taking the joint from his fingers and taking a hit.
“Maybe you’re right,” Dean says, shaking himself off, “I’m gonna-”
Cas passes the stairs again, looking straight forward with his mouth set in a firm line. Dean forgets what he’s trying to say. Cas packs the bowl of his glass pipe and hands it to Benny to light. He scowls and sinks back into the couch. Dean wants to go to him and kiss that scowl away. Wants to scoop him up and say he’s sorry and he didn’t mean it and can they maybe hang out again?
“Lisa, stop me, I want to go over there,” Dean mutters to her.
“Oh god no, Dean you’re wasted, bad idea.”
“Pffft. Pshhht. Pffftshhht,” after the third dismissive noise he makes, he realizes he is pretty high. He giggles and snorts. Lisa rolls her eyes and looks back at the group on the couch and Dean doesn’t miss the longing in her eyes as she looks at Victor. Victor glances over at them and she looks down at her fingernails. Victor looks away and she peeks at him through her eyelashes.
“Dean, quit looking back and forth at us, you look like you’re watching a tennis match. He’s gonna see.”
Dean snorts. “Maybe you should just talk to him. Tell him we broke up. Tell him you miss him. Tell him you want the D.”
She elbows him and makes a noise of protest. “You’re one to talk. You tell Cas we broke up?”
He shrugs. “I figured you’d tell everyone. I thought it’d be common knowledge by now.”
“Well, probably, since I told Becky the other night and that girl can’t keep her damn mouth shut.” Lisa tosses the nub of the roach in an empty beer bottle. “To be honest, i told her so I wouldn’t have to tell anyone else. Useful sometimes.”
“Why don’t you tell her to tell Victor that you want the D?”
“Shut yer hole, Dean. Besides. I don’t think he’s interested anyway.”
Dean looks at her closely. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
She shrugs. “Well, yeah.”
“Dude, no. He wants you back. You should talk to him, take him by the hand, blow gently in his ear, or blow him in the bathroom, whatever you chicks do that turn us guys into love-sick puppies.”
She laughs, throwing her head back. “Okay, first of all, what? That’s ridiculous. It’s handjob behind the dumpster.”
“Rim job in an alleyway?” Dean says with a grin.
“Bukkake in the campus cafeteria?” She volleys back.
“Dirty Sanchez on a city bus?”
“Oklahoma Chicken Hat on the hood of a Ford Taurus?”
Dean wrinkles his nose. “A Taurus? Okay, now that’s disgusting. How dare.”
Lisa is coughing with laughter and Dean thumps her on the back. Lisa is such a cool chick. Too bad she’s not the one. His eyes dart back over to Cas who’s looking straight forward at the wall with a small frown. Dean sighs.
“Wait-” Dean turns back to Lisa, “What’s an Oklahoma Chicken Hat?”
Lisa bursts into giggles. “I have no idea, I just made that up.”
Dean joins her giggling. “Well it sounds disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself. Nice girl like you. You’ll never be a debutante now.”
Lisa’s looking at Victor again. Benny is leaning over to him and talking lowly in his ear. Victor looks up, and catches Dean’s eyes. Dean gives him a small smile and tips his head toward Lisa and raises his eyebrows. Vic furrows his brows, then raises them, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Lisa narrows her eyes at Dean. “What was that?”
“Benny just told Vic that we broke up, Vic asked me if it was true, and I confirmed it, and now Victor is gonna come over her and offer to get you a drink.’
She rolls her eyes. “You guys and you bro secret code. You guys are such dorks.”
Dean can see the flush on her cheeks. He dramatically grabs her arm. “Go to him, Lisa, go to him before it’s too late. Before you end up an old maid like me.” He throws the back of his hand gracefully across his forehead and gets her giggling again, her eyes never really leaving Victor. He marvels at how she looks at him. She’s never looked at Dean that way.
Lisa stands up as Victor leaves the couches and heads to where they’re seated. Lisa pats Dean’s hand absently. “Dean, sweetie, you should take your own advice and go talk to him. You don’t run away from shit, why start now?”
“Ugh, you sound like my mom,” Dean whines.
“Well, I don’t know if I should feel weird about that… No, definitely feel honored. She’s a badass.”
With that, she takes the steps slowly, meeting Victor at the bottom. Dean doesn’t hear what they say to each other in the din of the party, but they smile at each other and head to the kitchen.
Dean’s alone with his thoughts for a moment. He’s aware that he’s got his face resting on his palm and leaning on the bannister, staring at Cas, probably looking like a lovelorn Victorian virgin, but he couldn’t give a shit if he tried. He was definitely too drunk for that.
He is about ¾ of the way to standing up and drunkenly sitting in Cas’s lap and begging for some D himself, when Meg walks in. Dean tenses up and watches with growing terror as she casually strolls over to Cas, and in some cruel twist of fate, sits down in his lap. Cas’s arms go up around her automatically and she smiles that stupid enigmatic smile at him and Dean wants to vomit. Cas and her have some sort of exchange and he smiles at her. Fucking smiles at her. Dean grits his teeth at the pain in his chest. Meg leans in and whispers in Cas’s ear and Cas’s lazer blue eyes flick over and meet Dean’s gaze.
Dean really feels like he’s going to puke. He jumps up way to quickly, knocking over the line of beer bottles on the step behind him and slips as he tries to jump over them. Real smooth, Winchester, he grimaces as he regains his balance and runs up the rest of the stairs, two at a time.
He barely makes it to the bathroom in time. He knew he should have eaten more today. He threw up beer and bile, retching a few more times before blindly reaching for the toilet handle and flushing. He sags back against the wall and slides to the ground. He feels pretty fucked up. The walls are breathing around him and the floor seems to be floating around waist level. The door’s open, but he’s too weak to stand up and close it.
“Dean?”
Oh fucking fuck.
Cas peeks his head and in looks down at where Dean is slumped on the floor. He can’t help but smile weakly up at Cas.
“Hey, Cas, nice weather we’re having.” It’s stupid, but Dean feels pretty stupid right now.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” grumbles Cas as he sinks to the floor by Dean and checks his eyes and grabs his wrist to checks his pulse. “Dean did you take anything?”
“Pffft. No! I’m good. I’m fine. Just enjoying the nice weather we’re having. In the bathroom. On the floor.” Dean breaks out into giggles.
Cas huffs, biting down on a smile (just smile for me, Cas) and rolls his eyes. “Wow, dude I have never seen you so wasted. This is just beer and weed?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t smoked since-” Dean snaps his mouth shut then shrugs. Fuck it. “Since you fucked me and fucked off. No big deal.”
Cas’s mouth turns down. “I don’t think this is the time to have this conversation, Dean.”
Dean sneers. “So when exactly would be a good time, Cas?”
“Oh fucking...- Dean! I have been trying to get ahold of you all week! Don’t even- You know what? Fuck you. You left. You left and didn’t say anything.” Cas turns on his heel, about to leave.
“I heard you.” Dean mumbles. Cas freezes but doesn’t turn.
“Heard what?”
“I heard you talking to Benny about me. That’s fucked up, Cas.”
Cas turns, eyes flashing. “What’s fucked up is you and Lisa laughing at me. Laughing about the night we- Never mind. Just forget it. Forget it even happened. You don’t care. It was just a fucking experiment for you, Dean. Now you can say you’ve had sex with a dude. Good for you.”
He stomps out the door and doesn’t look back even when Dean shouts his name a few times. He wishes he wasn’t so high. He wishes he could tell Cas he was wrong. He wishes he could tell Cas that it was the best sex he’d ever had, that it had felt like more than sex. That he wanted Cas, wanted him so badly. That he fucked up and shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. That he was sorry.
Dean hiccuped. He stared at the toilet and considers throwing up again. But there’s nothing left in his stomach. He grips the edge of the bathtub and pulls himself to stand. Swaying a little, he checks his shirt for vomit and brushes his teeth. He’s glad this didn’t happen to him at a party somewhere else. Now he can just go crash in his bed and hide until morning.
He carefully makes his way out of the bathroom, blinking slowly. The floor shouldn’t be moving this much.
“Oh, hell.”
The spins hit Dean quite suddenly. He just goes ahead and sits down in the hallway, knowing that it’s preferable to falling over like the last time this happened. He stretches out, facing down on the floor, trying to keep the world from flying off its axis. He feels like shit.
“Hey Dean-o, what’s shakin?”
Dean groans. Meg. Like he needs shit from her right now. “Go away, Meg.”
She huffs and sits next to his head so he can see her out of one eye. The other eye is closed so he only sees one of everything.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t like me.”
Dean snorts. “Meh mee mee meh mee mehmeh, mee muh muh mee mee,” he mimics her.
She smirks but it isn’t unfriendly. “I wouldn’t be here but Cas asked me to check on you. You’ve been a real dick to him, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dean moans, not even trying to deny it at this point. “I fucked up. I thought...I thought…” Dean slowly rolls over so he can see her better. “I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that he didn’t care about me. That he didn’t want me.” He closes his eyes. “But why am I telling you? You don’t give a fuck about him.”
“Hey now, you know that’s not true,” she says smoothly, not bothered by his accusation, “Clarence and I had a fucked up relationship, and yes, I did fuck around on him, but it’s been two years. He forgave me long ago.”
“Whatever, that was...really? It’s already been two years? Huh.” Dean kinda feels like an ass. He’s holding something against a girl he barely knows based on some shit she did two years ago to a guy he was hardly friends with at the time. “I’m an ass. Sorry.”
“It’s cool, Dean-o. I know how protective you bros are of each other’s little tissue-paper feelings. I appreciate such loyalty.”
Dean sighs. “Holy fuck, I’m thirsty.”
“Oh, whoops, I was supposed to give you this.” She holds up a Gatorade where he can see it.
He groans and grabs for it. “Why didn’t you lead with that, I’m dying over here!”
She holds the drink out of his reach. “No. Not until you promise to make nice with Clarence. I don’t like seeing him like this. Now promise.” She waggles the blue bottle in front of him.
“Fine, I’ll go, just gimme.” He snatches the bottle and props himself up and winces as he takes a big gulp. The cold feels good going down. “Is he downstairs?”
“Naw, he’s hiding out in his room now.”
Dean realizes he is basically spread out on the floor in front of Cas’s door. Oops. If he wasn’t so blazed, he might have noticed the faint smell of Cas floating out from under his door. There’s a low sound of the tv coming from inside the room, and a monumentally dumb part of Dean feels jealous of the porn people from the 90’s that Cas might possibly be watching right now. Stupid.
“Okay. Thanks, Meg. You’re alright.”
“High praise, coming from a bro such as yourself, Dean-o,” she says, rolling her eyes as she stands. She grabs his arms and stands him up. He’s feeling better. Ish.
“Well, don’t let it go to your head,” he says absently, his eyes trying to x-ray through the door to see inside.
Meg is already laughing and walking back down the hall. “Go get ‘em tiger,” she calls back over her shoulder, but he’s not able to hear her. Blood is rushing through his ears as he hold his hand up to knock. He pauses.
The door swings open before he can knock.
“Are you just going to stand outside my door breathing heavily, or are you going to come in?”
Dean’s too stunned for a second to answer. Cas is already making his way over to the couch, leaving Dean standing in the doorway with his hand still stupidly in the air. He collects himself and steps through the door, half expecting an Indiana Jones-style booby trap to be sprung. This can’t be possibly this easy. It has to be a trap.
“Dean,” Cas growls from the couch, “are you coming in are aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Dean mumbles and closes the door behind himself, locking it. He sighs gratefully as poison arrows don’t shoot out from the walls or a giant rock doesn’t roll over him. He flops down on his side of the couch. Not looking at Cas.
“Dean-”
“You know what, Cas? Is it okay if I go first?” He looks sheepishly at Cas. He gets a nod.
“Yeah, so I overheard you talking to Benny and I was sure he was telling you how to let me down gently, or whatever, and you left me to go downstairs to the meeting without a word, or even a note-”
“Did you look for a note?” Cas interrupts.
“What? No, I…” Dean feels like an asshole as Cas holds up a piece of paper that’s sitting on the coffee table directly in front of Dean. He hands it to him and sits back with his arms folded, looking a little insecure.
Dean furrows his brows- he’s never seen Cas like this. It’s making his chest hurt. He reads the note.
“Hey Dean, I went ahead to the meeting- I’ll tell Michael I banged you into oblivion lol jk, I’m sure that he’d have a heart attack and that would count as fratricide and it’s a pain in the ass to get rid of a body :) You look so cute when you’re asleep xoxo, Cas.”
Dean stares at the note. “I didn’t see it.” He mumbles.
“I left it under the bottle of water I left out for you.”
Dean couldn’t possibly feel any worse. “I’m an idiot.”
“It’s whatever, bro,” Cas says coolly, “I guess I just assumed...but I guess not. It’s whatever,” he repeats. Cas is loading Bongzilla as Dean takes this in.
“I mean I’m an idiot not for the note- well, yeah for the note- but like also for thinking that- well, you know, I just thought. I mean. Arg! My brain and mouth aren’t on speaking terms right now.”
Cas shrugs and hands Dean the bong, with a challenging look in his eye. Dean accepts and runs his hands over the glass. It’s clearly been cleaned since the volcanic ejaculation event, but Dean remembers the spot when Cas’s come hit and runs his finger over it, remembering. His dick gives a twitch.
“Not now, you son of a bitch,” Dean mutters.
“What?” Cas asks.
“What?” repeats Dean. He looks back at his lap. “Oh, um, I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to my dick, okay I just heard that come out of my mouth, I know I’m a crazy person. Look, I’m sorry I told Lisa about the come on the bong thing- I only told her that some got on there, not how specifically it got on there- it was just really funny the other bros were smoking out of it… Well we were really baked and it was funny at the time.” He looks up at Cas through his lashes.
Cas is smiling the little smile with half of his mouth. Progress.
“Cas, I’m really sorry. I think...I think I really just got scared. I…” Dean pauses, and thinks fuck it might as well put all my cards on the table.
“I really like you. I don’t know, it felt… it feels like something more than just two bros getting off on the couch to some porn, you know? I really...I don’t know, can I make it up to you?”
Cas has a funny look on his face. “Is the door locked?”
Dean nods, blood rushing to different parts of his body. Pavlovian response, my ass.
Cas opens a smaller drawer in the magic coffee table and pulls out a pink gift bag. He hands it to Dean slowly, their eyes locking. Dean’s heart is pounding. He takes the bag and opens it, slipping his hand in to snag the swatch of black in the bottom. Dear god, is that? Dean pulls out an expensive pair of black lacy panites in his size. He hold them aloft, lips parted in amazement. He looks back at Cas who now has an adorable smile and pink cheeks. Damn I’ve got it bad.
“I was at the mall with my sister Anna, kind of whining about this guy who broke my heart, and I saw these in the Victoria’s Secret window. Even though we weren’t speaking, I still...I still thought maybe… If I could track you down, I could give you a gift. Something to replace the pink ones.”
Dean blinks. “Where are the pink ones?”
A grin breaks out on Cas’s face. “Yeah, you’re never getting those back. Those are mine now.”
Dean bites his lower lip and squirms as a wave of heat passes through him and his dick stands at full attention. “Fucking Christ, Cas, you can’t just say things like that.”
“You want to make it up to me, Dean?”
Dean nods enthusiastically.
“Put those on for me. I want to see you in them. Then you can go, if you want. Or...we can smoke Bongzilla there and see what happens.”
“Do you want me to change in the bathroom, or…?”
“Right here, Dean. I wanna see.”
Dean can’t help the moan that passes through his lips. He watches Cas adjust his pants, his dick outlined in his jeans.
Dean stands and yanks his t shirt off over his head. He flexes, glad that he and Sam had worked out a bit this week, and his hours at the shop showed in his arms. Cas licks his lips as his eyes roam over Dean’s chest.
Dean pauses with his hand on his fly, ready to unzip. “Are you just gonna to watch or are you gonna touch yourself?”
Cas’s eyebrow arches and he squeezes his dick in answer, then slides his zipper down when Dean does. Cas gasps in relief when he pulls his cock from it’s tight confines. Dean watches hungrily as he strokes it a few times, then pulls his jeans down. Dean nearly forgets what he’s doing. Cas is getting naked on the couch, and Dean needs to catch up. He toes off his shoes and pulls his pants and underwear down, pulling his socks off with them. When he stands back up, Cas is sitting sideways on the couch, one knee pulled up and leaning while the other remains on the floor. He’s lounging back against Dean’s pillow on the armrest and he has the lube in hand, squirting out a palmful. Dean’s dick jumps at the sight, and he mentally high-fives it for getting it right for once.
Dean takes the panties and rubs his fingers over the fabric. It’s silk, not the cheap nylon, and he can’t wait to feel it’s slickness on his cock. He carefully slowly steps into them and slides them up his legs. He bites his lip and watches Cas’s face while he does this.
Cas is magnificent. His hand is working steadily over his cock, his other hand working his balls. A full body flush is spread over him, his eyes dark with lust, and his wet lips parted and gasping. Dean resists the urge to sink to his knees and suck Cas’s dick as an apology, and continues the panties acent to cover his cock. It takes a lot of careful tucking- he’s never put panties on while fully hard- but he manages and the result is amazing. They feel so damn sexy. Dean’s cock dribbles a little on the waistband where its head is peeking out. Cas sees and moans. Dean watches, chills wracking his body as Cas slips a finger into himself, and begins pumping in and out almost forcefully. Dean tears his eyes away so he can slowly turn and show Cas the thong resting along the crack of his ass. He kneels on the couch and rests his arms on the opposite armrest, so Cas can see all of it. Cas makes a desperate noise. Dean looks back over his shoulder, rubbing himself with on hand and rocking slowly, spreading his knees further apart.
Cas looks like he’s about to come, his body lifting slightly off the couch with the tension. Dean needs to do something that will tip him over the edge, and it comes to him. He runs his fingers back between his legs and pulls the thong aside, baring his ass, fully exposed, to Cas’s widening eyes. Cas pants and moans, his fist flying over his cock, his finger twisting deeper, as Dean pushes his ass higher in the air and wiggles it sightly. He watches Cas over his shoulder and runs his finger along over his hole, causing it to clench and throb. Cas lets out a high-pitched whine and comes, shooting out his load in Dean’s direction, moaning Dean’s name and arching up into his hand. Dean feels a streak of come hit the back of his thigh, hot and wet. Cas is laying back, chest heaving, watching Dean in awe. Dean reaches down and runs his finger through the cooling come and brings it to his mouth, licking and sucking his finger and staring straight into Cas’s eyes.
Cas leaps forward, grasping the globes of Dean’s ass and squeezing, hard. Dean lets out a wanton, needy noise, pushing back against Cas’s hands. He buries his face in his arms on the armrest and spreads his legs a bit wider. He feels Cas run single finger along the thong and pull it aside. Dean gasps in surprise when the tip of Cas’s tongue makes contact with his hole.
Goddamn.
Dean’s never felt anything like it. Sure he’s thought about it, but he’s never slept with anyone that he even think of asking to try it. Cas runs the tip of his tongue in a slow circle around Dean’s hole, pushing against the ring of muscle, gripping Dean’s ass to keep him from thrusting back too hard. Cas swirls his tongue a few more times, then licks a wide stripe up the crack, moaning against Dean’s skin. Dean pulls one arm free and reaches down to squeeze his cock, pre-come dripping onto the couch cushions. Cas’s arm snakes around him and shoves a pillow, the pillow, under him, pushing Dean’s pelvis down so he can thrust against it. Cas shifts down too and continues to prod and lick in time with Dean’s thrusts.
Cas pushes his tongue in just a little bit. Dean calls his name out and thrusts back, driving his tongue deeper into his flexing hole. Cas moans and uses his thumbs to spread Dean’s cheeks further and starts tongue-fucking him in earnest. Dean’s pretty sure he’s gonna come from just this. It’s the hottest fucking this that’s ever happened to him. Black lace silk panties, face planted, ass in the air, while fucking a pillow that smells like Cas while aforementioned loosens his rim up with his tongue. Goddamn.
He feels the heat coiling low in his belly and can feel himself tensing up, ready to come when Cas pulls his tongue away and holds Dean’s hips still. Dean whines and wriggles his hips, trying to thrust both forward and backward.
“Do you trust me, Dean?”
“Yes!” Dean gasps, “do it, please, please!” He raises his head and looks back and locks eyes with Cas. He’s let go of Dean’s flank when he quits wiggling, and is stroking himself slowly, to full hardness again. Dean’s mouth waters at the sight. “Cas, come on, bro, don’t leave me hangin!” Dean tries to reach back and finger himself, pick up where Cas left off, but his hands is slapped away after he only managed to work in one finger. It slides in so easily- he whines for Cas, please, please, please...
Cas smirks wickedly. He’s pouring lube into his hand and Dean gasps as the cold of it runs over his hole. Cas pushes two fingers in, twisting and stretching. Dean thrusts back, this is taking too long, Dean feels like he could take the fat end of a baseball bat at this point- and he begs for more.
“You’ve been practicing,” Cas says casually, his voice deeper than usual, making Dean’s dick dribble out more pre-come into the pillow. Dean wants to tell Cas about all the times in the shower all week long, how many times he shoved fingers into himself, biting out Cas’s name as he came, but right now he’s too wound up to do anything but whimper.
Cas has three fingers in now, purposefully avoiding Dean’s prostate, twisting and finger-fucking him in time with Dean’s backward thrusts. He pulls them out and Dean whines, sweat shining and dripping off of him, feeling so hot that his skin is on fire everywhere Cas touches him. Cas pulls his hips back up so Dean is on his knees again, and pulls the panties down to his knees and leaves them there. Dean shutters as Cas pushes Dean’s thighs closer together and puts his own knees on the outside of Dean’s. It makes Dean’s hole press together, tighter. Cas rolls on a condom, slathering it with lube, and hikes one leg up and plants it on the couch, grasping Dean’s hips and rubbing his swollen and slick cock along Dean’s crack, teasing his hole. Dean feels like he is loosing his mind, how much making up does Cas need? Dean needs to come, and like soon.
Finally, oh god, finally, Cas presses the tip in slowly, groaning loudly as he breaches Dean, stretching him and causing Dean to lose all rational thought. The first stroke into Dean is slow and smooth. Tender even. The second is the same. The third, well, the third is hard enough for Cas’s hips to smack the back of Dean’s thighs. Dean shouts, “Yes!” and Cas sets a brutal pace, growling with every thrust, offset by every plea of Dean’s to go harder, deeper, fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckme…
Dean has been slowly pounded forward until they have moved enough for him to lean his torso over the armrest of the couch. He braces his hands on the floor, and lets the blood rush to his head. Cas changes his angle slightly and there, nails Dean’s prostate over and over, Dean’s voice high and reedy, calling out to Cas that’s he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming…
Dean’s cock swells and erupts, coming on the rough fabric of the armrest, his ass clamping down hard on Cas’s dick, causing him to cry out Dean’s name and thrust one more time, filling him with hot, molten liquid. Dean goes limp, heaving and struggling to get his breath under control. Cas leans down and is kissing Dean’s sweaty back. It feels good on his over-sensitive skin.
Cas pulls out with a groan, and Dean hears Cas roll off the condom and toss it, his face still hanging over the armrest. Cas leans away and brings back a soft towel, wiping Dean carefully. He murmurs for Dean to hang on, and he staggers to the bathroom and brings back a warm washcloth, repeating the same ritual as that first time. Cas wipes up Dean’s sweat and then his own, and tosses the washcloth and towel aside.
He wrangles Dean around until they are spooning on the couch. Dean sighs contentedly. “I’m going to feel that all week,” he says happily, snuggling down as Cas throws a blanket over them both.
Cas chuckles. “I should hope so. I was in so deep I think I bruised my balls. Just so you know, you’re not getting those panties back either.”
Dean grumbles in protest, but is actually pleased. Cas wants a reminder of that. So awesome.
Cas props himself up on his elbow behind Dean. He leans over him to grab the loaded bong, sees how he’s probably going to end up pouring the bong water on Dean, and fumbles around for a joint in the top drawer of the coffee table. Dean smiles lazily, the afterglow chemicals still flowing through him. Cas lights up and takes a large toke. He holds it to Dean’s lips and he takes a pull. Nice. Cas takes another hit and holds it, waiting until Dean turns to look up at him and then leans down close to his lips. Dean gets the idea and parts his lips, inhaling the smoke from Cas’s mouth as he exhales. It’s damn intimate, and Dean touches their lips together tentatively as he exhales, the sweet dense smoke clouding around them and Cas responds, licking Dean’s upper lip and then kissing him deeply. Dean’s dreamed of this kiss, of Cas’s mouth. The way he seems to worship Dean with those kisses. The words unsaid between them translating to stroking tongues and nipping teeth; soft breaths and gentle presses. He rolls until he’s under Cas, and Cas tosses the still burning joint into the ashtray. His arms go under Dean and Dean spreads his legs for Cas to rest between them. Their spent cocks nestle against each other, a little hard, maybe, but not in any hurry to fuck. Dean runs his hands through Cas’s silky black hair, scratching his fingernail gently over his scalp. The kisses are slow and passionate, personal and intimate. Dean’s hearts pounds harder than when Cas had him bent over the arm of the couch. Cas notices Dean’s elevated respiration and heart rate and pauses, Looking down at him.
“Are you okay?”
Dean nods, feeling the slight edge of panic coming on. He could make his excuses and go back to his room, but he bites the bullet and is going to say exactly what he’s thinking. He doesn’t end up needing to, though.
“I want to be with you, Dean. Like with you, with you. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve never wanted anyone like how much I want you.” He gulps and studies Dean’s face.
Dean blinks several times, and a slow smile spreads over his face. “Oh thank fucking Christ. I wasn’t for sure. Like I figured, since we kind of just, you know, banged it out on the sofa, you might not want anything else from me, and I was willing to give that to you, if that’s all you ever wanted from me. But I got like, feelings from all this. And, I don’t know, but I think I might be a little in love with you, bro.”
Cas’s face does this thing where he goes from anxious to shock then to absolute joy. His eyes flash in the dim light of the room. He dips down and kisses Dean- a long slow, deep kiss, one that leaves them panting when they finally break apart. Cas’s face hovers only an inch or two above Dean’s.
“I think I might be a little in love with you too, bro.”
Dean chuckles and pecks his lips. “I should hope so, I’m told I give really good head. Buy someone who’s an expert, too.”
Cas huffs out a laugh, in that way Dean loves, and dips in for another quick kiss.
“God, I’m starving,” Dean complains.
“Geez, why’d you have to say that, man. Now I’m starving. I’ll go downstairs and see if there’s anything left in the kitchen.” He hops up and covers Dean with the blanket again. Dean reaches out and pinches Cas’s butt as he leans over to pull his sweatpants on. Cas yelps and fake-glares at him and winks, and walks to the door to go downstairs. He opens the door and is met by a volley of cheers and catcalls and whistles. All the APE brothers plus Meg and Lisa are standing just outside the door applauding.
Cas turns bright red and Dean hides under the blanket, but it’s too late, phones are out and filming and taking pictures. When Dean dares to peek out, Cas glares at them and crosses his arms.
“Unless you have chips, beer, or snack cakes, you can all fuck right off.”
Benny grabs Cas around the neck and ruffles his hair. “Aw, Cas, is that any way to treat the welcoming committee?”
Cas cracks a smile, still trying to look mad. Meg strolls in the room and hands Dean a bag of weed, giving him a very self-satisfied smile. Lisa comes in breathless, just having run down to the kitchen to get whatever was lying around. Half a bag of hot Cheetos and a package of birthday cake Oreos. Eh, it’ll do.
“Okay now, it smells like sex in here, I’m out,” Lisa declares, wrinkling her nose and backing out of the room. “Congrats Dean and Cas, for pulling your heads out of your asses.” Dean smiles happily at her through a mouthful of Cheetos. She pauses and thinks over her words. “Yeah I heard it too, just shut up.”
Cas pushes the lookie loos out and shakes his head. Dean thinks Cas is so cute with his hair all messed up and blushing. He turns to Dean and Meg. “Well that was...something.”
Dean laughs and holds the blanket open for Cas to crawl back in.
“Are you naked under there, Dean?” Meg asks, leaning to get a better look.
“Bye Meg,” Cas says, scowling at her.
She throws her hands up in surrender and moves to leave. She turns just as she gets to the door. “You know, if you two ever want to-”
“BYE MEG,” Cas and Dean practically shout. She smirks and ducks out of the room, locking the door behind her.
“Why Meg?” Dean asks Cas, curiosity getting the best of him.
Cas snorts. “Her father’s a lawyer, a real slimeball, but he got me off a possession charge without my dad ever finding out. It’s like he has a deal with the devil or something. She still holds it over my head, but whatever, she’s alright, I guess. We were a terrible couple. I wasn’t really into sex with her. She was really kinky in the bedroom- she ended up sleeping with the guy she wanted me to have a threesome with.”
Dean feels a burn of jealousy in his gut. “You had a threesome with Meg and some dude?”
“No! God no, not into that. I mean, yeah it’s okay for Sheila, and whatnot, but I’m too…” Cas waves his hand around, looking for the right word.
“Jealous? Possessive? Territorial?”
Cas smirks. “Yeah, okay, maybe. Let’s just say I don’t like to share.”
Dean grins. “Good, cause I don’t either."
Cas tips his head slightly. "You and Lisa...what happened there? You guys seem, I don't know, like high school besties, not two people who just broke up."
Dean smiles at the pretty accurate description of how they were acting earlier. "Yeah, she's cool. But there is one major thing wrong with her."
"And what's that?"
"She's not you."
Cas blushes and kisses Dean's lips, sweet and tender.
Dean grinds his hips back a little into him, contemplating another go. Maybe in a minute. "Now let’s watch a movie- not a porn, but like one of the classics.”
“I gotchu, bro,” Cas says furtively, switching the tv to the vcr and hitting play. The opening sequence to The Princess Bride appears, and Dean has to suppress his inner 12-year-old girl from squealing. He looks up at his boyfriend? Bro-friend? Best-friend-that-he-loves-and-wants-to-have-sex-with-friend? and rolls his eyes.
“Nerd,” he says fondly, pulling Cas down to snuggle and watch his very favorite movie.