Full Summary: Twelve years ago, Dean Winchester underwent a life-changing surgery that completely turned his life around. He's stuck to the lifestyle changes, and he honestly never thought he'd get this far. He's got a job and lives on his own, he's healthy, and he looks pretty damn good, if he does say so himself. When he meets Castiel Novak, a chubby stoner in his mid-twenties, everything is perfect. But when Cas' lifestyle choices threaten everything Dean's worked so hard to achieve, he's faced with a difficult decision when he realizes that he still doesn't have as much control over himself as he thought he did.
Author's notes: So this is what happens when a fanfiction writer watches way too much My 600-Pound Life, and wonders how their food addiction still effects them years down the road, even after they've lost the weight. I think we all know that Dean's a huge foodie, and also displays addictive behavior (although canonically it's alcohol), so I honestly don't think that, in an AU, this is that far-fetched.
I wasn't sure how I felt about this idea when I first started writing it, but I've got about 4 other works started right now and, for some reason, this is the only one that's flowed. So I hope you guys like it, although there isn't as much of my usual angst (but there's definitely some). Please let me know what you think! I live off of your lovely reviews, and since I haven't been uploading anything, I'm dying :'( As usual, constructive criticism is highly encouraged, and you can find me on tumblr at casorderspizza
April
Dean had just taken a break from the vehicle he was working on, and was wiping off his hands on a shop rag, when Bobby's gruff voice came across the bay. "Dean, somebody up front."
"I got it." Dean tossed the cloth onto a workbench and rounded the corner into the lobby. "What can I do for you?"
The man looked up from his phone and piercing blue eyes met his. "Hi, I was just wondering if you guys had time for an oil change? But if you're busy, I understand. I can make an appointment to come back."
His voice was deep and low, and it almost seemed out of place considering how young he looked. Dean thought it maybe had something to do with the fact that he was carrying just a bit of extra weight, giving his face a slightly rounder appearance.
Dean realized he was staring and lowered his eyes, clearing his throat. "Uh, no. It's fine. I'm free."
The man smiled. "Great. Thanks." He reached down into his pocket, and Dean noticed he was wearing a worn Led Zeppelin shirt, a bit tight around his midsection. He held up the keys. "Here you go."
Dean took the keys from his outstretched hand. "I like your shirt."
The guy looked down, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing, then looked back up with a shy smile. "Thanks. I'm Cas, by the way."
"Dean. Give me about fifteen minutes."
Cas nodded. "Thank you. It's the seventy-eight Lincoln."
Dean returned his nod and walked out from behind the desk, past him, and out into the parking lot. He climbed into the Lincoln Continental, and as soon as he started it, Boston began playing from the speakers. He glanced down at the radio, and, seeing it was a cassette tape, gave an approving nod. The guy had good taste. He pulled the car around and into the bay and got to work.
When he finished, he re-entered the lobby, wiping his hands off on a rag and shoving it into his back pocket. He noticed his co-worker, Jo, leaning on the counter and talking to Cas, who was sitting down in one of the chairs and fiddling with his phone. Jo was clearly flirting with him, but he didn't seem interested.
"You harassing my customers, Jo?" Dean asked teasingly, coming up behind her to write up Cas' receipt. He tried to ignore the tendrils of jealousy creeping up into the back of his mind. Cas was just another customer; he had no right to feel jealous of anything.
"I wouldn't call it that," she said, leaning back from the counter and rolling her eyes.
Dean flicked his eyes over to Cas, who was smirking in his direction.
"Why don't you go make yourself useful somewhere, huh?" Dean mumbled.
Jo rolled her eyes again and walked out from behind the counter. "Bye, Cas," she said, waggling her fingers at him as she disappeared through the door.
"Sorry about that," Dean offered, leaning forward and scribbling out Cas' receipt. "You know teenagers."
He glanced up to see Cas was now standing on the other side of the counter. "It's alright." He paused as Dean looked back down at what he was writing. "I'm sure I would have been interested... if I was into women."
Dean's eyebrows shot up and he lifted his eyes. Cas had one elbow on the counter, his cheek leaning on his fist as he stared down at Dean, the fingers of his right hand tapping on the counter.
"Oh," Dean said quietly, straightening up. Their eyes locked for a moment, until Dean could feel his face warming. He looked down at the counter and cleared his throat, reaching for Cas' receipt. "Your total is twenty-nine seventeen," he said, placing it in front of Cas.
Cas didn't seem bothered by Dean's deflection, instead reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He opened it up and handed Dean a debit card. Once the transaction was finished and Dean gave him his card back, Cas pulled out a five and held it out. "That's for you."
"Oh, that's... that's not necessary," he said quietly, holding one hand up in a gesture of refusal.
"I insist," Cas said sternly. "You performed a service, and I always tip those in the service industry. It's customary."
Dean nodded and reached out to take the bill. "Thank you."
"Thank you, for fitting me in without notice," Cas said, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.
Dean nodded again, and they stood in awkward silence for a good sixty seconds before Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Do you, uh... need anything else?"
Cas cracked a grin, obviously amused by how flustered he was making Dean. "My keys?"
Dean huffed a laugh, reaching into his pocket for them. "Right. Sorry."
"It's quite alright," he said, reaching out and taking the keys from Dean. "Have a good one."
He turned around, and Dean looked towards the other door that led out to the bay. He could see Bobby's legs sticking out from beneath the hood of a Volvo, and Jo was nowhere to be seen. "Uh, wait," he said quickly, turning back to the front door.
Cas stopped with his hand on the door handle, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Dean. "Yes?"
"Uh..." Dean looked away and reached up to scratch the back of his neck, which was suddenly prickling with sweat. "I was wondering, if... maybe you want to, um..." He glanced up, letting his hand fall away from his neck to wipe his suddenly-clammy palm on his pants. "Go out some time? ...For a beer or something?"
Cas smiled. "Yeah." He backed away from the door and turned so he was standing at the counter again. "I'd like that."
Dean huffed a relieved sigh and gave him a nervous smile. "Awesome."
"Do you want my number?" Cas asked.
Dean nodded, looking down and scanning the desk for a scrap of paper. He found one and placed it on the upper portion of the counter in front of Cas, along with a pen. Cas picked it up and wrote down his name and number, before placing the pen back down and smiling at Dean. "Text me when you get off."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
Cas lingered for a second longer before turning and disappearing out the door. Dean pushed out a relieved sigh. It never failed to make him nervous asking people out, and he usually never did it at work, but he just couldn't let Cas walk out that door without asking.
It was Saturday, so he got off at one. He went home, his nerves building at the thought of texting Cas. Would he want to hang out tonight? He pushed his front door open and his chocolate lab, Floyd, jumped up from the couch to greet him.
"Hey, buddy," Dean cooed, reaching down to pat his head. "Wanna go outside?"
Floyd barked and trotted to the back door. Dean followed him and opened the door, and Floyd raced out into the backyard. Dean followed him, and after he did his business, he threw the ball for him for a few minutes.
They went back inside, and Floyd got a drink from his water bowl as Dean made a sandwich. He entered the nutrition information into his tracking app and sat down on the couch. Floyd jumped up and settled next to him as Dean flicked on the TV. He took two bites from his sandwich before setting the plate down on the coffee table and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He'd entered Cas' number as soon as Cas had walked out the door, and now he stared at his contact on the screen, his mind racing.
Finally he swallowed down his nervousness and pressed the text button.
Dean: hey, it's dean
He hit send and stared at the phone for a second before setting it down and picking his sandwich back up. He'd only taken two more bites before his phone went off again.
Cas: Hey :)
He found himself grinning like an idiot. Not only had he texted him back right away, but he'd included a smiley face. Dean knew he wasn't bad looking, at least not with clothes on, but the self-consciousness from childhood had never really gone away. He was still amazed whenever he managed to get a date. He remembered the days he was sure he'd die alone before he even hit thirty- and that wasn't an exaggeration, but a cold, hard fact.
Dean: when do you want to get together?
Cas: Whenever you want. I'm free tonight if that's not too soon.
Dean could feel his heart picking up the pace in his chest.
Dean: yeah, that's fine. have you ever been to the Roadhouse?
Cas: No. Do you want to go there?
Dean: yeah. they have food, too, so we can get dinner and have a beer.
Dean: if you want
Cas: That sounds fine.
Dean: want me to pick you up at 8?
Cas texted him back with his address and Dean told him he'd see him at eight. It was about a thirty minute drive, and it was only two-thirty, which left him with five hours to shower and get ready.
He sat around on the couch until five, then he took Floyd for an hour-long walk. He took a shower afterwards, and by six-thirty he was standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He dried himself off with the towel and let it fall to the floor. He stared at himself for a few minutes, tracing his fingers over the scars that ran along the underside of his pectoral muscles. It had been ten years, so they were thin and faded white these days, but they were still visible. He turned away from the mirror to get dressed before he got caught up in the rest of the scars. They were more than a fair trade for what he looked- and felt- like before, but they still made him sad, and a little angry. He wished he could go back and do it all over again, and never let himself get to that point- where he'd ruined his body beyond repair.
He went over to the dresser and got himself dressed in a dark red Henley and blue jeans. He glanced over towards the bed, where Floyd was staring at him and thumping his tail.
"I hope he likes dogs," Dean said, closing the drawer. He walked over and reached out a hand, rubbing Floyd's head. "'Cause you and me are a package deal."
When Dean pulled up in front of Cas' house, Cas was sitting on the front step. He quickly stood up and strode across the lawn, stepping down from the curb and pulling open the door. He slid down into the seat and smiled at Dean.
"Hello."
"Hey," Dean said with a grin. "You ready for some good food?"
"Always," Cas responded, nodding once.
"I've known Ellen, the owner, for years," Dean said, pulling back out onto the road. "She's married to my boss. They're family friends."
"I don't think any of my family's friends like me very much," Cas stated, looking out the window. He didn't sound upset, but as if he was simply stating a fact.
"Well screw them then," Dean said quickly.
Cas turned to him, one eyebrow raised, and then he smiled. "Exactly."
"Hey, Ellen," Dean said with a smile, looking up at the older blonde woman as she set down their menus.
"Hey, hun," Ellen returned. "The usual for you?"
Dean shook his head. "No. I might get something else, as long as, um... y'know-"
Ellen smiled warmly. "Of course, hun, I can get the info for you."
"Thank you."
"Anything to drink?"
He ordered a water and Cas ordered a coke. She walked off and Dean faced forward again to see Cas staring down at the menu.
"Do you like bacon?" Dean asked.
Cas looked up and nodded.
"Well they have a really good bacon cheeseburger," Dean suggested, "and it comes with bacon cheese fries."
Cas raised an eyebrow and set the menu back down on the table. "I guess I know what I'm getting, then." He paused. "What about you?"
"I'm probably going to get the grilled chicken. I don't really do the greasy stuff."
Cas smiled. "So how did you know the burger was good?"
Dean shifted in his seat. "Well... I used to. But I don't anymore."
"Oh," Cas said softly.
Ellen re-appeared with their drinks, setting them down on the table. "You boys ready to order?"
"Yeah, he's gonna get the bacon double cheeseburger with the loaded fries, and I'll have the grilled chicken." Dean handed her both the menus and she nodded.
"You got it. I'll be back in a minute with your info."
"What is she talking about?" Cas asked.
"Nutrition information," Dean sighed. "Not to sound weird, or... shallow, but... I keep track."
"Oh," Cas said with a nod. "I'm sure you've noticed," he said, and Dean saw his upper arm moving, probably placing his hand on his stomach beneath the table, "but I don't. I think life's too short to bother with that stuff." He moved his hand away and shrugged, picking up his straw and removing the wrapper.
Dean wasn't sure what to say about the first part of his comment without sounding like a dick, because yes, he had noticed... but he also didn't care. So he just shrugged as well. His life would've been cut significantly short if he didn't bother with that stuff, so... "I don't really have a choice," he said.
Cas tilted his head and squinted across the table at him, and it was the most adorable thing Dean had seen all day. "What do you mean?"
Dean's lips parted to answer, but he hesitated, thinking back to two years ago- the last time he was honest with someone from the get-go.
"Why are you so strict?" the brunette asked, eyeing Dean's salad as she dug into her own pasta dish.
"Because I have to be," he said simply.
Her tongue came out to lick a stray bit of sauce from her lower lip. "What, were you like, super fat or something?"
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. No use lying. "Yes."
She raised an eyebrow, and Dean could see her eyes trailing down his chest to where the view disappeared under the table. "I never would've guessed," she said honestly, bringing her eyes back to his face. "How big were you?"
He could feel his face heating up with embarrassment, but he ignored it. The way he was in the past was just that- in the past. He'd worked so hard to get to where he was today, so he didn't really see the point in hiding it.
"Let's just say I could have been on TV."
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "No way," she breathed. "So you were, like, six-hundred pounds?" She reached out for her drink.
Dean looked down at the table, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Close to it."
"Holy shit." She snorted a disbelieving laugh around the straw in her mouth, and Dean looked back up at her through narrowed eyes. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I just... find it hard to believe."
"Well it's true," he mumbled.
"How does that even happen?" she asked. She brought her fork to her mouth again.
"Poor lifestyle choices," he answered flatly.
She rolled her eyes. "Well, duh, but I mean, like, how do you let it get to that point?"
Dean gritted his teeth. "Maybe we can talk about something else."
She at least had the decency to look apologetic. "Sure... Sorry."
"Dean?"
He was brought back to the situation at hand to see Cas staring at him from across the table, but he couldn't really remember exactly what Cas had asked him. "I have poor self control," he settled on, shrugging lightly. He hoped it sufficed as an answer.
Cas nodded in understanding but Dean knew he really had no idea just how true it was. They talked for a few more minutes about other things until Ellen showed up with their food.
She set down two index cards as well, and Dean quickly grabbed them. He hadn't meant for her to give him the info for Cas' meal.
"Enjoy," she said, walking back off to the kitchen.
"Is one of those for mine?" Cas asked, nodding his head towards the cards in Dean's hand.
"Uh... yeah," Dean said, looking down at them. His was less than four hundred calories, but Cas'... Holy shit. Sixteen-hundred calories, way over the recommended daily percentage of fat-
"Let me see," Cas said, reaching across the table for it. Dean handed it over, and Cas' eyes widened. "Holy fuck," he breathed.
"What did you think it would be?" Dean asked.
Cas shrugged. "I don't know. I've literally never given this stuff a second thought." He peered up from the card to see Dean staring at him. "...What?"
"I don't care, you know," Dean said softly. "I just..." He looked down at his plate and sighed. "I have to be strict with myself." He looked back up to meet Cas' eyes. "But I don't care what other people look like."
Cas smiled and set the card down. "Thank you, but I didn't think you did. It's not like I exactly hide it under layers or loose clothes or anything, and you still asked me out, so..." He shrugged.
Dean nodded. Cas had a point. He wished he could've had that confidence, especially since these days he actually thought he looked pretty damn good. But when you grew up as the fat kid, your mindset never really changed, no matter how much weight you lost.
Cas took a bite of his burger, chewed, swallowed, and washed it down with a gulp of coke. "Good recommendation," he murmured. "This is awesome." He plucked two fries from the plate, and Dean watched as the cheese stretched a good few inches before finally snapping. Cas popped them into his mouth. "So," he said, snapping Dean out of his trance, "Why do you have to be so strict, hmm? Surely you can let loose once in a while."
"Once in a while turns into all the time," Dean mumbled, picking up his fork and poking at his chicken. "I prefer it this way. No surprises when I get on the scale. If I fucked up, I know about it."
Cas raised an eyebrow, chewing another bite of his burger. "Did you used to be really overweight or something?" He swallowed what was in his mouth. "If... you don't mind me asking."
Dean sighed, setting his fork down and leaning back in his seat. He studied Cas from across the table. Cas certainly was in no position to judge him, although Dean wouldn't even consider him fat anyway, just... slightly chubby. But the conversation with the brunette was still fresh in the back of his mind, and their conversation was starting to sound eerily similar, so he decided the less Cas knew for now, the better.
"It was more about the fact that I wasn't in control," he answered.
Cas nodded slowly. "Well... whatever you looked like before, you look, like... amazing now." Cas mumbled the last part, turning his eyes down to his plate as his face flushed pink.
Dean chuckled. "Thank you."
Cas raised his eyes again. "How did you do it?"
"A lot of hard work," Dean answered honestly. "Why? Are you interested in losing weight?"
Cas shrugged, looking down at the burger in his hands. "Not really."
Dean nodded and started cutting his chicken as Cas worked on his burger.
"So, uh, where do you work?" Dean asked, eager to change the subject already.
Cas snorted a laugh. "PetSmart. Shitty retail job, nothing special."
"But you get to pet dogs on the clock, so that's good, right?"
Cas smiled. "Yes. That's definitely a bonus."
"That's good that you like dogs," Dean said with a nod, popping a bite of chicken into his mouth.
Cas raised an eyebrow as he reached for another fry. "Why?"
"Because I have one," Dean answered. "He's my best friend, so what he says goes." He gave Cas a crooked grin.
"Oh, well in that case, I hope he likes me," Cas said, his face stone-cold serious.
Dean laughed. "I'm sure he will."
"How long have you been a mechanic?"
Dean tried to think back. He'd gotten the apprenticeship with Bobby three years after his surgery, so... "Nine years?"
Cas nodded, then looked up with one eyebrow cocked. "Wait... how old are you?"
"Thirty-four." Dean paused. "...How old are you?"
Cas' eyes widened. "I'm twenty-six."
Dean's eyes widened as well. "Oh, shit. Now I feel old as fuck."
Cas laughed. "I never would've guessed you were thirty-four."
"Thank you," Dean said with a chuckle.
"My birthday is next month though," Cas continued, "so I guess I'm basically twenty-seven."
"Oh, good," Dean said quickly. "So I'm only seven years older than you. Because eight would've just been too much," he joked.
They talked more as they finished their food, and Dean ordered them each a beer. When Ellen brought the bill, Cas pulled out his wallet, but Dean held a hand out to stop him.
"No, I got it."
"I thought we could split it," Cas explained.
Dean raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up as he thumbed through the cash in his wallet. "No, I asked you out, so I pay. That's how a date works."
Cas nodded. "Right."
Dean dropped the cash onto the table, self-doubt suddenly bubbling up in his stomach. "I mean... this was a date, right?"
"Yes," Cas said quickly. "It just... I don't know. It feels weird having someone else pay for me."
"...Have you never been on a date?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrow again. He couldn't really talk, seeing as he hadn't been on many either, but there was nothing wrong with Cas. He couldn't imagine that the guy had never been asked out before.
Cas shrugged. "Not really. I usually meet people by hanging out with mutual friends, and we just hang out, and it... goes from there."
"I see," Dean said quietly. "Well, I asked you out on a date. So, I pay." He flashed Cas a grin, which Cas nervously returned. "Are you ready to go?"
Cas nodded and they stood up and made their way towards the door. Dean waved to Ellen on his way out, and when they got to the car, he slid in front of Cas to open the passenger door for him.
"Thank you," Cas said sheepishly.
When he pulled up to Cas', Cas looked out the window to the house. His shoulders sagged a bit, and he turned back around to face Dean.
"I'd invite you in, but... parents."
Dean nodded. "I guess PetSmart doesn't pay much, huh?"
Cas shook his head. "No." He paused. "I had a really good time, though. I'd like to do it again... if you want."
Dean smiled. "Yes, I would." It made him happy to see the smile that spread across Cas' face. "If you want, you can come to my place. Meet my dog and watch a movie or something."
Cas smiled a little wider. "I'd like that." His eyes dropped to Dean's mouth, and Dean really hoped he would scoot over so they could lean forward and kiss. But Cas was all the way across the bench seat, and although his tongue came out to wet his lower lip, he dropped his eyes and reached for the door handle. "I should go. My parents are nosy as fuck, and I have work in the morning anyway." He looked back up. "...I'll text you?"
Dean pushed down his disappointment and nodded. "Yeah. Text me whenever you want, Cas."
Cas smiled and pushed the door open. After he climbed out of the car and up onto the curb, he turned around and leaned down. "Thanks again for dinner. Really."
Dean gave him a charming smile. "Anytime, Cas."
"Goodnight, Dean." Cas straightened up and closed the door, and was striding across the lawn before Dean could respond.
He watched Cas go for only a minute, not wanting to seem like a creeper, before pulling away from the curb and heading home. He was kind of disappointed he didn't get to kiss Cas, but he told himself that it seemed like Cas really wanted to. He must have had his reasons, and they both had a good time, so he tried not to let it bother him.
It was late when he arrived home, almost eleven-thirty. Floyd bounded to the door, and Dean reached down to pet him.
"Hey, buddy! Wanna go for a walk?"
He got an excited bark in response.
"It's late though, so we'll have to make it short. I'll make it up to you tomorrow." He grabbed Floyd's leash from the hook by the door and leashed him up, and off they went. But he could never deny Floyd all the sniffing he loved to do, and Dean enjoyed the exercise, so they didn't make it back to the house until a quarter after midnight.
He brushed his teeth as Floyd got a drink of water in the kitchen, and at twelve-thirty they were both crawling under the covers.
Dean slept in the next morning, as Sunday was one of his two days off. He woke up around eleven to his phone vibrating on the night stand. He clumsily reached out for it, nearly knocking over his glass of water, and squinted at the screen. It was a text from Cas.
Cas: Good morning dean. Will you send me a picture of your dog?
Dean let out a sleepy chuckle.
Dean: good morning to you, too, cas. and sure. not enough dogs at work today?
He exited out of the conversation and opened the camera app. He rolled over to face Floyd, who was asleep next to him, his head poking out from beneath the blanket and lying on the pillow. Just as he snapped the picture, he got another text from Cas.
Cas: Nope. Only been here 3 hours though.
Dean smiled and sent the picture, including a caption.
Dean: he uses a pillow like a person
Cas: That's adorable. And it's also adorable that he sleeps in the bed with you.
Dean: every night. but dont worry, theres still room for one more tho
He hit send, and three minutes ticked by before he realized he might have been going too far too soon. They'd only had one date... last night. And they didn't even friggin' kiss yet. Another minute and he was debating sending 'for another dog, i mean'. But then his phone vibrated and another text popped up on his screen.
Cas: Sorry, had to help a customer. God, it's like they think i work here or something. Anyway, that's good to know ;)
He huffed a relieved laugh that woke Floyd, who squinted at him through hooded lids.
"Sorry I woke you, buddy," Dean murmured, reaching over to stroke his fur. "You hungry?"
Floyd's ears perked up and he lifted his head, tilting it at Dean.
"I'll take that as a yes," Dean chuckled, pushing himself up. "Come on." As they made their way into the kitchen, he typed out another text to Cas.
Dean: i gotta go. need to feed floyd and take him for his walk. but text me when you get off, i don't want you getting in trouble at work
As he poured the kibble into Floyd's bowl, his phone went off again.
Cas: You're right. My manager's giving me some serious side-eye. Talk to you later.
As Floyd ate, Dean made himself a small egg-white omelette with some mushrooms and peppers. He washed down his vitamins with a swig of water, entered the info for his breakfast into his app, and sat down at the table. He ate it slowly as Floyd begged from the floor. As Dean finished, he rolled his eyes at the dog. "You're so bad. You just ate." But he tossed Floyd the last piece of egg, with a slice of mushroom in it, anyway.
"Come on," he said, standing up. He deposited his plate in the sink and headed for the door, Floyd at his heels. "Walk time."
They walked for forty-five minutes before turning around and walking forty-five back. When they returned, Floyd took a long drink and collapsed onto his dog bed in the living room for a nap. Dean sprawled out on the couch and picked up the remote, turning on the TV and flicking through the channels. He settled on a nature show about lions and pulled his phone from his pocket, typing out a text to Charlie.
Dean: we still on for today?
Charlie was definitely his best friend. They'd been friends since she moved into town in the eighth grade, and despite Dean being a fat loser, she befriended him anyway. They quickly became best friends, and since Dean didn't really go anywhere, they often spent the day after school at his house, working on homework together and playing video games. She never said anything about Dean's eating habits. Thinking back on it now, Dean knows that that wasn't necessarily a good thing. But he hadn't been ready to change, nor did he think he could, so any comments she would've made, no matter how well-intentioned, would've only served to make him feel worse about himself, anyway.
She'd never given up on him, though, even when he dropped out in junior year because he couldn't fit in the desks anymore. She'd still come by nearly every day, keeping him company and keeping him informed on school drama, since he rarely left the house. She was there when he finally decided to get the surgery, and she was there through all of the ups and downs after. She was there to celebrate with him when he dropped his first 100 pounds and she was there as a shoulder to cry on when things got to be too much and he was sure he couldn't do it.
So yeah, she was definitely his best friend.
Charlie: duh. but good thing you texted me, i was still passed out. slept through my alarm.
Dean: jeez charlie, it's already like 1
Charlie: shut up, i went to the bar last night
Dean: oh yeah? did you have a nice craft club afterwards?
He grinned into his phone as he typed it. He wasn't sure when that started, but he loved calling Charlie's sexy time "craft club". It drove her crazy.
Charlie: ugh like it's any of your business dean. but yes. lots of SCISSORING.
He wrinkled his nose and another text came through.
Charlie: just kidding. i didn't score. but i had fun picturing your face when i said that.
Dean: har har
Dean: what time will you be here? there's nothing on TV
Charlie: so read a book, you uncultured swine. ill be there in an hour. and how did YOUR date go? who was pitcher and who was catcher?
Dean: you know i don't move that fast
Charlie: well did you at least get to third base?
Dean: knock it off, charlie. and if you must know, we didn't even get to first
Charlie: you poor soul
Charlie: guess it didn't go well then?
Dean: it went great actually. but when i dropped him off, idk... he kind of got nervous and he said his parents were nosy. maybe he thought they would see
Charlie: his PARENTS? how old is this guy?
Dean: 26
Charlie: and he still lives with his parents? hope he's not some kind of psycho lol
Dean: he's not. we'll talk more when you get here. shouldn't you be getting ready, anyway?
Charlie: yeah yeah. keep your pants on. ill see you soon.
"So I'm concerned this guy still lives with his parents," Charlie said, shifting slightly beneath Dean. He was sprawled out on his back on the couch, his head in her lap.
"He works in retail, Charlie. They don't pay very well." He paused. "Besides, I think you're forgetting that I lived with my parents until I was twenty-five. Didn't own a car until I was twenty-four. Didn't lose my god damn virginity until I was twenty-six."
Charlie rolled her eyes. "You're an extenuating circumstance, Dean. You were sick."
Dean snorted. "Yeah, in the head. And you're calling this poor guy a psycho."
She huffed a sigh, carding her fingers through Dean's hair. "I was just messing with you. And you're not a psycho. You were an addict."
"Yeah, yeah," Dean mumbled. "Tell that to any other addict out there and they'll laugh so hard they piss themselves."
She grabbed Dean's face in her free hand and turned his head to face her. "Dean, stop it. You and I both know food addiction is real. I thought you were past this whole being-so-hard-on-yourself thing."
"I'm not..." He exhaled sharply through his nose. "I'm not being hard on myself, Charlie. I'm just saying that other people don't get it. And you've got to admit that it's true."
She hummed in agreement, letting go of his face and resuming carding the fingers of her other hand through his hair. "And your mother certainly didn't help with her constant enabling."
Dean snorted a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You've got plenty to say about my mother."
"Yes, I do," she said flatly. "She didn't seem to care that she was killing you, even after I tried talking to her about it."
"She thought she was making me happy," Dean said weakly.
Charlie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, except you were fucking miserable."
"I know," Dean agreed.
He couldn't really blame his mom. Sure, he was literally raised with unhealthy eating. When his brother Sam was stillborn, it broke his mom's heart. She poured everything she had into making Dean happy, and she flat-out refused to tell him no unless absolutely necessary. And apparently his ballooning weight as a child still didn't constitute a "no" as necessary. But as he got older, he knew it was a problem, and he still did nothing about it. So he couldn't place all of the blame on his mom.
"We've had this conversation a million times," he sighed.
"You're right," she said. "So what's he look like?"
Dean closed his eyes, and Charlie watched the corners of his mouth lift into a small smile. "He's got these intense blue eyes. I've never seen anything like them. And dark brown hair. When he came into the shop it was kind of all over the place, and it was hot as hell. But he brushed it for our date. And, uh... he's got a really nice smile."
"He sounds cute," Charlie surmised. "Do you have a picture?"
Dean opened his eyes to look up into hers. "No," he frowned.
Charlie returned his frown. "That sucks. You should ask him for one."
"That's creepy, Charlie. We've only been on one date."
"Come on," Charlie groaned. "Just ask him."
"No," Dean said quickly. "I'm not trying to scare him away."
"Fine," she huffed. "Try looking him up on Facebook."
Dean thought about it for a brief moment, but then realized he didn't know his last name. "I don't know his last name. And I think his first name is short for something."
"What did you say it was again?"
"Cas."
"Probably Casper," Charlie guessed.
Dean shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. Maybe I'll find out one day."
She shifted a bit in her seat, causing Dean to sit up. "Let's get to why I'm here, huh?" She jumped off the couch and grabbed her bag from the floor on her way to the TV, pulling out a few DVDs. "Harry Potter marathon!" she whooped. "Go make popcorn."
"Yes, ma'am," Dean replied, pushing himself up from the couch and walking into the kitchen. Floyd jumped up to follow him, and Dean grabbed a rope toy from the floor and played with him while the popcorn popped. Once it was finished, he sat back down on the couch with the bowl. Charlie already had the movie started and paused, and as soon as Dean sat down she hit play. The sign for Privet Drive appeared on the screen just as Dean's phone went off.
Charlie shot him an annoyed look, but there was no heat behind it. They'd seen the movie a million times, anyway. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen.
"It's Cas."
"What did he say?"
"That he just got home from work. We were texting this morning but I told him to text me later so he didn't get in trouble at work."
"Ask him for a picture."
Dean rolled his eyes. "No, Char."
She playfully punched him in the shoulder. She hated when he called her that, and that's exactly why he did it. She said it reminded her of the sound a Charmander made.
"Fine." She snatched the popcorn bowl off his lap. "No popcorn for you then."
He shrugged. "I've eaten enough food to last me the rest of my life. I'm good."
"You know you want some," she teased, popping a piece into her mouth. She made a pleased sound as she chewed. "Is this extra butter?"
"Yep. Just for you," Dean said distractedly, typing away on his phone.
Dean: how was work?
"What are you saying?" she asked, peering over to peek at his phone.
"Hey!" he said quickly, pulling his phone away. "Watch the movie, nosy."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Whatever."
His phone went off again and he turned off the ringer so Charlie wouldn't hassle him about texting through the movie.
Cas: Boring as fuck. What're you doing?
Dean: watching harry potter with my friend charlie
Cas: Sounds fun. Should i be jealous?
Dean: she's gay, lol
Cas: Being straight is overrated.
Dean snorted a laugh, and Charlie looked at him suspiciously, but didn't comment, instead turning her eyes back to the TV screen. Another text popped up on the screen shortly after the first one.
Cas: So which movie are you watching?
Dean: the first one
Cas: It's been so long since i've watched harry potter.
Dean: we can watch it when you come over, if you want. when do you want to do that, by the way?
He waited nervously as the three dots indicating Cas was typing appeared and disappeared repeatedly over the next minute.
Cas: Whenever you want. I'm off wednesday :)
Dean: me too. what time do you work tues? do you want to come tues evening?
Cas: I'll come whenever you want me to, dean.
Dean's eyes widened and he glanced at Charlie, feeling the blood rushing to his face. She was staring at the TV screen and didn't seem to notice the shocked expression on his face. He turned his eyes back to his phone. He had no clue what to say- he'd never been so shamelessly flirted with before. Finally he settled on-
Dean: tuesday it is, then ;)
He waited a few minutes, then texted him again.
Dean: can i ask you something?
Cas: Sure.
Dean: is cas short for something?
Cas: Yes.
Dean: oh. what?
Cas: Guess :)
Dean: ...casper?
Cas: Lol. No. Try again.
He glanced over at Charlie. "He said it's not short for Casper."
"Oh. Well what's it short for then?" she asked, her eyes glued to the television.
Dean frowned. "He's making me guess."
Charlie laughed. "I like this guy."
"Well are you going to help me guess?" Dean asked impatiently.
She glanced at him briefly and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. "Use google, dumbass."
Dean brushed the piece of popcorn away from where it had landed on his lap, and Floyd, who had been watching from his bed, quickly appeared and gobbled it up. Dean googled the name Cas, and then texted Cas back.
Dean: Casey?
Cas: Nope.
Dean: Caspian?
Cas: You're using google, aren't you?
Crap. Busted.
Dean: yes. i'm a cheat, i know
Cas: It's alright. You never would've guessed. I guess i'm just cruel like that for making you try.
Cas: It's Castiel. And before you try to butcher it, it's pronounced cas-tee-ell.
"He said it's Castiel."
Charlie raised an eyebrow, then nodded and turned back to the TV.
Dean: you're right, i never would've guessed that. i like it though
Cas: Thank you, dean.
Cas: And my last name is novak in case you want to internet stalk me.
Dean: i wasn't planning on it, but now that you mention it...
Dean: kidding. i'd rather get to know the real you, not your internet persona
Cas: Internet persona, huh?
Dean: yeah, you know. everyone has one. the person they present themselves to be online
He would know. He spent a lot of time online as a young adult when he was practically housebound, making friends in far away places that he would never have to meet. He still talked to a few of them on occasion, but mostly they were just Facebook friends now.
Cas: I'm impressed.
Dean: thank you? lol
Cas: You're welcome. How is floyd?
Dean: sleeping. he's an old man, so our walks tire him out for most of the day.
Cas: How old is he?
Dean: 10
Dean: do you have any pets?
Cas: Just a rat. That's all my parents will let me have.
Dean: damn, im sorry. do you plan on moving out any time soon?
Cas: Unfortunately, no. It's too damn expensive on my pay, and i don't have any skills to get a better job. I'm kind of a loser lmao.
Dean: you're not a loser. you just need to find something you're good at.
Cas: I guess so.
Dean started to feel bad for asking, so he tried to somewhat change the subject.
Dean: i sent you a picture of floyd... send me a picture of your rat
Cas: Okay, hold on.
Dean waited patiently, until another text came through.
Cas: Dammit, he won't hold still. I need to bribe him with food.
Dean waited a few more minutes, and finally a photo came through. Cas was holding the phone high in front of him, presumably holding food between his fingers, and looking up at the camera. Atop his head, nestled in the mess of hair, was a gray hooded fancy rat. He was leaning forward, looking right at the camera, and he looked about two seconds from sliding forward and tumbling off of Cas' head.
A smile instantly spread across Dean's face as he took in the photo. Cas' mouth was twisted into a small nervous smile, but his eyes were big and bright.
Dean: adorable
Dean: and your rat is, too
Cas: Quite the charmer, you are :) Thank you. His name is roger.
Dean: like roger waters?
Cas: You got it.
Dean: you have great taste, cas
Cas: Thank you, dean. Sucks you can't meet him.
Dean: why can't i?
Cas: My parents are always here... they don't really like when i have people over.
Dean: that really sucks :\ i'm sorry
Cas: It's okay. I'm used to it. I just try to get out as much as possible.
Dean noticed he was still typing, so he refrained from responding until Cas was done.
Cas: By the way, i'm sorry i kind of rushed out of the car last night. My parents don't really approve of my sexuality, so... i just didn't want to have to rebuff you. I told them i was just going out with a friend, but i would bet $100 my mom was watching through the damn window.
Dean frowned down at his phone. That would explain why Cas didn't kiss him, even though it certainly looked like he wanted to.
Dean: it's okay. don't worry about it. i'm really sorry you have to live like that though
Cas: I'm used to it. I'm going to let you get back to your movie though.
Dean glanced up at the TV to see that the movie was already half-way over.
Dean: okay. i'll text you later when Charlie leaves
Dean: if you want
Cas: Okay :)
Dean turned to Charlie, who was tossing pieces of popcorn into her mouth and watching the movie. "I got a picture."
She turned to him with a grin. "Yes! That's what I'm talkin' about. Lemme see."
He scrolled back in their conversation to the photo and clicked on it so that it filled the screen. He held the phone out to her, and the looked at the screen before moving her eyes to his face and smiling.
"He's cute."
Dean felt his face flushing. "He is, isn't he?"
"If I wasn't gay I'd be jealous."
Dean chuckled, glancing at the picture one more time before pressing the button to shut down the screen and setting his phone down on the coffee table to finish watching the movie.
Tuesday dragged on at work. Cas was coming over after he got out of work at six, after a quick run home to feed Roger and change his clothes. Dean had never been this excited about hanging out with someone he liked before. He rushed home after he got out of work at five and took Floyd for a quick walk (which still ended up being forty-five minutes), then hopped in the shower to wash off the grease from the shop.
When he stepped out, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He turned to face it, running his fingers over the chest scars again. His hand fell to the one running horizontally along his waist, right above his pubic area. It had also faded white with age, but under the bright bathroom lights, it was clearly visible. It ran over his hips and all the way across his lower back, like he'd been cut in half. He hated it, but he reminded himself that it was a fair trade for what he looked like before.
His body still wasn't perfect though. He could still grab the skin on his lower stomach between his fingers and pull it out a bit, but it wasn't noticeable at all unless he was literally on all fours and gravity was taking over. Even then, it looked nothing like it did before the skin removal surgery. He shuddered just thinking about it. It was awful, and he'd been so disgusted, that he'd wondered why he'd even bothered losing all the weight in the first place, only to be left with a body he was still ashamed of.
He just hoped that if they ever got that far, Cas wouldn't care.
There was a knock on the door at seven. Floyd jumped up and started barking, but Dean shushed him and told him to go lay down. He skulked off to his bed, but watched the door closely as Dean opened it.
Cas was standing on the doorstep, holding a box of pizza with a two-liter of Coke perched on top.
"Hey," he greeted. "I brought a pizza."
"Oh," Dean said in surprise. "You didn't have to do that. I could've cooked something."
Cas shrugged lightly so as not to disturb the liter of soda. "You bought dinner last time."
"You've got me there." Dean reached out and took the soda, then stepped back so Cas could enter the house. As Cas brushed past, he got a whiff of smoke, and... something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. When Floyd smelled the pizza, he jumped up from his bed and flew to the door, sniffing at the box in Cas' hands.
"Well, hello there," Cas said, looking down at the dog. He balanced the edge of the box against his stomach with one hand and reached down to pet Floyd with the other.
"Pizza crust is his favorite," Dean said, closing the front door behind Cas. "You can get comfortable on the couch, if you want. Just put the box on the coffee table. I'll get plates and cups."
Cas nodded and looked around, spotting the couch on the left. He made his way over and set the pizza box down on the coffee table, then plopped down on the couch and resumed petting Floyd.
As Dean rounded the corner of the couch, he handed Cas a plate and glass. He sat down on the center of the couch, so he wasn't too far from Cas, but he wasn't crowding him, either.
"I didn't know what you liked, so I just got plain," Cas said as he poured himself a glass of soda.
"Plain's fine. I can't really eat a lot of greasy food anyway, so I'll probably only have one slice."
Cas turned his head to cock one eyebrow at him. "You're seriously going to leave me with the rest of this?" he asked, nodding towards the pizza box. He brought his glass to his lips and took a large gulp of Coke.
Dean blinked. "...Leftovers?"
Cas snorted a laugh, almost dribbling Coke all over himself. "That's not gonna happen. Shit. Sorry," he said quickly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "I'm a fuckin' mess right now."
Dean offered him a reassuring smile. It was actually pretty fucking adorable. "Long day at work?"
"Yeah... but I'm also really fucking stoned," he said, reaching forward and popping open the top to the pizza box.
Dean's eyes widened. So that was what he smelled when Cas walked in the door- weed. "You smoke?"
"Yeah," Cas said, leaning back with a slice of pizza on his plate. "Do you?" He folded the slice in half and took a large bite off the end.
"Occasionally," Dean answered. "It's been a long time."
Cas swallowed what was in his mouth and his tongue came out to lick a bit of grease from the corner of his mouth. "Do you want to? I have more."
Dean thought about it for a moment. The only reason he didn't smoke often was because it made him lazy and gave him the munchies, but the idea of getting stoned and eating pizza with Cas sounded amazing. "Sure," he said with a smile.
Cas grinned and put his plate down on top of the pizza box. "Awesome. Be right back." He stood up, grabbed his keys, and within ten seconds he was gone, the front door closing behind him. He returned not two minutes later, dropping his keys onto the table and himself back down onto the couch. In his hand was a ziploc bag, with what was probably three grams of weed inside, and a glass pipe. He set the pipe down on his lap and popped open the bag, pulling out a small nug. He tossed the bag onto the table and broke the nug up between his fingers, dropping the small pieces into the bowl. When he was finished, he leaned back and fished a lighter out of the pocket of his jeans, then held both of the items out to Dean.
"You can have greens."
"Thank you," Dean said, taking the pipe and lighter. He brought the pipe up to his lips, placed his thumb over the carburetor, and flicked the lighter. Touching the flame to the herb, he took a long pull, moving his thumb off the carb half-way through and clearing the smoke out of the pipe. He pulled the pipe away and held his breath for a good thirty seconds before exhaling a large cloud of smoke across the room. A few small coughs forced their way from his lungs, but he took a gulp of his water and they stopped.
"Here," he said, his voice strained, as he held the bowl out to Cas.
Cas shook his head, nearly finished with his first slice of pizza. "Smoke. I'm stoned already. I'll hit the next one." He paused, reaching into the box for a second slice. "And hurry up, pizza's gettin' cold."
Dean nodded and hit the bowl again. It had been a long time since he smoked, over a year, and he had to take a few minutes between each hit so that he didn't have a coughing fit. By the time there was only one hit left, he was definitely feeling it, and Cas was finishing his third slice. He took the last hit and set it on the table, leaning back into the couch and blowing the hit out across the room.
"Here," Cas said, grabbing Dean's plate and placing a slice of pizza on it.
Dean took it gratefully and dug in, and before he knew it he was down to the crust. "Holy shit, that was good," he breathed. He looked over to Cas, who was working on his fourth slice, Floyd sitting to his side and staring at him intently. "Floyd."
Floyd's head snapped in his direction and Dean tossed his crust across the table. Floyd jumped up to catch it, then lowered his head to the floor and began eating.
Cas let out a low chuckle as he watched Floyd gulp down the bread. "Sorry buddy, but I eat my crust." He leaned forward a bit to deposit his empty plate on top of the pizza box, then leaned back and wiped his fingers on his pants. When he was satisfied they were free of grease, he moved the hand to his stomach and let out a long sigh.
Dean must've been zoning out staring at him, because suddenly Cas was opening one eye and smirking at him. "Wanna pack another one?"
Dean blinked. "Uh... yeah." He reached out for the bag and pipe and began packing another bowl. He passed it to Cas, who took a large hit, holding it in far longer than Dean had before exhaling slowly.
Dean had to admit it was hot as hell watching the thick white smoke leave his lips. As Cas took a second hit, he looked around the room. "...Weren't we supposed to be doing something?"
Cas grinned at him. "Watching Harry Potter?" he supplied, his voice strained as he held in another hit.
"Oh, right," Dean said slowly.
"We can watch something else if you want," Cas offered, blowing the smoke across the couch and into Dean's space. "I don't care."
Dean nodded and reached for the remote. He hit the power button and the TV turned on to the news. He put on the guide and began scrolling through.
"Wait, put that on," Cas said, indicating Half Baked on comedy central. "Seems appropriate."
"Okay."
They watched in silence for a little while, passing the bowl back and forth and snickering at the movie. About twenty minutes later, during a commercial break, Cas sat up to open the pizza box again.
"Do you want me to heat that up for you?" Dean asked.
Cas shook his head. "No thanks. Sure you don't want another slice?"
Dean pondered it for a minute. He was extremely high, and he definitely could make room for another slice, although that was certainly going to be his limit. "Yeah, I'll take another one. I'm heating it up though, cold pizza is gross." He grabbed a slice and tossed it onto his plate, standing up.
"That's where you're wrong, my friend," Cas mumbled, biting into his slice.
Dean shook his head in amusement as he made his way towards the microwave. He expected Floyd to follow, but as he leaned against the counter and waited for his pizza, he noticed Floyd was still at Cas' side.
"He seems pretty sure you're going to share," Dean called across the room.
Cas laughed. "Better luck next time, buddy," he mumbled around a mouthful of pizza.
When Dean returned to the couch, Cas was picking up the last slice. Dean set his down and took the box, walking into the kitchen and to the garbage can. He dumped the crumbs into the can and broke down the box, tucking it between the fridge and counter with the rest of the cardboard. When he came back, Cas was taking large gulps of his second glass of soda.
The movie resumed on the TV, and Dean turned his attention to that, eating his second slice slowly.
There was a heavy sigh next to him. "Dude, I'm sorry, I'm like a black hole when I'm stoned."
Dean turned his head to look at him, blinking in confusion. "...What?"
Cas gestured towards the half-eaten pizza in his hand, the last of the six remaining slices after Dean had eaten his two.
Dean shrugged. "You bought it, man, eat as much as you want."
Cas looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he finished his slice in silence and took another swig of soda. Then he stood up, wiping his fingers on his jeans again. "I'm going to go outside and have a cigarette."
"You smoke?"
Cas nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "Yeah. You didn't smell it on me?"
Dean stared at him for a moment. "Kind of, when you got here, but not on Saturday."
"Oh, my parents don't let me smoke in the house," he explained, "and I'd just showered and put on clean clothes before you picked me up."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
Cas stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking around the room. "That's not, like... a deal-breaker, is it?"
Dean raised an eyebrow. "What? No."
Cas nodded, looking down. "Just checking. I'll be right back." He turned towards the front door.
"You can go out back," Dean suggested. "There are chairs." He stood up and walked Cas over to the back door. "To the left."
"Thanks," Cas said softly, slipping out the door.
He pulled his pack of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket and dropped down into one of the chairs. They were metal, made for the outdoors, but there were cushions on them, and they were actually pretty comfortable. He brought a cigarette to his lips and lit it, then took a long drag. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, bringing his hand to his stomach and digging the heel of his palm in.
He was a little too high, and a little too full. He definitely needed a cigarette to bring him down and settle his stomach. He rubbed his hand across the upper curve of his stomach, really hoping Dean wasn't peering out the window. He knew he probably wasn't, but a lifetime of living with his nosy mom always had his paranoia on edge. And she always had something nasty to say about his eating habits- like he gave a shit.
As the cigarette burned down towards the filter, he took one last drag off of it and looked around for somewhere to put it out. He was surprised to find a ceramic ashtray on the table. He snuffed it out and stood up, sighing a little as the contents of his stomach settled.
When he went back inside, Dean was on the couch, one arm up over the back of it and sipping on his glass of water. He noticed their plates were gone and Dean had his socked feet up on the table.
"Hit the light," Dean said. "By the front door."
Cas turned off the light, and the room was basked in just the glow of the television. "Why do you have an ashtray?" he asked, making his way back to the couch.
Dean tilted his head back and blinked at him. "For when my friend Benny comes over. He's a smoker."
Cas nodded and rounded the corner of the couch, sitting back down and leaning back into the cushions. He tilted his head back, and the hair on the back of his head brushed up against Dean's bare forearm, sending a jolt through him. He still hadn't gotten to touch Cas at all yet, and he didn't want to miss this opportunity. He waited until Cas lifted his head again to watch TV before figuring it was now or never. He dropped his arm a bit so that it was around Cas' shoulders.
Cas tensed momentarily, and Dean felt his throat go dry.
Please don't let him freak out.
Cas shifted, and Dean was just about to pull his arm away when Cas leaned into him.
Dean's heart kicked up in his chest, and he just hoped Cas couldn't feel it, because he could feel it throughout his entire body. He wanted to blame the weed, but he knew it had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with Cas' body pressed up against his own.
"Thanks for inviting me over," Cas murmured.
"Any time, Cas," Dean replied, and he just hoped Cas didn't notice the hoarseness in his voice.
They sat like that for a few minutes as Dean willed his heart to stop pounding. Cas was warm and smelled like smoke, with a underlying hint of clean laundry. He looked down at the top of Cas' head, searching his brain for something to say. Of course his brain picked the dumbest thing- "You didn't brush your hair today."
Cas tilted his head to squint up at Dean. "What?"
Dean's face flushed. "Um- I just- I meant, on Saturday, you brushed it. I... like it better... when it's messy," he stammered, his eyes flicking between Cas' hair and his eyes.
Cas smiled shyly. "Thank you," he said softly.
Dean stared at him a moment longer, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "C- can I..." He trailed off, because as he spoke, Cas' smile grew wider, reaching his eyes. He took that as permission and dipped down, closing his eyes and capturing Cas' lips in his own.
His lips were warm and dry, and fuck, it just felt so right. Cas lifted his left arm to place a hand on Dean's chest, leaning up into the kiss. They parted for a moment, barely an inch apart, and then Cas' mouth was on his again.
Dean parted his lips and Cas darted his tongue in, and he tasted like Coke and pizza and cigarettes. They made out for a few minutes, and as the kiss got more heated, Cas grabbed at Dean's chest through his flannel. Dean groaned into the kiss, as his dick stirred to life in his pants.
Cas broke the kiss and twisted so that he was facing Dean more. He leaned in to kiss him again, and as he did so, his hand traveled down Dean's chest, down his stomach, and to the buckle of his belt. Dean tensed, and Cas must have felt it in the kiss, because he recoiled his hand and pulled away.
"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "Too fast?"
"Um..." Dean gulped and took a breath. "For me. Yeah. But, uh..." He leaned forward, so he was speaking right in Cas' ear. "I'd love to swallow you down."
Cas pulled away and his eyes widened, and then he nodded.
Dean gave him a cocky grin. "Good. Lay back."
Cas turned and scooted back so that he was leaning back into the corner of the couch. Dean took a deep breath, pushing down his nervousness, and pushed himself up, turning and settling down on his knees. He crawled forward and leaned down to kiss Cas again, reaching between them to unbuckle Cas' belt. He had his pants unfastened quickly, and Cas lifted his hips a bit so Dean could slide them, along with his boxer briefs, down around his thighs.
Cas groaned into the kiss as his cock sprung free, and Dean took him in his hand, giving a slow, gentle tug. Cas' hips twitched and he groaned again.
Dean broke the kiss and Cas let his head fall back, eyes closed. Dean crawled back and looked down at Cas' length in his hand, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips. He ducked his head down and ran his flattened tongue along the underside of the head and over the slit, eliciting a stuttered sigh from Cas. He wrapped his lips around the head, suckling lightly as his fingers gently worked the base.
Dean pulled back up to the tip, pushing out a good amount of saliva, and then sliding back down as far as he could go. Cas gasped above him. Dean lifted his eyes as he slowly bobbed up and down, and Cas was staring down at him. Then a large hand was caressing his face for a brief moment, as Dean closed his eyes, before sliding around into the hair on the back of his head. When Cas' fingers twisted into the roots, pulling lightly as he groaned again, Dean couldn't help moaning onto his cock.
Cas sucked in a sharp breath, tightening his grip on Dean's hair. "Fuck," he murmured. "So good, Dean."
Dean enjoyed the praise, bringing his free hand forward to rest it on Cas' hip, sinking his fingers into the soft skin there. He pushed down a bit further until the head of Cas' cock hit the back of his throat. He stopped for a moment, swallowing down around him, and Cas tensed beneath him, pushing out a sharp breath.
"Holy shit," he breathed. "Almost."
Dean pulled back and sunk down again, all the way, swallowing again. He did this repeatedly, and he felt Cas' thighs quivering beneath him.
"Where... should I-"
Dean popped off. "Don't worry about it," he rasped, before quickly swallowing Cas down again.
Cas let out a little whine, and then he was pulsing in Dean's mouth, shooting his release down his throat and tugging on his hair. Dean swallowed again, massaging the base with his fingers, milking Cas for everything he had and swallowing it all.
Cas let out a long sigh, and Dean pulled off, his tongue coming out to lick a bit of saliva off of his lower lip. He lifted his eyes to see Cas staring down at him, lips parted and chest rising and falling slowly. Then Cas was using the hand buried in his hair to pull him up and forward, crushing their mouths together and darting his tongue inside.
When they broke apart, Cas pulled his shaking hand away, and Dean laid himself down on Cas' lap, nestling his head into the softness of Cas' stomach. Cas let his arm lay over Dean's shoulder, and Dean wrapped his arm around Cas' waist, listening to his slowing heartbeat.
"Thank you, Dean," Cas breathed. "I enjoyed that very much."
"Any time, Cas," Dean responded.
They laid on the couch for a little while, watching whatever had come on TV after Half Baked, until Cas let out a long yawn. "I'm tired," he said sleepily.
Dean curled the fingers of the hand that was resting on Cas' chest. "You can stay over, if you want."
Cas took a deep breath in through his nose. "I'd like that."
"I just have to take Floyd out first. But you can lay down now if you want."
Cas thought about it for a moment. "No, I'll come with you. I could use a cigarette."
"Okay." Dean pushed himself up and climbed off the couch. Cas lifted his hips and pulled his underwear and jeans back up. He worked on his fastenings and belt as Dean woke up Floyd.
"Come on, Floyd," he called. "Time for a walk."
Floyd jumped up from his bed and followed Dean to the front door, and as he leashed him up, Cas joined them at the door. They walked out into the night, down the walkway and onto the sidewalk. Cas lit a cigarette and took a long drag as Dean and Floyd began walking down the sidewalk.
"Oh, you actually walk him?" Cas asked, trailing behind them and puffing on his cigarette.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, watching Floyd sniff a fire hydrant.
Cas shrugged. "Some people just walk them out in the yard to potty then bring them back in."
Dean shook his head. "Nope. We usually walk for at least three hours a day total." He looked back to see Cas' eyes widen, and Dean grinned. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make you walk for an hour. It's late anyway. As soon as he's done we'll go back." He paused, observing Floyd lifting his leg on a telephone pole. "It's just good exercise for both of us."
"No, that's... that's good." Cas was quiet for a moment. "Y'know, I have to admit, when you said you had a dog, I was kind of nervous that, well... you'd be a pet person versus a dog person."
Dean looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. "What d'you mean?"
"Well," Cas said carefully, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette, "there are pet people and there are dog people. Pet people are the ones who see dogs as novelties or toys. Their dogs are usually overweight, or have overgrown nails and need a good grooming. They eat crap food and don't get any physical or mental stimulation." He took another drag off of his cigarette. "Then you have dog people, who understand that dogs have needs besides food and a bed. They feed good food, and train them, and keep them clean, healthy, and well-groomed."
Dean chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "You learn all that at PetSmart?"
"Yes," Cas said sheepishly. "Mostly from personal observation. I have seen a lot of dogs and owners come through that door. ...Tried to offer a lot of advice that's been rebuffed," he added quietly.
"You really like dogs, huh?" Dean asked as Floyd lifted his leg again on a bush.
Cas nodded. "Yeah."
Dean smiled, but then it fell into a frown. "I'm sorry your parents won't let you get one."
Cas shrugged. "I have Roger. But... rats only live three years or so. So it's hard getting attached," he said sadly.
"Have you ever thought of moving out with a roommate or something?" Dean asked, walking back towards Cas to start the walk home.
"Yeah," Cas answered, falling in step with Dean. "But what if it didn't work out? What if I lost my job? I can't go crawling back to my parents. That would be mortifying, and they'd never let me live it down." He tossed his cigarette butt into the street and pulled another one out of his pack. "And I'd have to re-home the dog."
"That's true." Dean walked a little slower to allow Cas to finish his cigarette, and they finished the walk in silence. When they arrived back at the house, Floyd got a quick drink as Dean hung up his leash.
"Do you want pajamas?" Dean asked, walking towards the hallway leading to the bedroom.
Cas grabbed his bag of weed from the table, shoving it into his pocket so Floyd wouldn't get into it, and followed Dean. "I don't care," he said. "I usually sleep naked," he admitted. "But I can sleep in my boxers and shirt... if that's okay."
"Yeah, I don't care," Dean said, disappearing into a door on the left and flicking on the light. Cas followed him in and Dean squatted down to rummage around underneath the sink. He came back up with a new toothbrush, handing the package to Cas.
"Thank you." They brushed their teeth and Dean left Cas alone so he could pee.
"Bedroom's across the hall," he said on his way out.
Cas nodded as he closed the door. When he was done, he washed his hands and crossed the hallway into the bedroom. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed in a plain white t-shirt and boxers, bending down to remove his socks. The room was illuminated only by a lamp on Dean's night stand. He looked up when Cas entered, offering him a reassuring smile. "Be right back." Cas nodded and Dean walked past him and disappeared into the bathroom to relieve himself.
Cas walked around to the other side of the bed, furthest from the door. He unfastened his pants and let them drop to the floor, stepping out of them. He turned and sat down and pulled off his socks, leaving them on top of his jeans. He felt the mattress dip and turned his head to see Dean climbing underneath the blanket.
Cas stood up and pulled his side of the blanket back, lowering himself onto the mattress gently so as not to jostle it too much. He scooted down and pulled the blanket up over himself. Dean reached over and clicked off the light, and the room was shrouded in darkness.
Dean felt Cas' arm moving, and then fingers were wriggling between his own. Dean scooted over a bit, so their hands were pressed between their thighs. Suddenly something was tickling his chin, and he realized Cas was leaning his head on his shoulder, his hair brushing up against his jaw. He tilted his neck so that his head was resting on top of Cas'.
They laid like that for a minute, until Cas lifted his head and hesitantly pressed their lips together. Dean kissed him back, and when they broke apart a minute later, Dean asked softly, "Still tired?"
"Not really," Cas answered.
Dean grinned, unlacing their fingers and rolling over onto his side to face Cas. Cas did the same, and Dean brought his other hand up to place it on Cas' neck, pulling him into him and kissing him again. He felt himself immediately hardening in his boxers, reminding him that he'd never gotten off after sucking Cas off on the couch.
But Cas didn't waste any time, because soon a warm hand was on Dean's waist, pulling him closer and slotting their hips together. Dean felt Cas' hard length press up alongside his own, and he groaned into their kiss, rolling his hips slightly.
Cas groaned back, so Dean moved his hand from his neck to his shoulder, pushing him onto his back. He pushed himself up and swung one leg up and over Cas' thighs.
"Ooo," Cas chuckled. "I like where this is going."
Dean couldn't help it. He was a lot more confident with the lights off. He planted his hands on the mattress on either side of Cas and rolled his hips down into Cas, pulling a low moan out of him. He leaned down and sealed their lips together, kissing him roughly as Cas pushed his hips up into him.
"Fuck... yes..." Dean groaned when they broke apart. But as much as rutting up against each other through their underwear felt amazing, he wanted more. He reached between them and tucked two fingers into the waistband of Cas' boxer briefs. "Can I take these off?" he asked.
"Yeah." Cas lifted his hips and Dean slid his fingers back and forth across the waistband, shimmying them down as he kept himself propped up with his other hand. Cas groaned as Dean's fingers brushed over the head of his dick as he did so. "Can I take yours off?"
"Yes."
Cas' hands came up to quickly yank Dean's boxers down around his thighs, and Dean lowered himself again, pressing himself up against Cas' hot length. He shuddered out a sigh, rolling his hips forward into Cas.
Dean spit into his hand and reached between them, taking them both in his fist and tugging slowly. He dipped his head down again to lock their lips, rolling their tongues together as he picked up the pace.
He broke the kiss to bury his face in Cas' neck, huffing out a breath. Cas shuddered beneath him, reaching up to grasp at Dean's shirt. For a moment Dean was afraid he would pull it off, but he didn't, only clutched it in his fists.
Dean dragged his thumb over the heads, smearing the precome around as Cas bucked up into his fist. "God, Cas," he hissed into his shoulder, "So fucking good."
"I know," Cas groaned. "I know."
Maybe Dean was being too eager, but he'd only been with three people in his entire life- one female, two males. The female, Lisa, had been a long-term relationship, but it hadn't worked out, for reasons he still wasn't one-hundred-percent sure of. The other male was Benny, who he occasionally fooled around with as a friends-with-benefits deal. The other male had been a one-night stand. Dean had gone out drinking for the first time after his surgery- two years later, as he was advised not to drink after surgery- and he'd gotten drunk way faster than he expected. Liquid courage coursing through his veins, he'd met a guy and topped him in the back seat of the Impala in the parking lot. He hadn't even gotten the guys number, and he'd taken a cab home.
This was so much better. He was clear-headed, and he liked Cas, and it just felt more... intimate. Part of him thought maybe he was being stupid, but he pushed the thought away and focused on his impending orgasm.
Beneath him, Cas was pushing his hips up into him, his head turned. Dean could feel the heat of his breath on the back of his neck. He lifted his head and crushed their lips together again, and Cas took his lower lip between his teeth. Dean felt everything in him lock up, and Cas released his lip from between his teeth to clutch Dean's waist.
With one final thrust, Dean spilled between them, gritting his teeth and grunting into Cas' shoulder. Two more lazy thrusts, and Cas followed, coming over Dean's fist and between their stomachs, biting his own lower lip into his mouth.
Dean lowered his weight on top of him, panting slightly into his shoulder.
"That was... awesome," Cas breathed.
"Yeah," Dean agreed. Once he caught his breath, he pushed himself up. "I'll be right back with a washcloth."
Cas nodded, although he didn't think Dean could see it in the dark. "Okay."
He felt Dean throwing the blanket off of them and leaving the bed, and then he saw the bathroom light across the hall flick on. He heard the water running, and he propped himself up on his elbows, and then suddenly the night stand light was flicked on. Cas flinched, and Dean frowned, standing on the other side of the bed with a washcloth in his hand.
"Are you okay?"
"Um, yeah... I just... wasn't expecting that," Cas said slowly, lifting his arm to shield his eyes from the light. He didn't really want to admit that he was a bit self-conscious, his shirt ridden half-way up his belly and his softening dick lying limply between his legs. Dean had already seen him, though, so it was too late to do anything about it now.
"Sorry," Dean said softly. He must've cleaned himself up already, because his boxers were back up, and there was a damp spot on the bottom of his tee shirt where he'd probably wiped off any come. He kneeled on the bed and reached out with the washcloth, swiping it across Cas' lower stomach. He then reached out with his free hand to push his shirt up to where his chest met his stomach, bringing the washcloth higher, dipping it into his navel where a bit of come had pooled.
He glanced up to see Cas watching him with an unreadable expression, a dark blush coloring his cheeks.
"What's wrong?"
Cas looked away. "Nothing."
Dean was pretty sure he had an idea what this was about, so he didn't say anything. He only held the washcloth out, and Cas took it from him to wipe off his dick. When he handed it back, Dean tossed it across the room, and it landed in the laundry basket.
"Do you want a clean shirt?"
"Sure," Cas said quietly, pulling his underwear back up. He wasn't sure Dean would have one that fit, but the bottom of his shirt was soiled with come, so he didn't really have a choice.
Dean walked over to his dresser and pulled out an old, worn Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt. He crossed the room again and held it out to Cas. Cas took it and sat up all the way, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Dean laid back down, and Cas pulled his shirt off, dropping it to the floor and keeping his back to Dean.
"I'll wash your shirt tomorrow," Dean said quietly.
"Thank you." He pulled Dean's shirt over his head. It fit well, except for around his midsection, where it didn't completely cover the lower curve of his stomach. He pulled it down, but it wouldn't stay. He sighed, hoping it would fit better when he laid back.
Behind him, Dean clicked off the light, and Cas was thankful for that. He got back under the blanket, lying on his back and staring up into the dark. Dean shifted next to him, and then an arm was wrapping around his waist.
"Hey, Cas?" Dean said softly.
"Yeah?"
Dean was quiet for a moment, and then he tightened the arm around Cas' waist. "I like your body."
"...You do?"
Dean buried his face in Cas' shoulder. "Yes."
Cas leaned his head into Dean. "Thank you, Dean."
"You're welcome," Dean said, sleepiness becoming apparent in his voice. "G'night."
"Good night."