Dean had told Cas about his interest, he refused to call it a fetish, a few months ago. In hindsight it probably hadn't been the best idea he'd ever had, but he had been drunk and randy and it was worth it at the time to see Cas' puzzled expression. In a moment of drunken thoughtlessness he had told Cas about his affinity for Cowboys and the whole Western genre, going so far as to tell him that it turned him on. Cas had asked him if this was the reason he had seemed so thrilled about retrieving the Phoenix ashes and Dean had answered with a resounding yes.
Dean had regretted the moment he woke the next morning, once he remembered what he had said. He was embarrassed as hell; he never had been able to keep his mouth shut when he was drunk. He hoped that Cas had forgotten, or that he at least wouldn't repeat what he had heard. The next time he saw Cas a weeks later, he made no mention of Dean's drunken confession and Dean breathed a sigh of relief.
There was a night, not too long ago when Dean thought the jig might be up. Cas had popped in on Sam and Dean in their hotel room, an old Western played out on their TV. Cas looked from the TV to Dean for a moment and looked like he wanted to say something. Dean had quickly stood and started talking, effectively preventing any humiliating comments Cas might make and Dean really didn't need to hear it from Sam if he found out. Dean had had a difficult time being alone with Cas since that night, not out of shame per se, but for an entirely different reason that Dean didn't care to dwell on.
Dean Winchester was of the sort not to deny his feelings, but to push them so far down inside himself that denying them wasn't even an option. So, on few occasions where he would lie awake at night, thinking that maybe it wasn't so bad that Cas knew his secret, thinking that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew a few more. These musings would be smothered immediately and Dean would be even more distant towards Cas the next time they saw each other and if Cas noticed anything strange in his behavior, he didn't say anything.
Dean was sitting at the small, shabby table in the corner of the latest in a long line of motels. Sam was gone; doing research probably, Dean hadn't noticed him leave. Dean himself had his computer in front of him, trying to make sense of what he was reading. After some time he closed the laptop, frustrated. It was a moment or two before Dean realized he wasn't alone. How long Cas had been standing behind him, he didn't know.
"Hello Dean." Cas said evenly.
"Dammit Cas! How many times do I have tell you not to do that?" Dean said angrily.
"Do what?" asked Cas tilting his head in confusion.
"Sneak up on me like that."
"My apologies Dean, I will refrain from doing so in the future."
"Well, good." replied Dean with more aggression than was strictly necessary. "Is there a reason you're here?"
"I came to speak with you."
"About?"
"Have I done something to displease you?" asked Cas.
"What are you talking about?"
"You have been acting rather cold towards me of late, I wondered if this was in response to something I might have done."
"No Cas, you didn't do anything wrong." said Dean, his tone softening slightly.
"Then what is the problem?"
"It's nothing, it's personal, all right?" said Dean defensively.
"Does it have anything to do with the events of the night of your intoxication?"
"What? No, hell no!" Dean almost shouted.
"Dean, if I have learned anything from you, it's that being human is a very intricate and delicate affair. Though I am new to the art of emotion, I understand that something that happened that night has upset you. If you would just tell me what's wrong, then maybe I could help."
"You can't help me." Dean said harshly.
"How do you know that?" asked Cas.
"Because you were right, we humans are very goddamn intricate and you wouldn't understand." said Dean standing and taking a step away from Cas.
"I could try." Cas replied softly. "I care about you Dean, more so than any other human, and I hate to see you suffer."
"Well get used to it, cause' suffering's kinda in the job description." Dean said gruffly.
"It doesn't have to be this way." Cas said taking a tentative step towards Dean.
"Yeah, and how the hell would you know?" asked Dean rounding on Cas, suddenly furious. "What makes you think you have any right to come down here and tell me how to live my life? I got along fine without you for years and I'll get along fine without you when you're gone."
"Dean?" Cas asked almost pleadingly.
"You know what? I don't want to hear it." Dean was shouting now. "Just get the hell out of here Cas, just go!"
Cas looked at him for a moment longer, confusion and hurt etched on his face in equal measure before he vanished, leaving Dean alone once more. Dean collapsed onto one of the beds and tried not to think of the look on Cas' face, the look he had put there. He hadn't meant to hurt him, but that's all he seemed to do to the people he cared about. And he cared about Cas, he really did. He sighed in frustration, dropping his head into his hands.
Sam found him sitting dejectedly in the dark a few hours later, when he asked what was wrong Dean shrugged him off, saying he was tired and needed sleep. Sam didn't press any further and Dean was grateful. Weeks passed and Cas didn't return Sam was beginning to worry.
"Maybe we should call him, see if he's ok." Sam suggested one evening in a motel just outside Tulsa.
"I don't think that's a good idea." Dean deadpanned.
"Why not, something could have happened to him."
"I doubt it."
"Yeah and how would you know?" asked Sam losing his patience.
"The dude can take care of himself." Dean snapped.
"Did something happen between the two of you?" Sam asked tentatively.
"What? No, of course not." Dean replied harshly.
"Because if it did" Sam continued disregarding Dean's response. "I think it would be good for you two to work it out, whatever it is. He's your friend Dean; you can't stay mad at him forever."
"Yeah whatever." replied Dean, not bothering to deny anything to Sam anymore, the kid always seemed to be able to see right through him.
"I'm going out for a few hours." Sam said standing and making his way to the door. "Just talk to him, okay?"
"Who says he even wants to talk to me?" Dean asked.
"He does, believe me he does." Sam said as he stepped through the door and disappeared.
Dean stood and began angrily pacing the room. There was no way out for him. If he called Cas he'd have to deal with what he'd been avoiding for weeks, months, and if he didn't, Sam would know and call Cas down himself, then Dean would have an audience, which was the last thing he wanted. He fumed at the impossibility of the situation. Cas was probably still pissed; he probably wouldn't turn up even if Dean did call him, despite what Sam was so sure of. Dean's shoulders slumped in resignation and with the air of a man sealing his fate he spoke to the empty room.
"Cas," he said. "If- if you're not too busy, I need to talk to you."
Dean waited tensely, expectantly. Several seconds passed before he heard a rustle of wings behind him. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Dean prepared himself for the worst. He turned around and saw Cas standing a few feet away, much further than he normally would, his expression unreadable.
"Hey Cas." Dean said lamely.
"Is there a reason you have called me here?" asked Cas tonelessly.
Dean winced as his own harsh words were thrown back at him. "Yeah," he said. "I wanted to talk to you."
"About?"
"Look Cas, I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean what I said. It's just…"
"Just what?" asked Cas a little less harshly than before.
"You were right, okay, about why I was avoiding you, why I was being such a dick."
Cas said nothing, waiting for Dean to continue, he wasn't going to make this easy and if Dean was honest with himself if deserved this. "It was about that night. What I said to you was personal and I…"
"You don't trust me?" asked Cas.
"No, God no." Dean said earnestly. "It's just that it brought some stuff to the surface for me, you know stuff I'd rather leave buried."
"What stuff?" asked Cas.
"Just you know feelings." replied Dean, hating how his voice trembled.
"And what kind of feelings are these?" asked Cas softly, taking a step towards Dean.
Dean heaved a sigh, there was no way out now, he'd already come too far. He looked at the floor not meeting Cas' eyes. "Feelings for you." he admitted so quietly he hoped Cas wouldn't hear.
Cas took another step towards Dean and reached his hand out, gently tilting Dean's face upwards so that he could meet his eyes. Dean felt trapped in the intensity of Cas' gaze. His body seemed to sing with tension and his breathing became rapid. It was an eternity before Cas spoke, not taking his hand from Dean's face.
"These feelings," he began. "What had you hoped would come of them?"
"What?" asked Dean surprised. "I don't know, I guess I never thought that far ahead."
Cas moved his hand to cup Dean's face gently. Dean leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut briefly. "And how would you feel if I told you that your feelings are reciprocated." said Cas stroking his thumb over Dean's cheekbone. "Always and completely."
"Cas." Dean all but sighed into the Angel's caress. Cas' hand slid to the back of Dean's neck and drew him closer. Their lips met softly, slowly. Dean' s arms came up to wrap around Cas, fingers buried in the tan fabric of his trench coat. It lasted a moment, or a lifetime and Cas pulled away slightly, a soft smile on his face. "Hello Dean." he murmured.
"Hello Cas." Dean replied smiling.
"I have wanted to do that for quite some time now." Cas said resting his forehead against Dean's.
"So have I." Dean admitted his cheeks tinged with a pink glow.
"Are you blushing?" Cas asked running his thumb over Dean's flushed cheek.
"No." Dean lied.
"You're a bad liar, Dean." Cas said amused, as he leaned in and brought his lips to Dean's once more. Dean's hands slid up to tangle in Cas' hair as he parted his lips for Cas' tongue. Dean gasped into the kiss as the Angel's tongue explored his mouth. Dean reveled in the moment, tried to memorize every sensation, the felling of Cas' lips moving against his, the slight rasp of stubble, the hand tenderly resting on his cheek. They parted several moments later slightly breathless.
"I like it when you blush." Cas said against Dean's lips.
"I was not blushing." Dean argued halfheartedly.
Cas pulled away and looked at Dean, exasperated. "You're impossible, Dean Winchester."
"You love it." Dean replied playfully.
"Yes I do." Cas agreed more seriously. "It's not the only thing I love about you."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes, there's quite a list." Cas said.
"Well," Dean began. "Sammy won't be back for a while, how bout you run through that list for me?"
"I'd love to."
When Sam returned a few hours later, he found Dean propped up in bed, an infectious smile on his face. "How'd things go?" Sam asked noting his brother's happy expression. "Good I take it by the look on your face."
"It went fine Sammy." Dean said grinning.
"You two sort things out?"
"Yup."
"Are you gonna elaborate?" Sam asked.
"Nope."
"Whatever." Sam said. "I'm just glad you two made up, you've been moping around here for weeks."
"I was not moping." Dean protested.
"Yes you were, like a girl who just got dumped."
"Yeah right." Dean scoffed, unable to wipe the smile from his face.
It was two weeks before Dean had any down time away from Sam, two very long weeks, with nothing but brief stolen kisses in the Impala. Sam was on his way to the library to look through some old newspaper clippings and Dean was on his way back to the motel to do some research of his own. If things went according to plan, there wouldn't be much researching happening.
Dean pulled into the motel parking lot and cut the engine. He stepped out of the car and approached the door to room number 4 rapidly. He unlocked the door ready to call Cas the moment he was inside. He stepped into the room and froze, shock rooting him to the spot. Cas had apparently gotten the memo. He lay on Dean's bed with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. It was what he wore that had robbed Dean of his ability to speak. He wore worn denim jeans, tight in all the right places, a blue chambray shirt, a sheepskin vest, a pair of thick-soled cowboy boots, and a worn leather cowboy hat. Dean finally managed to unlock his limbs and he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.
"Cas?" he asked in amazement.
"Hello Dean." Cas replied a little smugly at Dean's reaction.
"Wha- What is this?" Dean asked gesturing to Cas' outfit.
"I thought you might appreciate it." Cas replied. "Do you?"
"Yes." Dean said eyes raking over Cas' form. "Yes I appreciate it very much."
Dean made his way to the bed stripping off his jacket as he went. He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Twisting around so that he faced Cas, he reached out and ran a hand down Cas' chest feeling the rough fabric of the vest under his palm. His hand continued its descent finally resting on Cas' hip.
"Cas." Dean said low in his throat, eyes darkening as his grip on Cas' hip tightened almost painfully.
"Dean." replied Cas softly, his gaze never leaving Dean's face.
This seemed to be the only invitation Dean needed, descending on Cas a moment later. Lips meeting Cas', mouth hot and demanding. Cas responded eagerly, arms wrapping around Dean's neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Dean shifted on the bed so he lay half on top of Cas, his hands running over every inch of Cas, eager to get him out of his clothes and yet also reluctant to do so. Dean settled for resting his arms on either side of Cas, hands gently stroking his face as he kissed him. Dean's thigh was planted firmly between Cas's legs and he could feel the hot weight of Dean's erection against his leg. Dean licked into Cas' mouth, tongue tangling with his own. Dean pulled back slightly sucking on Cas' lower lip, biting it till Cas moaned, thrusting up into Dean's thigh, trying to get some friction on his aching cock.
"I know that you enjoy these clothes Dean." Cas said breathlessly. "But maybe you could hasten to remove them."
"Oh no," said Dean chuckling darkly. "This is my rodeo; cowboy and you play by my rules."
Cas shivered at Dean's tone and nodded.
"Good." said Dean cheerfully as he sat up, straddling Cas' thighs. He reached down hands caressing Cas' chest and pulled the vest open. His hands slid upwards to the collar of the blue shirt Cas wore and in one deft movement, ripped the shirt open, buttons flying in every direction. Dean's hands were on him in a second, fingers trailing along his ribs making his muscles jump under the touch.
Cas' breath hitched in his throat and he reached up and began tugging off Dean's shirt. Dean lifted his arms and let Cas remove the offending garment and toss it carelessly across the room. Cas' hands eagerly explored the muscular planes of Dean's chest, taking one dusky pink nipple between thumb and forefinger and pinching sharply. Dean gasped and thrust into Cas' thigh. Cas reached desperately for Dean, managing to unbutton his jeans and get the zipper down before Dean's hands settled on his to still his movements.
"I'll do the undressing, if you don't mind." Dean said leaning forward so that he could wriggle out of his jeans, keeping pressure on Cas' cock, making him writhe as he did so. His boots hit the floor and his jeans followed suite a second later. Dean could see the pleading in Cas' eyes and he smirked as he reached for Cas, pulling his jeans down achingly slow. He left them on, pooled around Cas' ankles along with Cas' cowboy boots.
"Dean." Cas said, almost begging.
"I know." Dean replied running a hand down Cas' chest, fingers lingering at the waistband of Cas' boxers. He slid them slowly down Cas' lean hips, enjoying the moan from Cas' lips as his cock was released from the stifling fabric. The boxers joined the jeans at Cas' ankles. Dean took a moment to gaze appreciatively at Cas through heavy lidded eyes.
Dean slipped out of his own boxers and leaned down to kiss Cas. Their mouths met, hot and wet and Dean pressed his hips down so that his cock slid deliciously against Cas'. Cas moaned into Dean's mouth at the friction and Dean thrust against him again. Dean gasped at the feeling of their cocks, slick with precome, sliding against one another, trapped between their bodies.
Dean groaned as Cas wrapped his legs around his waist and thrust upwards. Dean thrust against Cas again and again, sweat and precome slicking his way. Cas bucked into every thrust, his hands tangling in Dean's hair, moaning his name. Dean's pace quickened, desperate for more friction, fingers digging into Cas' hips hard enough to bruise. He wanted Cas so badly, needed him, all of him. He was close, so close, it had been so long and Cas felt like heaven on earth, his sweat soaked skin, his chest hitching with every exhale, his bright blue eyes, darkened with lust and need, locked onto Dean's. Their lips met again, gentler than before as Dean pulled away he reached between them. Taking their cocks in his hand and stroking, relishing the feel of the heated flesh against his palm. Cas thrust up into his hand and came, head thrown back and moaning loudly. The look of ecstasy on Cas' face and the feel of Cas' cock pulsing in his hand was enough to send Dean over the edge. His orgasm was ripped from him, riding the line between pleasure and pain, his vision whited out for a second.
Dean collapsed next to Cas breathing heavily. It was several moments before Dean realized Cas was still wearing his shirt and vest. He pulled Cas into his arms chuckling.
"What's so funny?" asked Cas.
"This was the best surprise I have ever gotten." Dean said placing a kiss in Cas' damp hair.
"Well, then I'll have to make sure there are many more like it." replied Cas with a smile, resting his head on Dean's chest.
"Is that a promise?" asked Dean playfully.
"It most certainly is."
At that particular moment the door of the motel room banged open. There was a thud as a laptop bag was dropped and a flash of plaid as Sam turned and ran back the way he came. The door slammed shut and Dean could hear Sam shouting as he retreated to probably acid wash his eyes.
"Well he had to find out sooner or later." Dean said laughing and pulling his angel closer.