Okay so this is the third installment in this serien and I'm well aware that I should be working on other things but this was calling to me today and I'm very much in love with this 'verse. It's time for Sam to meet Cas, as requested by some. I hope you like it :)
Also by now I would recommend reading the previous stories 'Roadtrip to Phoenix' and 'Pecan Pie in Pasadena' so you're up to date. All of this is also published on ao3.
Warning: There's some explicit stuff going on here.
Exclaimer: Supernatural ain't mine, yo.
Welcome to Lawrence
.
Bacon was sizzling in the super-sized pan next to two slices of French toast and a couple of green pepper cuts, in steaming mugs coffee was waiting to be consumed and through the open window the sticky heat came creeping into the house. Castiel waited a couple more seconds until he emptied the pan's contents unto the plates resting on the countertop behind him, admiring his delicious creation. He wasn't much of a cook, lacking both time and motivation, much unlike his older brother, but he wasn't exactly clumsy in the kitchen either. And Dean Winchester counted as motivation enough.
They had been back in Kansas for almost three days now, the entire trip back to New York too long, even for an exceptionally well-maintained muscle car like Dean's Impala, and his flight home wasn't due for another two days. He actually dreaded the thought of leaving the cozy little house in Lawrence and returning to his dull apartment. Alone.
The morning marked one week and one day of knowing Dean and it was such a ridiculously short time, Castiel knew that, but he also took the things his brother had told him seriously. Whatever it was that he had found with Dean, it was precious. And he wasn't going to have another freak-out, not lastly for Dean's sake. The other man constantly eyed him with what he thought were secret little looks but Castiel saw them anyway, saw the fear in those pale green eyes. Dean should not be scared of him running off anymore, Castiel thought. He also thought the breakfast he was about to bring to the probably still sleeping Winchester's bed was symbolic- and domestic- enough to get that point across once and for all.
As predicted, Dean lay still on his back, snoring softly, a blanket barely covering his unclothed body- unclothed because Castiel had admittedly initiated an activity that deemed sleep wear a little more than unnecessary. He couldn't keep his hands off Dean's sun-kissed skin, his muscled arms and the slightly softer pouch of his stomach that was the result of one or two burgers too many. According to Dean, who was quite self-conscious about the tiny flaw in his otherwise Greek-god-physicality, it was entirely the cows' fault for being made of delicious beef. (Castiel had laughed harder than he should have at the Winchester's pouty expression)
"Good morning," Castiel greeted, setting the tray with their breakfast onto the bedside table- it was too big to fit on it perfectly but at least there was only the slightest chance of it falling off.
"Five more minutes." Dean sighed and rolled onto his stomach, showing off the twitching muscles in his back and a couple of faint pink scratch marks. Castiel winced, making a mental note to trim his fingernails while simultaneously pleased with himself for marking Dean as his. As if the purple hickey sucked onto the other man's clavicle wasn't mark enough.
Great, now Castiel already felt the blood draining from his brain and rushing to other places. He had meant to serve breakfast in bed, was it too much to ask from his member to stay down for the duration of twenty more minutes? He closed his eyes, willing images of Gabriel in a maid's outfit into his head that would ease down the growing discomfort in the sweatpants he was wearing.
Dean's sweatpants.
"I made bacon," he growled, knowing that if the sound of his voice wouldn't raise Dean from his slumber, another part of the Winchester would definitely rise. And he was so right. Castiel climbed back into bed, pressing a hand into his own crotch to keep the needy desperation out of his voice while he kept sweet-talking Dean- or rather his dick- into consciousness. "There's French toast, too." He was straddling Dean's thighs now, looking down onto the slightly freckled skin before leaning in and trailing the tip of his tongue along one of the scratches he had left there. In his sleep Dean made a little sound that was close to a whimper and attempted to turn around again. Shifting his weight momentarily onto his hands and knees, his body completely surrounding Dean's, Castiel allowed the action and watched as Dean rolled over. The blanket covering his crotch was tented.
With a smirk the dark-haired man leaned down again and began kissing a trail from the mark on Dean's collarbone, down his chest and belly until his chin came into contact with the blanket. He moved another few inches lower, exhaling a warm breath intentionally over the bulge he was facing there. "I also made coffee," he whispered roughly, toying with the material separating his mouth from Dean's bare skin, eliciting a shaky breath from the Winchester. By now he was almost certain that the other man was awake, but as long as Dean acted as if he were still asleep Castiel would play along.
That, of course, didn't mean he would play fair.
"And there's green peppers waiting," he cooed. Dean's arm flew up to cover his face and he groaned depreciatively.
"Major turn-off, Cas. Don't mention vegetables in bed," he complained, pretending to shudder at the mere thought alone, but Castiel was quick to turn the shiver into one of pleasure as he finally yanked down the blanket and sucked the head of Dean's cock into his mouth. A moment later he released it again.
"Good morning," he said for the second time, closing his fist around Dean.
"Mornin'," Dean miraculously got out in between moans as he thrust up into Castiel's hand, eyes still screwed shut. "Please. Don't. Stop."
And the Novak wasn't planning on it. Instead he sped up the already quick pumps of his fist, stroking his thumb over the slit whenever Dean least expected it and revelling in the sweet noises escaping the other's lips at the action. It wasn't long until he knew Dean was about to give in and quickly moved down to take him into his mouth just in time for the mechanic's orgasm to hit.
He tried not to taste the thick liquid invading his throat in small spurts, because he really could do without its saltiness and bitter aftertaste, and reminded himself that he was doing this for Dean's pleasure. He still wasn't big on the blow job thing, that's why he was still working mostly with his hands, but since Pasadena they had been practicing and he was slowly but surely gaining confidence in what he did.
"Can't every morning start like this?" Dean asked as he pulled Castiel up and against his chest, finally opening his eyes.
Castiel chuckled. "Hasn't it been like this for the majority of the days we've known each other?"
"True," the Winchester shrugged, leaning in for a kiss while Castiel moved out of reach. Dean blinked. "What?"
"Morning breath, Dean," Castiel explained.
"Dude seriously? My dick was just in your mouth and I have no problem with kissing you after that but you're gonna complain about freakin' morning breath?"
"You just love tasting yourself, you big narcissist," Castiel accused, only half-joking. Dean's eyes softened.
"I love tasting myself on you," he clarified and Castiel's heart did a little backflip while his forgotten hard-on stirred again at the words. They both looked down at the hardness between them and Dean reached down to cup Castiel through the pants he was wearing. "Maybe we should take care of that?"
Castiel groaned at the contact, momentarily throwing his head back. "Breakfast first," he decided with an inhuman amount of self-control that he almost regretted a second later when Dean squeezed him softly before rolling over and eyeing the food resting on the bedside table. He reached over and picked up the tray to settle it onto the mattress between them.
"You know, I thought you were just joking about the peppers," he said, shaking his head in faux-disappointment as he poked a fork at the cooling meal. Castiel rolled his eyes, pinching the Winchester's belly.
"It won't kill you, Dean."
"Are you calling me fat?"
Castiel laughed at the utterly clichéd conversation, refraining from making any further comment, and grabbed one of the coffee cups, hugging it to his bare chest as he leaned back against the headboard. They ate in silence for a little while, Dean balancing his plate in his lap so he could snake an arm around Castiel to pull him closer. The Novak gladly settled against the other man's warm body, sipping at his coffee and nibbling at the French toast until Dean's wandering fingers became too much of a distraction. He sighed at the tiny jolts of electricity shooting through him at the simplest contact, the pads of Dean's fingers tracing his ribs, Dean's lips pressing against his temple, Dean's leg stretched along his own. The moment was absurdly unspoiled, so of course something had to happen to prove to Castiel that this was still the real world and not the flawless plot of a movie that all this felt like.
The loathsome ringing of his phone came from his suitcase in the corner of the room, long forgotten since he had taken to wearing Dean's clothes for the duration of his stay in Lawrence, partly to safe laundry but mostly because it made him feel decidedly closer to the man that had decided to pull him from the pit of his loneliness.
Anxiety crept its way into Castiel's stomach, weighing him down heavily. This had to be something to do with him not turning up at his job for more than a week. Reluctantly he shifted, moving to get up, but Dean grabbed his wrist. When Castiel looked up he found his own fear mirrored in Dean's eyes. "Don't pick up," Dean begged in a frantic whisper.
And Castiel really didn't want to, not even in the slightest, but he had to. If only to face the wrath of his superiors. He tugged his hand out of the mechanic's grip and got up to walk over to his suitcase, finding his phone just in time to pick up before it would have gone to voicemail.
"Mr Adler." He had recognized the number on the display.
"Novak! Fancy that, you're alive!" God, he despised the voice on the other end of the line, although out of all the people that could have called him, Zachariah Adler was by far not the worst.
"Of course I'm alive," Castiel said, in his stressed state completely missing the sarcasm. From the bed Dean sent him a questioning look that Castiel was quick to dismiss. "What do you need?" he asked into the phone.
There was a chuckle on the other end of the line that Castiel didn't like in the least. "Well, it certainly isn't you Castiel. We would have lost our client if Michael hadn't been in Arizona and filled in for your incompetent ass."
"I really don't think swearing is a necessity, Mr Adler," Castiel got out in between calming breaths, always the professional.
"I don't care, you no longer work for us and I've never liked you anyway. There isn't a thing your father can do about it either, if you were thinking about running to him for help. His vote was overruled by just about everyone else. You may clear your office on Monday."
"Mr Adler, please-" Sure, Castiel hated his job but he also needed it. Living in New York was expensive and he hardly had anywhere else to go.
"Begging won't help you keep your dignity at this point," Adler sneered, "Now, if you'll excuse me; unlike you I do have a job to get back to. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Castiel mumbled when the line had already disconnected. For a moment the room was silent until Castiel turned to look at Dean. "I think I just lost my job." He didn't even realize the wetness on his cheeks came from shocked tears until Dean was by his side, wiping his calloused fingers over his face and hugging him to his chest. Castiel willingly sunk into the warm embrace even while he was immensely embarrassed at his emotional outbreak. If Dean minded, he didn't comment on it, he just stroked his hands through Castiel's dark hair.
"Shhh, Cas, c'mon," Dean whispered into his ear. "This had to happen sooner or later. You didn't like it there anyway. This is a good thing, do you hear?"
Castiel took three deep breaths and pulled away, shaking his head. "God, Dean, I- this isn't about the job, I'm actually glad it's over, I think. But fuck, you don't even know what it means, I need to find new work or I can kiss my apartment goodbye and maybe even leave New York and- and-"
He was cut off by a sweet kiss to his lips. "I know you like living there… we're gonna find a solution."
Castiel nodded absentmindedly, allowing himself to sink into Dean's kisses until the mechanic's words fully dawned on him. He pulled back once more, eyes focused on Dean's earnest expression. "We? Dean, I'm leaving in two days."
And for the first time in a week reality took a swing at them, hitting both with a strong right hook.
They had separate lives in two different states.
"Fuck." It was Dean who spoke, making Castiel jump after the pressing silence that had settled between them, heavy with the weight of their realization. To Castiel it seemed like an appropriate reaction, especially since he, too, could not think of a more suitable word to describe their current situation.
"I knew all of this was too good to end well," Castiel uttered quietly, dropping his forehead onto Dean's chest to collect himself before pressing a soft kiss on the skin and stepping away for good to turn off his phone and put it back into the depths of his suitcase. While he was there he also fished for a T-shirt to change into and a clean pair of underwear. "I'm going to take a shower," he said, avoiding Dean's gaze as he strolled past him. The other man hadn't moved an inch but at the last second his hand shot out to grab Castiel by the wrist, practically forcing him to look up and meet concerned green eyes.
"You're not… regretting any of this, are you?"
Twenty minutes prior Castiel would have shaken his head and laughed because of course he didn't regret meeting Dean but to be perfectly honest he really had been too caught up in the bliss of the situation to let the consequences enter his mind completely. Now that he was facing unemployment and likely the disappointment of his father once again everything had to be looked at from a more rational angle and as much as Castiel dreaded having to admit it, it would certainly have been better if the strike in Arizona hadn't occurred and he had just arrived in Phoenix and done his job as it was expected from him.
Apparently Castiel had been silent for too long, considering the weight of Dean's question because the mechanic dropped his hand and swallowed hard. "Ok," he just said. Castiel, at that moment, was too self-absorbed to realize what his own silence was implying and merely took the opportunity to continue his walk to the bathroom.
Once in the shower was running, Castiel let the panic come rushing back. He didn't want to worry Dean too much and burden him with his own instability when the mechanic probably had his own problems. He was a grown man and could deal with his issues on his own, had done so for the majority of his adult life. At least before only he had been miserable in his lonesome existence but now he had managed to make both himself and Dean unhappy, which was plainly unnecessary. Dean deserved so much better that this, Castiel thought as the water continued to fall around him. Beautiful, kind Dean who had given him back so much of his personal happiness while all Castiel did in return was bring all the crap he harboured into the mechanic's life.
At that moment Castiel hated himself more than he had during all the dreaded years he had worked for the company.
When he emerged from the bathroom, steam blowing out behind him, Dean was quick to take his place, though why exactly he had to throw the door shut quite so forcefully was beyond Castiel's understanding. He shrugged it off and went to clean up their breakfast, intending to do at least something useful if he couldn't exactly lighten the mood otherwise. To his dismay he had to discover that Dean, apparently, had had the same idea because the breakfast tray was no longer in the bedroom, the sheets were straightened out and once Castiel strolled into the kitchen he realized that the dishes had been done as well. For a moment he wondered idly how long exactly he had taken to shower.
Dean didn't take half as long. He appeared in the living room, where Castiel was lazily flipping through a motor magazine, fully clothed but with his hair still dripping roughly ten minutes later. Castiel cringed at the aggravated look in the other man's eyes as Dean grabbed his leather jacket from where they had carelessly dropped it on a chair the previous evening and walked straight toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Castiel asked, lowering the magazine in confusion.
Dean exhaled bitterly before turning halfway to face Castiel and regard him with a painfully fake smile that came nowhere near his eyes. "I'm off to work," he said, which would have been fair enough if he hadn't continued with, "Unlike you I still got a job to think of."
He was out the door so fast, Castiel didn't even have time to process the situation properly until he heard the already too familiar roar of the Impala's engine outside as it sped out of the driveway. He sat on the couch with a forlorn expression for another moment before his surprise at the harsh words turned into anger. Who was Dean to throw hurtful phrases at him like that after the news he'd just gotten? It wasn't Castiel's fault that he'd been given the boot. Coming to think of it, it had been Dean's, after all he had had the stupid idea to make a detour to California instead of doing what he should have been paid for. Going by that, Dean should have been the one to lose his job not Castiel.
Rationally, Castiel was aware that his reasoning was impeded by anger and hurt and that he of course would never wish for anything bad like that to happen to Dean. But momentarily he blamed the other man, especially after Dean had made it look like he was suddenly a lot less interested in him now that he was unemployed. He would have never taken Dean for someone to actually care about these things as fiercely, and he had said that what happened was a good thing… however, he also knew how hardworking the man was and maybe he'd had time to think about their situation while Castiel had been in the shower and decided that the whole thing wasn't worth it.
His brain on overdrive, Castiel got up on shaky legs and walked around the apartment, gathering items that belonged to him. There was his wallet on the coffee table, a t-shirt in the laundry basket, his toiletries in the bathroom of course and the business suit almost forgotten hanging in Dean's cupboard. A cold shiver rolled its way down Castiel's spine at how familiar the place already was to him and how much at ease he had felt with letting his things laying around as if they belonged there. It had all seemed fine but now he realized that of course it had been way too quick. Now he was left with a re-packed suitcase and heavy heart.
Next he looked around for Dean's laptop, guessing that it would be quicker to look up a list of local motels on there than if he were using the unstable internet connection of his phone. Dean probably wouldn't mind, since Castiel's early departure was surely also in his interest after the way he had looked at him earlier. God, this was so messed up, Castiel thought as he waited for the page to load. He looked through the list of places with addresses close enough to walk to but decided it would probably be smarter to find a place closer to the airport. With a look at the prices, however, Castiel realized that he had left his personal credit card at home in another wallet and was now left with a work credit card that was very likely cancelled, therefore he was limited to what he had left in cash, which was barely enough to pay for a motel room for two nights. A cab was out of the question.
With a sigh he booked a room in a cheap bed and breakfast not too far away from the airport from where a bus shuttle would take him to his gate at an affordable rate. He just had to ask Dean to drive him to this new accommodation once he returned from work. It sounded like a fair plan, even though the thought of leaving tugged painfully at his heart.
Now that this was settles though, Castiel was faced with an entirely different problem because a quick glance at the clock told him that Dean had barely been gone an hour and certainly wouldn't return for another while. He shut off the computer and stood up to stroll along the shelves. Dean didn't have a lot of pictures standing around, unlike Gabriel in his apartment, but from the few Castiel saw he could guess how much importance family held for the mechanic. He recognized Dean's brother, Sam, on the majority of the framed photos and was impressed by the growth spurt that had occurred at some point in his life. For a long moment Castiel lost himself in the fragments of captured moments in the Winchesters' life, allowing his imagination to propose him with a number of 'what if' scenarios. He could have gotten to meet at least Sam, he thought. It would have meant a lot to Dean and to Castiel himself as well but seemingly it would just turn out to be wishful thinking, as sad as it was.
The realization was not only vastly disappointing but also brought with it a fatigue he couldn't quite explain. His eyelids were unexpectedly heavy and drooping while his mind simply went blank. Since he wouldn't dare returning to the bedroom, which suddenly seemed much too intimate for him, he dropped back on his spot on the couch. His body was slightly too tall to fit onto the comfortable piece of furniture completely outstretched but he shifted once or twice to find a position he could relax in. He closed his eyes and let himself succumb to sleep.
…
Castiel was woken up by the soft comfort of fingers stroking through his hair and for a moment he leaned into the touch before remembering that he was supposed to be angry and sad at Dean's behaviour. He opened his eyes slowly, already regretting the decision when he was met with the mechanic's world-altering smile. He could very well have fallen completely and utterly in love the man, Castiel realized, heart dropping straight into his stomach.
"Hey, gorgeous," Dean greeted, much to Castiel's confusion. Either he had imagined Dean's anger that morning or the Winchester was being exceptionally cruel now. Both options seemed absurd and Castiel had had a restless nap and was not in the mood for any games. He pushed Dean's hand away and sat up, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
"Please stop," he said weakly, trying hard to remember how to act professionally. Dean swallowed and dropped his hand, the smile fading as Castiel moved to get up to fetch his suitcase from where it waited just outside the bedroom door.
"What're you doing with that?" the Winchester asked, getting up from where he knelt next to the couch. Castiel's mouth went dry once he regarded the mechanic fully. There were oil stains on his shirt and he was slightly sweaty and even though, if he thought of it, it sounded disgusting he still couldn't believe how attractive the man was. It made leaving just so much harder.
"I booked a room close to the airport but it appears that I haven't enough money for a cab, so if it's not too much to ask after everything I would appreciate it if you could give me a lift. I'll disappear just as smoothly from your life as I have entered it." For the second time that day, Castiel felt the familiar sting of tears in his eyes, only this time he had it under control.
Dean gaped at him. "…'disappear from my life'? Wha-… Cas, you're not making any sense…"
"Well, since this morning you implied that my… unemployment… is not to your liking, and your exit was rather unambiguous, I concluded it would be preferred by you for us to part ways." Castiel bit his lip nervously, avoiding the Winchester's eyes.
"Dude, you sound like a friggin' paralegal. And seriously, you think I got mad because you lost your job?"
Castiel looked up. "Didn't you?"
Dean crossed the room, stopping directly in front of Castiel. "Hell no, Cas. I got angry because you wouldn't answer me when I asked if you regretted, well, us." He grabbed Castiel's hands. "And I'm sorry I stormed out like I did, it was a stupid reaction and I felt bad the entire day."
"I don't regret… us. Dean." Castiel shivered as the mechanic traced his thumbs delicately over his hands. "I'm so sorry I didn't react the way you would have wanted me to but you have to understand that the situation was, and still is, very difficult for me."
"Yeah," Dean said, leaning in closer so that his warm breath ghosted over Castiel's face. "I figured as much once I had my head cleared at work. Man, you should've seen how pissed Bobby was at my attitude."
"Looks like we were both total assbutts," Castiel stated thoughtfully, freeing his hands from Dean's in favour of wrapping them around the other's neck, while Dean's came to rest on his hips. The mechanic chuckled at his choice of insult, slowing walking them toward the nearest wall and backing Castiel up against its hard surface.
"D'you still want me to drive you somewhere else?"
"Seeing as my reaction was based off wrong conclusions, I think we have this settled. Unless you want the opposite I'd rather prefer to stay."
"Look at us," Dean murmured, softly nosing the sensitive length of Castiel's throat, "already getting over our first fight."
Castiel found it difficult to reply under the attention he was receiving at first but couldn't quite ignore the statement. "Dean, we've fought before."
"Nuh uh," Dean exhaled and shook his head slowly, almost sensuously so, before replacing the touch of his nose with tiny kisses. "We argued. That's different."
"H-how so?" Castiel's breath hitched in his throat as the mechanic grabbed a hold on one of his thighs in order to hoist the leg up against his hip, the movement creating delicious friction that had Castiel mindlessly thrust his hips into Dean's once.
"First of all, an argument doesn't leave me feeling guilty the entire freakin' day." Dean's voice was a rough whisper at Castiel's ear, almost low enough to draw a moan out of the Novak. "You have no idea how often I was about to call you and apologize." The mechanic kissed a trail down Castiel's jaw and back up again, ending it with a teasing nip at his ear lobe. "No. Idea."
"You should have done that, then. It would have saved me money and disappointment." Castiel's eyes were closed as he sunk into the seductive ministrations, breath steadily losing its rhythm.
"Well, I was mad, too," Dean said with an almost audible pout. "Which leads me to the second thing distinguishing a fight from an argument, since we're both really very sorry, aren't we?" He emphasised his words with a few measured rolls of his hips.
Castiel nodded helplessly, not quite able to hold back little noises of pleasure. "Yes," he said breathily, "So sorry."
"Good," Dean said, his voice, too, beginning to lack its clarity. "That means we get to have incredibly hot make up sex." With that Dean proceeded to hoist up the Novak's second leg as well, the action pressing their crotches together more firmly for a blissful moment. Castiel's hands around the mechanic's neck moved up to tangle into his short hair as he moaned shamelessly. Dean, encouraged by the filthy noise, moved away from the wall, carrying Castiel with him who took a moment until registering the movement and protesting.
"Dean, I'm heavy," he complained, instinctively tightening his grip on the Winchester, although not seriously afraid the other man would drop him.
"And I'm strong, babe, don't worry," Dean replied smugly as he moved them onto the couch, the bedroom too far for what he had in mind, apparently. As the mechanic settled his weight onto him, Castiel's legs still wrapped securely around his waist, it dawned on him what precisely he had just heard.
"You called me 'babe'," he said in awe, adoration hinted in his breathless voice. Dean, who was currently set on the task of moving Castiel's shirt up to place sloppy kisses on the newly exposed skin, blushed profusely and hid his face in the warm skin of the Novak's stomach.
"Shuddup," he mumbled, teasingly nipping at Castiel's tanned skin in an attempt at distraction.
Castiel let out a small yelp, followed by a chuckle. "I liked it," he clarified.
"You're still talking," Dean growled against the sensitive skin of his abdomen, tongue darting out to lick a path from his navel upwards, steadily pushing the material of Castiel's tee upwards.
"Make me stop." The challenge in Castiel's voice lost its fierceness when his statement was followed by a long whine, caused by Dean lightly biting his nipple. The mechanic didn't leave him much time to recover, instead moving a hand to give its twin similar attention. Castiel was a writhing mess under the deliberate touches.
"I think," Dean said as he stopped suckling at Castiel's skin to breathe, "I just did."
Proving this to be true, the Novak did not reply in coherent words and instead moaned at the lost contact, pushing his hips up demandingly in payback. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered his victory when some of Dean's composure crumbled at the blunt move and he pushed right back. They found a rhythm that suited both their needs, sliding and rubbing against each other until Castiel remembered that they hadn't actually kissed yet to mark the end of their argument. No, fight. Whatever, it was really hard to think when most of his blood was assembling nowhere near his brain. The dark-haired man abruptly stopped the rolling movement of his hips to first get Dean's attention and then use this break in their mindless grinding to pull the other man up and connect their lips.
There wasn't even a second of pretence that this would be a chaste kiss, the first contact already uncoordinated and messy with unobscured desire. Dean finally gave in and granted Castiel a rumbled moan from deep within his throat, the noise vibrating against his lips and half swallowed by the greedy kiss. Castiel bit the mechanic's lip, not very subtly signalling that he wished for the kiss to deepen and was awarded with a hot tongue sliding against his own a moment later. His hands wandered freely down the Winchester's body as the languid kiss went on, only stopping when it reached the destination of Dean's belt. The buckle was undone in an instant, allowing Castiel to push the jeans he was wearing past Dean's hips, relieving the mechanic's erection from some of its confinement. Dean whispered an obscenity against his lips as he rutted against the equal hardness trapped in Castiel's pants and broke the kiss in favour of having Castiel lose more of his clothing as well. It took the mechanic a bit of fumbling, fingers obviously numbed with ecstasy, but soon Castiel, too, was freed of the uncomfortable restraint that were his pants. Now with only their underwear separating them even the last coherency was short-circuited and replaced by hormone driven instinct. They took up the automatic thrusts of their hips against each other once more, this time skipping the teasing and going straight for a more urgent tempo.
"So hot, babe," Dean moaned between more kisses, one hand tangled in Castiel's dark hair, the other creeping past the waistband of the Novak's briefs to cup his ass, squeezing once and pulling him even closer.
"Yes," Castiel hissed with pleasure, already feeling the tell-tale signs of approaching climax and wishing nothing more than final skin on skin contact, immensely dissatisfied with the rub of Dean's oil-stained t-shirt against his bare chest and the fact that, while Dean got to touch beneath his clothes, Castiel was left with roaming clothed buttocks. He was just about to change this, thumbs already hooked into the elastic waistband and ready to push the material out of the way, when he became aware of a faint knock at the door. He frowned before at least some of his ability to think returned from wherever it went when he was this intimate with Dean.
"They can come back later," Dean explained calmly, obviously aware of the noise as well. He emphasised this decision by helping Castiel along and pushing his underwear down past his ass. A few moments later Castiel felt a strange buzzing against his calf where Dean's jeans still rested. Dean groaned but Castiel wasn't sure whether it was because his erection was finally freed or because they were being interrupted once more. "'s just my phone," the mechanic ground out. "Not gonna answer it now." That was perfectly fine with Castiel, who relaxed again and moved a hand to finally, finally touch Dean where he most wanted it.
"Dean, I'm not going to stand out here forever." The voice was muffled by the door and the distance between there and the living room but Dean's head snapped up as if whoever was out there had yelled straight in his ear.
"Holy shit," the mechanic exclaimed, scrambling for purchase on the couch as he quickly moved away from Castiel to look first down at himself and then over at the hallway.
"What?" Castiel asked, alarmed. He sat up as well, mustering the mechanic with concern. "Dean, is everything alright?"
Licking his lips in a gesture Castiel had learned to read as embarrassment Dean sent him an apologetic look. "That's my brother out there. Totally forgot that I invited him over to meet you."
At that moment Castiel knew that his own expression must have been a perfect mirror image of Dean's shock. "And you didn't think to tell me?"
"I wanted it to be a surprise," Dean whined, already hurriedly pulling his pants back up, which was cue enough for the Novak to do the same. Both their erections were already eased down by the humiliation of being interrupted, which at least meant they weren't quite as uncomfortable to stuff back into appropriate clothing.
"You know what," came the voice from the door, "I'm guessing you're either asleep or doing something kinky, whatever it is, I'm letting myself in in thirty seconds."
Castiel panicked, aware that his hair was supposedly a mess, judging by the hopeless look on Dean's face. The mechanic darted forward and attempted to take at least some of the indicative chaos out of the dark nest. To no avail. They heard a key turn in the lock and Dean leaned in for a very quick kiss. "Sorry," he whispered. "You ready to meet Sam?"
"Not in the slightest," Castiel muttered as he tried to straighten out his shirt and posture.
"Makes two of us then," Dean said with a smirk, bumping the Novak's shoulder playfully just as a tall man stepped into the room. He did hold a definite resemblance to Dean, Castiel noticed. They unquestionably both had an affinity for plaid shirts and a lot of layers, but besides Sam being much taller he also kept his hair quite a bit longer. "Hey, Sammy," Dean chirped with the worst nonchalance Castiel had ever been forced to witness.
Sam didn't say anything. He mustered first his brother, then Castiel who dropped his gaze under the scrutiny. "You're disgusting, Dean," the younger Winchester concluded.
"I work in a garage, Sam. It gets messy," Dean deadpanned, ignoring the fact that his brother was obviously referring to both their rumpled appearances and not the stains on his clothing. Though Castiel was immensely relieved that said stains were still only oil and not something more unfortunate, considering what they had been up to prior to the disturbance.
"I'm not even going to pretend not to know what went down in here," Sam said, though it was clear that he wasn't actually mad. Which caused Castiel to wonder how often the younger man had found his brother in similar situations.
"Don't you mean who went down?" the mechanic joked much to the Novak's discomfort. "Because the answer to that is no one, thanks to you."
Sam grimaced. "Like I said. Disgusting. Are you gonna introduce us now or should I come around another time?"
"Right." Dean cleared his throat, aiming his billion-dollar-smile at Castiel who could feel his heart leap at the affection in the other man's eyes. "Sammy," he said without looking at his brother, "this is Castiel. Or Cas. And Cas, that's my ridiculously tall little brother, Sam. He enjoys being a whiny bitch." At that last remark Dean's smile turned sarcastic and he looked at his sibling.
Sam rolled his eyes and stepped forward, obviously going for a handshake but he was attentive and, realizing Castiel nervously rubbing his sweaty hands against his pants, settled for a casual wave. "It's good to meet you, Castiel. I'm sorry my brother is such a jerkface."
"You get used to it surprisingly quickly," Castiel said, voice tinged with amusement. It was obvious how close the brothers were and he felt almost flattered that they would keep up their banter so comfortably around him, who was basically an intruder to their relationship.
"Wow, Cas. Really? He's not even been here five minutes and you're already teaming up against me? Harsh." Dean shook his head in faux-disappointment.
"It just means the man is smart enough to see through your bullshit," Sam said benevolently.
"True," the older Winchester gave in. There was a short pause before he cleared his throat. "Anyway, since you two get along so well, I'll take a quick shower. Except if you wanna join me, Cas?"
"Dean," Castiel chastised sternly, while Sam just huffed his disapproval.
"Relax, moose. It was a joke." The mechanic rolled his eyes at his brother before pressing a soft kiss to Castiel's temple as if it was the most normal thing to do in front of his sibling. "See you in a few, babe."
Once the mechanic was out of the room, Castiel blushed at the term of endearment and only dared to look at Sam out of the corner of his eye. If the younger man found anything strange with it he didn't say so. Instead he crossed his arms. "Be honest, do I want to sit down on that couch ever again?"
"Probably not," Castiel admitted. They both laughed, Sam shaking his head as his eyes glowed with mirth. The taller man took a couple of steps back before turning and disappearing down the hall for a moment. He returned holding a canvas bag filled with what looked like groceries. Castiel raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Listen, Dean said he was planning on throwing some meat on the grill and unless this is some sort of dirty euphemism it means dinner will probably severely lack vegetables."
"Are you a vegetarian?" Castiel asked with sincere interest.
Sam huffed a laugh. "God, no. I can enjoy a good steak every once in a while, but I still need something green to go with it, you know? Dean doesn't understand that but I thought maybe you would like some salad with your meal as well. I bought more ingredients, just in case."
"That is very thoughtful of you, Sam," Castiel said, touched. "I was already faced with Dean's distaste for healthy nourishment on several occasions, so I appreciate your offer. I hope I can lend you a hand in the preparation."
"Absolutely!" Sam beamed at him before leading the way into the kitchen. Castiel followed, already feeling some of the strain and timidity leaving his body. The younger Winchester, much like his brother, was easy to be around. He quickly washed his hands and then moved to stand next to the younger man, waiting for him to unpack the items from the bag and eyeing what was on the counter. There were mangoes, avocadoes, lettuce and sour cream, all things Castiel knew could go very well together. Sam gave Castiel several tasks to work on while he explained where he had found the recipe. Castiel found that listening to the enthusiastic man was very calming.
"Does he often have people over?" Castiel asked as casually as he could muster while he kept his gaze focused on the fruit he was cutting into cubes. He hoped it was clear that his enquiry related to romantic conquests, not social interaction of platonic nature. Luckily, Sam understood.
"I won't lie to you. Dean's got himself quite the reputation here in town, especially with the girls." Castiel nodded, only partly successful in ignoring the heavy lump of disappointment and jealousy in his stomach. "You're the first boy-friend he introduced me to out of his own free will, if that counts for anything." The younger Winchester smiled encouragingly. Castiel's eyes went wide.
"I'm not…. We're not together," he corrected quickly. Much like Gabriel, Sam didn't look like he bought it, although he seemed much more respectful about the topic than his own brother had been.
"Did he tell you what his favourite TV show was?"
Castiel rolled his eyes and barely suppressed a chuckle. "I wish he had stuck with just telling me. He made me watch an entire season of Dr Sexy, M.D. on Netflix the other day."
Sam snorted. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Dear god, no. But it seemed important to Dean, so if he asks tell him I value the experience."
Acknowledging the request with a lopsided smile, Sam continued. "Does he let you shower first?"
Castiel shrugged. "Not always. We take turns. It's the fairest solution, wouldn't you agree?" As the Novak ran out of things on his cutting board he dared to look up at the taller man who was mixing the different ingredients together in a bowl. The younger Winchester paused in what he was doing and smiled to himself.
"And he's given you a petname, hasn't he?" When Castiel nodded, feeling himself blush. "Hm."
Castiel furrowed his brow. "What?"
Sam's smile widened as he turned. "I hate being the one to break it to you…. But you're Dean's boyfriend alright."
As if on cue Dean came strolling into the kitchen. He was wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and there was still a towel lazily thrown over his shoulders to prevent stray droplets from his damp hair to catch in his tee. Castiel was sure no one should be allowed to look this stunning in such ordinary clothing. The mechanic caught his look and winked before craning his neck to see what his brother had in the bowl. He wrinkled his nose.
"Are you trying to assassinate me?" he asked.
Castiel shook his head bemusedly. "Yes, Dean. Your brother and I were plotting your murder and decided it could best be done by having you eat salad. We were then planning to split the insurance in half."
"No one will ever believe I ate this out of free will. You won't see a penny," Dean played along, moving closer and embracing Castiel from behind. He pressed a kiss to the junction where Castiel's neck met his shoulder.
"I have a law degree, Dean. That can be persuasive," Sam joined in while giving his salad its finishing touch with some salt and pepper.
"Fucker." The insult was obviously directed at his brother but Dean mumbled it into Castiel's skin, nuzzling his nose along the Novak's neck until he provoked a shiver out of him. When Castiel made a noise of complaint he chuckled and pressed one last kiss to a spot where Castiel knew he was already sporting a faint hickey from another day. "Not my fault that you smell so irresistibly of sex, Cas," Dean murmured. "It's distracting."
The Novak rolled his eyes. "I beg to differ. You are very much at fault," he put down the knife still in his hand and wiped his fingers on his shirt. "But your message has been received. I guess it's my turn to shower." Dean responded with a lewd gesture which earned him the stink-eye from his younger brother.
…
The time passed calmly with Dean proving that he hadn't won the title of 'BBQ King of 2010' at Harvelle's Roadhouse for nothing, a couple of refreshingly cold beers and long stories of Sam and Dean's shared childhood in Lawrence. They were all three satisfied after a delicious meal and Castiel felt a slight buzz from the alcohol even while Sam and Dean still seemed unaffected. The three men were sitting outside in Dean's backyard. Sam occupied a white plastic chair that was slightly too small for his large frame and Dean and Castiel were cuddled up together on a chaise longue, the Novak's body snuggly fit against the other man's with Dean's feet on either side on the ground. It was comfortable and the night was warm, only a shadow of the day's heat remaining. This he could definitely get used to, Castiel thought as the Winchester's arms tightened around him, their fingers interlacing where their hands rested on his stomach.
"So how's Jess?" Dean asked after a small silence had stretched out between the trio. Immediately the younger Winchester's face morphed into a goofy expression.
"She's great. We're great. Her project at university is going great. It's all…"
"Great," Dean finished for his brother.
"Yeah." Sam smiled dreamily. "I know we're still young and all but I just know that she's the one. It's been like that from the first day we met. We just clicked and that's been it for me since then. Once she's done with school and I got a decent job… I think I'm going to propose to her."
"That's… that's awesome, Sammy." Dean's voice rumbled with emotion and Castiel felt the happiness radiating off both brothers. It was contagious and Castiel found himself unable not to be touched by the intimate moment. Not lastly because what Sam described didn't sound all that different from what he had experienced with Dean so far.
"I'm happy for you," he said, eyes drooping heavily even though he had taken an afternoon nap.
"Me too. For you guys I mean." Sam sipped at his beer. "It was about time Dean found someone worth keeping." The comment should have made him uncomfortable or cause a mild panic to rise in him but instead Castiel felt immeasurably sated and at peace with the situation, even more so when Dean squeezed his fingers and dropped a kiss in his hair. Only when he heard shuffling from a couple of feet away Dean nudged him softly did he realize how dangerously close he actually was to dozing off. "Well, unless you want to know any more embarrassing details from Dean's awkward teen phase I think I should be heading home," Sam declared.
"Oh please," Dean scoffed. "I never had an awkward phase."
"Everyone goes through an awkward phase, Dean," Castiel chimed in sleepily as he sat up.
"Yeah, I remember how you got all camera shy, emo-boy," the mechanic joked affectionately as he moved to get up as well, pulling Castiel into a standing position with him. "Sam suffered under his suddenly too long limbs and hasn't recovered since. His whole life is an awkward phase. It's almost tragic," he mused.
His brother rolled his eyes. "Dean, if you don't shut up I might accidentally tell Cas about Rhonda Hurley. And her kink." When Dean's eyes went comically wide, Sam feigned surprise. "Oops."
"Who's Rhonda Hurley?" Castiel asked, obviously missing the joke.
"No one," Dean ground out between his teeth.
At the same moment Sam said, "An old flame of Dean's."
And really, Castiel would have left it at that and forgotten all about it if Dean's reaction hadn't been to turn an almost crimson shade of red. "How do you even know about… that?"
Sam sent him a look that Castiel by now recognized as the infamous 'bitch face' and walked toward the door, closely followed by his brother and Castiel, who trailed after the pair like a lost and slightly intoxicated puppy. "You didn't even check if I was in my room or not that day, so I had the displeasure of hearing a lot of things I really, really could have done without."
"You mean… you mean…"
"Yes."
"Fuck."
"Exactly."
Dean groaned. "Little brothers suck."
"Love you too, jerk," Sam said cheerfully, pulling his brother into a bear hug which Dean accepted, signalling that he wasn't mad. To be perfectly honest, Castiel thought the mechanic deserved to be messed with every once in a while. Once Sam released Dean he moved over to Castiel, pulling him into a similar squeeze. "Welcome to the family, Cas," he said as he pulled back.
Castiel smiled warmly. "Thank you, Sam."
"If Dean gets too much of a handful you can always come and live with me and Jess," the younger Winchester called over his shoulder before he disappeared out the door and into the warm summer night.
Dean closed the door behind his brother and slowly turned to face Castiel, pulling his body into a loving embrace. "I told you Sam would love you, didn't I?"
Castiel's heart fluttered. "The evening went immensely better than I would have expected. Your brother is very nice to be around." After small pause he decided to add teasingly, "I can't quite believe the relation."
As expected, Dean sulked for a moment at the remark but quickly dropped the act and leaned in for a sweet kiss. It wasn't meaningful or passionate, just a small gesture that allowed Castiel to read the Winchester's utter contentment. The kiss was interrupted when a yawn snuck up on Castiel unexpectedly. Dean chuckled, kissing his forehead. "Looks like someone is exhausted. C'mon, let's get you to bed."
"We still have to clean up," Castiel protested weakly, already enchanted by the prospect of pillows, blankets and sleep.
"Nope, forget it," Dean said, steering the Novak straight to the bedroom. "There'll be time to do that tomorrow."
"Alright," Castiel agreed.
…
Of course once Castiel was snuggly settled beneath a mountain of bed sheets, head resting comfortably on Dean's chest, all his initial fatigue had ebbed down somewhat. He was still tired enough to sleep but as he rewound the conversations of the day he was faced with a question prickling on the tip of his tongue. After a long moment of debate with himself, he rolled onto his stomach to face Dean in the darkness. "So," he said, trying to make out Dean's features. "Rhonda Hurley." It wasn't exactly phrased like a question but he had no doubt Dean would catch the hint.
"Yeah," the mechanic said. "I can't believe Sam dropped that one on you, I swear until today I had no idea that he knew about it."
"And what exactly is there to know?"
"It's stupid. I was nineteen."
Castiel caved. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine," he said, pressing a kiss to the mechanic's chest, right over his heart. The fact that he felt it thump double time after the simple touch was gratifying, to say the least.
"No, I want to tell you, I'm just looking for a way to start without sounding like a perv." There was a long silence until Dean continued. "See, Rhonda Hurley was the kinda girl no one noticed in High School but that got smokin' hot, like, the second she went to college. One night, like I said I was nineteen, she turns up at the Roadhouse in the first summer after we both graduated. We start talking, I buy her a drink, yadda, yadda, yadda, we end up in bed. Turns out quiet little Rhonda is a total minx in the sack. And I was smitten, I tell ya. Guess I would've said yes to anything. But… the one thing she wanted most, apparently, was Dean Winchester to get into her panties."
"Wasn't that implied?" Castiel was confused.
"Literally," Dean clarified. "They were pink. And satiny. And… I kinda liked it."
"Oh," Castiel said as understanding finally washed over him. Then, for a long while neither spoke.
"That's it?" Dean asked. "'Oh'?"
"Well, what do you want me to say?"
Dean huffed. "I don't know. Are you jealous?"
Castiel thought about it. "No. Why would I be? That was a long time ago and now as far as I can tell it's me that you share a bed with and not Rhonda Hurley. However, if you were to wear pink panties again, I would be rather disappointed."
Dean's breath hitched so hard, he almost choked.
"Because I admittedly prefer you with no clothes at all," Castiel continued with a sly smile.
Immediately he felt Dean's relieved exhale. The mechanic moved slightly, pulling Castiel further on top of him. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning up until their lips met. Castiel hummed an affirmative into the kiss. "What a coincidence, I think I might have the same preference when it comes to you," the mechanic murmured between kisses.
"Considering that, it is remarkable that we are both partially clothed," Castiel said, already allowing one hand to wander down and past the waistband of Dean's sweatpants, the same pair that he himself had been wearing that morning. He wasn't particularly surprised to discover Dean was going commando.
Dean hummed appreciatively at the touch, tugging slightly impatiently at Castiel's tee. "We didn't end up having that make up sex I promised you," he noticed once the offensive fabric was out of the way. "I think that should probably be changed."
Castiel agreed wholeheartedly, feeling his blood rush downwards. He'd suffered the discomfort of unfulfilled pleasure twice that day, a third time would be lethal, there was no doubt in his mind. He growled and yanked at the sweatpants separating him and Dean. The mechanic lifted his hips, allowing Castiel to pull the material down his legs. His own pyjama bottoms followed suit and not a minute later they were finally laying together with nothing between their bodies but heat and desire. Their erections fit together perfectly, the friction even better than during their sloppy make-out session hours before now that they knew they had all the time in the world.
"You feel so perfect," Dean cooed breathlessly as he rolled them over so their positions were reversed. Castiel allowed the action, one hand reaching down to grab a hold of them both under the blankets to leisurely start jacking them off. For a little while they lay there, thrusting and moaning softly until Castiel decided he'd had enough.
"Dean, please," he whined, speeding up the movement of his hand. "Please, Dean."
Dean caught his fingers just as Castiel was about to finally release the pressure, the mechanic's fingers squeezing the base of his dick. Castiel almost howled his protest. "Easy, babe," Dean whispered, kissing his exposed throat. "Not like that."
"Fucking do something else then," Castiel grumbled, still fighting for composure.
"I love it when you swear, Cas," Dean praised, reaching for the drawer in his nightstand without his other hand drawing away from where it was still securely holding Castiel's member. He heard Dean rummaging around for a moment until he found the lubricant. "You were so strong today, Castiel," he said soothingly, the hand around his cock beginning a slow stroking motion. "I'm so proud of you..."
When he heard the familiar clicking noise followed by an unsexy squirt, Castiel spread his legs, already anticipating Dean's touch. It never came. Instead, Castiel heard Dean inhale sharply, the hand around his dick faltering mid-motion until it disappeared altogether. It took the Novak a moment to understand but the realization that Dean was very likely just fingering himself open for him came with a gust of arousal. "Dean," he moaned.
"Give me a little more time," Dean said with a grunt, "'s been a while."
Castiel wanted to tell him to take all the time he needed because he was perfect and Castiel couldn't wish for a better man in his life but he was beyond words, hips thrusting into empty air helplessly as he missed Dean's weight on top of him. Thankfully, Dean seemed to be in a similar state of impatience because a few minutes, which felt like half an eternity, later, the hand returned to spread lube generously over his member. Dean had used way more than necessary but Castiel didn't blame him. This wasn't something the Winchester allowed just anyone. "Enough," Castiel managed to get out.
Dean leaned down again, un-lubricated hand stroking softly through Castiel's hair before he kissed him deeply, tongue sliding obscenely in and out of his mouth. It was so distracting that Castiel almost didn't notice it when the head of his cock breached Dean. The mechanic hissed above him but it was not exactly a sound of discomfort. Inch by inch he sunk down onto Castiel until he was sheathed to the hilt. Time suddenly held no meaning. "Cas," Dean breathed almost inaudibly.
Since Castiel didn't yet dare to move, even though it took a large amount of self-control, he reached between them in search for Dean's cock. It curled against the Winchester's stomach, only semi-erect from the unfamiliar intrusion but Castiel swore to himself that he would soon change that. "Can you move?" he asked breathlessly. His eyes were long used to the darkness, it was easy to make out Dean's nod. The mechanic threaded his fingers in between Castiel's, looking for purchase, as he slowly lifted himself up a few inches, even more slowly sinking back down a moment later. The friction wasn't mind-blowing but after the day Castiel had had it was the most beautiful thing he had ever felt. Dean repeated the action, this time moving a bit further and clasping Castiel's hand more tightly.
"You just gonna lay there or what?" Dean asked, voice clearly less restrained than before. Castiel definitely didn't need to be asked for participation twice, immediately starting shallow thrusts upwards into Dean's tight heat. It should have been awkward with their positions reversed to what they were used to but Castiel found it was delightful.
"Wait," he said between panting breaths, stilling their motions. Dean stiffened with confusion for a moment but Castiel was quick to kiss the tension away while attempting to move into a sitting position against the bed's headboard. Dean understood and moved with him, the sensation odd when he didn't slip out and Dean clenched around him. It wasn't completely bad. Once they were settled more closely he was finally able to look Dean directly in the eye and see his pupils blown wide with pleasure. "Are you okay?"
Dean nodded, emphasising the confirmation with a kiss as he took up his movements again. To Castiel's glee the new angle seemed to be much better, at least judging by Dean's unabashed moan. "God, Cas."
"Although that's flattering, I'm still just named after an angel, Dean," he responded lightly.
"How- the hell- do you still have- the air to- fucking- joke," Dean complained, never stopping his rolling hips as he moved a hand to stroke himself.
After that remark Castiel gave up on holding back and began thrusting up in earnest. He knew that by the time they were done both their thighs would be burning with the effort of the position but it would certainly be worth it. Dean's little grunts of pleasure every time Castiel filled him completely were his motivation to pick up more speed. "Better?" he grunted.
Dean's head was thrown back in utter frenzy, his jerking movements slowly losing their smoothness. "Yes. God, yes, c'mon, Cas," he choked out, deliberately squeezing around his dick to spur him on. "Need you to come first."
Castiel's answer was to grab Dean's buttocks and pull him in closer so their chests were pushed flushed against each other. He was very close to letting go but before he did he wanted to make certain to have as much bodily contact as possible. The yelp coming from the mechanic in his lap told him that he had finally scraped that sweet spot he craved and Castiel attempted to find it again and again, one hand yanking almost violently at Dean's hair to seal their lips in a kiss, while the other joined Dean's frantic movements between their bodies. "I'm almost there, Dean," he whispered, not even sure the words were audible. "Let go with me."
That was it.
A second later he felt the burning knot in his abdomen explode into a million colours and he might have actually cried out at the pleasure washing over him. He was faintly aware of a ringing in his ears and something sticky and warm dripping of his fingers. Dean chuckled. "That. Was awesome." He carefully lifted himself off Castiel's softening member, accepting the tissues Castiel had grabbed from the nightstand to clean themselves up at least a little. They carelessly threw the used material off the bed and settled back under the covers. Castiel couldn't quite help but pull Dean in for another kiss, lazy and oh so happy.
"Sam said I was your boyfriend," he said quietly, not really sure why he felt the need to talk about this when he was in fact about ready to doze off at any given moment.
"Did he now?" Dean sounded amused as he stroked a hand through Castiel's hair. "And is he right? Because Gabriel wasn't."
"He might be," Castiel admitted shyly.
"Well, I guess you might be my boyfriend then."
"Okay," Castiel said, eyes falling shut while the butterflies in his stomach seemed to suffer from a mixed case of insomnia and ADHD. "Goodnight, Dean."
There was a soft press of lips against his temple. "Night, babe."
Leave me your thoughts in a review if you got a minute to spare and/or if you want to read more from this AU 'verse. My next plan would be Dean visiting Cas in New York. Thanks for reading x