The morning after so many important firsts, Dean woke to find himself completely cleaned up. Cas must have done it while he was sleeping. He noticed a slip of paper on the pillow next to him. He forced his eyes to focus so he could read the former-angel's nearly indecipherable scrawl: "Making Breakfast" was all it said.
As he sat up, he suddenly realized he ached all over; his arms felt heavy, his thighs were stiff, and even his neck felt sore. He stood up slowly, and not that he would ever admit it, but the same sort of headache he got from crying was creeping across his forehead. He stepped into a pair of boxers and made his way to the bathroom.
After relieving himself, he washed his hands and gazed in the mirror. Despite feeling a little crummy, he looked, well… amazing. The hardened scowl that had become his default in recent years had softened. His eyes shone brightly, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His lips themselves were full and pink, as if Cas had kissed them in his sleep.
He backed up, gazing at his torso before twisting to see his back as well. He had several small bruises along his hipbones, where Cas' fingers had held him. He touched the purple spots, but they didn't hurt. However, Dean realized they were a neon sign he'd been fucked, and vowed to find a shirt soon. He also noticed a rash where Cas' stubble had grazed him along the small of his back. The man felt like a walking brillo pad most of the time, but looked so sexy with the shadow that Dean rarely nagged him to shave unless he got closer to the beard that "hippie 2014 Cas" had sported. He opened the medicine cabinet and took out his razor.
After a quick shave and shrugging on a shirt, he was at his doorway when he realized he was wearing Cas' boxers. He changed into a pair of his flannel PJ bottoms and staggered into the kitchen.
Cas was bent over the counter, chopping fruit on a cutting board. Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and eyed Cas appraisingly: his hair (like Dean's) stuck out in a million different directions from sleep and sex; he wore a pair of flannel bottoms slung low, the faded finger bruises on his hips mirroring Dean's fresh ones; taking a page from his book, Cas was shirtless, apron tied around him instead. Dean noticed Cas' ever-present coffee mug was nowhere to be seen, and poured him a cup.
"Morning," he greeted, coming up behind him and sliding Cas the mug.
Cas laid the knife on the cutting board, resting his hands on the counter as Dean nuzzled into his neck. "Good morning," he murmured.
Dean kissed his jaw gently, hands coming around to pull him in closer. Those same hands wandered down, grabbing ahold of Cas and stroking when they heard a loud throat-clearing from the doorway. Dean quickly let go and stepped clear, spinning around to face his slightly traumatized-looking brother.
"Come on guys, not in the kitchen!"
"Kill-joy," Dean responded, pulling out Cas' chair. While Sam poured himself a cup of coffee Dean sat down, wincing quietly.
Sam turned, and was pulling out his own chair when he remarked, "Isn't that Cas' chair?"
"Is it?" Dean looked down, pretending to be surprised. "You want it back?" he asked.
"No, that's fine. I'm cooking."
Dean sat sipping his coffee as Cas made omelets. Once he'd plated up the eggs, bacon, and cut fruit, Kevin wandered in saying, "I think something's wrong with the door."
Sam's phone buzzed and he checked it, before leaving the room quickly. When he came back, he was standing next to Charlie.
"Uh…" Kevin began, looking at Sam confusedly.
"Right! I forgot – you haven't met her yet. Kevin, this is Charlie. She's-"
"Awesome," Dean supplied, grinning.
"Kevin? As in Kevin Tran, advanced placement, prophet of the Lord?"
"Yeah… that's me," he replied, looking somewhat embarrassed by Charlie's gushing.
"I was advanced placement too," she piped up, all smiles.
Cas stood at the counter, sipping his coffee and squinting at her. Sam noticed and seemed to remember himself: "Oh and Charlie, this is Cas." He gestured to the former-angel and Charlie's smile turned wry.
"Cas… Castiel?"
"Yes," he affirmed, gesturing a greeting with his coffee cup.
She took a few steps closer, so she could see him more clearly. "I was right, Dean. He is dreamy."
Dean chuckled a bit into his cup, and Sam grabbed a folding chair from the corner of the kitchen. "Please sit, eat. You've been driving for five hours straight, right?" Sam asked, concerned.
But… old super-computer!" she protested, as she edged closer to the table.
"Bacon first, hacking after," Dean insisted, gesturing to the spread of food. She sat on the proffered chair between Sam and Dean, and took the cup of coffee that Sam handed her. She took a strip of bacon and chewed thoughtfully, her eyebrows rising when Cas turned around, revealing his bare back.
"So shirts are optional in the bunker?" she joked.
Cas turned, realizing he was being addressed. "Oh… I suppose so. Am I making you uncomfortable?"
"Psshh, no I was just teasing. I don't even like guys that way." Sam caught the small deflated look Kevin suddenly got, but didn't say anything.
Cas' expression, however, remained unchanged. "Yes, I believe Dean referred to you as the 'LARPing Lesbian'."
Charlie gave Dean a look of approval, and nodded. "Guilty." She popped a strawberry into her mouth, and looked around interestedly as Cas sat down at the table, apron now folded over the back of his chair. As her gaze settled fully onto Dean for the first time that morning, her eyebrows rose in amusement. "Dean, did you start moisturizing or something?"
"What? No," he answered, confused.
"You just look really good."
Uh… thanks. All right, subject change," he ordered, noticing the strange way Sam was looking at him.
She reached for an orange section and asked, "So what's an angel doing in the Batcave?"
Cas suddenly looked very sad and couldn't meet her gaze. "I'm no longer an angel. My grace was… stolen."
She looked around: Kevin was pouring himself another cup of coffee, in no big hurry to get back to the table. Sam was cutting up the remaining pieces of his omelet, his eyes resolutely on his plate. Dean was looking between Charlie and Cas worriedly. "This may be a stupid question, but what's grace?"
"It's like an angel's mojo – it gives him his powers," Dean responded, as Cas took a sip of coffee listlessly.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized, realizing what a sore subject this was. "I didn't know."
Cas was quiet for a few more minutes, and then looked at her. "It's … all right. I'm adapting," he answered, and shot Dean a small smile. He took another sip of coffee and added, "I'm learning how to hunt so I may be of use."
"Hey, me too!" she exclaimed, excitedly. Suddenly, her eyes went wide and she whispered, "Oh, frack…"
"You WHAT?" Dean asked, anger rising in his voice.
"Just a little bit… Haunted comic store in Wichita."
"I don't like it," Dean stated, stern and overprotective.
"He doesn't like a lot of things," Cas offered and Charlie cracked up.
"BOTH of you, shooting range after this," Dean ordered, brow furrowed.
Cas unloaded six shots into the head of the paper target, while Charlie managed to make four straight into the heart. Dean shot into their targets with the Nerf gun Kevin had stashed in the corner of the room, making a "B" on Cas' target and a "B-" on Charlie's.
"Why does he get a higher score than me?" She eyed the two skeptically for a moment. "Is it because you sleep with him?"
By this time, Dean had stopped reacting around people when they inevitably guessed he and Cas were together. "Sam told you," he asked, more a statement than a question, and shook his head.
"No, he didn't. Hello?! Gay-dar!"
"Right," Dean answered, lips turned down in a look of confused agreement. He grabbed Cas' hand and pulled him to his side. "Let's do proper introductions: Charlie, this is Castiel. He's my gay thing."
Charlie whooped, catching the reference from the Carver Edlund series. Cas took his hand back, and retorted, "I thought we agreed on 'boyfriend'." Dean just winked at him, and Cas relaxed, realizing Dean had meant it in jest.
"Anyway, your last two shots didn't even hit the target. So, 'B-'. My grades are final."
"'Gay-dar'?" Cas asked to no one in particular.
"I like the same sex, so I can tell when others do, too," Charlie explained, and Cas nodded slowly.
"Why don't we have that?" Cas asked Dean. Dean just chuckled, and put the Nerf gun away.
"You're too new to being human, Cas. It's a… gut feeling. I think I'm starting to get it, a bit." He took the hand guns from his two apprentices, and checked the safeties. Then he put them away, and made a comment about needing lunch. He left soon after.
After the shooting range, Charlie hooked her heavy-duty gaming laptop up to the mainframe to transfer the data. "I don't know how long this is gonna take… Got a spare room?"
Cas set her up in the bedroom next to Kevin's, while Dean popped in momentarily to announce he was going on a lunch run. Cas offered to give her a tour of the Men of Letters bunker to pass the time. "So you've seen the viewing room, the living room, and the library, and you know where the shower room is," Cas thought aloud.
"What about you guys? Where do the rest of the men sleep?"
He took her to the hallway that contained Team Free Will's bedrooms, and pointed to the closed door at the end of the corridor: "That's Sam's room. He really hates being bothered."
"And mine-" he gestured to the one in the middle; Charlie noticed it was sparsely decorated and clean. "Though I don't spend much time in there…" he remarked.
He popped the door open to the room next to his. A small littering of boxer shorts encircled the unmade bed, and the nightstand drawer was pulled open, a length of condoms hanging over the side.
When Cas noticed the bottle of lube on the floor in plain sight, he closed the door quickly. "Please don't tell Dean I showed you his room," he entreated, while Charlie just laughed.
"Okay, I won't. Promise." He looked visibly relieved and proceeded to show her the dungeon, the armory, and the pantry. "So," Charlie quipped, "you guys have a lot of sex, huh?" Cas started in response, as he looked around worriedly. "I'm not Sam – I'm not gonna tease Dean about it," she explained.
He relaxed and replied candidly, "Tons. At first, I didn't think my human body would be able to withstand it."
He met Charlie's eyes, and she smiled at him, remarking, "Ahhh… Honey-moon phase."
"Oh, we haven't wed. It's only been 8 months."
"It's a saying," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Wow, you really do take everything literally. I know you're not hitched though – no rings." She swung her arms around exaggeratedly and continued, "Besides, if Dean had gotten married without inviting me, I'd have his head."
"For the record, I'm not actually a homosexual."
"I know, and neither is Dean. Bi people usually end up together, when indulging in 'the love that dare not speak its name'."
"I don't understand that reference." Cas squinted at her and cocked his head to the side. Charlie dissolved into a fit of giggles.
Once she recovered, she asked, "So, d'you and Dean have matching bruises?" She gestured to her hips and Cas actually let out a snicker.
"Uh, no. He's actual a very careful and conscientious lover. But I, uh, 'like it rough'," he replied vaguely. Charlie looked flustered for a moment and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Well, 'different strokes for different folks,' right?" He squinted again and she clapped him on the arm, as they headed towards the library.
"So, Charlie… haunted comic store aside, what've you been up to?" Sam asked, clapping a large leather book shut.
"Oh, you know… backpacking, shooting range, Moondor. Same ol', same ol'." Sam gave a chuckle and Cas wandered off, picking a copy of Shakespeare's plays off of a nearby table.
Kevin went to get a cup of coffee, realizing another migraine would start soon if he kept up the translation. "Dean gave me a 'B-'," she pouted.
"Oh yeah? It must be because he likes you. It took me years to get a 'B-'."
"Yeah, but Cas got a 'B'!"
He chuckled, shrugging as he replied, "Well, he likes Cas better."
"So… 8 months, huh?"
"Yeah… I'm hoping they'll settle down soon. They were feeling each other up in the kitchen this morning." Charlie laughed, snorting.
Her eyes went wide; horrified, she said, "That didn't just happen." She scampered from the room, cheeks burning.
Soon after, Dean strode down the stairs of the bunker, holding several paper bags. He stopped in front of the long table, and peered in the bags. He began handing them out: "Barbecue for the Twerp… Chicken Caesar salad for Sasquatch…"
He pawed through the remaining bags: "Chicken nuggets and side salad for Lady Moondor… Burger and sweet potato fries for Sweet Cheeks…" He continued to dole out food, while Cas looked around confusedly. Dean shook the bag in front of him and Cas took it, his cheeks growing hot at his new nickname.
"And a bacon cheeseburger and slice of pie for yours truly." The five moved into the living room, spreading out their food on the table. Cas sat down first, single-mindedly setting his meal on a plate and arranging his napkin. Dean went around, setting Styrofoam cups at each place setting. He sat down to Cas' right, tucking a napkin into his collar. Charlie sat down on Cas' left, reaching for condiment packets. Sam sat next to Charlie at the end of the rectangular table. Kevin settled in next to Sam, tasting his soda.
"This isn't mine," he announced, pushing it towards the middle of the group.
Everyone tasted their drinks, and Sam made a face. "What IS that?" he asked, switching drinks.
Shrugging, he replied, "Orange soda and iced tea." He smirked and replied, "Diet coke?"
Taking a sip of his own drink Sam replied, "Shut up."
"Oh, right!" Dean's eyes shone mischievously. "You guys don't know why Sam's a health nut."
"Dean…" Sam warned.
"Sammy here used to be chubby," he revealed, and both Charlie and Kevin's eyes went wide. "When he was sixteen, I finally let him get a job at a pizza place. Poor little string bean really packed it on. He didn't shoot up to tree height 'til a year later."
"Jerk," Sam snapped, taking another sip of his diet coke.
"Bitch," Dean shot back, winking at him.
Charlie and Kevin tried to hold in their laughter, but lost it when they met Sam's gaze. Cas just sat there disinterestedly, snacking on his sweet potato fries. He'd never understood why humans felt the need to mock each other's physical appearance.
Dean took this moment of distraction to reach his left hand under the table, and ran it up the inside of Cas' thigh. Cas' eyes went wide, but he was able to avoid giving anything away. He opened his legs wider, and busied himself with his hamburger while Dean ran his fingertips over the rapidly expanding bulge in Cas' pants. Cas wasn't wearing underwear under his pajamas and Dean could distinctly feel every ridge and vein under his thumb, the thin fabric leaving nothing to the imagination. His hand crept lower and he fondled Cas' balls, rolling them gently against his palm. Cas' breath caught momentarily and Dean froze. He looked from Cas' face to around the table: Charlie was staring back at him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Dean regretfully let go, mouthing a "sorry" at Cas for the blue balls he would likely incur. They both ate their burgers quietly, secretly vexed by this new pair of eyes.
Later that night, after a "Game of Thrones" marathon the two lay in Dean's bed talking. Cas rested in the crook of Dean's arm as Dean absently stroked the man's dark hair, content. "I like Charlie," Cas decided and Dean grinned in response.
"I knew you would. She's great."
"She's a very curious person," he added as an aside.
"Yeah, well, she's been gone awhile. Did you show her the dungeon? Man, I'm never going to get over the fact that we have a freakin' dungeon!"
"Yes. She seemed pleased with the tour. She was more interested in our relationship, though."
"Yeah? Probably just surprised I'm with a dude. Hell, I'm surprised."
"I confided in her that I like rough sex…"
Dean chuckled; "I'm sure everyone in the bunker knows that by now."
Cas cleared his throat, his eyes brimming with concern: "But speaking of, was I too rough with you?"
"Nah, I'm fine. A little bruised, but it's hard not to get carried away… I'll just cook with my shirt on."
Visibly relieved, Cas hugged Dean's chest. "But about that, is it cool if we hold off tonight? If both my ass and my hips are killing me tomorrow, it might be hard to walk." Cas nodded, and they fell asleep soon after.