Warning: This story will be somewhat graphic.
Dean was shell-shocked, sitting at the massive map table in the bunker with his head in his hands. It couldn't be possible. No way. Nope.
But something reared it's head in his mind, whispering Yes. Maybe. What if?
"Is it... really?" He whispered, lifting his head to gaze at Cas, Sam, and Jack, all sitting at the table looking as shocked as he was.
"Did we win?" Jack asked in his blunt, confused way.
"I believe we may have..." Castiel answered hesitantly, flicking blue eyes to Dean. "Dean, is Michael-"
Dean was shaking his head as soon as Cas said his name, predicting the question and cutting his sentence off before he could finish.
"Gone. He actually kept his word. Said he wouldn't dishonour our deal, but he would be back."
"I don't get it." Sam interjected, running a hand through his hair as he did when stressed. "There's gotta be a catch. Why would he leave his strongest weapon - no offence Dean. Any ideas, Cas?"
Cas shook his head, looking down at the table silently.
The four lapsed into silence then, pondering the days events. Lucifer was dead, killed by Dean using Michael's power. As soon as he was gone, Michael had vacated Dean, surprising them all. Naturally, they had expected the tables to turn and screw everything, like it always did.
But they'd had no time to think on that - in the blink of an eye they were back at the bunker, transported through space to sit around the big table. They'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop - yet an hour later, it still hadn't come.
"Well, guess we should count our blessings and thank Cas that we're back here in one piece." Sam broke the silence.
"What?" Cas started, confused eyes turning on Sam. "No, that, that wasn't me at all."
Dean looked at him sharply, eyebrows coming together in confusion.
"Jack?" Sam asked quietly.
"No."
"Michael?" Sam looked wary now, waiting for the shoe. "But...why?"
"It... could have been him, I suppose. I don't have the answer, Sam, I apologise." Cas answered this time, linking his own hands together as he worried.
They lapsed back into silence.
"Oh, screw this!" Dean suddenly burst out, standing quickly and causing the chair to screech across the floor, startling everyone. "You know what? We got a win. We won a battle. We might lose the war, or we might win, but either way we aren't fighting today. Today it's over. So I say we take the win, we go out, we have fun, and pretend the world isn't ending every other damn day."
His speech was met with silence as Sam, Jack and Castiel stared at him, dumbfounded. He was shocked himself, the speech coming out from somewhere deep inside him that craved for just one little break.
"I will follow you, Dean." Cas spoke first, blue eyes boring into Dean's green eyes with an intensity that was just so Cas
"Jeez Dean," Sam huffed with a laugh to break the intense atmosphere. "I think even Crowley would follow you after that speech. I'm in. Jack?"
"Yes, I think I would enjoy having some... Fun?" Jack answered with a slight question at the end.
"Fantastic!" Dean slapped the table with both hands, grinning from ear to ear. "We're goin out. Gear up, boys."
He left the room at top speed, heading for the bedrooms, obviously to get ready. The trio sat staring after him for awhile until the shock wore off.
"He's... Very excited, I believe." Cas commented eventually, confusion written all over his face.
Sam snorted with laughter, standing up. "Yep. You should know by now, Cas. He gets all excited, when we've won and it seems like it's all over - and then something comes and screws it up."
The grin fell off his face as he talked, leaving him staring at the other two with with a mixture of sadness and hope. Castiel, for his part, thought deeply about the comment. He decided quickly that he planned to do everything within his power to ensure that didn't happen, this time.
"Well. Perhaps we should take a piece of tree from his book and enjoy ourselves until then." Cas finally answered.
Sam laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder in a short but affectionate man hug as the three walked toward their respective bedrooms.
"Leaf, Cas. It's a *leaf* from his book."
An hour later, all four of them were sitting at the local bar. Naturally, that was where Dean wanted to go. Sam had protested at first, arguing with his brother while the other two were still getting ready. He had figured Dean had just wanted to find a chick and get laid - but his brother assured him that was not the plan, and while he was doubtful, he went along with it.
They were sitting around a table now, nursing their drinks in relative quiet. Dean glanced across the table at Castiel, who was studying his whiskey and coke with intense interest. He'd shed his trench coat for the occasion, and was wearing a sleek, dark blue button up, sleeves carefully folded up to his elbows. The top two buttons were undone, and Dean grinned as he remembered teaching him that particular 'fashion'.
He still had that messy sex hair, of course, but Dean didn't mind. He made it look damn good. Dean had to wonder what that hair would look like after the angel actually did have sex, and he was aware of a distinct desire to see it.
'Dammit Dean, what the hell are you thinking,' Dean asked himself, quickly averting his eyes as his cheeks flushed with his impure thoughts.
It was nothing new, of course. He'd often had those thoughts flitting across his mind, thoughts that were definitely *not* pure when considering the Angel across from him. Thankfully the battles they'd faced had pushed it to the background. But now they were back with a vengeance, and he tried to convince himself it was just because he seriously needed to get laid. With someone not-Cas, he added to himself quickly.
He opened his mouth to suggest that they all go play a game of pool - but something else came out instead.
"Cas. Come play pool with me."
Castiel and Sam both looked up at him in confusion. Jack just kept staring into his drink, oblivious in the face of the bubbles in his beer that captured his interest. Sam's face quickly changed to a knowing smirk, however, that kinda pissed Dean off.
He glared back at his brother, warning him silently. As far as he knew, his brother didn't know about his infatuation with Castiel. It was all a big joke around that whole 'profound bond' line that Cas had given them. But then, Sam always had a tendency for knowing more than Dean liked him to.
"I would be happy to play a game, Dean. But I fear I would not be a good opponent. I don't understand the game, or the rules."
"That's cool man, I'll teach you. C'mon." Dean answered as he stood, motioning for Castiel to follow him.
"Uh- hey, Jack, why don't I teach you how to throw darts?" Sam suggested.
Jack agreed compliantly, standing and following Sam to a different area of the bar.
Dean led the angel to the pool tables and, after fiddling with the machine, racked up a new game. He set to explaining the basic rules of pool while he picked out the best looking cue from the wall, passing it to Cas. He showed him how to chalk the end and, god damn if the Angel didn't make it look somewhat sexual. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.
"So," Cas was saying, snapping Dean out of his intense stare. "The aim is to hit that white ball, and try to get one of your own balls into a pocket."
"You'll be a pro in no time." Dean grinned and clapped him on the shoulder in a totally platonic manner.
"Who begins the game?"
"Well, usually we'd decide by tossing a coin-"
"That seems a very imprecise method, Dean."
"-but since it's your first time, you can break." Dean finished his sentence, ignoring the comment.
Castiel answered with a nod - Dean had explained what 'breaking the pack' meant - and walked towards the table, getting ready to take a shot. Dean realised very quickly how bad of an idea this was. Castiel had chosen to wear a pair of jeans that were a little too tight - exactly how tight became very obvious as Castiel bent over the table, then shifted to try to find a good way to hold the cue. Dean did nothing for a moment, staring at the outline of his ass in the denim.
"Uh, hang on a sec Cas," He said eventually, stopping the angel from taking what he realised was a very poorly lined up shot.
'This is a bad idea, a very bad idea..'
He moved closer, carefully manoeuvring himself into a position where he could guide Cas' arms. As it turned out he ended up to Cas' left side, knees practically straddling the angel's leg so that he had the reach to lay his arms over the top of his. He felt a shock run through the other male's body as his hands layered over the top of Cas' and tried to ignore it, holding barely an inch between their bodies.
"Okay, so move this hand to make a spot to rest the cue on..."
Dean curled his fingers over the top of Cas' left hand, moving both his arm and hand to a better position. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise and gritted his teeth, trying to breathe evenly.
He glanced around quickly, noting that none of the other patrons were taking notice of their odd position. Right. 2018. Liberal. Not, of course, that there was anything but friendly instruction in what he was doing.
"Hold the cue nice and tight, but leave your wrist loose..."
Dean instructed, moving his attention to the way Cas held the pool stick in his right hand. He couldn't help noticing the way the veins on Cas' hand stood out when he tightened his grip. He drew their hands back until he knew Cas would get a decent amount of power in his shot, then gently let go of the other's hand.
"Now take the shot."
Cas hit the ball, the triangle scattering with a loud crack. As he did, however, he shifted his weight to his left hip, closing the distance between them and causing him to brush against Dean's crotch. One of the balls went into the corner pocket.
"Dean, I got one!" He exclaimed with excitement.
Dean, however, had moved over to check the corner so fast Cas could have sworn he was capable of flying. The man had a slight flush to his cheeks and as he glanced at the angel, he could have sworn there was a knowing glint to the angel's eyes. Cas appraised him with his eyes, enjoying the sight of Dean less-than-confident.
"Right, so, you have the balls with more white in them Cas."
Now there was a slight smirk joining that glint in Cas' eyes. The angel knew he didn't imagine the shakiness in Dean's voice, nor the way the man shifted to ease the discomfort of an obvious erection. He pretended not to notice it, of course. He had played the 'ignorant angel' for so long that he had learned to enjoy it, and it wasn't time for this game of theirs to end just yet.
Dean shifted, trying desperately to think of anything that wasn't Castiel. That simple brush had sent delicious shivers through his spine and given him an instant erection that he dare not let Castiel see. To that end, he stayed on the other side of the table, watching his friend try for another shot and miss entirely.
"Oh." Castiel said, disappointment clear on his features. "I suppose I need more instruction on correct handling of the cue."
Dean coughed, the flush spreading to his neck as he read a different implication in Cas' statement. It was all he could do to nod silently, trying to hide his erection as he moved toward Cas. He had no such luck, of course, though he pretended to imagine the way the angel's eyes flicked to his crotch before passing the cue over.
He tried to focus on the game instead of the way Cas looked at him as he lined his shot up, leaning over the table. His breath caught, however, as he felt Cas' weight settle over him in the same manner he had done previously.
"Cas?" He queried, trying to keep his voice from betraying his roiling emotions.
"Yes, Dean?" The low, breathy words were right beside his ear, sending a shiver through him.
"What're you doing?"
"I thought I may learn better from this... position."
Nope. Nope. Nope.
He was definately imagining the suggestive hint in that last word.
"S-sure, man." Dean winced when his voice stuttered, and cleared his throat. "But Cas, uh... There's rules, dude."
"More rules?"
Was that laughter he heard in Castiel's voice? No, definately not, Dean decided, since Castiel surely had no idea what his proximity was doing to him. He was an angel for chuck's sake.
"Yeah, I mean, a guideline, really..." And why in hell was he allowing for interpretation? "Just that, when you're playing, you don't touch... usually..."
Again with the room for interpretation. Dean was positive he was sober, but with how low his inhibitions were, he decided it was a great time to stop drinking anyway. Throughout the whole brief conversation, they had remained pressed together - yet Dean felt a surge of loss as Cas moved away, even if it was only an inch. Cas left just enough space between their upper bodies that they weren't touching anymore, but only just.
"Is this better?" Castiel's breath tickled across his ear.
Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was keenly aware of the minimal distance between their bodies, and apparently his erection was just as aware. His dick was rock hard, straining against his pants, and he knew there was no chance of hiding it at this point.
So instead he took a deep breath, and as he let it out slowly through his nose, he took the shot - and missed. His jaw dropped in stunned silence as the white sailed straight past the ball he'd aimed for and into the side pocket.
"You missed." Cas' comment sounded as shocked as Dean felt.
"You distracted me." Dean bit back, moving directly from stunned to grumpy.
"Oh? How did I distract you, Dean?" Cas asked him, the air of innocence.
"You-Well, you... Nevermind. Your turn." Dean snapped, handing him the cue a little more forcefully than intended.
As Dean stalked away to get another drink, Cas grinned to himself. This down time they had was going to be fun, he decided. And he didn't plan on letting Dean slip through his fingers this time.
