Adam waited until they were all together on Saturday before he told them.
"I've got a new job." He said between mouthfuls of macaroni and cheese. He didn't look up but he didn't need to.
There was a clatter of cutlery as Sam put his fork down. He wasn't enjoying the lunch very much anyway. Meatloaf with macaroni and cheese. Adam had cooked so it was his choice what they ate but he could have at least included a side salad. Dean seemed fine with it since he'd smothered everything in BBQ sauce and was eating it with apparent gusto.
"Where?" Sam asked carefully. "You know you're taking on a lot of work, Adam. You don't need a part-time job on top of everything." He didn't want Adam failing school because he thought he had to chip in with the bills.
"At a club. I'm doing bar work. It's just a few shifts a week." Adam said around his fork. He swallowed, making sure there wouldn't be any chance either of them would miss what he had to say next. "You might know the club, actually. It's called the Candy Club. Apparently you guys went there."
Dean had been planning to eat and run, to shovel as much food into his face as much as possible and then dash out, get away from Sammy and Adam. He loved his brothers but sometimes with all three of them in the house he could feel himself going crazy. He wanted to go out and get a drink, do something. Maybe drop by and see Misha, see if they could get a drink after the set was finished. He'd been thinking about it for a while and he wanted to do it, he wanted to go out for a bit of fun. There wasn't any way they could really talk at the Club.
He wasn't even listening to Adam, but he did catch those last few words and he almost chocked, spluttering around pasta and barbecue sauce and reaching for his beer, trying to clear his throat before the tears welled up in his eyes. Fuck! How did Adam even know about that place? Dean hadn't known about it until Sam had forced him to go along and Sam only knew about it because he was doing that weird Pervert Course. How did a good kid like Adam find out about a place like that? Had he been there before? Was that where the make-up thing had started? Was that what was confusing him?
He'd have to find out later. Right now he had to deny every accusation and every slur against his masculinity. And in this case, it meant throwing Sammy to the wolves. "Sam!" He said, voice as shocked and appalled as he could manage, "Why the fuck would you be going there?"
"Dean," Sam said, giving his brother a withering look. "You are the worst actor I know."
"Yeah." Adam nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair. "And I know all about you going back and your reserved table and Misha." He grinned. He'd been planning this in his head but seeing Dean squirm was even better than he'd thought it would be. Pay-back for Dean and the way he'd treated Adam in the first place.
Sam raised an eyebrow, evidently surprised. "You went back? You said you hated it. Dean..." He wondered if he really had to tell Dean that Misha was actually a man named Castiel. He thought that Dean had understood that but now he wasn't so sure.
"Shut up!" Dean said, glaring at both of them in turn, getting up so fast that the chair fell backwards and crashed to the floor. "Shut up both of you! Just… just…" He began, unable to find the words, unable to see past the red rage. He grabbed his plate and his beer and he growled at them again. How dare they say he was like them, all weird and with their creepy fetishes. Dean didn't wear make-up and he didn't like guys and he was normal.
"I'm going upstairs. Sam- you can tell Adam that he can't work there." He said, and then he was gone, leaving the kitchen table and stomping up the stairs.
He wasn't up there long.
Only long enough to finish the bottle and pull on a jacket and some shoes. He hadn't got any appetite for food anymore. He needed to go and find Misha and they had to talk. The club wouldn't be open yet and they could talk. They had to talk.
"I'm coming." He shouted, setting down the bottle of nail polish on his bed side table. He was half way through painting one hand a nice shade of silver. He didn't do glitter like Gabriel did. He liked one shade of colour and since he only had one outfit he rotated between white and silver nails. Plain, pretty and they didn't get him hugely strange looks like pink nails would have done. He kept them short as well, not the stick-on talons Gabriel used or Lucifer's claw like blood red nails that he tended to so carefully. He climbed off the bed and padded down the hall. "One minute."
Castiel reached the door, blowing on the wet nails before opening up. "Dean." He gasped. Dean had been the last person he was expecting to see.
"Misha-" Dean began, and then stopped himself. "Cas." He wasn't sure what to call the creature in front of him- clearly male, in jeans and an old t-shirt and not wearing anything Dean had expected to see. But there was the proof that Cas was Misha, and Misha was Cas- the hair, the soft cupid-bow lips and the nails, neat and shining and Dean didn't know why, but he liked those hands.
"Look, we need to talk." He said, giving up on trying to work out what he should be calling the man in front of him. Cas was a man. Cas liked being called Cas. Not Misha. Misha was a stage name. But it was hard to remember that. Misha was the name he'd met the performer under and Misha was the name that came to mind when he thought about...
He didn't think about him. He didn't. Because that was weird. And sort of gay to admit that he might have been thinking about him. Even if he had been sort of thinking of him as more of a... her. It was the hair. And the mouth. No guy had hair or lips like that.
"You should have your hair cut short." He blurted out. And felt better for it. "You'd look less like a girl that way."
Castiel blinked, rather dumbfounded by that.
"Yes, Dean. I would look less like a girl if it was short." He agreed. "Is that what you came over here to tell me?"
Dean frowned, not getting the response he wanted. He needed to fight, god-damn it. Sam would have had a fight with him.
"If you're gay why dress up like a girl? Gay guys don't like girls. It's fucking stupid."
Castiel's frown grew more pronounced at that. "You already know the answer to that question, because I do it for my job. Did you come over here to tell me that you find me disgusting now?" There was always that danger getting involved with straight-acting gay men and Dean seemed strangely wedded to his opinions of what counted for gay and what counted for straight behaviour. "I don't have sex with girls, I want to have sex with men. That's what makes me gay. Not what I wear."
"But I'm not gay! I'm not gay and I like girls so stop dressing like a girl! You're confusing!" Dean bit back, unable to suppress it.
"You're not gay?" Castiel took a step back, shaking his head. "But you came on to me."
"Because you're attractive and you were in a dress!" Dean told him, "What was I meant to think? Look, I'm straight. That's it. No ifs, no buts, no maybes. You need to stop... stop doing all... all this!"
"Doing what? My job?" Castiel asked, hurt. He'd thought Dean liked him, that he was interested in him but apparently Dean didn't see passed the make-up and the hair. "You were the one who was interested in me, Dean. Underneath everything I'm still a man and you were still interested. Maybe you're not as straight as you think."
Dean set his jaw at that. "I am not gay. I am not interested in men, don't you get that?" He said, fingers flexing and he grabbed hold of Castiel, a fist full of the thin t-shirt fabric and pulled him close, eye to eye. He was not interested in Cas. He did not have the urge to kiss him. And even if he did kiss him, he wouldn't like it.
He had to prove that to himself. He had to. Then Cas would see it wasn't Dean's fault. It was everything Cas did to him. So he lent forward, pressing their mouths together, ready to be repulsed. He didn't even care if the door to the apartment was still open and anyone inside might see. He just had to prove to himself that he didn't want this.
Castiel had been expecting a punch, maybe for Dean to push him away but not for Dean to kiss him. His eyes widened and he shoved Dean off him. "What was that? Is that how you prove to yourself that you're not gay?" He asked, honestly frightened about what Dean might do next. Castiel could hold his own in a fight but usually he had had the back up of one of his brothers. He was alone in the apartment now and Dean seemed so angry at him.
Dean let go, letting Cas shove him away, stumbling a step backwards. He'd not expected to like the kiss, he'd not expected to feel anything from it but Cas' lips were soft and warm and a jolt of electricity had flowed through him, the warmth stirring through him and for a moment he just looked at Cas, trying to find the words. "Fuck." Was what he managed to say. It summed it up perfectly.
"Dean, I think you should leave." Castiel said, drawing himself up and trying to force Dean back through the door through a sheer show of will. He couldn't let Dean know he was intimidated by him, frightened of him. It wasn't as if Dean was the first guy who'd ever reacted badly when they realised Castiel wasn't going to give them what they wanted. "We both made a mistake. I think you should go before you make any more mistakes."
"Cas, I-" Dean began, letting the smaller, slighter man force him take another step backwards, still a little startled. "I liked kissing you." He muttered, glancing at the floor and then back at Cas. "I... I liked it. And I think like you. Okay?"
"Dean, I do not want to be messed around by someone who wants to experiment. I'm thirty, I've done that before." Dean might be attractive, nice even when he wasn't yelling and trying to force Castiel to kiss him but that didn't mean Castiel wanted to risk having his heart stomped on when Dean finished having this crisis and went back to women.
"Right." What did he expect? Cas to suddenly melt into his arms and swoon or something? Guys were dicks. He was a dick, Sam was a dick, all Sam's boyfriends had been dicks. What made Cas different? "So you don't think-" He began, something tugging in his chest.
"Don't think what?" Castiel asked, angry now. "You just told me you were straight, didn't you? How would I be anything but an experiment to you?"
"Maybe I was wrong!" Dean said, the anger rising in him again in response to Castiel's own. "There! I was wrong! I don't care if you're not in a dress I still think you're cute! Okay! I liked kissing you!"
"I might have liked it if you'd asked to kiss me first instead of just assuming." Castiel said. He grabbed hold of Dean's shoulders, pushing him up against the open door and pressed their lips together quickly before pulling back. "Did you like that? Do you like being pushed around by another man, Dean?"
With his heart pounding so hard in his chest it was almost impossible for Dean to answer. But he did like it, and he grabbed Castiel around the waist- feeling muscle and sinew there, and kissed him again, not answering but wanting the taste of that kiss again, the anger and the want and the heat throbbing through him.
That hadn't been the reaction Castiel had been expecting and he struggled for a moment against Dean. He'd expected Dean to storm off, to push him away and actually hit him this time but he hadn't been expecting Dean to like it. He'd not expected him to do it again."Dean." He gasped, breaking the kiss. "Dean, the door..." One of his brother's could come back and see him kissing Dean like this, angry and frustrated and wanting. It wasn't something Castiel wanted either Gabriel or Luci to see.
Dean could have asked if he was being invited inside. But he didn't. He pushed off the door, kicking it shut and fuck, Cas was right. Anyone could have heard them, caught them, seen them. But he didn't care. He was forcing his hands up, under Castiel's t-shirt, fingers tracing unfamiliar taut skin, finding those lips again and kissing him hard, unable to get enough.
Castiel was struggling to understand how they'd got from Dean berating him for not being a woman to the point where Dean had his hands up the front of Castiel's shirt and was kissing him like there was no tomorrow. If Dean had had a crisis it seemed to have been a short lived one and Castiel didn't trust that but he was finding it hard to concentrate, melting against Dean under the force of his kiss.
"Dean." Castiel groaned, head tipping back and he buried his fingers in Dean's short hair, fisting it as he fought for composure, Dean's mouth moving down his throat, leaving his lips tingling as the other man's teeth nipped at sensitive skin. It had been so long since he'd let anyone to touch him and even longer since he'd let them get as far as Dean seemed intent on going. "Maybe we should...my bedroom..." He managed, getting a hold of Dean's shoulder to pull him bodily forward. It had been the box room before Lucifer had turned it over to him and he'd stuffed it full of his things so there was hardly room to move but that didn't matter since the bed would be all they were after. He tugged Dean down onto the bed, trying to find a way to catch his mouth again as he did.
The kiss was messy, a clash of lips and teeth and tongues as the both fell onto the mattress, as hungry for it, as caught up in the moment as the teenagers in a crappy chick-flick. But Dean didn't care, and neither did Castiel as they sought a better angle, Dean forcing his way on top of the other and kissing him again.
"Dean. Dean. DEAN." Castiel groaned, pressing up, needing more friction then he was getting. He pushed Dean off him, the bedroom door was still open and he reached out, forcing it closed. "In case anyone comes home." He said breathlessly. He'd never realised before how many doors he needed to keep closed. He never bought men home and Luci never bothered shutting his door.
"In case anyone comes home." Dean repeated, feeling drunk, dizzy but okay with everything and so keen to keep going. "In case they catch us." He added, wanting to prove that he was still in possession of his senses, even if right then all he wanted to do was touch, kiss and keep touching. He was given ample enough opportunity, sliding his hand down Castiel's chest, catching hold of the hem of his shirt and then pushing it up, hand spread out as it moved, caressing as much skin as he could. There was a slight shiver, what Dean took to be anticipation, as Castiel raised his arms, letting Dean force the shirt off and onto the floor. There was no padded bra, not tissue-paper breasts, just the curve of ribs and dark nipples against pale skin, and Dean's hand stilled for just a second and Castiel felt his heart still.
But Dean said nothing, didn't tumble backwards off the bed in disgust. Instead, his thumb gently followed the line of Castiel's ribcage, before moving up to ghost over a nipple, feeling it pebble under his touch. It made a tingle run down his spine and he let his eyes fix on Castiel, leaning down and letting his tongue tease over the nub, flicking against it as Castiel's breath coming out in unsteady, uneven pants , goose-bumps peppering his skin and his muscles tensing in a wave of pleasure. Dean liked the reaction, sealing his mouth around the dark circle, sucking briefly before pulling back, "Like that?" He muttered, getting off on the ego trip as much as anything else, feeling the uncomfortable press of his cock against the front of his jeans.
"Yes." Castiel nodded in affirmation. "I like that, Dean." His voice was rough, low and husky and he bit his lip, uncertain that that wouldn't make Dean bolt. Dean was good with his mouth but Castiel had the feeling he'd gone straight for his chest because that's where he would have gone with a girl. It was working on Castiel though, his body aching with need and arousal and his lower lip swollen from his nervous chewing as well as Dean's kisses.
The deep voice was not what Dean was expecting, and although he liked dirty talk, the words in his throat died when Castiel replied. It was easier to keep his mouth occupied, kissing and nipping at the other's chest, moving down the line of his breast bone. He could already feel Castiel straining, his hips pressing forward and that was sort of, well, terrifying. There was going to have to come a time where he stopped delaying and either ran out the door or did something.
Castiel managed to sense the hesitation, but Dean knew he was broadcasting it loud and clear. "You don't have to do anything you don't want." The blue-eyed man breathed, heart still pounding. "If you want, I can just touch you." He glanced down, the outline of Dean's hard cock evident in his jeans and that at least told him Dean liked some of what was going on.
Clearly that sounded like a much much better idea to Dean. He lent back, hands still at Castiel's hips, looking over that pale expanse of chest and then down at the long fingers- the nail varnish smudged and Dean didn't know why, but he liked that. He liked Castiel with his lips swollen, his hair messed up and his clothes tossed carelessly away. "Yeah... yeah, I'm good with that." He said, lips twisting into a soft smirk, dick twitching with want. "I'm really good with that right now." And Castiel could see the need in Dean, pulling away and settling between Dean's thighs, kneeling on the floor. He reached out and palmed the bulge in those old, faded jeans; Dean's cock was hot and hard and that proved whatever Dean thought he was or thought he liked he could get it with a guy. It only took a moment to free him from his jeans, to pull that aching cock free. Leaning in he pressed his lips to the head of the shaft, butterfly soft.
Dean was watching him, eyes bright, keen. But they closed almost completely as Castiel's hand curled around him, as his breath ghosted over his cock, a long sigh of pleasure leaving his throat, hips bucking up. "Damn, Cas..." He managed, gasping as Castiel's lips closed around the head of his cock.
Castiel liked that reaction, inching closer and taking the rest of the length into his mouth. He should have asked Dean about condoms, about if he had anything but all of this had been so rushed and Castiel knew he was clean. He could only hope that Dean was the same. He bobbed his head, letting Dean's cock slip from between his lips and then taking it back again, the head of Dean's cock brushing the back of his throat.
Dean wanted to watch, wanted to see Cas move, but he couldn't, his head tipping back as a pleasured growl rumbling from his throat. It was impossible not to like this- the heat around him, the friction of Castiel's lips stretched around his cock. He couldn't stop his hips from rolling forward, trying to press deeper, trying to bury himself balls deep and his grip tightened on Castiel's shoulder, nails leaving half-moons in his skin. It hadn't been that long, for him at least, a week or two but he didn't know how long he was going to last long; he could already feel the heat welling in him. But he wanted to drag the inevitable out just that bit longer.
And then Castiel moved again, and Dean couldn't hold himself back any longer, couldn't delay it. It was all he could take, Castiel's mouth around his cock, sucking on him, hot and wet and tight and incredible and "Oh fuck, Cas, I-" Dean began, voice a little broken as his hips bucked up of their own accord, every muscle tightening, his toes curling in his shoes and his breath leaving his body in a half-groan, coming in Castiel's mouth before he could even think of trying to pull himself away.
Castiel gasped, inhaling a mouthful of Dean's come and he pulled away quickly. He made a concerted effort to swallow but he still hadn't been expecting it but he licked at the corners of his lips, aware a trickle had escape down the side of mouth. He glanced up at Dean, still painfully hard himself, unsure what Dean was going to do now – if he was going to leave or what he wanted.
"Dean." He murmured, his throat wrecked, voice gravel deep. He was never going to be able to sing tonight now. Not that he cared much now, not with his own arousal ignored, Dean's eyes fixed on him. Not that Dean seemed aware of the intensity of his gaze, the way his attention was focused on Castiel's flushed face, the way his tongue lapped at the corner of his mouth. It was hot, fucking hot. He didn't know why that surprised him, but there was something about Castiel's voice, the need in it that Dean couldn't resist. He pulled at him, trying to force him up, wanting his hands on Castiel now, hand groping at the straining cock pressing against the front of the man's trousers.
"Dean." Castiel groaned, hips snapping forward, trying to get more of the friction Dean offered him. He didn't want Dean to force himself, didn't want him to regret this but Dean seemed pretty eager and Castiel was just a man. He had needs and wants and it had been a long time since anyone had touched him like that. It was clear Dean knew that need.
There were times when friction just wasn't enough, when you needed more than you were getting. Dean just thought it wast weird to see it in the face of another guy, to feel that want reflected in someone else's expression, in someone else's voice. And while it felt like there was this stiffening in his chest- this sudden fear, he couldn't just stop.
He couldn't.
He moved his hand, forcing Castiel's trousers open, pushing his hand into the sudden heat, Castiel's hard cock so much more real when there was only the thin fabric of his underwear between him and Dean's hand.
Castiel reached out, fingers sliding through Dean's short hair, nails scratching over his scalp as he fought for something to grip on to. He closed his eyes, breathing hard and rocked his hips upwards. "Oh." He gasped, the sound soft in his throat.
This was the definition of gay, more so than letting Cas suck him off or kissing him. Dean couldn't make up an excuse for why he was touching another man's cock but he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. The way Cas was moving was sort of addictive- Dean had always liked being the one bestowing or withholding pleasure and it seemed like now was no different. The way Cas clung to him, the urgent movement of his hips made Dean feel half-hard again. He forced Castiel's boxers down the rest of the way then, coiling his fingers around the cock that jutted out, obscenely hard and red, wet at the head, stroking it to coax another groan out of the other man.
"Dean." Castiel gasped again. It felt like the only word he knew how to say, the only word he could remember and he was so frightened that any moment Dean was going to pull away, that he was going to take a good look at what he was doing and who he was doing it with a decide that this wasn't for him. Castiel wanted to hold back, he wanted to be good for Dean so he wouldn't scare Dean away but all he could do was thrust his cock into Dean's hand, needing more from him than nervous fingers.
Dean's fingers found their pace and tighten, jerking at the throbbing cock in his hand. Castiel was beautiful and desperate, he wanted to come and Dean's light touch was only going to tease him and that just wasn't going to hit the spot, no matter how much Castiel writhed up against him. He stroking again, grip firm and his thumb slid over the underside of Castiel's erection, following the line of heat to the head, feeling the slickness there. "Gonna to come for me?" He had to ask, tongue thick in his mouth.
Castiel didn't know how he still had enough blood left to manage a blush with his cock throbbing as hard as it was, demanding all of his attention but he did, his cheeks heating up at Dean's words. He licked his lips, nodding and forced himself to reply, voice hitching as Dean's thumb rubbed across the head of his cock and Castiel felt it all the way inside of him, a deep spike of pleasure. "Yes." He said, fingers clenching and unclenching. "Yes!" He cried out again, his hips thrusting forward and that had been all he'd needed, for Dean to take control and he couldn't hold it any more, coming over Dean's hand in great spurts.
Dean gasped, swallowing down as much air as he could and letting himself feel the lazy heat spread through his limbs for the first time since his own orgasm, wanting to just lie back against the comforter and catch his breath. "So, you liked that, huh?" He asked, uncertain of what to say. He wasn't really a pillow-talk sort of guy, but he guessed he couldn't fasten up his jeans and run away. Even if that was what he felt like doing. Now the rush was over what he'd done was suddenly dawning on him.
Castiel nodded breathlessly, tucking his spent cock back inside his pants and zipping them back up. He suddenly felt strange and exposed and he watched Dean's face, trying to calculate his next move. He didn't feel anything but nervous now. The orgasm had done nothing to take the edge off. He sunk down onto his bed beside Dean, thumbing at the edge of the bedspread. "What happens now?" He asked, licking his lips, still able to taste the other man on them and he tried to plot what had had happened back in his head but when he unravelled it it didn't make sense. He'd just been caught up in the moment, caught up in Dean.
Dean didn't know what to say, the smile he'd worn falling slightly. But as Castiel moved against him, Dean couldn't help but move and curl his arm around him, pulling him close. It was a movement he was used to, pulling whatever girl he had spent his night with up against him, feeling sleep pull at him. But he didn't feel sleepy right now, no matter how good Castiel felt pressed against him.
He swallowed, tongue moving over his dry lips, "That depends... how long till you're on stage?"
"In a few hours." Castiel murmured, he'd need to drink a few glasses of water and rest up a bit before then. "I shouldn't have done that." He added, annoyed by how wrecked he sounded and he knew that was because of Dean, because of getting on his knees for Dean but he'd wanted to at the time. It had seemed like a good idea. Now he wasn't so sure.
"I meant afterwards, Dean. You and me…what happens next?" He repeated the question again, needing to know what the answer was. He'd always been good. He'd always been in a relationship before he had sex and he'd never had wild, unprotected sex with a man who professed to hate things about him. Or at least he hadn't before Dean Winchester.
"You've been tested, haven't you?" He asked, trying to make it sound casual and failing.
Dean blinked at the ceiling, deciding not to look at Castiel for that moment. He heard the mutter, the distinct regret in the way the other male lay next to him, sort of rigid on the sheets. Dean couldn't help him. He'd had moments like this before. Slept with the wrong person, at the wrong time. Never with a guy though. That was a new one.
And okay, he knew about testing. Normally though, protection was enough, wasn't it? "Er-" He began, cursing himself that he didn't sound more confident about it. "I- Not for a while." He admitted, glancing at Castiel and meeting those big blue eyes again. He had condoms. He always had some, stuffed into his wallet. He just hadn't thought about them. And this was Cas' bedroom. He must have had stuff there. If he wanted more-
Dean shut his eyes, finding it near impossible to believe where his mind had just ventured, almost without him realising. He was not about to have sex with a guy. Jerking off and blow jobs were one thing, but sex was something else. He wasn't ready for that.
"We didn't use anything when I…" Castiel said, chewing at his bottom lip, searching for a delicate way to put it but eventually there wasn't any better term them just the outright truth. "When I blew you. And I swallowed." He looked up at Dean, willing him to suggest that he get himself tested so Castiel didn't have to go through the embarrassment of suggesting it for him. Castiel always went, every six months, even if he wasn't with anyone just to check, just to be certain. He'd make an appointment now for a check-up a little sooner than he was due.
Dean had ignored his earlier question, purposefully misunderstood it and Castiel knew what that meant. It meant that Dean went home and chalked this up to being Castiel's fault because he'd confused him and then Dean stopped coming around. Already Castiel was curling away from Dean, feeling used by him. He'd thought when Dean had touched him it meant something, maybe that it meant Dean was getting over his fear but that didn't seem to be the case at all.
"Cas!" Dean said, rolling his eyes privately as the boy moved away from him, curled into himself with his back against Dean's side and that wasn't fair. This was a big thing, a big thing for Dean anyway, what did Cas expect? A proposal? That just wasn't going to happen. Dean had to have time, needed time to feel more like himself and to know what was happening. He needed to understand what he'd just done.
He sighed, gently. He wasn't going to make the situation any better if he freaked out. He'd known what he was doing, he had to deal with it. "Sorry Cas, I should have thought about that. I got... I got sort of caught up in the moment." He managed, hand moving to stroke Castiel's side. This was like a scene from some fucking rom-com or chick flick but maybe that was the way these things were meant to go. Not that he knew how these things happened. He didn't watch chick flicks.
"Look... maybe, if you've got a couple of hours... why don't we get washed up and... I don't know, go grab something to eat? Together?" He offered.
Castiel relaxed a little as Dean touched him. He didn't want to be so easy, but he liked the way Dean touched him. He closed his eyes even so and forced out the words stuck in the back of his throat. As good as dinner might sound, as good as that hint of a future Dean was offering him sounded, he couldn't just allow himself to roll over and get caught up in Dean.
"Would you get tested?" He said, opening his eyes to fix them on the wall in front of him, not looking back at Dean because he couldn't. He couldn't let himself just roll over and do what Dean would want, take the easy way out without facing facts.
"Yeah, of course I'll get tested." Although why it was such a huge deal for Castiel Dean didn't know. Dean would know if he wasn't clean, right? These things were noticeable. But he'd go to a clinic. There wasn't any harm in it. And if he wanted to see Cas again...
He stopped, and blinked, glancing side-long at the other's back for a moment. Dean knew what he was. He was a relaxed, casual, once-was-great-thanks kind of guy. A straight sort of guy.
But seeing Castiel again, offering to take him out to dinner, none of that was straight. But... well, he guessed he didn't really care. Sam and Adam didn't have to know.
He shifted then though, moving closer to the slimmer man's back, coiling an arm around his middle. He would have thought Castiel was the cuddling type. Cute gay guys liked that, or so he assumed, and he was sure Cas was no different.
It was such a simple thing to say. A very easy thing to say, an easier thing to lie about but Castiel didn't think Dean was lying. He meant it, that he'd go to a clinic and get tested, like he'd been asked. Like Castiel had asked, because it meant something. Castiel rolled over, winding his arms around Dean's shoulders, hesitating only a moment before he kissed him. He didn't know if Dean was going to be the sort of man who got upset with the idea of kissing someone who'd just gone down on him but Castiel was going to chance it. But Dean didn't pull away, only making a small, startled noise before kissing back.
Castiel almost didn't believe it. And as much as he didn't' believe it, he didn't want it to stop, but even so, he wasn't finished with Dean just yet. "We will have to use condoms until the results came back." He said, drawing away and licking his lips thoughtfully. He held his hands up, frowning. "And I've got to do my nail polish again, Dean."
Dean had to go eventually, before Cas' brothers got back. Besides, he'd been gone long enough for Sam and Adam to start leaving voice-mail on his phone- and while Adam still sounded pissed enough not to really care where Dean had got to, Sammy was beginning to sound more and more frantic. He'd given them enough time anyway, enough time to cool their heels and apologise to him that Dean felt it was time to go home now. He left the Impala outside in it's usual space and headed in, trying to wipe the satisfied grin off his face and keep the swagger out of his walk, opening the front door as quietly as he could and slipping off his coat. If his brothers still thought he was pissed off with them then the apology they'd make would be even better.
After all, Adam didn't need a job. He especially didn't need to work in a bar. In a weird fetish club either. Whatever Dean and Cas just had, or hadn't done, didn't change the fact that it wasn't the place for Adam. No way, no how.
Adam was sitting on the stairs, head in his hands and he frowned at Dean when he opened the door. "Where have you been? Sam's been worried sick about you. He's made me sit here and keep watch for you." He turned round and shouted up the stairs. "SAM! He's back!"
A moment later Sam appeared at the top of the stairs, sighing in relief as he saw Dean down at the bottom of the stairs. "I've been calling you. Did you have your phone off?" He asked, frowning as he came down the stairs, shoving Adam aside so he could look at Dean properly. "Are you still upset? Adam and I have been talking about the job offer he got."
"Yeah, we have." Adam said, standing up.
"And he's going to take the job." Sam finished, watching Dean's face worriedly.
Dean stepped back far enough to look at Adam, and then Sam, his jaw tightening. They were assholes, both of them. He should have been aware of all of this, should have known. They'd not apologise, but they'd make plans as soon as his back as turned, conspiring against him. And he'd been sure they'd feel guilty. But he didn't have the energy to be angry just then. He couldn't fight anymore. "Yeah? Great." He said, as sarcastically as he could. He didn't want Adam at the Candy Club. Even if it might give him more excuses to see Cas. "Whatever I say isn't going to change anything, I guess. So when do you start? Need a lift?"
"Monday." Adam said. He glanced across at Sam, not convinced by Dean's sudden change of heart. "No, it's fine. I can get myself in." He said, turning and head back up the stairs. Whatever Dean was thinking Adam didn't care. He was going to do what he wanted and Dean would just have to accept that.
Sam waited until Adam was out of sight before he spoke. "What's this about, Dean? Where did you go? I was expecting at least some sort of fight." He frowned slightly, holding his hands up. "Don't think I'm not happy that you're not fighting this but this isn't you." He sniffed the air, his frown deepening. "You haven't been drinking."
Dean glanced at Sam, raising an eyebrow as his other brother sniffed at him, the expression on his face less than pleased. The sniffing thing was sort of gross, and maybe if Sam didn't smell booze, he'd smell sex and that was a conversation Dean didn't feel like having either. "Thanks. I could have told you that."
He slipped past his brother, towards the kitchen. He had been going to get a beer but decided against it, stepping into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out the fridge. "I just went for a walk. You know, outside. Clear my head." He said, although he doubted Sam would believe that either, but maybe he'd drop the subject.
"And I'm not happy with him working there. Or working in any bar. But he's old enough, and if he wants to do it, he can do it." He said, before taking a long swallow from the water bottle and letting his gaze rest on Sam. "We did enough stuff Dad hated, and we're okay. Maybe it will do him good. I caught him putting on makeup the other day."
"Yes, he mentioned that." Sam said, running a hand through his hair and following Dean into the kitchen. "Do we have to have a word about what's appropriate and what's not when it comes to things you say to Adam?" He didn't really want to deal with this, not to have to patch up another argument between his two brothers but Sam couldn't exactly let Dean make Adam feel unwanted or worse, as if there was something wrong with him. "Maybe you should come and sit in on my lectures?" He suggested. "You might learn something, Dean." Even though Sam was certain that invitation was going to be turned down straight away he still made it. It was better to reach out to Dean. He just needed a little bit of time, Sam was sure. Eventually he'd get used to it like he'd got used to the fact that Sam went out with both guys and girls.
"I'd say the same to you if you were the one I caught putting on make-up." Dean had to point out. He wasn't going to treat Adam like a special snow-flake because he was the youngest or because they didn't share a mother. Adam was his brother, so was Sam, and he treated them the same way. Or at least he thought he did. Maybe he was a little more conscious of Sam, if only because he'd known him all his life, he'd always been there to look after him, he knew what buttons to press and how to manipulate him. He didn't know Adam quite so well. Not yet anyway.
But even if he would have said the same thing if he'd found Sam trying on make-up and not Adam, it didn't matter. He sighed, and leaned back against the counter, looking at his brother and setting the water down. "You know I can't take time off, Sammy. And I wouldn't get half of what your professors talk about. But thanks for the offer."
"Look... I didn't mean to upset Adam. I just... it's weird. I know you don't think so, but it is." He said, and then memories of Cas filled his head, sent a trail of comforting warmth down his spine that seemed to pool in his soul. "But he's not hurting anyone, and I get it. If he wants to, that's fine. I just don't want him to get hurt. Kate will kill us if he does."
"Yeah," Sam said, patting Dean on the shoulder. He hadn't expected his brother to say anything different but even so it still hurt a bit. Dean could have taken a chance to grow but in the end Sam knew he preferred staying ignorant.