Castiel pushes the sugar bowl closer to you after the waitress places the coffee mug on the table. You smile and mutter a quiet thanks as you slowly stir the drink in front of you. You can still feel Cas watching you but can't bring yourself to look him in the eye.
That afternoon you had tried your hardest to act normal, but your thoughts were chaotic. Things that would have seemed natural before were suddenly laced with hidden meaning and intent. When he caught your eye in the car, or when he touched your arm as he brushed past you. Did he ever do that before? Maybe he did and you never noticed. Before, you would have convinced yourself it was all in your head. That you were unnecessarily over thinking everything.
But he kissed you. Or you kissed him. Either way, there was a kiss. He said still thought about that night. Maybe those little glances and actions were as deliberate as they seemed. The truth was that you had no way of knowing how he really felt.
You can't help but feel relieved when you hear the diner's door chime. They're finally here. Sam is the first to see you, and walks towards your table. Dean follows after him with tension etched across his features. You imagine they had no luck at the sheriff's office; reaching the same dead end as you and Cas.
Sam sits next to you, placing a wad of files on the table. Dean slowly lowers himself into the seat next to Castiel. He jaw tenses and you will him to look at you, but his eyes are focused on his hands resting on the table in front of him. He doesn't move until the waitress comes over again. He and Sam each ask for coffee, but Dean adds a burger and fries to his order. Sam opens one of the files which has copies of various documentation: police reports, statements and photographic evidence.
"How did it go with Mrs. Lieberman?" Sam's voice pulls your focus away from Dean.
"Waste of time."
"What does she think happened to her daughter?"
"The cops told her it was a homicide, so that's what she believes. She had nothing else to tell us."
"Yeah, we couldn't find much either. The Jersey Devil seems to be covering its tracks."
Castiel's brow creases as he questions Sam. "What makes you so sure it's a Jersey Devil?" Dean glances at him from the side before looking ahead at Sam.
"Dean and I had to deal with one a few years ago. They're usually easy to track down but harder to kill. I'm surprised Mrs. Lieberman hasn't seen anything suspicious." He turns to you then, and you shrug in response. Sam rummages through the files and pulls out an old creased sheet of paper. On it is a sketch of the creature. "Dean and I are going to head to the morgue first thing tomorrow, so maybe you and Cas can go back there and show her this?" You look across to Dean again as you take the sketch from Sam. You don't miss the glare he throws at his brother, and then he looks away, the tension in his jaw returning. "Sometimes opening someone up to the idea of something supernatural makes them more perceptive to it."
Cas leans forward, conflicted. "You mean putting the idea in their head."
Dean turns his attention to Cas, but looks down at the table in front of him rather than at his face. "No. He means suggesting to the woman that she stop being so naive and start actually helping us find out what happened to her daughter."
The outburst leaves everyone in silence. Sam frowns as he looks at Dean, trying to read his face. Thankfully the silence is interrupted when the waitress comes over with the two coffees and Dean's burger.
"Very well." Cas confirms. "We will visit her tomorrow to discuss her naivety."
Despite the atmosphere, you can't help but smirk. Staring down at your coffee, you stifle a laugh that threatens to escape. When you look up, the small smile still present on your face, you see Dean watching you. His face deadpan and quite frankly, pissed off. Your smile quickly fades but you can't bring yourself to look away. Sam breaks the silence once again.
"We should probably head straight back to the motel after this. It looks like there's a storm coming." Instinctively, you look out of the diner window. The sky was a darkening grey. Your eyes fall on Cas sitting in front of you, he's still looking at the gloomy sky outside. You then turn back to Dean. He's still looking at you. It bothers you that you're unable to read him.
The next twenty minutes were agonisingly slow. Sam tried to make conversation a few times, but Dean wasn't interested. You were too distracted by Dean to focus on anything else, so that left Cas. You were able to pick up enough words to know that he and Sam were discussing the case.
When Dean finally paid the bill, you were the first to stand up. Not that you could get very far from your window seat. You just finished tugging on your jacket when Sam excused himself to use the restroom. You were the one to shoot a glare at Sam this time. Even more so when you realised that this left you alone with Dean and Castiel. The three of you hadn't been alone together since before that night with Cas.
You look around the diner. Looking anywhere except at the two men next to you. You notice a wall menu close to where you stand. You gesture to it as you speak.
"If I had known they served mocktails here, I would have ordered a Shirley Temple." Neither Dean or Cas respond. The silence made you even more nervous, causing you to ramble. "I used to have those all the time as a kid. Shirley Temples." You start fumbling with the zipper of your jacket; not that you ever wore it completely done up. "They're good." Cas looks at you then and smiles affectionately. At least he thinks your awkwardness is endearing.
Dean silently steps forward so he's stood in front of you and takes hold of your hand in his. He rubs his thumb over yours and when he looks down he meets your eyes. You're taken aback from the gesture. For a moment, you're feeling giddy from the unexpected contact. Then you realise this was more than likely not for your benefit. You would have probably pulled away first had Dean not already done so when he sees Sam returning from the restroom. You look back at Cas, who was still intently looking at the ominous weather outside. Finally ready to go, the four of you leave the diner and walk out into the parking lot.
Castiel reaches the Lincoln first and Sam raises his hand in a goodbye gesture. Dean walks on ahead but you linger to speak to Cas.
"I'll see you tomorrow when we go back to Mrs. Lieberman's."
He nods. "I'll pick you up from the motel." You give him a quick smile and continue to walk towards the Impala. "I'll remember to knock."
You look up at Dean waiting by the Impala. You're fairly certain he wouldn't have heard Cas, but your cheeks burn regardless. You turn to look back at Cas but he's already getting into his car.
Once you reach the Impala you slide into the backseat just as light raindrops begins to fall against the windows. The drive to the motel is wordless, but thankfully short.
Sam reaches the motel first and unlocks the door. The three of you walk into the room, with Sam heading straight to the bathroom. You hear the shower turn on instantly. Dean takes off his jacket, kicks off his shoes and sits on the edge of the bed. He rubs his palms against his eyes and then up and down the top of his legs.
You need to talk to him. You want to know what's on his mind, but you're tired. Still slightly annoyed about the scene at the diner.
"I'm just gonna go to bed." He looks up at you, but you're opening the joining door to the other room before he can say anything. "I'll see you tomorrow."
You close the door behind you and stand motionless in the room for a moment. With a tired sigh, you begin to shrug off your jacket. You bend down to pull off your shoes and then walk across the room to the window. The rain has become heavier and you're thankful you made it back when you did. As you draw the curtains closed you hear the door behind you open suddenly, then shut again just as quickly. You turn around to see Dean stride towards you. He pulls you into him and kisses you desperately.
You're annoyed at him. You're confused and upset that he would act the way he did. But he's kissing you and his hands are on you and suddenly that's all you can focus on. He turns you both and gently pushes you back onto the bed, without breaking the kiss. Lifting your body you help him pull away your clothing. He lifts your t-shirt over your head, then becomes sidetracked by the black lace bra you're wearing. You finish pulling the t-shirt over your head and unhook your bra with ease. He's quick to tug the material away from you and replaces it with his own hands. He bites his lip in appreciation of the sight of you. You tug at his own t-shirt then, and with a quick yank of his hand, it's over his head and discarded on the bed. You have already unbuttoned his jeans but his hands are on yours. Impatiently tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. He manages to pull your underwear down with them and it leaves you completely exposed to him. The way his eyes darken as he looks at you makes you smile. He's dumbfounded and turned on and you love that you have this effect on him.
When he regains focus, he finally kicks off his own jeans and underwear, leaving nothing but a thin sheet of air between you both. He kisses you softly, with less desperation than before. His light stubble tickling your chin. You try to deepen the kiss but he pulls away. Lowering his head, he trails his lips along your neck. Then he reaches your chest, kisses your breast and then covers a nipple with his open mouth. His tongue massaging the sensitive nub. You stretch out beneath him, riding out the sensation. When he moves his mouth away, you let out a disappointed whimper. The disappointment soon fades when you realise he's moving lower. Small, soft kisses across your stomach, down to your hip.
You bite your lip in familiar excitement. His breath feels hot against your skin. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider. A appreciative sigh escapes from Dean as he grips onto your hips to pull you down the mattress, positioning himself at the end of the bed as he does so. Your fingers run through Dean's hair as your urge him closer to your centre.
"You want something, baby?" You feel the vibrations of his voice against your skin and it's making you wet with arousal. As you gently pull on his hair to lower his face, you catch him smiling at your impatience. He then mouths your clit, deftly massaging it with his tongue. He's so fucking good at that. You try not to think about the logistics of him becoming so well practised. You just know that you're grateful he's using that incredible mouth on you. Dean Winchester. Fucking you with his tongue.
Subconsciously, you reach one hand up to cover your breast. Squeezing the flesh and lightly circling your nipple with your finger tip. The same way Dean would; desperate, arching your back, wanting for feel more of him. You need more. You sit up so you can watch him as he works his mouth over you. Your legs spread wider with your feet planted on the mattress. One hand is supporting your weight behind you and the other is still resting on Dean's head. He's breathing heavy and making a low groaning sound; like he's loving the taste of you. You can't help the soft whimpers that escape from you. The clear view of what he's doing to you fuels your arousal even more so.
He pulls away to look up and his green eyes look intently into yours. It makes your stomach knot. He's never looked at you like that before. There's something written on his face that you don't recognise. Kneeling up, he kisses your mouth deeply. He taste unfamiliar, a musk you don't recognise. You realise it's you. You're tasting yourself on his tongue. It makes you moan against his lips. He murmurs something between kisses, but you're too worked up to make sense of any words. You pull away from the kiss with a loud moan as you feel him insert a finger inside of you. With his other hand, he gently brings your face to his again, returning to the kiss. He slips a second finger inside and the added pressure against your inner walls make you instinctively cant your hips, aching for more friction. Just as you start to build a rhythm, he breaks the kiss and moves his mouth back to your clit. Your body begins to tense as your orgasm builds. Unable to hold yourself up, you lower yourself back down onto the bed, tangling your fingers in the sheets.
It hits you hard and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out. You can feel his grip on your hip tighten, trying to steady your shuddering body. When you finally become too sensitive for his mouth, you squirm beneath him. He leans back and you're taken aback by the sight of him. His hair is dishevelled and his lips glisten with your wetness. He keeps his fingers inside of you.
You're still breathing heavily. With each stroke of his fingers against your g-spot you feel the tension build again. You clench around his fingers and he mutters a husky "damn it" as he withdraws his hand. He stands up, completely naked at the end of the bed. Then with his hand, covered in your juices, he takes hold of his cock and strokes himself as he moves onto the bed. Positioning himself between your legs, he guides himself to your entrance.
Usually he would tease you; make you whimper and beg for it. Not this time. He watches himself as he pushes into you. Your eyes squeeze shut and your breath hitches sharply. He holds onto your hips in a firm grip and pushes himself in deeper. When you open your eyes, you see that he's straining. Torn between wanting to cry out in pleasure, and keeping as quiet as possible since his brother was in the next room.
He reaches out to you and you hold onto his shoulders as he pulls you up into his lap. One of his hands is tangled in your hair while the other grips your thigh. You wrap your legs around him and your hands are on his back; revelling in the feel of his flexing muscles and smooth skin. The position has allowed him to sink deeper into you and you have to crush your mouth against his to dampen your moans.
You begin to rock in his lap and it makes him squeeze his eyes shut. He lowers his head onto your shoulder as his breathing quickens. You place your hands on his shoulders as you move with more deliberation, and he grips your ass tightly, encouraging the rhythm.
The tension within you is still building and you know it wont take much more for you to come again. Dean lifts his head and you press your forehead to his. You feel his hot breath on your lips. Bringing a hand around to rest on his cheek, you kiss him again. This time, you gently take his bottom lip between your teeth. He kisses you back roughly and begins to thrust upward. The pressure makes you shudder as a second orgasm washes over you. You absently hear Dean let out a few breathy grunts as he then tenses with his own release. You feel his mouth against your shoulder and a sharp pain follows. He thrusts once more and then pushes you both back down onto the bed. Your arms are still wrapped around him, holding him in place. His face is buried in the crook of your neck.
After a while, the weight of him on top of you becomes too much. You wriggle beneath him, making him roll onto his back. Suddenly feeling more self conscious, and all too aware of Dean's come between your legs, you get up and head to the bathroom to freshen up.
As you wash your hands in the sink, you look up at your reflection in the mirror. Half amused at the sight of your tangled hair, you attempt to comb through it with your fingers. It's then that you notice the bite mark Dean had left on your shoulder. You trace a finger lightly over the bruised skin.
When you return from the bathroom, you see Dean asleep on the bed. You linger in the doorway for a moment, deciding to take the opportunity to admire him from where you're stood. His features are completely still; his full lips, slightly parted and his hair tousled. Fuck, he looks good after sex. Your hair is still tangled, slightly damp from sweat and you're becoming more aware of the dull ache around your inner thighs. Slowly and quietly you walk over to the bed and lie down on top of the sheets, facing Dean. His breathing is steady and soothing.
A bolt of lightening brightens the room for a second, and heavy rain soon follows. You lift yourself up to pull down the sheets underneath you, then pull them over your body. You settle back into the same position on your side, and look back at Dean. His eyes are now open, but heavy lidded. Neither of you speak. You just focus of the sound of the rain and soft thunder in the distance. Dean is still completely naked on top of the sheets, and you have to remind yourself not to gaze. When you finally speak, your voice is soft.
"Does Sam know you're here?" He hums in response. "Isn't he going to suspect something?"
His lip twitches. "Sam's not an idiot. He's figured it out."
You're not surprised. Not even embarrassed. A part of you wonders how long he had known for, but you have a more important question on your mind.
"What happened at the diner? You seemed… Tense."
"It doesn't matter." He closes his eyes. He's exhausted. Spent.
"Did something happen at the sheriff's office?"
He lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head. "Had nothing to do with that." He opens his eyes again. Looking up at the ceiling, he sighs and sits up on the bed. He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. You wait patiently as he gathers himself. Almost excited that he might finally open up to you. "I didn't know Sam had told Cas to go with you. He told me on the way to the diner."
"Why did that bother you?" You sit up and rest a hand on Dean's bicep. The movement causes the sheet to fall from your body, letting your naked form brush against Dean's back. He quickly turns his head to catch a glimpse of you but his view is blocked by the closeness of your bodies. With Dean distracted, you ask him again. "Is there a reason you didn't want Cas on the case?"
"It's not that I didn't want him on the case." Another bolt of lightening. This time you both look out of the window. You rub Dean's arm again, urging him on. It brings him back to you, and he sighs again. "I didn't like the idea of him being with you." There's a lump in your throat. A voice in your head chastising you for not mentioning the kiss. "Which is crazy, I know. I guess I just…" The thunder becomes louder and the rain heavier. "I guess I'm jealous of him."
You raise your eyebrow, surprised by his words. "You're jealous of him? After what we just did?" Your hand trails down to his forearm. "I'm sat behind you completely naked and you're jealous of him?"
"I'm jealous of him because he had you first."
"Well I didn't realise it was a competition between the two of you." It's snappier than you had meant it to be. He turns around to look at you again.
"That's not what I meant. I know he cares about you. You obviously like him enough to sleep with him." Suddenly feeling awkward, with Dean's words and his eyes on you, you reach out for the t-shirt on the bed. As you hold onto it you realise it's Dean's. You put it on anyway, avoiding Dean's eyes as you do. "I'm not kidding myself here." He forces a grin. "I'm no angel." That makes you smirk. You meet his eyes, expecting to see humour in them, but instead see something else.
Leaning forward you press your lips against Deans shoulder. "No. You're Dean Winchester."
A/N: You guuuuys, thank you so so much for your awesome reviews! I'm hugging you all right now. It's really encouraging and I'm so happy to know you guys are liking the fic! I'm planning on doing about 3 more chapters after this one. Also, the next fic will be more Castiel-centric.