Dean's heart was racing, still sending electric jolts toward his crotch, as he staggered around the Italian restaurant. He was trying to find an exit, but his mind was kind of blurry from the amazing blow job Cas had just given him. Where the hell did that angel learn how to suck cock like a porn star? And how did he take the whole thing without choking?
As Dean pondered the wonder of Cas's skills, he finally spotted a door near the back of the room. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching, before shoving his way outside. He was suddenly standing in an tight alleyway, between the restaurant and another tall building. Cars rushed by at the end of the alley to his right and a chain-link fence barricaded the end to the left. The long space was fairly lit, too, having the noon sun almost directly overhead. Dean scanned the tiny alley, his lungs straining to keep up with his heart.
"Cas," he almost croaked, his voice echoing up the brick buildings, "Where are you?"
A hand fell on Dean's shoulder. The man was spun around and shoved against one of the brick walls before he even had time to gasp. Two heavenly, giant blue eyes were suddenly staring him in the face. Cas was nearly glowing in the sunlight as he pawed at the front of Dean's clothes, mouth open and breathing harshly. Dean swallowed hard at the sight of pure arousal on Cas's face. Damn, he looked fiercely horny. And the sight made Dean's dick twitch.
"I'm here," the angel nearly groaned, pressing their fronts together, "I waited for you."
Dean couldn't hold back. His mouth instantly lunged forward, meeting Cas's with a clash of teeth. A small whimper slipped from the back of Dean's throat, vibrating their kiss. Oh God, that feeling was so strong in his chest, now. It felt like his heart was swelling behind his ribs; ballooning with raw emotion. It was pulsing through his veins like warm whiskey; numbing his limbs and dulling his thoughts. And he loved it. Whatever the hell this feeling was, Dean didn't want it to go away.
"Mmm, Cas," Dean whimpered, tugging at the angel's trench coat.
Just saying his damn name made Dean's heart inflate. Cas's lips moved from the man's mouth to his neck, planing kisses all over the edge of his jaw. Their hands were all over each other; caressing and groping and pulling at clothes. Dean felt that Cas's dick was already hard against his pants. Maybe he'd been hard the whole time he was giving that damn good blow job under the table.
Dean panted, enjoying the feeling of Cas sucking lightly on the side of his tense neck. He combed his fingers up the back of Cas's head, knotting his hand in the angel's velvet hair. The emotion was so huge inside him; making him feel on the verge of exploding. Words were pressing at the back of his throat, like a rocket preparing for launch -
A door opened at the end of the alley.
Dean blinked toward it, not fully comprehending that someone was walking outside. He was still enveloped in Cas's hot embrace and vaguely lost inside the emotion the angel gave him. But he slowly realized that it was a person; a waiter from inside the restaurant. There was a bag of trash in one of his hands and a pizza box in the other. Just as the man rounded the open door, he and Dean met eyes.
A look of surprise and horror flashed on the dude's face, his jaw falling open and his eyes widening. Dean found that once their eyes were locked, he couldn't look away from the guy. He was frozen in shock and shame, while he stood groping Cas and the angel sucked his neck black and blue. And it was this extremely uncomfortable stare that shot Dean back to that terrible notion...
My father would not approve.
A brief memory suddenly flashed in Dean's mind, of his father handing him his first shoebox full of dirty magazines. Vintage issues of Playboy, covered in female body parts that Dean never had the nerve to fully look at before. He was twelve years old. The pride on his father's face was unforgettable; almost the same joy he had when he gave Dean his first gun. Study up, son, he said, his grin full of authority, you're gonna be one helluva lady's man one day. Make your old man proud.
Staring at the man near the end of the alley, Dean once again pictured his own father's face wearing a similar expression. One of shock and anger, hinted with betrayal. What would John say, if he saw Dean in the arms of an angel like this? How fast would his hands ball into fists? Which profanity would fly out of his mouth first?
Fear shook the very foundation of Dean's being at the mere thought of John's reaction to his relationship with Cas.
Dean's heart pounded in his ears, as the waiter tossed the trash in the dumpster and retreated back into the restaurant. He felt like escaping; trying to run away from this sickening twinge growing in his gut. His hands were no longer holding onto Cas, but trying to push him away instead.
"Cas," he said gruffly, "stop."
Castiel didn't quite hear the word at the end of Dean's sentence. He assumed that it was an affectionate noise and continued softly nipping at his neck, enjoying the salty taste of his skin. The angel felt the urge to penetrate Dean growing in his pelvis. He was thoroughly looking forward to intercourse.
"Cas," Dean repeated, his hands pressing flat to Cas's chest.
Again, Castiel took this as a good sign. Dean always seemed to repeat his name when he received physical pleasure from him. Castiel deepened their embrace, tugging the man even closer as he flicked his tongue against his neck.
"Cas!"
Dean shoved Castiel away, causing him to stumble backward. The angel blinked as he took a few steps back, attempting to understand what had just happened. Dean was braced against the building, his tense shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breathing. His jaw was set and his eyes held a peculiar mix of anger and fear.
"I said stop!" Dean nearly shouted, his voice echoing through the alley.
Guilt instantly clouded inside Castiel. He hadn't heard Dean say the word 'stop' before. Did he accidentally hurt Dean? Had he held him too tight? Kissed him too hard?
"F – Forgive me," the angel said, still a bit confused.
Dean panted, staring at Castiel with intense emotion. The man didn't seem to feel any better with this statement. His brute posture didn't relax in the least. What could Cas do to remedy the situation? Should he attempt to verbally apologize again? What had he done to cause Dean such distress?
Before Castiel was able to say anything, however, Dean was suddenly stomping away. The angel followed him immediately as he stormed out of the alleyway and into the parking lot. The physical excitement fled Cas's body; the erection between his legs dying. The sudden shift in Dean's emotion left him to wonder what he'd done wrong. As badly as he wanted to ask, it appeared that Dean was too upset to socialize. The last thing Castiel wanted to do was make him feel worse...
Dean climbed instantly into his car, where Sam was already seated in the passenger seat. Castiel joined them, cautiously sitting in the backseat and shutting the door quietly. Sam, who had a mouth full of food, offered a pastry toward his brother.
"You've gotta try one of these things," he grinned, voice muffled by food, "they're amazing. And look, Tom gave us a whole basket."
"I don't want the damn cannoli," Dean growled, aggressively starting the engine.
Sam seemed to realize the change in Dean's demeanor instantly. The younger Winchester flashed a glance to Castiel over the seat, raising an eyebrow in question. The angel sighed and looked away, bringing his sight to rest on the scenery moving beyond his window. He didn't know how to reply Sam's unasked question, because he didn't know the answer either.
For close to an hour, the Impala was uncomfortably silent. Castiel found himself constantly glancing at the side of Dean's face, as his mind replayed the scene from the alley over and over. He truly wished to know what he'd done wrong. Had he hurt Dean? If so, why didn't the man just tell him instead of pushing him away with such anger? Castiel believed they had been steadily growing closer, in both physical and emotional areas, but had he been wrong? Had they reached a certain limit in their relationship? As much as Castiel craved to ask, he remained quiet; afraid it would cause Dean more pain.
As the Impala pulled in front of Bobby's house, Castiel stole another glance at Dean. He saw that the man's face had relaxed a bit from their time on the road. Perhaps there was a healing power in driving that helped Dean cope with his emotions. Castiel lingered behind, as Dean and Sam walked to Bobby's front door. The younger Winchester was still glancing between the angel and his brother with a look of slight confusion. Dean was still looking anywhere but at Castiel...and it made the angel's heart ache.
After knocking repeatedly with no reply, Sam decided to call Bobby's cell phone. He engaged in a small chat with him, asking about the front door, before saying farewells and hanging up.
"He said to go on in and make ourselves at home," Sam explained, leading the way inside.
"What? He's not here?" Dean asked, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.
Again, Castiel lingered behind. He edged his way over to the kitchen table, turning his back to the brothers and peering out of the window. He continued to listen to Sam and Dean, even though he was turned away.
"No," Sam sighed, "he said he won't be back until tomorrow, but to wait here for him."
There was a small silence, in which Castiel knew Sam was probably attempting to figure out why there seemed to be an invisible wall between Dean and the angel. Castiel prayed he would ask Dean, hoping to hear the answer for himself. And soon enough...
"Hey, what happened?" Sam whispered, apparently speaking toward Dean only.
"Nothing," Dean replied, also in a whisper, "just...it's personal."
Castiel could hear that the anger had melted away from Dean's voice. He sounded calm now, and perhaps a bit more open. The angel was glad to know he was feeling better. Perhaps Sam played a role in his healing process as well.
"Well, uh, maybe you two should talk things out," Sam suggested, still quiet, "it's weird seeing you guys so...distant."
Cas agreed with Sam's statement. He disliked the distance just as much. Dean sighed. There was another short silence, before the sound of keys caught Castiel's attention. He turned around quickly, fearing that Dean was leaving. But it was Sam, who was jingling the keys in his hand. He smiled, looking between Dean and Cas as he backed toward the door.
"I think I'll go shoot some pool at the bar in town," he said, smirking, "Probably won't be back until the early hours of the morning, you know how it is..." he paused in the doorway to give Dean a wink, "Looks like you've got the whole house to yourselves tonight."
There seemed to be a suggestive look on Sam's face as he backed completely out of the doorway. After the soft snap of the door closing, Castiel leaned against the kitchen table; bracing a hand on the hard wood as he dropped his eyes to the floor. It was nice of Sam to offer them a place to be alone together, like this. But it was obvious that nothing intimate was going to be taking place. Not after what happened in the alley...
The sound of gentle footsteps caught Castiel's attention. He slowly raised his head to see Dean carefully making his way toward him. The man's eyes were on the floor – and seemed overwhelmingly apologetic. He looked guilty; walking like a condemned convict. Castiel searched Dean's face, wondering why he was acting so remorseful. Once close enough to the table, Dean reached a hand out and carefully slid his fingertips across the top of Cas's hand. Castiel savored the feeling, looking up to finally meet eyes with Dean.
"I'm...I'm sorry," the man mumbled, his emerald eyes glistening as they bore into Castiel.
"Did I do something wrong, Dean?" Castiel asked instantly, dying to know the answer.
Dean shook his head as a streak of sadness came over his face. His whole hand was suddenly gripping the angel's.
"No. Not a damn thing," he answered, leaning forward to rest his forehead to Cas's, "You didn't do anything wrong, Cas. It was me, I swear it was. I just..." he paused, seeming to be trying to find the right words, "...I'm just not used to being given so much affection."
The honesty in Dean's stare was bold. Castiel could understand, at least a little, of what Dean was trying to say. The man wasn't accustomed to being doted on, and pleasured altruistically, and cared for in the same way he took care of others. He wasn't accustomed to being loved.
Castiel tilted his head, bringing his lips to press against Dean's. He kissed the man as sweetly as possible, reaching up to cradle the back of his fragile head. Dean kissed him back firmly, parting his lips to taste Cas's mouth. Castiel gently pulled back enough to speak.
"Perhaps I can help you overcome that," he stated, lips brushing over Dean's.
A smile graced Dean's mouth, spreading to light up his entire face.
"I think you just might," he agreed.
(Author's Note: I think we can all agree that John Winchester was a shitty father, right? What an ass that guy was. At least Dean's got Sammy, who is the definition of an awesome brother. Can I get an amen? :) By the way, this chapter was published at close to 2 in the morning, in my world. Hey, when something is begging to be written, you gotta do it. :) As always, I appreciate all of your insightful reviews! I find them overwhelmingly necessary in helping a story continue. It's amazing what you can get done with a little push. :) Thank you! The next chapter will be out very soon!)