A/N: Back by popular demand. This chapter contains some homophobic behaviours and swearing, but there is angst and fluff in equal measure. Enjoy!

Rotten Judgement

"We told Sam we were going for a supply run," Cas reminded him.

Dean pulled back from nibbling on his angel's ear. "Are you trying to tell me you'd rather be shopping right now?" His tone was affronted and there was a trace of a pout on his lips.

Cas leaned in to give his hunter a consolatory kiss. "Do not mistake me. Copulating with you in the back seat of your car was immensely pleasurable, if somewhat confining."

Dean smirked. "That's half the fun."

Cas began to button up his shirt, hiding the trail of 'hickeys' Dean had left on his chest. "But it's getting late, and we promised your brother that we would bring food home."

Cas had officially moved into the bunker a few weeks ago. He had been worried about encroaching on Dean's space, but Dean had seemed almost deliriously happy to add a second pillow to his bed and a stack of Castiel's books to his shelf. He had even made space in his drawers before he realised that Cas did not own another set of clothes, which he immediately rectified by giving him a soft grey hoodie, an 'ACDC' shirt and a pair of jeans he claimed were too small for him. He didn't seem to think that Cas needed pyjamas though: "They'll only slow me down," he had said with a wink. In the end, it was Sam who bought him a set, citing his reason as: "I'd rather not have to gouge out my eyes." (Dean had assured him that it was just an expression and explained that Sam was a prude who didn't appreciate the sight of 'that fine ass' the way he did.)

"I'm sure Sam will manage to rustle up some grub," Dean said dismissively, nabbing the tie off Cas before he could put it on.

"The fridge is completely empty save for the dregs of the beer you didn't finish last night."

That got Dean's attention. "We're out of beer?" He flung the tie back at Cas and rummaged around on the floor for his own t-shirt, pulling it hastily over his head. "Let's go."

Cas bit back a laugh as he watched Dean's uncoordinated efforts to wriggle his way into the front seat, appreciating the close-up view of Dean's jeans-clad rear. It was just as fine as his own, especially with the material pulled tight. On an impulse, Cas gave it a pinch and commented "Nice ass, Winchester."

Dean yelped and wound up sprawled awkwardly across the front seat, looking remarkably like a newborn fawn who had yet to master the art of walking. He glared up at Cas. "You did that on purpose."

"I was simply returning your compliment," Cas said innocently. He made a point of using the door and slipped gracefully into the passenger side.

Dean scowled at him. "I'll get you back for that, you know."

"You can try, but I heard from Sam that he was usually the victor in your 'prank wars'. I doubt you would fare much better against me."

"Oh he said that, did he? Well don't believe everything he tells you."

"So he didn't slice through all but the thinnest strand of your waistband and cause your pants to drop around your ankles in the middle of a school assembly? And you weren't wearing Star Wars boxers at the time?"

The tips of Dean's ears turned bright red. "I'm going to kill him."

Cas chuckled and leaned over to lick at the sensitive curve of his ear. "Don't be mad," he whispered.

Dean shivered as the angel's breath ghosted over his skin. "You better cut that out if you want to get to the shops before they close," he warned.

Cas grazed a hand down the stubble on Dean's jaw, still marvelling at the fact that he was allowed to touch Dean freely now. "We would get there sooner if you would start the car."

Dean caught his hand and guided it to rest beneath his on the gear stick even as he turned the key in the ignition with the other. "We'll finish this conversation later," he promised. "I need to know what else my pain-in-the-ass little brother has told you."

"You could tell me a few embarrassing stories about him if it would make you feel better," Cas offered.

Dean brightened up at that. "Well, there was this one time…"

Cas listened with amusement as Dean went into elaborate detail about a myriad of embarrassing moments from Sam's childhood. The drive passed quickly and soon they were pulling up outside a strip mall.

"Do you mind grabbing the beer?" Dean asked. "I want to buy some apples from the grocer."

Cas raised an eyebrow. "You're going to purchase fruit. To eat. Willingly?"

"I was thinking of baking a pie," Dean said defensively.

"That makes more sense. Sam says you're a good cook." Abruptly, Cas frowned. "But you told me not to believe what he says. So-"

"I'm not a good cook, I'm a great one," Dean huffed.

"I'm sure you will prove that."

"Oh, I'll have you eating out of my hand, just you wait."

Cas hummed. "I'd like that."

Dean winked at him and popped the door open. "Meet you back here." He headed off towards the fruit shop but Cas called him back. "What is it?"

Cas slid up next to him and deftly stole the wallet from his back pocket. Dean yelped again at the intimate contact before he realised that Cas was just borrowing some of his cash.

"Meet you back here," Cas echoed with a smile, reaching up to peck a quick kiss against Dean's lips as he slipped the wallet back into place.

Dean's ears were burning again as he hurried off to buy his apples.

Cas smirked to himself and went to purchase a couple of six-packs of Dean's favourite beverage.

He was paying at the register when he heard a sharp yell from outside. "Son of a BITCH!"

He would recognise that voice anywhere. It was edged with anger and something else that might have been pain.

Alcohol forgotten, Cas rushed to check that Dean was okay.

"Dean, what-"

He stopped dead.

The Impala, Dean's pride and joy, was covered top to bottom in rotten fruit. The sludge oozed down the windshield and dripped from the rims.

Dean whirled around. "Who the fuck-"

But suddenly the street was void of curious onlookers – they had all fled into the relative safety of the stores.

"You rat BASTARDS," Dean yelled. "Why don't you come out here and face me, you fucking cowards?"

"Dean-"

Rage glinted in Dean's eyes and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. He looked like he wanted to kill someone. "Did you see what they did to my car?"

"Probably just some foolish children pulling a prank-"

"No," Dean growled. His dangerous glare scoured the row of windows, searching for the culprits.

"It will come off," Cas said. He knew how protective Dean was of his Baby, but he didn't want the full force of the hunter's fury unleashed on some hapless civilian. "I'll help you clean it, it will be as good as new-"

"That's not the fucking point-"

Cas reached for him, trying to offer some measure of comfort. "Dean, it's okay-"

Dean slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Cas recoiled. "I'm sorry. I thought I was allowed to- I know you told me about personal space, but the rules changed after we became intimate, didn't they? I didn't mean to-"

"Shut the hell up!"

Castiel's mouth snapped closed but his thoughts were reeling. He didn't know what he had done wrong. He was still trying to understand the complexities of human relationships but Dean was usually patient with his blunders. He hadn't shut Cas down this brutally since "You can take your little apology and cram it up your ass." Dean was livid. And he didn't forgive easily. Whatever Cas had done, he had to find a way to fix it.

"Get in the damn car," Dean snapped. "We're leaving."

Cas swallowed and did as he was told.

Dean pulled out of the parking space with a screech of tires. The windscreen wipers worked furiously to clear the clumps of fruit that kept flying off the hood of the car and splattering against the window. Dean's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel like it was the throat of whoever had wronged him. He didn't speak a word on the drive back.

When they pulled into the bunker's garage Cas risked clearing his throat. "Do you want me to help-"

"No," Dean said sharply.

Knowing that there was no use in arguing with him, Cas got out and headed inside. He hovered in the doorway, though, and watched as Dean began hosing down his car under a furious spray of water. Dean didn't spare him a single glance.

Cas retreated.

"Finally!" Sam exclaimed as Cas entered the library. "What took you so long? I'm starved."

"I'm sorry, Sam. We didn't bring any food back with us."

Sam's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Are you serious?"

"Generally. My jokes are rarely well-received."

"Ah, don't sweat it, Enochian just doesn't translate well. So, you were gone for three hours but you couldn't find time to stop for groceries." His expression was half-amused and half-exasperated. "Dean really does have a one-track mind. I'd better see if he will let me borrow the Impala so I can find a 24-hour mini-mart somewhere."

"I am afraid that is not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"He's cleaning the car."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "You guys made a mess in there? Wow, I so did not need that mental imagery."

"The interior is fine."

"Well he cleaned and waxed the exterior just yesterday, so why-"

"It was pelted with rotten fruit."

Sam stared at him. "What?"

"We did stop to get food, but when we got back to the car it was covered in decaying produce. It must have been refuse from the local fruit store."

"Someone vandalised the Impala?"

"Yes."

Sam let out a low whistle. "I bet Dean was pissed. What on earth did they do that for? It's not Halloween."

"I am unsure. But I think Dean blames me for it."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe he thinks if I had not taken so long to find the right beer I could have stopped them. Or maybe he's angry that I convinced him to go shopping in the first place."

Sam frowned. "I doubt it, Cas. He's probably just venting, you know how he gets about his Baby."

"He slapped my hand away when I tried to touch him. And he told me to 'shut the hell up'." Cas dropped dejectedly into a chair. "I have ruined everything. I don't know why I ever thought I could have this with him."

"Cas, I think you're overreacting. I'm sure-"

"You didn't see the look on his face, Sam."

Sam studied him carefully. "Okay. First fights are hard. But whatever this is about, we're going to fix it. Come on." He snagged the angel's sleeve and tried to drag him out of the chair.

Cas resisted, shaking his head. "Sam, no, if I push him he'll only get angrier."

"It is never a good idea to let him stew. The longer he sits on whatever is bothering him the worse it gets."

"But what if he-" Cas swallowed, not wanting to voice his deepest fear: that Dean would send him away again, this time for good.

"Hey, if you guys can make it past your whole God-phase and our attempts to gank you, you can make it through this. Just don't let him do his ridiculous refusing-to-talk-about-it-until-it-blows-up-in-his-face thing."

Reluctantly, Cas followed Sam down to the garage. They found Dean scrubbing furiously, his clothes soaked through and his hair plastered to his scalp. His back was to them and Cas didn't think he had noticed their entrance, but before either of them could say anything Dean was shouting.

"God fucking damnit!"

Cas flinched back as Dean threw the wash cloth and slammed his fist against his Baby.

"What the hell, Dean?"

Dean whirled around and if Cas had still had his wings he would have been out of there in an instant.

But it wasn't just rage written all over Dean's face. A stubborn tear had snaked a wet trail through the sweat and grime. There was anguish in his eyes.

Sam's voice was softer the second time. "Dean, what happened?"

Wordlessly, Dean stepped aside to let them see.

The rotten fruit had been washed away and the sleek black metal gleamed. But scrawled in large letters across the doors was the word FAGGOTS.

"Oh my god."

"It won't come off. They keyed my car, Sammy, those bastards keyed my car."

"Dean…"

"Cas kissed me and they fucking keyed my car. Do you see what they wrote? They called us-"

Sam's voice was ragged even as he strove to stay calm. "Dean, I know. It's disgusting. It isn't fair. They had no right to-"

"It was one kiss. One, and it was barely that."

Cas felt sick. It was his fault. He had never even thought to ask if it was okay for him to touch Dean in public. "Dean, I'm sorry-"

"Don't!"

Cas stepped back. He was only making things worse. He turned to flee but Sam still had a firm grip on his sleeve.

"Dean, stop. I know you're upset, but Cas thinks you're angry with him."

Cas tried to pull away. "He has every right to be angry, I'm the reason his car was vandalised-"

"Cas-"

"No, I know, I made a mistake, I shouldn't have-"

"Cas, god, no – this is so messed up-"

"I didn't mean to-"

Dean sucked in a breath. "Cas, I'm not mad."

That was a blatant lie.

"No, okay, I am mad, I'm friggin' furious, but at those bastards who did this, not you."

"But you-"

"I know what I did. A bunch of homophobes had just defaced my car and not one person there made any move to stop them. We were surrounded, Cas. I couldn't let you touch me again, I couldn't let them hear you talk about us being 'intimate' – god, Cas, they could have killed us."

Dean was shaking. He clenched his hands into fists in an attempt to still them.

"I didn't have any weapons on me and you're not all powered up on angel juice anymore. If a mob had set in on us I don't know that I could have – I might not have been able to – god, Cas, we've faced all manner of monsters together and I could have lost you to a bunch of rednecks."

"Dean." Cas moved forward and Sam let him go, making a strategic retreat now that the problem was out in the open. Castiel's voice was low, gentle as he approached. "Dean, it's okay."

"It's not. Heaven and Hell have tried their damnedest to keep us apart and now the humans are in on it too. I can't even kiss my boyfriend in public without being attacked."

Despite the situation, Cas couldn't help but smile a little. "Boyfriend?"

"Well, yeah," Dean stammered, "I mean, that's the usual term. Unless you prefer 'partners' but I always thought that sounded like one of those lame buddy-cop shows-"

"Boyfriend is fine." Better than fine. It caused a little burst of happiness inside him and all the anxiety from the past couple of hours drained away.

Cas took Dean's hands, uncurling his fists to hold them loosely. "You don't have to kiss your boyfriend in public if you don't want to. I'm happy to save it for when I have you all to myself." He leaned in and brushed noses with Dean before angling down to press their lips together. Dean shuddered an unsteady breath against him before he returned the kiss. It had none of the heat from their make-out session in the Impala earlier; this was about the giving and receiving of comfort, the reassurance that they hadn't been hurt and the promise that they were going to be okay. Before Dean, Cas could never have imagined that a simple kiss could convey so much.

Once he felt Dean's heartbeat settle, Cas pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. "But if you do decide that you don't care what other people think of us, just remember that angel-juice or not, there is nothing in this or any other world or dimension that could tear me away from you. If anyone wants to mess with us, they will have a hell of a fight on their hands. I'm not just a baby in a trench coat, you know."

"Hmm," Dean murmured. He slid a hand down between them and smiled when Cas gasped. "Definitely not," he agreed. Without warning, he grabbed the lapels of Castiel's coat and spun him around. Cas lost his balance and found himself sprawled across the hood of the Impala, looking up at Dean.

"Told you I'd get you back for that little ass-grabbing stunt you pulled earlier," Dean smirked. "If Baby's gonna be defiled, we should do it properly."

Cas pulled Dean down on top of him. "I won't argue with that."

"Good. Hey, Cas?"

Most of his attention was rushing southwards but he found enough coherence to make a sound that bore a vague resemblance to "Hm?"

Dean smiled. "Thanks."