Wow, so the smut didn't blow? Thanks, you can count on some chunks of it in the future.
And I'm sorry for the delay, I have crazy busy July. So it was supposed to be some plot, but they just can't seem to shut up when together. And I wanted to give you something already. So this is just them together. And seriously, it's them, not me. I wanted plot. Which I'm likely to post this weekend. So again, sorry for lack of it now.
Dean must have been a freaking centipus, which was like twelve octopi rolled into one, because when Cas woke up the next morning Dean's tentacles were all over him. Now, Cas was far from a morning person, mind you, but he was used to sleeping in an old house with the windows opened, so the current conditions made him too hot to be comfortable, plus he felt like getting up anyways.
For the first time he had the urge to get up before his bed-mate to prepare breakfast. Maybe it had something to do with how Dean gave himself over so completely to Cas last night, no questions asked. Cas felt such a surge of protectiveness at the thought that he went for in search of the kitchen, completely forgetting that the last meal he prepared was when he was 10 years-old, and during Anna's dolls' tea party. It was a sandy cake, which was a cake…made of sand.
None of that seemed to matter as, upon standing in the kitchen, he defiantly looked at the shelves holding the products. He moved towards the coffee maker and started preparing filters, coffee and cups. He lived his entire life in a house with three writers and a hyperactive pastry chef so he made his fair share of coffee of any kind, so at least that was covered. Now for the actual food.
He checked Dean's fridge and cupboards since he didn't think Dean would mind. He let himself be known to be such a giving person he would probably be offended if Cas didn't feel like he could. So Cas took eggs, water, some flour, and milk, because that's what he'd seen Gabe do. The pastry chef even once tried to teach him how to make crepes, claiming it was even easier than actual pancakes. The simplest recipe was to use one measurement of each product and mix it together, so he added all the ingredients and started whisking it.
Dean had a really nicely stocked kitchen, not that a whisk is the final word in fancy kitchen appliances, but Cas spotted a lot of stuff in the cupboards. The pantry was full of all sorts of jams, sauces and products, and there were even small pots with herbs on the counter.
Cas took in the entire room, still whisking as he did so. It wasn't too big, but it was bright with the big windows one could see the front yard through. The cupboards were heavy and most definitely made by Dean. The kitchen was opened to the main room and Cas wandered around to inspect that as well, never stopping his mixing efforts.
Usually the first thing he did upon entering someone else's house was inspect his surroundings. But yesterday he wouldn't have cared if he was stepping into Versailles, he'd just wanted Dean. So he went on his normal tour today, the bowl never leaving his side.
The living room was obviously meant for family gatherings seeing as there was a massive dinner table under the window wall, and it was similar to the one he saw at the Winchesters' the day before. In the center of the room there were two huge black, leather couches facing one another; these were separated with a low table. There were also two fitting armchairs and sitting pillows scattered on the floor. The other wall was covered by a book case, also a similar sight, but upon closer inspection the book choice was much less varied. Still Cas was jealous and totally wanted one as well. He would check out the books on the shelves if he wasn't growing suspicious of the crepe batter—it was supposed to be less watery by now, so Cas returned to the kitchen to retrace his steps. There's was no way he mistook an ingredient…right? He eyed the offending liquid in thought.
"That's gotta be right," he muttered under his breath. "One egg, one glass of flour, water and milk."
He was snapped out of his meditative state by two strong hands sneaking around his torso and a warm body pressing against his. "I'd bet my last piece of pie it's water or milk, Cas." Warm breath hit the man's ear.
"What?" Cas was too distracted by the fuzzy feeling creeping over his body to register the meaning of the words.
"If you're trying to make crepes, which I think you are, it's one times three; egg, flour, liquid—milk or water," Dean explained, sounding amused. "Not much of a cook, are you?" Not changing his position, and still plastered to Cas' back, Dean reached for eggs and flour. "You used both milk and water?"
Cas simply nodded, too embarrassed to admit his lacking skills, though it was pretty obvious.
"Here, let me show you."
With Dean's lips still pressed behind Cas' ear the painter could feel the words as well as hear them.
Dean grabbed the flour from behind the smaller man and poured one glass of the powder and added one more egg to the bowl. "Now, let's whisk it properly." He mouthed at a piece of skin he could reach and took Cas' hand that was still holding the appliance into his. He made smooth movements, applying gentle pressure as the liquid in the bowl started resembling one for crepes.
Cas totally relaxed against Dean, his body leaning into his, getting over his initial embarrassment. "You wouldn't move a finger in the kitchen either if Gabe was your brother," Cas accused with a slight pout, trying to somewhat explain his handicap.
"Yeah, I probably wouldn't. Luckily for you, my brother is Sammy, whose greatest achievement in the culinary filed is mixing vegetables together," Dean said as he started swaying their bodies a little, making Cas hum with appreciation.
"So, you are quite a skilled cook?" he asked, not bothering to turn his head to look at the man behind him.
"Well, you know, the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Gonna see how that will work on you." Dean started dropping light kisses on Cas' neck and shoulder, still working on the batter.
"Technically, the quickest way to get to one's heart would be stabbing him in the chest. But, please, don't try that." "You're halfway there anyways," Cas thought as he felt one of Dean's hands leaving his waist in order to be placed on the left side of his chest.
"Grab the pan," Dean murmured softly in retaliation. Cas did and Dean moved them a little so they were facing the stove now. "Ok, man, pay attention so you can score some boyfriend points for serving breakfast in bed next time. So the secret to making awesome crepes is..."
But Cas was too focused on writing C+D in his mental diary to pay attention to the information about heated pans and stuff like that.
They were eating while still standing at the counter, reluctantly untangling themselves from each other as the first batch of food had been prepared. Dean took the reigns over the stove and Cas dived into the pantry bringing an armful of different jams, chocolate mousses, peanut butter and other stuff suitable to be the filling with him.
Dean ruled that that kind of food tasted best when eaten instantly after preparation, so they were filling and folding each one just as it left the pan and eating them on the spot. After all, who really needed forks anyway?
"So, what are your plans for today?" Cas asked shyly as he was adding copious amounts of chocolate mousse to the strange mix that was now adorning his soon-to-be-eaten crepe.
Dean looked at him incredulously from his spot next to the stove. "Spending it with you?" he said in a 'duh' tone. "We were supposed to move the furniture to your place today so you can work on the design," Dean reminded him.
"Oh, of course. Could you maybe take me home first? I would like to change into some clean clothes." Cas looked down to where he was wearing unbuckled jeans and a T-shirt from yesterday.
"I will take you home, but you can just borrow some of my stuff. I have some T-shirts dating before the discovery of your brother's shop so they would fit you better," Dean offered so easily it made the other man giddy. Not many of his previous relationships were so eager to make it official.
"Does your family know about you and men?" the painter asked on a more serious note.
"Well, yeah... Not that I ever brought one home..." Dean mused and Cas' face fell a little bit at that. Dean wasn't looking at him, more like at the ceiling, as he was trying to remember something, so he didn't see Cas' crestfallen expression and simply continued "...Not that I brought girls home either."
"You didn't?" Cas asked, unable to sound unfazed.
"No, I've only brought two now that I think about it." He looked at Cas and smiled. "My first girlfriend, Cassie–back in high school, and Lisa, so it's not a lot."
Cas couldn't ask about himself. It was too early and maybe Dean wouldn't even want to go there.
"But, hey, we've almost covered that."
"We have?"
"Sure, Sarah knew I liked you the first time she saw us together, and she ratted me out, of course." Dean laughed lightly. It was easy now to treat it as a joke, but he was kind of embarrassed she told his family during Monday dinner. He was sure Cas was so out of his league he didn't stand a chance. Well, ok, it was true in Dean's mind, but somehow that beautiful man was willing to give him a chance.
"I don't think my mom ever cared. I mean...she cares, but she doesn't mind the gender more than the type of person I want to be with. And my dad...well, don't get me wrong, he's not gonna be cracking champagne open anytime soon, but he had time to get used to the idea. And now with Sammy reproducing, Dad will fulfill his grandpa wishes. What about yours?"
"Well, Gabe and Anna were always really supportive, my mom will just squeal at how adorable and cute we look, and my Father is utterly indifferent to sexual orientation." Cas hesitated for a moment. "Not that I want to drag you into an introduction to my parents..." he started backing out.
"Cas, relax. We'll talk about it when we get there." Dean studied the other man thoughtfully. "Besides, you've already met most of my family." He laughed at the next thought. "You're just one sasquatch brother short of a full house."
"Oh, right. I haven't met Sam." Cas chuckled. In his mind Dean's little brother was a hero for being married to Sarah.
"Don't worry. You can't hide long. His thirtieth birthday is at the beginning of May, so if not sooner you'll be harassed then."
"Harassed?"
"Oh, man. That dude is like the king of nerds... Well, actually, scratch that. He's more like the princess of nerds with his lush hair, puppy eyes and weight watching. He's gonna talk your ears off about music, art and shows. Seriously, sometimes I think he was switched at birth." He stopped as he was actually pondering the probability. "So if you ever meet a thirty year old handsome bastard with great taste in music and mad manual skills, do the whole cheek swiping/hair pulling routine 'cause you might've stumbled onto my baby brother." He winked at Cas.
"A younger, prettier Dean Winchester? The world would explode," Cas said with mock seriousness. "And don't worry, I'll be vigil. After all, how often you get the chance to switch someone for a newer model?" he said as if that threat had any solid ground. He congratulated himself as Dean set his plate down and crowded Cas against the fridge.
He studied his face for a short time and then grazed his lips against Cas'. The shorter man's breath hitched when he felt Dean exhaling against him, warm puffs of air hitting his lips. "You're operating on the assumption I would let you go so easy..." Dean breathed, still not changing the angle of his head, adding slight strokes of his thumb against Cas' hipbones to his ministration.
"You know, it would be creepy if you weren't so cute," Cas tried and failed to make his voice sound even.
Dean huffed in amusement. "I'm not cute, I'm manly."
Cas already learned to love teasing Dean. "Sorry. Couldn't tell by all the cuddling you were doing earlier."
"I wasn't. I was hugging—manly."
Cas fixed him with a stare.
"And even if I was, I could cuddle the shit out of you in the most manly fashion," Dean said, trailing Cas' jawline with his lips, not really kissing him.
"Mmmm, still think it's cute," Cas insisted half-heartedly while angling his head to give Dean wider access.
Dean fixed him with a sharp gaze, which Cas found hot as fuck, and finally, finally, crushed his lips with Cas'. The attacked man responded in kind, grinding his hips into Dean's. Someone moaned and Cas felt Dean's hands on his thighs just like the previous night, so Cas responded by jumping up and wrapping his legs around Dean's waist. And the fact that Dean was able to support his weight made the other man even harder, not that Cas was going to admit that.
"You think you can do better than yesterday?" Cas asked with a crooked grin as Dean was readying himself.
"Yeah, now I know you play dirty." Dean moved towards the living room, this time prepared for Cas' Hips of Doom. So when the man ground into him full force he swayed just a little bit.
"I'm trying be a gentleman here and wait until I can ravish you on the couch, but if you won't behave that floor is looking mighty cozy as well," he admonished as he was nearing the couch and sitting down, Cas straddling Dean's lap with his legs folded on either side of him.
"It's a good position," Cas thought as he swayed his hips backwards just to grind them full force into Dean's.
Dean grabbed at the back of Cas' neck and claimed his mouth, tongue licking at the seam of the other's lips. Cas opened without hesitation and Dean could once again taste the man, now mixed with sweet flavors of cherry jams and chocolate. He moved his other hand down under Cas' shirt to caress his perfectly toned torso, teasingly pinching one erect nipple as he did so.
Cas moaned at that, his hips losing the rhythm slightly, their erections gaining perfect friction between Cas' unbuckled jeans and Dean's sweatpants. They ground against each other like horny teenagers, and it didn't take them long enough to earn bragging rights before they were coming in their pants in what was more socially agreed to be a short-comer timespan; not that they could find it in themselves to care.
After their breathing somewhat normalized, Dean motioned for Cas to stand up. "Shower?"
"Gladly."
They were both grinning like idiots when Dean guided them to his bathroom, holding his hand and fingers intertwined.
It would probably be a good day, and it wasn't even 9 a.m. yet.
Yeeez. And it's not even 9 yet. So there you have it. Like I said, nothing happens. Sorry.
