Dean decided to not make a big deal about it.
So they were friends who kissed, he could be all about that. Especially since as soon as the shuttle bus showed up again, Cas crowded him up against the window of the seat that they took and proceeded to kiss him breathless. The punk effortlessly taking back the temporary control that he had given Dean and using it to his full advantage to kiss him tenderly enough that the co-eds who followed them onto the shuttle cooed and made the biggest of heart eyes at them when they broke apart.
Okay, Dean's heart might have melted just a bit when Cas smiled at him all soft when he opened his eyes and sighed after that amazing kiss, but he had promised that things wouldn't get weird and the last thing he wanted was to scare the punk away with his feelings just when he was finally starting to get somewhere with the other man. Granted it wasn't where he wanted to be, but Dean was patient. And it didn't hurt that Cas kissed like a fucking pro either.
But it seemed like the kissing wasn't going to be an all the time thing, which was the part that was confusing him.
Once they ditched their tubes at East Side Tubing and made a quick stop at a nearby Walgreens for aloe vera and calamine lotion, they decided to just drive across the river to meet everyone else who had already made it back to Secret Beach and were starting to worry. The rest of the evening, Cas didn't touch him, not even in that comfortable, casual way that Dean had gotten used to; at least not after a last quick peck on lips as they made their way down the meandering hiking trail that lead to the beach and all of their friends.
The punk did stick close to him though, smirking over his beer when Dean and Charlie started geeking out with Gabe's coworker, Theo, about the LARPing group that they all apparently were members of; small world. Dean blushed hot when he remembered what Cas had said about wanting to kiss him when he was being nerdy and licked his lips unconsciously, causing the punk to abruptly straighten up and excuse himself from the conversation to go over to where Sam and Gabriel were talking to Kali instead.
Dean was pretty sure he had heard that trio discussing paddles and handcuffs and tried very hard to keep his mind from straying towards thoughts of Cas tying him to a bed and having his wicked way with him. Kissing was a long way off from sex after all and Dean figured that for his own sake he probably shouldn't push for too much too soon, he was pretty sure his brain was already about to implode as it was. Up until now Dean's sex life had been strictly vanilla, but if Cas wanted to...anyway.
When their group headed back towards their respective cars to part ways, Cas just smiled and gave him a tight hug before reluctantly climbing into the passenger seat of Gabriel's car; switching places with Sam who clambered into the Impala with the rest of their regular household. Sure Dean got a text from the punk right before he drifted off to sleep after indulging in an extremely vivid fantasy about all the different ways that Cas could get him off with just his mouth. It pretty much said he was happy that they had gotten to hang out that day, but didn't mention their kis- their new arrangement at all.
If that's what it was...maybe it was just a one time thing and Dean shouldn't be reading as much into it was he was. Hell, he and Sam had even kissed before at the end of their one disastrous date and it hadn't left his lips tingling for hours afterward or made his heart race when his phone beeped again just as he was drifting off to sleep.
Of course it was another message from Cas, lately they all had been, but this was the first one that the punk had bothered to sign in any way shape or form: the little trio of xs was enough to make his goofy smile stay with him long after he was asleep.
"You cheeky bastard," Balthazar muttered with an awestruck shake of his head when Castiel just shrugged and ducked into a crouch to reach for the tray of half empty salt and pepper shakers that they were supposed to be filling as part of their prep for the morning shift. "I didn't even say that, you just needed an excuse to lock lips with your boytoy. I feel so...used."
"I'm not even going to apologize," Cas replied, grinning to himself as an uncharacteristically deep blush spread over his cheeks and down his neck. "It was a great kiss, a great couple of kisses actually."
"You shamelessly took my name in vain to get yourself some action," Balthazar accused, squinting at the other man who only smiled to himself and started unscrewing the caps off of the shakers. "And the worst part is I'm only brassed because I didn't think of doing it first. All Meg does is talk about you, I should've just faked a common interest."
"Dude, I made out with her once," Cas explained, grimacing at the memory of he and his roommate's mutually drunken make out session back when he had visited his brother almost a year before. "She needs to let it go."
During SXSW Meg had made it pretty clear that she would be interested in a repeat performance, maybe with less clothes, but Cas couldn't bear the thought of doing anything sexual with someone who he had only kissed in the first place because he was drunk and sad and Meg's dark hair had reminded him of Daphne's. Ritchie had offered to act as a buffer between the two of them and like most of his life during the past two years, one thing had led to another and Cas had left behind almost as many problems as he was running from when he left Austin in March to go stay with some friends who had a punk house in Cleveland.
He'd only come back because Gabe had made him feel bad about his roommate ducking out of their lease early since Meg had been giving him hell ever since Cas had left. The punk didn't plan on staying long, but then again he hadn't really planned on the cute, quiet guy from the bookstore being someone who could possibly become a regular fixture in his life. Dean didn't want any fixtures from Cas though, which bothered him more than much else had in a long time.
The only thing he could compare it to was when he had first met Daphne; sweet, kind, shy, smart Daphne who was really too good for his gutter punk ass, but who still thought he was funny and interesting. Like her, Dean made him want to be a better person or at least be good enough that someone that great would deign to have a loser like him in their life.
"Well, maybe I should pick up snogging tips from you because you made quite the impression," Balthazar said jokingly, the bitterness in his voice almost completely buried by the lighthearted tone of his words, but Castiel heard it and patted his friend on the back in condolence.
"Sorry, man. You're not my type."
"Bollocks," the other man cursed softly, earning a snort from Cas before their conversation drifted to Marvel movies and how confused by the secret scene at the end of X Men: Days of Future Past the punk was.
He'd never been a big fan of comic books.
Sam was quickly finding out that the whole 'relationship' thing was a lot more time consuming than he was used to. Mostly because he had more experience with the sex part of relationships than the actual relationship part, but Gabe definitely made the sexy parts of their time together interesting enough that the non-sexy times didn't seem as tedious as they had when he had tried to do the boyfriend thing before.
Maybe it was just Gabriel or maybe it was the sex; it seemed like too much work to try to separate the two from each other.
Before he had met the older man, there had always been something missing it his sex life. It was too mechanical and robotic and...stiff (pun intended). The rigid expectations of the guys that he dated meant that the ever eager to please Sam ended up be the uber-dominant, Alpha-male that everyone expected him to be when really he just wanted someone else to take that control away from him. Maybe taunt him with it a bit. Maybe praise him and pet him and call him baby while they did so.
Sam had a lot of complicated feelings about sex that most people didn't want to hear about when there were endorphins and cocks and friction involved. The impatience of his partners had so often won out over his own desires that Sam had all but given up finding someone who would take the time to give a shit about him for once. Dean got it because he was in a similar situation, but two reluctant tops who wanted to be bottoms did not a relationship make.
He didn't take Gabriel's phone that day at Alamo Drafthouse intending to end up crouched on the floorboard of the other man's car with a cramp in his leg and a cock in his mouth. But that's what happened. He and Gabe had fought and bickered and Sam found himself wanting to do something that would make the other man forgive him, something that would make this short, loud, stranger with a mustache smile instead of curse at him.
It was almost an accident when Sam sarcastically called Gabe 'daddy' that day in the lobby of the movie theater when they had been fighting; a hot flush of embarrassment flooding through him when Sam had realized that he had just yelled that in front of the group of employees and patrons that had been watching them argue. But the only reaction that Gabriel had expressed from the name was a sharp intake of breath and a rapid darkening of his eyes. Which had worked for Sam so fucking hard it was ridiculous.
Sam texted Dean when Gabriel was driving them back to his place, his mouth still tasting like the other man's come and his cock so hard that he thought he would die from his brain not getting enough oxygen. It was just supposed to be sex and nothing more like it always had been, but then...y'know, feelings.
Sam's feelings, not Gabe's.
The older man had a whole slew of reasons for not wanting to date Sam, reasons that he listed anytime the younger man brought it up during one of their post-coital cuddling sessions when Sam's ass was still tinged red with handprints and stinging pleasantly. The biggest being age, which Sam repeatedly argued was just a number and if anything worked in their favor considering their mutually shared kinks. Others included Sam's (nonexistent) history with relationships, what their parents would think, the fact that they hardly knew anything about each other, and their cycle of arguing, fucking, and then arguing again in a way that probably wasn't healthy.
Gabriel's younger brother turning up and the resulting drama that seemed to follow Castiel wherever he went chased his erstwhile bed partner out of his home and had given Sam exactly the opportunity he needed to prove that he liked Gabe for more than just what he was packing in his jeans. Once they were forced to interact in ways that didn't involve their daddy issues or a mutual fondness for ageplay, it turned out that all of Gabriel's reasons for why they shouldn't be together were just excuses that the older man was just using so that he wouldn't get burned again.
The argument that led to them becoming Facebook official (which Gabe thought was important, but Sam had just rolled his eyes at) went something like this:
Gabriel: "You're young and gorgeous and you shouldn't have to settle down for the first person who realized you needed to be spanked!"
Sam: "Maybe it's something I want to do instead of something I have to do."
G: "You say that now, but you'll get bored, Sam. You have no idea what being in an adult relationship is like, it's not all fucking and cuddling. There are real life things you would have to deal with if we were together."
S: "Okay."
G: "That's all you have to say? Okay? Sam, you can't treat this like a big game. I can't deal with being with someone like that again."
S: "I'm deadly serious, Gabe. I want to give us a real shot."
G:" Well...fuck, alright then. Now get over here and kiss me or something."
It was pretty anti-climatic honestly, but Sam was happy. He didn't know how he was going to be able to fit in spending time with Gabriel once school started back in the fall, because he'd already signed up for his now usual 18-hours of coursework and in the past it had left little time for anything else but hookups. Gabriel was so much more than a hookup though and Sam was hopeful that the other man would help him keep his head when finals came around and he started freaking out like he always did.
Until then though, he was going to snatch up every opportunity he could think of to spend time with the other man which is what led him to leaning over the bar top at Mohawk in order give Gabriel a quick kiss when the older man stopped by his place of work to see him once the salon had closed. It was the middle of the week after they had all gone tubing and Sam had passed meeting the older man's friends with flying colors, so now it was his turn to subject his boyfriend to the scrutiny of his own co-workers. Sam believed that Ruby and Jess would be a lot tougher critics than Kali and Theo had turned out to be.
He hoped that Gabriel would punish him gloriously for making the whole ordeal harder than necessary.
"Hey, baby boy," Gabriel said smirking smugly when the larger man ducked his head and blushed. He knew exactly what it did to Sam when he called him that in public. "Did you miss me?"
"Ehhh," Sam replied, making a so-so face that broke quickly into a smile when the older man squawked in disbelief and batted at his arm that was resting on top of the bar. "But seriously, I'm glad you're here."
"Aww, bestill my heart," Gabe crowed, fluttering his fingers over his face in a mimicry of the shyness that the older man would never have. "Any particular reason why you're so happy to see me?"
"Yea, I've got a surprise for you," Sam answered, stepping around the bar as he spoke. "Stay right here while I go get it."
"I am a statue," the other man said seriously, smoothing his fingers over his mustache before over-exaggeratedly freezing in place.
Sam smiled and headed towards the outside bar, stopping by the brunette and blonde who were unabashedly staring at Gabriel with narrowed eyes and mischievous smirks on their faces.
"That him?" the blonde asked, gesturing towards Gabe with a jut of her chin.
"Yep," Sam said congenially. "Feel free to not go easy on him. I've got to go see Chris about some wristbands for my roommates for next week so I'll be back when I'm back."
"This is gonna be fun," the brunette purred, looping her arm through the other woman's so they could stalk together towards Gabe who was still sitting unsuspectingly with his back towards them at the bar.
Ruby and Jess sometimes made Sam wish that he liked women, because they were terrifying enough together that he knew they would have no trouble striping his ass just as thoroughly as Gabriel could.
Dean hadn't told Sam that the extra wristband for Chaos in Tejas that he had asked his roommate to get was for Cas, but he was pretty sure the other man knew. Its not like Dean had been mooning around the house about anyone else lately and the small punk music festival wasn't really something he'd ever had any interest in going to before. Dor and Charlie were going too, so it's not like it was a date or anything, but Dean was still nervous about giving the other man the wristband.
What if Cas laughed at him and told him that he may have kissed him, but it didn't mean they had to hang out or anything? What if he took the wristband (because duh, it was a free ticket into over 80 shows that were to be played over the course of four days) and then ditched him to hang out with someone who liked the kind of loud, blaring, headache inducing music that was on some of the 7"s that the punk had picked out for him?
He had liked a scant handful of the albums that the other man had picked out for him during their last foray into Cheapos, but they hadn't had a chance to talk about it yet. Dean had noticed that a few of those same bands were playing at Chaos in Tejas when he had walked out of his bedroom to find Charlie and Dor discussing the line-up one morning when he was leaving for work. It had been the lingering memory of stubble scratching against his lips and the smell of cloves clinging to his skin that drove him to impulsively ask Sam to grab him an extra wristband.
Since they already had plans to hang out with each other after Cas got off of work on Thursday, Dean decided to try not to worry about it until then; choosing to lose himself in the new issues of Harley Quinn and Avengers Undercover as well as re-reading his trade paperbacks of Buffy Season Eight in order to help the time pass until the punk texted him to let him know that he was done with work.
The plan had been to pick Cas up from Alamo Drafthouse once he was off and then they would grab something to eat (Dean had been craving a milkshake from Hut's Hamburgers all day) before coming back to his house so that they could watch Doctor Who. The punk had never seen any of it (classic or otherwise) and Dean was eager to remedy that particular cosmic malfunction.
He wasn't expecting a knock on the front door while he was still in the shower, dick hard in his soap-slick grip in an effort to avoid an awkward boner from being around Cas when he didn't know if kissing was something they were doing now. So it was essentially the understatement of the year to say that he was not exactly thrilled to be cracking open his front door in just a pair of boxer clinging to his hastily dried skin and an erection that had only just been diverted by thinking about sad puppies.
No amount of sad baby animals in the world could have prepared him for seeing Castiel in all of his sweaty, glistening glory standing on his porch with a cigarette in his mouth and a hand cupped to shield his lighter from the barely there breeze blowing outside. There was a rusted gold fixed speed bicycle propped up at the bottom of the porch steps and the punk had a battered patch-covered backpack resting at his feet.
Dean had to remind himself to breathe when the other man's eyes skimmed up and down his body as Cas took the first drag on his cigarette.
"Interrupting something?" the punk asked, blowing out smoke along with his question and causing Dean to remember that oh, yea. Underwear, mostly naked, raging libido going unchecked right the fuck now.
"No!" Dean lied, his voice coming out several octaves higher than normal, earning a smirk from the other man who just continued to calmly smoke his cigarette and gaze at Dean in a way that seemed appreciative.
At least he hoped it was appreciative as he cleared his throat and leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to appear unfazed by the fact that he had been interrupted mid-fantasy by the very object of said fantasy.
"So um...what happened to me picking you up from work?" Dean asked, ignoring the beads of water that were running down his neck from his still wet hair even though Cas's blue eyes were tracking them with an almost laser-like focus.
"I wanted to surprise you," Castiel stated simply, shrugging his shoulders before his brow furrowed and he looked inquisitively past Dean into the house. "Seriously though, is this this a bad time? Because I could go if you're with someone else right now."
"What? No," Dean objected quickly, blushing even hotter in embarrassment when he realized that how debauched he must look if the punk was thinking he had someone at his house that he was hanging out in his underwear with. "Come in, sorry. Of course there's not anyone else, Cas."
"Great," the punk replied, an easy grin breaking across his face as he stooped to pick up his bag, smoothly stubbing out his cigarette in the potted plant next to the door as he went before straightening back up. "In that case, hello handsome."
And then Cas leaned in and kissed him.
It was just a simple peck on the lips before the punk was shouldering past him into the house, but Dean had felt the graze of teeth on his bottom lip and holy fuck, okay. They were going to continue the kissing thing, he was really really okay with that.
"...and the little bastard's parents left me like a twenty dollar tip. So can I borrow one?" Cas was saying when Dean caught up to where the punk was rummaging around in his backpack that he had sat on the coffee table in the living room.
"Er...yea?" Dean said, having no idea what the other man was talking about, but willing to give Cas anything he asked for. He hooked a thumb in the direction of the bathroom where he had left his clothes, "I'm gonna go get dressed, take whatever you need. I'll be just a second."
"You're a peach," the other man said with a smile, gesturing towards the television with one hand. "Are we staying out here or…"
"My bedroom," Dean answered over his shoulder, eager to shut himself away from the punk for a few seconds so that he could have a stern conversation with certain parts of his anatomy that were staging a revolt. "I have everything downloaded on my computer. You remember which one it is, right?"
"Couldn't forget if I tried," The punk called back to him and Dean managed to make it into the bathroom before he let out the whimper of want that was threatening to tear its way out of his throat.
He was going to have Cas in his bed again, be able to cuddle up against him and maybe kiss him a little bit. His bed was going to smell like the earthy, spice-infused musk of the other man and Dean was going to jerk off so much with his face pressed into whatever pillow the punk happened to lay on that he would probably be too embarrassed to look Castiel in the face later. But he couldn't think about that right now or he would be hard and distracted and unable to function for the rest of the evening.
He needed to focus on one thing at a time; getting dressed, figuring out dinner, Doctor Who. All variables that he could control.
So he pulled on his favorite pair of comfortable brown corduroys, the ones that had lost one of the buttons on the button fly and were softened by wear and being washed over and over. They had been sacrificed to the scissors this summer since they weren't really something he could wear to school anymore and now as shorts that were cuffed up so the ragged hem didn't show, but they fit Dean like a second skin.
He threw on the plain green v-neck that he had picked out specifically because Dor and Charlie always told him it matched his eyes and took an indulgent moment to fluff up his hair in the mirror before he took a deep breath and headed out of the bathroom towards his bedroom that was just down the hall from the living room.
Dean saw Castiel's battered backpack and his scuffed Converse discarded at the foot of his bed before he saw the punk, but even then it was like his brain went offline for a couple of long seconds once he finally registered that Cas was standing at his record player holding one of the 7"s that he had been mostly recently listening to in his hands. His momentary paralysis was partially due to the fact that the sight of the punk looking so at home in his bedroom made his heart skip a beat or twelve, but it was mostly due to Cas being shirtless.
Which he wasn't complaining about because it afforded him a perfect view of the glorious span of skin that was the other man's muscular, ink covered shoulders all the way down to where the tips of his tattooed wings disappeared below the top of his low slung jeans. But it was a little too much for him to take right now, especially since he had been imagining coming all over Cas's tattoos less than fifteen minutes ago.
Who was he kidding? The sight of the other man shirtless was probably too much for anyone to take ever. Or at least that's what he was going to claim if anyone asked him why he sagged against the doorway of his bedroom when confronted with the picture that the other man made before him.
"Oh hey," Cas said, glancing up with a smirk on his face as he waved the record in the air so that Dean could see it. "Did you listen to this one yet?"
Dean straightened up quickly and went to stand next to Castiel, studying the cover of the record that was a black and white photo of a guy in a beanie drinking a beer; the band was called Swearin'. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts so that he wouldn't be tempted to run them across the jut of Cas's collarbones or trace the smattering of hair that ran between his pecs and down his abdomen to his waistband.
"Yea, I've listened to all of the ones you got for me," Dean answered softly, lolling into Cas's space enough that their shoulders brushed. "I liked that one and um...Big Soda? I liked them, I don't really remember the names of the rest, there were a lot."
"That's cool," Castiel replied, carefully setting the album down on top of the rest of the precariously balanced stack that Dean needed to re-shelve. "I like their song 'Just', it's not on this album, but I'll play it for you sometime once my guitar gets here. Swearin' is actually playing next week at Beerland I think, if you want to go see them."
"Sam got us wristbands for Chaos in Texas," Dean offered shyly, crossing his fingers in his pocket as he spoke. "And um...he got me an extra one. If you want we can go together...to see them that is. And uh...Dor's friends' band is playing at Emo's too. She wanted me to invite you to that."
"Dude," the punk drawled, his eyebrows raising in shock instead of how Dean was used to seeing just one of them arched when Cas was teasing him. "Dean, no."
Okay, Dean officially felt like the dumbest person on the face of the planet. He should've known better than to try to ask the other man to spend more time with him, they were already bordering on spending too much time together for people who were just supposed to be friends and nothing more. Cas was probably freaking the fuck out.
"I can't just let you give me a ticket," Castiel continued, delving a hand into the pocket of his jeans so that he could pull out his worn, leather wallet. "It's too much, Dean. Let me give you some money for it or something."
"No," Dean answered quickly, putting his hand over the punk's as he started to pull out a crumpled looking stack of singles and fives. "You don't have to do that, Cas. I got it for free anyway, I just um...I thought you would like to go."
With me. He didn't add that part though because then the whole gesture would seem too much like a date even if that was what Dean had privately been thinking of it as since the idea to get wristbands for he and Cas had come to him. If Castiel chose to use his wristband to go to shows with Dean well then that would be fantastic.
"Christ you're awesome," the punk breathed, reaching out and looping a hand around the back of Dean's neck to pull him into another kiss.
This one was slower and more purposeful than the one Cas had given him at the door and Dean tried his level best to savor it even though he hadn't been wholly prepared for it. It was still careful though, like Cas thought he was going to break him if he slipped Dean some tongue or something, but it was nice. So fucking nice and sweet that Dean had to pull away from it before he started crying.
No one had ever kissed him like they really cared about him before. Kissed him like they had forever to memorize the contours of his lips or to discover the exact angle they had to tilt their head in order to set all of his nerve endings on fire. But he was pretty sure that's what Cas was trying to do right now, even if he didn't mean to.
"So um...Doctor Who?" Dean asked, ducking his head as he spoke so that Cas wouldn't see him blushing even though it would be pretty hard to miss since the punk was still holding onto the nape of Dean's neck.
"Yea, sounds good," Castiel replied lowly, letting out a shaky exhale before finally letting go of Dean's neck and taking a few steps over to the bed; picking up a t-shirt that Dean hadn't noticed sitting there. "I'm gonna go try to wash the ranch dressing smell off real quick, be right back."
Oh, so that's what he had been asking to borrow, the whole shirtless thing made a lot more sense now.
Dean took the time he had alone to double check his room for anything embarrassing; dirty socks trapped in his comforter, bookmarks for porn pulled up on his computer, or any sex toys that Charlie or Sam might have shoved into a nook or cranny somewhere in an effort to embarrass him. He also pulled up the episode of Doctor Who that he wanted to start Cas on, turning the video on full screen and grabbing his wireless mouse so that he could control the computer from the comfort of his bed.
Which is where he tried to get cozy in the most attractive way possible before Cas came back from cleaning up. But the pillows were suddenly too lumpy or they wouldn't lay right and his legs were too cold, but then the blanket made him too hot which is why when the punk returned Dean was tangled up in his sheets and fighting with one of his pillows.
"Aww, honey," Castiel said putting his hand on his hip when he stopped in the doorway, wearing one of Dean's plain v-necks that hung loosely on his smaller frame. "You saved me my side of the bed."
"Yea, that's what I was doing," Dean mumbled, kicking his comforter completely off the bed in disgust before sitting up and straightening out his own shirt that had gotten hiked up during his tussle with his bed linens.
"Could you be any more wonderful?" Castiel asked as he slowly crawled his way up the bed, making it much more tortuously seductive than it needed to be if you asked Dean, but he was appreciative of the show nonetheless.
"Maybe if I'd already made dinner already," Dean answered, feeling cooler than he ever had before when the punk laughed at his earnest statement that he hadn't meant as a joke.
"I just ordered Indian," the other man stated, grinning madly as propped up a couple of pillows against the headboard before plopping back on them next to Dean. "I hope you like spicy food."
"I do," Dean replied, shaking his head fondly at the punk before crossing his legs underneath him until he knew for sure how much cuddling he was going to be allowed to do with the other man. "But I've never eaten Indian food, what if I don't like it?"
"Then we can't be friends anymore," Cas answered simply, shrugging his shoulders at Dean.
There was a long beat of silence in which Dean tried to figure out a way to come to grips with how easily it seemed Castiel could toss him aside, over something silly like not liking a certain food, before the punk burst out laughing and tugged on the back of Dean's shirt; patting the broad expanse of his chest in an invitation for Dean to move closer.
"Dude, I'm kidding! If you don't like it then I'll cook you dinner, okay? Something special."
"I should make you cook me dinner regardless, jerk." Dean muttered, his shy smile as he tucked himself under Castiel's arm and laid his head on the punk's chest belying the angry tone of his voice.
"Maybe I will," the punk said back challengingly.
"Well okay then," Dean retorted using the same inflection.
It was so painfully domestic, like something out of a sappy summer romance movie, but Dean could care less how cheesy they sounded with their faux bickering because for the first time he felt resoundingly comfortable in his own skin. All those bullies from his hometown and all of the pressure he felt to do well in school just faded away under the lazy brush of Castiel's fingers against his upper arm as they cuddled. He even forgot to start Doctor Who until Cas mentioned it, which, whoa. He had never forgotten Doctor Who ever.
About half an hour later, Cas peeled Dean off of him long enough to get up and go get the door when the delivery guy from the restaurant arrived. Returning to spread the ginormous bag of unfamiliar food out on the end of Dean's bed and taking a couple of minutes to demonstrate how to eat the vegetable biryani and chicken tikka masala without making a mess using the garlic naan instead of a plate or utensils. It was all delicious, but Dean was reluctant to do more than shrug when the punk asked him what he thought of it; hoping to earn a homemade meal from the other man mostly because he was curious about what exactly Cas would cook for him.
"I don't get why you started on season three," Castiel complained for probably the fifth time since Dean had started the show. "They're making a whole bunch of references that I don't get."
"It's not season three," Dean explained, forcing himself to not roll his eyes or sigh because he'd already explained it a couple of times and he might have found it just a little bit endearing that the punk didn't get it yet. "It's the Third Doctor. A bunch of stuff with the First and Second Doctor's was lost when the BBC reused old film so this is the best place to start continuity-wise. They actually explain a lot of stuff if you pay attention, which I've been telling you-"
"Well I can't pay attention when you're all good smelling and warm and shit beside me, okay?" Castiel interrupted, gesturing at Dean's seated form with the piece of naan that he was holding. "So move your everything somewhere else and then I can follow along with your show."
Dean swallowed the last spicy bite of curry that he had been chewing, his eyes wide behind his glasses as his brain sluggishly registered what the punk had just said, reanalyzing it because there was no possible way he had just heard Cas admit that he was as affected by Dean as Dean was by him.
"You're done eating, right?" Dean asked hoarsely, moving quickly to start snapping shut the styrofoam containers that all of their food had come in.
"No, why?" the punk asked, his annoyance clear on his face when Dean snatched the naan out of his hand and got up to deposit all of the assorted food item anywhere that was off of the fucking bed already. "What? No, Dean, don't kick me out man. I'm sorry, 'kay? I made it weird-"
"I'm going to kiss you now," Dean declared, clambering back onto the bed so that he could straddle Cas's thighs and push him down into the pillow with mostly his lips, but also his hands pushed firmly into the punk's wild hair.
The other man let out a noise that was a cross between surprised and pleased, giving Dean enough time to push his tongue past the other man's lips so that he could sweep it around Cas's tongue ring and over the inside of the other man's cheek. But Castiel soon got with the program, his strong hands finding Dean's waist and fisting themselves in the fabric of his t-shirt tightly enough that Dean wouldn't be surprised if it ripped from the force of the punk's grip.
He didn't understand how the punk could be so wonderful and sexy and blind, but Dean wanted to taste the kindness that lurked, hidden inside the other man; feel it down to the bottom of his toes and bury it deep inside so that he could draw on it later when he needed it. Castiel was strong and beautiful and Dean wanted him so badly that it hurt, but how could he tell the other man that without scaring him away? Without sounding needy and weak and pathetic?
Luckily his thoughts didn't have a chance to get any darker because one well placed nip of his teeth against the punk's bottom lip was all that it took for Cas to let out an oh so sexy growl. The world lurched around Dean and he gasped when his back hit his mattress hard, his head cradled by the other man's hand in his hair so that he didn't hit the headboard when he suddenly found himself pinned beneath Castiel's solid weight.
Cas took advantage of Dean's surprise to start biting and sucking his way down Dean's jaw, earning a moan from him as he clutched onto the punk's sinewy shoulders for dear life. God, he was so hard and they hadn't even been kissing for five minutes, if he had gotten to jerk off before Cas got there then he wouldn't be about to come in his shorts like a complete dork.
"Cas," Dean whimpered, his nails involuntarily digging into the other man's back as the punk started sucking over his pulse point; teeth worrying at the tender skin for an endless second before the other man hummed in acknowledgment of Dean saying his name. It felt like heaven. "I hate to ask you to stop, fuck. But-"
The punk chose that moment to roll his hips down against Dean's, the unmistakable feeling of hardened flesh grinding down against him making it so the only response that Dean could force out was a ragged moan.
"Tell me to stop and I will," Castiel all but growled against his throat, tongue laving against the bruise that he had sucked onto Dean's neck before he stilled his hips and held himself still. "Tell me what you want Dean."
"I need you to stop," Dean whispered, cursing his body because what he wanted and what he needed right now were two completely different things and he hoped the punk understood that he was trying to make a distinction.
Cas let out a shuddering sigh above him, before slowing moving away from him; brushing his stubble and lips against Dean's cheek in the softest most chaste of kisses as he did so. The punk threw himself down into the empty space that Dean had left on the outer edge of the bed and covered his face with his arm, ignoring the blatant bulge in his own jeans even as Dean subtly adjusted himself next to him.
"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean muttered softly, embarrassed by how little control he had over his body around the punk.
He would never live it down if he came like a shot just from the other man kissing him. That first time together, Cas had made him come twice and Dean was bound and determined to blow the other man's mind if he ever a chance to get him in that position again.
"No," Castiel replied, his voice sounding stretched thin. "I got too...yea. I didn't mean to push it that far. We only agreed on kissing, I'm sorry."
Dean had no idea what the other man could possibly be sorry for, he was the one that jumped Cas, not the other way around. But then the punk was suddenly sitting up and making his way across the room towards the door and the only thing that Dean could think was that Cas was leaving. Was fed up with wasting his time on someone as inexperienced as Dean was.
"Cas, don't go," Dean objected, scrambling across his bed after the other man who stopped at his doorway and gave him a pained looking version of his trademarked smirk.
"I'm not leaving, gorgeous," the punk explained, making a vague gesture in the direction of the bathroom with his hand. "I just...I need take care of something or I'm not going to be able to stay in that bed with you and that's exactly where I'd like to be. 'Kay?"
"Oh...right," Dean said quickly, nodding his head even as his cock twitched from all of the images that were immediately brought to mind when he thought of Castiel needing to suddenly rush off to the bathroom. Maybe Cas was just as on edge as he was. "Yea, I'll pause the show. Go ahead."
The punk nodded, raking his eyes over Dean who had ended up on his hands and knees on the bed as he chased after Cas, before letting out a frustrated sounding sigh and disappearing from the doorway. Dean was unsure of how long he would have, but he knew that if he wanted to keep Cas in his bed, but still stay sane there was only one thing he could do.
Falling back against the pillows, Dean fought with the buttons of his fly for a couple of seconds before he managed to get his shorts and boxers pushed down far enough that his cock sprang free. The skin was flushed an angry red and there was already precome glistening at the top, pooling in the concave indentation of his slit. Yea, this definitely wasn't going to take long; especially since he knew that Cas was probably doing the exactly same thing he was in the bathroom down the hall.
Dean didn't even bother with the lube that was in the nightstand right next to his bed, settling for licking a spit-slick stripe up the center of his palm before he wrapped his hand around his cock; setting a pace that was tight and fast and way too dry to feel good if he weren't so worked up already from kissing Cas. It only took a minute or so before he was coming, spilling onto his stomach that had been exposed when he had pushed his shirt up to roll his nipple between his thumb and his forefinger in an effort to get that last little bit of pleasure he needed to push him over the edge.
He had just thrown the tissues that he had used to clean himself up into the trash when Castiel appeared in the doorway, the punk's lips looking bitten and his cheeks flushed with a gorgeous blush that Dean wanted to see again and again.
Dean watched as the other man settled back on the bed near the wall, ignoring the way the sheets were more rumpled from Dean's writhing than they had been before he left and the faint smell of sex and sweat that permeated the air, almost masked by the lingering scent of the spicy, foreign food they had been eating. Castiel ran his fingers through his hair and then patted the space beside him, smiling softly when Dean curled up close to his side again and threw a leg over the punk's.
"Your fly's still open," Cas stated simply after Dean had twisted to click his mouse on the pause button on the screen.
Well, of course it fucking is. Dean thought as he re-buttoned the buttons with a rueful groan and then promptly took it back when Castiel leaned down and kissed him again. Maybe his life wasn't quite so fucked after all.
Author Note: Hey guys! I know updates for everything have been few and far between, but I'm working on it. The overwhelming consensus so far is that California Dreamin' is going to be the next fic I update, so if you read that one just sit tight; it's coming.
Don't be shy in telling me what you think of this chapter, the playlist for this fic will be updated soon on my tumblr so yea, that's all the housekeeping I have. Hugs and Kisses til' next time!