Boyfriend of Nothing (Part 1)
Dean came out of his sleep steadily and found that the TV was still on and he had basically been sleeping on top of Castiel. The hunter froze, noticing how the Angel's own head was resting slightly on top of his, the chest he was flush against rising and falling gently, the breaths tickling the back of Dean's neck.
More awake now, Dean noticed that the portion of sky that he could see outside was streaked with pinks and oranges while darker hues of purple were just visible above the top of the houses and trees across the street while the lamps outside gave everything a slightly yellow tinge.
Back to assessing his current situation, Dean knew that he should be coming up with a way to get away and be shouting 'eww, what, cuddling?!' or something similar but, in reality, he was entirely content to just stay where he was and just be relaxed for a little while. He vaguely remembered falling asleep so that meant that either he had fallen on to Castiel's shoulder whilst the Angel was asleep (more likely, to Dean, considering how he was still alive and had not been thrown from the sofa or pushed off of the other man, at the very least) or the Seraph had been too tired to move his unconscious body from on top of him. Dean didn't even bother to entertain the idea that, maybe, he had fallen asleep on Cas who didn't mind because he actually feels the same way as Dean feels about him – after all, why would someone - or something - like Cas care about a poor excuse for a human like Dean?
No, instead the elder Winchester began to untangle himself from the Angel without disturbing him – if he stayed there any longer, he'd either break down because he was so close to what he really wanted or because bitterness would make him mad at Castiel even though he knew it wouldn't be justified.
Standing carefully, Dean watched as Cas rolled over slightly to face the back of the sofa and shifted further down into the warmth that the hunter's body had left. Dean was as quiet as he could be when leaving the room, after turning off the television, trying not to slip on the too-smooth wooden floor as he made his way upstairs to shower.
The hunter locked the door to the bathroom after turning on the shower and – using his skills that he had fine-tuned at so many motels – set the water temperature to one that wouldn't boil is skin. He washed quickly, hoping to get some more sleep in if he could; Heaven knew (they probably did, actually) how little he normally slept so, any excuse to get more than four hours, he was going to take it.
Dean was pulling on a clean T-shirt and a pair of jeans, towelling his hair dry when he heard what sounded like something that bordered being a shout and a scream from beyond the bathroom door.
Theories rushed through the hunter's head, each worse than the last: someone's broken in and Cas has attacked them, someone's got in and attacked Cas, what they're hunting has found them and is hurting Cas. His fists were bunched at his sides as he took the stairs in twos and threes, grabbing the end of the bannister and using it to propel himself forward into the living room, adrenalin making everything seem both blurry and in overly-sharp focus, colours stabbing at his eyes as he took everything in.
He rounded the doorway into the living room and found that everything was as he had left it, except Cas was on the floor and he was twitching. As Dean watched, the Angel's body twisted and his right side arched up high, as if moving away from pain as another shout left his mouth; it was sharp and guttural – by Dean's standards, it did not look like a good dream.
The elder Winchester scrambled over to the Seraph and shook his shoulder whilst saying "Cas!"
There was no real response so Dean tried again, shaking his shoulder harder and calling the Angel's name louder.
This time, the Angel's eyes snapped open; the pupils shrinking and a faint white flash dissipating in the depths of blue that seemed so unnatural to the hunter. His arm came up to clutch at Dean's forearm like it had the other night, when he had last been woken from a nightmare.
"Dude, are you okay? I was gone for about ten minutes, I come back and you're having a seizure in your sleep." Dean asked, helping the Seraph up and back onto the sofa before sitting down next to him. He noticed how Castiel seemed a little out of it and shaken, his breathing shaky and shallow.
"I'm fine, Dean." he said and Dean resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows and ask 'Oh, really?'. "However, I now believe I know what we're facing."
Castiel's voice had turned so hard and closed off that the elder Winchester looked over at him. "W- what do you think it is?" Dean knew that if it had the Angel rattled, it was probably something really freaking bad.
"Something I believed to be dead; I believe it to be the old god, Molech." the Angel continued in that tone that reminded the hunter of when they had first met – that night when Dean's whole life had been, once again, flipped over and changed in a flurry of wings, exploding lights and thunder.
Dean gave a small grin that probably ended up more sheepish than apologising. "That would probably make me worry a lot more if I knew who that actually was."
The Angel shot him an exasperated look and the hunter was glad to see that the fear from the dream was receding from his eyes and posture, leaking away until Cas just seemed exhausted. "You have never read the Bible, have you Dean?"
The older brother shook his head slightly and Castiel puffed out a small sigh. "Molech was an old god who ruled and was worshipped in northern Africa. He would demand sacrifices or destroy whole towns and villages. His tributes would be burnt before he would eat their heart, and in return he would grant others to live and a good harvest. The Host was sent millennia ago to dispel his rule and his soulless followers." he explained and the case started to make more sense to Dean.
"So, how do we kill him?"
Cas tilted his head, eyes growing distant. "I believe he was once harmed by his own sacrificial flame so I suppose he can be burnt."
"Provided we use his flame?" Castiel nodded. "I suppose that means we'll have to find him and where he's been cooking these people so we can give him a taste of his own medicine."
Cas' eyes narrowed. "We need to burn him, not try and cure any illness he might have."
Dean couldn't help but huff out a laugh. "It's an expression, Cas, we're not really gonna try and feed him Neurofen or anything."
Castiel's mouth lifted into a hint of a smile, then. "Oh, I understand now. It is rather like Gabriel's testament of 'just deserts'?"
The hunter responded with a small smile of his own. "Yeah, I guess it is." There was a small pause where the two gazed at each other before Dean mentally shook himself, thinking 'Jeez, man, keep it together!' and he stood up. "Uh, do you want something to eat or..." Dean trailed off, at a loss for what to say, whilst heading towards the kitchen.
The hunter went to see what they had left in the cupboards from their only grocery run and found that Dean would probably have just enough to make two relatively decent plates of pasta. He started turning on the oven and getting out dishes as the Angel sat at the table on the other side of the room, arms hugging around his chest as if keeping in warmth.
He probably is, Dean reminded himself; hadn't he said that he was 'as hot as a nuclear reactor' or something but that still wasn't hot enough? And, no, Dean definitely wasn't thinking that Cas still looked pretty hot, especially in jeans that hung on his hips in a relatively obscene way.
No.
Nothing like that.
"I'll take that as you want some of my amazing, five-star pasta then?" Dean smirked over the counter to where Castiel sat.
"Yes, please." The Angel yawned slightly in the middle of his sentence and the hunter didn't think he was cute.
Nope.
Damn, what was happening to him?!
Twenty minutes later, both of them were sitting at the table with a plate of pasta topped off with a generous helping of tomato sauce and meatballs.
Dean was eyeing Castiel – completely discreetly – whilst he seemed to be thinking about something, a fork of pasta forgotten halfway to his mouth. He decided to ask, as the pasta slid back onto the plate without the Angel's realising. "Cas, you okay? You seem a little out of it and if you're not careful, the pasta might get away from you." he nodded towards the strands of spaghetti that were dangling from the Seraph's fork in a last-ditch effort for freedom.
"I'm fine, I was just... Considering how Molech is even here." he placed his fork down and stared at his plate. "I remember that, after the battle and his chariot fell, another Garrison had him bound and chained. They took him away and I heard that it was to Heaven's prison where they keep anything they want to monitor or question, except now he is back on Earth again when that prison is supposedly inescapable."
Dean shrugged. "I would have thought they'd just kill him."
Cas took another stab at his pasta. "Yes, that would also seem more probable." The Angel was worrying his lip slightly, looking at the meatball on his fork as if it could tell him why the god was up and about again.
"If it puts your mind at ease, we'll ask him what happened before we light his ass up like the beacons of Gondor." the hunter grinned as he finished off his own meal and got up to place his plate in the sink; he'd deal with the washing up... when he could be bothered.
The hunter turned back to find Cas creasing his brow in confusion. "Dean, why do you make such references when you know I won't understand them?"
Well that hadn't been the question Dean had expected. "Uh..." he scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know. I guess I just say stuff like that all the time and I just, sort of, forget that you haven't seen the stuff I mention."
The Angel's head tilted. "So, I am like everyone else to you?"
Dean's head snapped up to look at Castiel. "What? Well, no? Yes? I don't know; I mean,you're family, man, I've told you this before." You could be more, Dean added mentally but kept his mouth very firmly shut.
The Seraph's mouth twitched into a small smile that could barely be seen. "I think of you as family, also, Dean."
Once again their eyes locked and neither turned away. It could have been seconds or years before Dean realised what he'd been doing. Promising himself a full mental shake-down and his mind a stern speaking to later, Dean started to move towards the front room.
"Well, I'm gonna hit the hay again, Cas. We can call Sam in the morning, 'kay?" he called over to where he heard Cas clearing away his own plate.
"That sounds reasonable. He is also closer to where Malik worked and seemed to choose his targets, perhaps he can ask other employees about him?" the Angel's head came around the door frame to the hall as he asked.
Dean nodded, his brain already slipping into sleep mode. "Sounds good." Yawning, the hunter sat back down on the sofa, rubbing a hair through his hair unconsciously.
"Goodnight, Dean." Cas said quietly and then the sound of sock-on-laminate footsteps sounded faintly as he made his way up the stairs.
Falling onto his side on the couch, Dean sighed. He was so utterly and truly screwed.
~x~x~x~
When Dean next awoke, he was curled up with the blanket clutched firmly in his hands. He couldn't remember what he had dreamed about but, judging from the light sheen of sweat that seemed to coat his entire body, it hadn't been exactly pleasant.
He grabbed his jacket from where he had put it over the back of the armchair by the window and pulled out his phone. The screen read half past seven and Dean wondered if it was too early to phone his brother. Part of him suggested ringing to wake him up and fulfil his 'douche-y big brother' quota for the next couple of weeks while another part suggested that he'd probably got up to go jogging.
Deciding that, because Sammy was a health-nut, the latter was more likely, Dean decided to get Cas to ring him when he (finally) got up. Pulling his, slightly large, sweatpants slightly tighter so they didn't drag on the floor and trip him up or something, knowing his luck, Dean pulled a T-shirt from the duffel beside the armchair and threw it on before heading towards the kitchen.
The hunter flicked on the coffee machine – possibly the most used thing in the house they were staying in – and set about inspecting the last remains of the bread they had bought. It didn't seem mouldy so it'd, probably, be okay if it was toasted, Dean figured. He made a mental note to do a supply run later.
~x~x~x~
It was ten o'clock when Castiel finally came down into the living room, wearing, the now seemingly customary, three jumpers and a pair of sweatpants. His hair was even more ridiculous than usual with one side flattened whilst the other side was sticking up in every way imaginable.
He sat at the opposite end of the sofa from Dean who was already dressed and sitting with the laptop balanced on his knee as he looked into the Molech guy. He had half-a-dozen other names to go by and had, apparently, been what could be specified as a 'big deal' back in the day. There were even accounts of him being in ancient Roman and Greek scriptures as a god of Carthage before it was burnt down; such a big deal that they specifically raised children to sacrifice. Just reading about it made Dean sick but, hey, this was his job and somebody had to do it.
The elder Winchester brother nodded towards the laptop screen. "I can see why you got rid of this guy; seems like a dick."
The Angel nodded as he rubbed his eyes lightly. "Yes, he was not a kind or loving being. He did not treat his followers adequately." came the gruff voice that was slightly hoarse from sleep.
Dean didn't bother mention how some of the Angels had treated humans but, instead, chose to stay focused on the here and now and that meant the hunt. "Reckon you could explain this to Sammy? Seems like you'd do a better job with it than me, with the whole, you know, having actually fought him and everything." Sometimes Dean forgot that an ancient and celestial being was all cased up behind those blue eyes and trenchcoat but, every now and then, something would happen and the whole reality would crash into him again.
Cas nodded slowly. "Yes, I am happy to inform Sam... But I think my mind requires caffeine first."
The hunter couldn't help but to huff a laugh. "Wow; I've managed to get an Angel addicted to coffee."
A slight scowl met Dean's small grin. "I am not 'addicted'," Cas made the air quotes. "I just find that it helps me to focus and supply a certain amount of energy which feels similar to that normally supplied by my Grace."
Dean's grin only got wider. "Of course you're not addicted, Cas."
Castiel rolled his eyes but headed towards the kitchen.
Figuring that it might as well be done then instead of later, Dean decided he'd go on the supply run now and give Sleeping Beauty some more time to wake up properly. The hunter called as much to Cas - who gave a 'I will see you later then, Dean' in return – as he pulled on his jacket and went out.
Despite it being fairly late in the morning, the air was still cool and only a few thin clouds drifted aimlessly in the large expanse of pale blue sky. It was so fitting of Dean's view of what the 'apple pie life' looked like, that he half expected the Leave it to Beaver theme to start playing in the background.
Heading over to Baby, he unlocked the door and climbed in, smiling slightly as he turned the key and she purred to life – if there was a downside to this case and playing house, it was that he wasn't getting enough quality time with his car.
The drive to the supermarket took no longer than fifteen minutes on the almost-empty streets of the small town, and by twenty-five minutes past ten, Dean was pulling into the small parking lot for the Springdale Fields' only supermarket; a fairly miniature store called Fareway that proclaimed its name in simple, yet large, red letters above a banner of yellow with a red stripe. Honestly, it looked like one of the stores that Sam would more likely visit rather than him.
The elder brother smiled slightly at the thought of Sam loving the 'economical food store' - as the sign boasted – so much that he'd write to the owners and get them to open a store in Sioux Falls so he could get all his rabbit food cheaply whilst staying with Bobby.
Humming Shoot to Thrill under his breath, Dean grabbed a basket from beside the automatic doors and went into the – thankfully, well air conditioned – store. The inside was brightly lit with aisles, each sporting 'only $1!' or 'now half price!' deals on every other shelf, stretching out in front of him and then through the rest of the store to his right.
Dean made quick work of finding all of the essentials that they would need to live in the picturesque town for another... However long it took to find and burn this Molech guy. Dean was just deciding between which pie he was going to buy – cherry or apple, tough decision – when he heard an angry whisper behind him.
"Yeah, that's the other one." came an angry hiss from a relatively high voice.
Dean looked down the aisle and then behind him. He was the only other one in this section apart from the middle-aged couple behind him. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" he asked, plastering on a small grin. Maybe they had him confused with someone else.
"We don't need any help from your kind." sneered the man. He was about a head shorter than Dean and balding. His wiry frame covered in a pale blue button down that seemed, at least, three sizes to large while worn khakis hung from a tight belt at his waist.
"I'm sorry, what?" The hunter didn't recognise him at all but he was already getting under his skin.
"You're the other half of that gay couple." the woman almost spat, casually placing a jar of something in the trolley she was pushing.
It suddenly made sense to Dean and, even if he was pretending, it made his blood boil – it wasn't even there business! "Okay, I really don't mean to offend but is it your problem if-"
"The other faggot was in the church on Sunday; personally I don't think they should let you lot in a sacred place like that." she continued as if Dean had never spoke. Her auburn hair was pulled tightly back off her face and into a ponytail, stretching out her features until it was almost painful to look at. Narrow eyes were framed by thin glasses whilst her sneering lips were coated in bright red. She wore a simple T-shirt with blue sleeves and jeans but both looked worn.
The hunter almost smiled slightly at the irony but he was too stunned by what they had just said. Sure, he knew people could be homophobic but just starting an argument – heck, in public – seemed slightly of the ridiculous side. Dean figured it could have been worse, however; they could have openly attacked him physically but they seemed – or, at least, Dean hoped they were – more civilised than that.
Narrowing his eyes, the eldest Winchester drew himself up to his full height. "Not that it really has anything to do with you, but I am perfectly happy with my sexuality, so I guess you can just move along."
Taking a step closer, the other man tried to look down on Dean but failed quite miserably. Maybe he will try to attack me, the hunter thought. As the balding man opened his mouth to spit something else, someone Dean did recognise turned into the aisle.
"Oh, knock it off, Gerald. You're not scaring anybody." Daniel, Rachel's husband, sighed, his own basket held tightly in his right hand.
The other man - Gerald, Dean reminded himself – looked as if he was going to argue but Daniel gave him a look that Dean was pretty sure could rival Sammy's infamous bitchface. Dean simply raised his eyebrows as Gerlad's wife, he presumed, glared at him before they left the aisle.
Dan sighed again, relaxing a little now they had left and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Yeah, those two are a pain in everyone's back side; I feel sorry for their children."
"They have children?" Dean asked, honestly surprised. "Well, I feel sorry for them too."
Daniel puffed out a humourless laugh. "Yeah, well... Oh, before I forget. Josh told me to invite you and Cas to his birthday 'get together' – his words, not mine – on Friday. Said he meant to tell everyone on Saturday but forgot." Daniel rolled his eyes. "Do you know where he and Cathy live?"
The hunter thought back to all the people he'd met on Saturday. He remembered talking to Cathy, at least, but he couldn't really remember the guy with her. "Uhh, yeah, I think so? Elm Street, right? Number... Six, I think?" Damn, he could remember basically the entirety of his dad's journal but not a freaking address.
"Number sixteen." Dan correct and Dean nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "Myself and Rachel are going too, so I guess I'll see you there. And if you run into Gerald again, just say that you know what he used to keep in his shed and he'll clam right up." Daniel's grin was slightly mischievous and reminded Dean of himself a little.
"Do I want to know?" the elder Winchester inquired.
Daniel laughed as he started to walk away. "It's not that bad. I'll see you on Friday." he waved slightly before disappearing around the corner.
Maybe I'm not the only one with a few secrets, Dean thought idily.
A/N: Fareway is a real chain of supermarkets that can be found in multiple states including Iowa; I looked all this stuff up specifically, talk about dedication! As for opening in Sioux Falls on Sam's request, welp, I can tell you that they did open a store there in 2013.
This chapter has been cut in half as otherwise it would have turned into a complete monster and I also just want to give a heads up to the 'this is a grace' mix on 8tracks radio by lettersofstars for being the perfect Destiel mix.
'Thank you's to everyone favourite/following/reviewing either here or on AO3 and to my beta, infinitejellybean, for giving me the encouragement to actually get some writing done...