Once again, I can't thank you guys enough for all the reviews and virtual hugs.
Enjoy this one, and accept my offering of fluffiness...the gloves come off on the next one...
September 7, 2015
Castiel stabbed at the ground beef in the pot with a wooden spoon. He was trying very hard not to get angry, but he was growing incredibly weary of Dean saying he'd be home at certain time and then not showing. Benny's truck was in the driveway across the street, and he knew Jo was home, as she'd brought over a piece of mis-delivered mail about twenty minutes prior.
Likely, Dean was alone at Winchester and Sons, doing some kind of work that could probably wait until the next day.
He was getting sick of this. Dean was working all the time, and there didn't seem to be any reason for it. He'd thrown himself into work to the point that Castiel was starting to believe Dean was avoiding him.
"I'll be home by six," he'd said, on his way out the door that morning. Now, it was well after seven, and still no Dean.
Castiel wasn't looking for a fight, really didn't want to have one at all, but he was very irritated by the time Dean showed up at quarter after nine. The shepherd's pie had been done for quite a while, and Castiel had eaten and cleaned up by that time, and settled on the couch with a beer, a single portion of dinner keeping warm in the oven.
"Hey, babe," Dean said tiredly as he closed the front door. He stepped inside the office for a moment to drop off his laptop bag, shuffled some papers around, then reappeared in the kitchen. "Something smells good."
"Dinner," Castiel said shortly.
"Man, I'm tired. I'll be glad when this expansion is done." He opened the oven door, grabbed an oven mitt, and pulled his dinner out. Peeling back the foil, Dean took a deep breath. "Dude, that smells good. Love your cooking."
"Would've probably have tasted better if you'd eaten it when it was actually done," Castiel groused, yanking his body off the couch.
"Probably right," Dean chuckled, but the chuckle turned into a dry cough. Dean banged on his own chest with his closed fist, grimacing.
"Are you alright?" Castiel asked, as he made his way into the kitchen.
"Yeah," Dean wheezed. "Get me a glass of water?"
Nodding, Castiel pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap. Dean was still coughing when he handed it to him, and Castiel rubbed his back until the cough subsided.
"Ugh, that sucked ass," Dean groaned, taking the water from Castiel and taking a big gulp. "Must've gone down the wrong way, huh?"
"Yeah."
Dean finally looked at Castiel, really looked at him. "You're pissed with me," he said flatly.
"A bit."
"I had things I had to do."
"I feel like you're hiding from me."
Dean sighed. "No, it's not that. It's the combined problems of having two incredibly high end, celebrity jobs sitting in the shop and the damn expansion. During the day, I'm wandering the shop, overseeing the people working on the cars, and the construction workers. I just got Madison back, and she's throwing up all the damn time, and I'm probably going to have to fire a couple of the paint guys for stupid shit. Things just kinda suck right now." Dean sank into a stool at the breakfast bar.
"But you're killing yourself. You're not eating enough, you're not sleeping enough, and you're never home."
"I'm doing the best I can. I swear, Cas, I'm not avoiding you. I'm not mad at you." Dean took a few bites of his dinner, while Castiel grabbed a rag and started wiping down the already spotless granite countertop.
"I miss you," he said quietly, hoping he didn't sound like he was sulking.
"I miss you, too."
"It's only Monday. You worked all weekend. I'm…I just want to be with you, Dean. I miss you."
Dean pushed his plate away, and once again, he'd only eaten about a third of his meal. "I'll take this weekend off. I promise. We can go somewhere, or just stay here, and spend the weekend together. Ok?"
"Promise? I mean it, you promise? 'Cause I'll make some plans or something, but only if you're going to stick with it this time."
"I promise, Cas. I swear."
Castiel nodded, and reached for Dean's plate. "I wish you had eaten more."
"I'm sorry, babe. It's delicious, but I'm just not hungry."
"Ok." Castiel scraped the plate into the trash, rinsed it, and added it to the dishwasher with Dean's fork. He started the machine, then looked back at Dean.
His husband was staring off into space, green eyes slightly bloodshot. He was clearly exhausted, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. While he was watching him, Dean started coughing again. "I really don't like the sound of that," Castiel murmured, as he moved behind Dean to rub his back.
"I think it's just allergies. Probably nothing to worry about."
"Well, keep an eye on it, ok?" Dean nodded, as the cough subsided. He drained the rest of his water as Castiel rubbed his back some more, then leaned forward and kissed his neck. "Want to sit in the tub with me for a bit?"
"Oh god, that sounds great. Let me just take my boots off. I'll lock up and meet you up there."
"Ok," Castiel smiled, leaving another little kiss on Dean's neck.
Upstairs, in their spacious bathroom, Castiel started the water, dumping a healthy amount of lavender bath oil into the tub, hoping that maybe the lavender would help Dean sleep. He then lit several candles in the bathroom, then went out to the bedroom, pulling back the bed covers and lighting a few candles in there as well.
He flipped the switch on the little stereo they had in the bedroom, soft music pouring out of the speakers. Then he stripped, tossed his stuff in the hamper, and shut off the lights.
"Whoa, dark in here," Dean said a moment later, entering the room and shutting the door behind him.
Castiel stepped up behind him, sliding his arms around Dean's waist. "Not that dark," he murmured, nosing along Dean's jaw. His hands slipped down to Dean's belt, undoing the buckle with practiced hands. Dean leaned back against him, allowing Castiel to undress him.
He pulled Dean's belt from his black work pants, setting on the dresser behind them, then unzipped the fly. Pulling Dean's shirt out from the pants, he lifted it up and over Dean's head, dropping it into the hamper.
Dean hummed softly as Castiel swept his fingers down Dean's back, leaving a little trail of kisses down his spine. His hands settled on Dean's waist again, pushing his pants down. Dean stepped out of them easily.
"Damn, Cas, you're in a mood tonight, aren't you?" Dean rumbled, leaning his head back against Castiel's shoulder. He used that opportunity to gently bite Dean's exposed neck.
"I told you, I missed you."
"Mmm."
Castiel pulled Dean's boxers off, tossed them in the hamper, and took Dean by the hand, leading him to the bathroom. He shut off the taps on the already full tub, and stepped over the ledge. He sat first, and Dean stepped inside, settling down into the hot water and leaning back against Castiel's chest.
"Oh, god, I need this," Dean groaned, letting his eyes slip shut.
Castiel smiled down at the man in his arms, and kissed his scalp. He'd planned on washing him, but now, he found he'd be just as content to sit there and hold him. They sat quietly for a long time in the hot water, the lavender steam wafting through the bathroom, the flickering candles providing a soft light.
It was peaceful, and comforting, every muscle in Castiel's body relaxing, Dean warm and pliant in his arms.
"Sleepy," Dean murmured softly.
"We've been in here about half an hour. I was hoping it would make you tired. Want to go to bed?"
Dean nodded.
"Ok, sit forward so I can get out."
His husband complied, and Castiel got out first, wrapping himself in a large, fluffy towel, then unfolding one for Dean, who was now leaning back against the tub, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.
"Dean?"
"Mmm?"
"Are you asleep in the tub?"
"Mmhmm."
Castiel smiled. He was so cute, with the freckles and the long lashes, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the bath. A little bubble of contentment burbled up inside of him. "My love, you can't sleep in the tub. The water will get cold. C'mon, I've got a towel. Time to get out."
Dean let Castiel pull him off, and pat him dry. He let Castiel tuck him into the sheets, rolling onto his side as he pulled the blankets up over his shoulder.
Castiel blew out the candles, and drained the tub, hung up their towels, and then crawled in beside Dean.
"Love you," Dean whispered, snuggling into Castiel's shoulder the second the other man's head hit the pillow.
He smiled, and kissed Dean's forehead. "I love you, too. Sleep well."