Daylight dragged Dean into reluctant wakefulness, the memory of his dream already fading. He cracked open one eye and squinted at the clock: a little after 5am. Rolling onto his back, he sighed.
Beside him, Cas stirred. "Hmm, what time is it?" he mumbled.
"Early. Go back to sleep."
"Are you?"
"What?"
"Going back to sleep?"
"No. I'm too awake."
Castiel rubbed at his eyes then blinked several times. "So am I." He slipped a hand under Dean's t-shirt, rubbing his hand across his stomach as he snuggled closer.
Cas's hand was warm on his skin and, despite recent events, he found his body responding to the innocent touch.
"You know, I meant what said," he told Cas. "I want more time with you."
Castiel reached up to stroke Dean's cheek. "And I pray I have many more years with you."
"Is that what you were doing last night? Praying?"
"When?"
"Once we got to bed you were muttering, but too quietly for you to be talking to me."
Castiel was silent for a long time. "I was thanking God," he said eventually.
"Thanking Him?!" Dean exclaimed, shifting away from Cas. "You should be cursing Him! He took Bobby from us!"
Guilt flickered across Cas's face. "I know, but—"
"But nothing!" Dean spat.
"But He didn't take you, too!" Cas yelled. "I thanked him for sparing you - for not making me lose two of the people I care most about on the same day!"
Stunned into silence, Dean simply stared at him as he continued speaking.
"I wish Bobby was still here just as much as you do! He gave you a chance, and he gave me a chance. Neither of us would be where we are without him. But as much as we wish otherwise, he's gone," Cas acknowledged, his voice breaking over the harsh truth. "But you're not. I still have you, and I'm not going to apologise for being grateful for that!"
He was crying by the time he'd finished, and Dean's heart was breaking.
"We've got more time," Dean assured him. "And I want to stop wasting it." He rolled Cas onto his stomach, pinning him beneath him.
Cas arched his back, practically whining as he rubbed back against Dean. Then he felt the tremor in Dean's hand as it stroked down his side.
"Dean."
"What?" his boyfriend replied between kisses to his shoulder.
"Dean."
"What?!"
"Stop!" Cas caught his trembling hand as it reached the waistband of his underwear.
"Cas, I want to," Dean said, sounding shocked.
So do I. Cas looked back over his shoulder. "I don't."
Hurt flashed across Dean's face.
"Not like this."
Dean huffed disbelievingly as he rolled over to his side of the bed, because he knew Cas wanted this. Wanted him.
"Look me in the eye, and tell me that this isn't because of Bobby," Cas said, turning over to face Dean. "That it's because you're ready."
"I... I want to," Dean told him, reaching out with a shaking hand.
Cas took it and squeezed. "But you're not ready."
Dean sighed reluctantly. "No."
"I'd rather wait a little longer, than take one step forward and two steps back when you regret moving too fast."
"'Too fast'," Dean scoffed, because he'd waited longer by far with Cas than with anyone else. He pulled his hand out of Castiel's, and draped his arm across his face. "I'm sorry, Cas."
Cas sat up and tugged Dean's unwilling arm away, forcing him to look at him. "Don't hide from me. Please don't ever hide from me."
"I want more, Cas. I'm just..."
"Not ready," Cas finished for him. "It's okay." Dean looked unconvinced, as Cas stroked his arm and wondered if there was some kind of compromise they could come to. "Use your hands on me, Dean?" he asked a moment later. When Dean looked at him, he asked, "Touch me." It was something he'd been fantasising about for so long... "Just touch me."
There was a hunger in Dean's eyes as they roved over Cas's body, warring with anxiety as he swallowed. "You know I've never... We've never..."
"I know."
Even when Dean had taken a damp cloth to their bodies, he'd never actually touched Cas's dick. He felt like he was back in high school, confidence fading as he realised that he'd never put theory into practice before. He'd put on a mask, then; forced the confidence he hadn't felt. Because there was all that sexist crap about men being in control, and not allowed to show weakness. He'd paid attention to what Pamela had said, even if he hadn't believed in it straight away. But he was allowed to be nervous, and unsure. Even if, as Cas had said, it wasn't like he'd never touched a dick before. He was very familiar with his own, though not so much in recent months. It just hadn't felt right to.
He ran his hands up Castiel's strong, hairy thighs, appreciating what all the jogging did for his body, before coming to a stop at his hips. He rubbed his thumbs along Cas's very prominent hip bones, glancing up and finding himself awestruck by the sheer unabashed lust written all over his boyfriend's face.
"You really want this, huh?" he smirked.
Castiel lay back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation of Dean's caress. "So much, Dean. I want you so much."
Dean's hands moved higher, fingers trailing over defined muscles and ribs, teasing at hardened nipples—
He laid a hand over Bobby's heart, feeling the slight rise and fall of his chest.
"Does it feel weird to be doing this?" he asked, hands faltering a little. "I mean, it was only yesterday..."
Cas opened his eyes and looked at him. "We're alive. I don't think Bobby would want us to forget that."
"It feels like we're forgetting him, though. To just... wake up the next day, and move on."
Cas leaned up to kiss him. "We're not forgetting him." Holding Dean's gaze as he stroked his fingers through Dean's hair, he assured him, "We'll never forget him." He then slipped his hand into Dean's boxers and cupped his half-hard cock with more confidence than he felt. The warm weight felt good in his hand; felt right. How would he ever have managed to spend a lifetime trying to be someone he wasn't, if his father had successfully managed to marry him off?
Refusing to dwell on the past, he dragged himself back to the present, and Dean. He wanted to try something - if Dean would let him. "Why don't I help you relax?" he asked, stroking Dean's rapidly hardening length. "And then you can take care of me?"
Not trusting himself to speak, Dean simply nodded.
Cas eased his boyfriend onto his back, glad that Dean was feeling secure enough in himself to once again sleep shirtless. Running his hands across Dean's chest, he smiled and lowered his mouth to trail kisses down across his stomach, tongue darting briefly into his navel. Cas's actions made Dean flinch and chuckle as he followed the trail of hair down to the waistband of his boxers. He paused for a moment, vaguely remembering that he'd once wondered how low Dean's freckles went.
"Cas," Dean breathed as fingers curled into the elastic and began to pull down.
Slowly, teasingly slowly, the fabric was dragged across his dick. But was Cas teasing Dean, or himself? Or perhaps both of them? Finally he sprang free - disappointingly, not a freckle to be seen - and Cas yanked his shorts down the rest of the way, tossing them onto the floor before lying down with his face beside Dean's crotch.
And oh, God, was Cas going to—
Castiel took Dean in his hand, stroking him several times.
He should probably say something.
Cas took the tip of him into his mouth, slowly getting a feel for it, and revelled in the groan pulled from deep in Dean's throat.
"Cas, if you don't want to—"
"I want to."
"Okay, good. Good! I just meant that if you didn't... don't... then don't feel like you have to."
Cas raised an eyebrow. "I'm a big boy, Dean - no-one can make me do anything that I don't want to do."
A chuckle burst past Dean's lips. "I've seen you, Cas - you're not that big!" He coughed. "I mean, not that you're small either..."
Cas tilted his head, eyes shining in amusement as he listened to Dean dig himself into a hole. Luckily for Dean, he wasn't easily insulted. "The human body comes in all shapes and sizes - why should our genitals be any different?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"Look, I just meant that a lot of women— people, they don't want to... you know." He gestured down at Cas who, until he'd spoken, had been doing exactly what he was talking about.
"I want to," Cas stated. As if to emphasise his point, he licked up the length of Dean's cock before circling the head with his tongue.
Dean let his head fall back on the pillow and groaned again.
He licked another line down to the base, stroking him with a lazy hand as he mouthed at Dean's balls. This elicited another slew of noises from Dean whose cheeks were flushed now, a little embarrassed at his lack of restraint.
"Fuck! Have you been reading up on this, too?"
"No, but I did ask Balthazar for a few tips." Cas looked irritated all of a sudden. "He asked if I was having an affair to 'get my rocks off'."
"Can you please not bring up Balthazar or anyone else when we're— Hang on, he thought you were being unfaithful?!" Dean was looking down at Cas again, eyebrows raised.
"More like he made a bad joke, because he couldn't believe we were finally sexually active. He says he'll be thrilled when I lose my virginity."
Dean opened and closed his mouth, wondering if Castiel would lose his virginity when he bottomed, or— He swallowed. —topped. Or maybe it didn't matter?
"He was less than thrilled when I pointed out that virginity is an outdated social construct designed to control women and should therefore not only be irrelevant in modern society but is irrelevant in a relationship between two men," Cas continued, oblivious to Dean's inner musings.
Dean barked a laugh. "You know, for someone who had a very sheltered upbringing, you're pretty socially aware."
Cas shrugged. "You learn things at university that have nothing to do with your course. Now may I continue, or would you like to continue discussing the concept of virginity?"
"Continue, please," Dean told him, dropping his head back on the pillow once more.
This time when Cas took Dean's dick back into his mouth, he took him in a little further. No more than was comfortable because, as Balthazar had informed him, "The ability to deep throat someone's cock is sexy. Choking, gagging, and throwing up on them is not." The look on Balthazar's face had made Cas wonder if he was speaking from personal experience, but he had decided against asking.
The warm weight of Dean in his mouth was pleasant, and rather enjoyable; however the salty taste was less so. He would apparently learn to like it, or at least get used to it, though. Above him, Dean protested as his teeth accidentally scraped against his sensitive skin. Castiel's eyes snapped open and he hummed by way of apology. The noises that Dean made then were far more positive, so he hummed again.
Cas had one hand wrapped around Dean's cock as his mouth worked the rest, slurping occasionally as he kept a simple rhythm. For Dean, the lack of technique wasn't that much of an issue - technique could be learned. Enthusiasm, however, was something you either had or you didn't.
"Hey, Cas?"
Cas pulled off his cock with a wet pop and stretched his jaw before replying. "Am I doing something wrong?"
"No! No, it's just... What Balthazar said..."
Cas raised an eyebrow. "I thought we weren't to bring him up when we were engaging in sexual activities?" he teased.
"Hey, you started it!" Dean reminded him. Then, more quietly, he asked, "But would you?"
"Would I what?"
Dean was silent for a long moment.
"Would I cheat?!" Cas exclaimed angrily, once he realised what Dean was asking.
"If Pamela hadn't helped me, and we weren't doing any of this, I'd understand if you did. And maybe, if you were still coming home to me, I'd be okay with it."
Cas stared at him. "Dean Winchester, you would not be 'okay' if I were sleeping with other people!"
"I'd just want you to have what you need!"
Cas dragged a hand down his face and shook his head.
"What if we... do it... and I don't like it? What if—"
"Then we won't do it."
"You can't really believe that—"
"It's you that I need," Cas stated firmly. "Do you like this?" he asked, mouthing at Dean's cock again.
Dean's breath shook. "God, yes!"
"So do I. And I know you like it when we, um, rub together," he said, stroking Dean's hard length as he spoke, "so it's not like either of us are going to be left unsatisfied if you don't enjoy penetrative sex with me."
Dean draped an arm over his face. "Can you not say 'penetrative'?! You make it sound so... unsexy."
"I think you're grieving," Cas stated, refusing to be drawn off-topic. "And I think that you feel vulnerable. And I think that that scares you."
Underneath his arm, Dean nodded. "'M sorry," he whispered. "I'm not making any sense."
"Do you want me to stop?" Cas asked him.
Dean shook his head. "No." His hand found Cas's hair as he felt the wet warmth of his mouth envelop his cock again. Moments later, his fingers curled in the unruly dark mess as Cas brought him to the edge. "Cas, I'm going to... You don't have to..."
As Dean shot into his mouth, Cas choked a little but swallowed and continued to mouth his boyfriend's softening cock until he was hissing at its over-sensitivity.
"Come here," Dean said, pulling Cas up and sliding a hand into his boxers.
It definitely felt weird. Not the 'having a cock in his hand' bit, because that wasn't a feeling he was unused to, but his brain was half-expecting to feel his hand on his own dick. And the angle was awkward, but it didn't seem to bother Cas who was breathing heavily and thrusting into his hand desperately.
"Oh, Dean... Dean... Yes, yes... Ugh..."
He slumped against Dean, dick twitching against his thigh, and sighed contentedly.
Dean looked at his hand, pulled a face, then wiped his hands on the sheets. "It feels so weird to be doing that to another guy, but pretty cool at the same time."
When Cas snuggled closer, Dean wrapped his arms around him while automatically denying that he was a cuddler.
Cas snorted. "Please! You're an octopus."
But Dean was too busy laughing to respond.
"What?"
Dean grunted like a pig, mocking the noise Castiel had made.
"Shut up!" Cas giggled, snorting again as he tried to suck in air between bursts of laughter.
Dean rolled him over, snorting and grunting his way along Cas's jaw and neck and up to his ear. "If I'm an octopus, then you're a pig," Dean chuckled between grunts. His shoulders shook as his laughter ebbed.
When tears landed on Cas's skin, he realised Dean wasn't shaking with laughter anymore, but rather with tears. He held Dean until his tears dried, holding him flush against his chest and stroking a hand through his hair the way that Dean was reluctant to admit to enjoying.
Eventually the insistent beep beep beep of their alarm clock had Dean dragging himself out of Castiel's embrace with a sigh.
"I'm going to come into work with you this morning," Cas told him as he got out of bed.
"You're not going jogging today?"
"No. I want to be there with you when you tell the others."
Dean slumped down on the mattress again. "Shit. I didn't think... What do I tell them?"
Cas took a breath, then slowly let it out before answering. "You tell them the truth. That there was a drive-by shooting last night, and Bobby... Bobby..."
"You can't even say it. How'd you expect me to—"
"We'll figure it out," Cas assured him. "Now hurry up if you're going to the bathroom, because I need a shower, too. We'll want to make sure we're at the garage before the others get there."
Licking his lips, Dean glanced at him. "We could always shower together. I mean, we both need one. And it'd save time."
Smiling, Cas reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. "Alright."
Showering together was better in theory than in practice - there wasn't enough room for both of them under the spray, and there were a couple of moments when they nearly slipped trading places to rinse off. But it added another layer of intimacy to their relationship, Cas felt, as they washed each others' backs and their nudity became comfortable and less sexual. They both checked the other out as they soaped up their bodies, and their eyes occasionally met but there was no embarrassment there. Cas was confident in his skin, and Dean was growing to be more secure with the fact that he wasn't as good shape as he thought he should be.
While there wasn't a lot of room to shower together, there was even less to stand side-by-side at the sink. Dean had taken his turn at the sink while Cas got dressed and put the coffee pot on. Slightly more awake now that caffeine was buzzing through him, Cas kept a careful eye on the razor in the mirror as he swept it across his skin, rinsing it under the tap before repeating the motion.
"Are you going to be long?" Dean asked, walking in. "I need to take a leak."
Rolling his eyes because Dean could have gone five minutes ago, Cas told him, "I'm nearly done. But just go if you're desperate."
He caught Dean's hesitation in the mirror.
"I don't know - are we there, yet?"
"'There'?" Cas echoed.
"Yeah. You know - going when the other person's in the room?"
"It wouldn't be the first time," Cas pointed out. "We've gone in public restrooms together."
"Yeah, but that's not— Oh, never mind," Dean said, squeezing past and yanking his zipper down.
Cas washed the excess shaving foam off his face and patted himself dry. As Dean moved to wash his hands, Cas stepped away from the sink and rubbed lotion into his face and neck.
"Cas."
"Yes, Dean?"
"What are you doing?"
"Moisturising."
Dean rolled his eyes dramatically before replying. "I can see that."
"Then why did you ask?"
"Why are you moisturising?"
"I have skin..?" Cas trailed off questioningly, unsure why he shouldn't moisturise.
"But you're a guy."
Castiel paused, processing Dean's objection before speaking. "Do men not have skin?" he reasoned patiently.
"Well, yeah, but..."
"So why shouldn't I moisturise it?"
"Because. Guys don't... do that."
"In the same way that men don't cry? Or fall in love with other men?
Dean exhaled slowly, realising what Cas was saying.
"You always compliment me on my soft skin," Cas pointed out, rubbing more cream into his neck.
"You're right," Dean conceded, stepping closer. His hands found Castiel's waist and moved forward, fingers splaying over his toned stomach to hold him close.
Cas shot him a smug look in the mirror. "I know I am."
A moment passed, before Dean asked, "Is that stuff any good?"
Cas reached for one of his hands, raising it to his face. "You tell me."
Dean stroked a finger across his cheek. "Hmm... soft."
"Do you want some?"
Dean met Castiel's eyes in the mirror and held his questioning gaze. "Oh, go on, then," he said, trying to sound like Cas had twisted his arm and he wasn't, in fact, a little curious.
The smirk he got as Cas turned around told him that his attempt had failed, but he didn't say anything as Cas began massaging moisturising cream into Dean's skin. As he did, Dean caught sight of the label.
"What's so special about that stuff, anyway?" he asked.
Cas took a little more and started rubbing that in, too. "What do you mean?"
"That it's specifically 'For Men'? Why isn't it the same as the stuff women use? Why do we need our own?"
Cas paused, and looked at him. "Because of the way you just reacted when you saw me moisturising."
Again with the inadvertent sexism that had been drilled into him his whole life without him realising it. "Huh."
Cas cupped Dean's cheek in his palm, stroking his thumb along his cheekbone. "Soft," he smiled.
. * * * .
They were late arriving at the garage that morning. A heavy weight settled in Dean's stomach as he took in the building, all closed up. Sheriff Mills was in conversation with the other mechanics and Charlie as they got out of the car and trudged over to them. The crime scene tape was flapping in the wind, and Dean forced himself not to look at the dark stain on the concrete.
"Dean," Benny called out, interrupting Jody as he strode over and looked him up and down. "The sheriff told us what happened - how're you doing, brother?"
Dean swallowed.
"I don't think it's fully set in, yet," Cas answered for them both.
"I wasn't expecting you to be here," Dean said to Jody.
"Well, I needed to talk to everyone. I figured you'd all be here. And I wasn't sure how much of what I was saying last night was really sinking in."
"Probably not a lot," Dean acknowledged, giving Cas's hand a squeeze when it slipped into his.
"Dean, I'm going to need to take a formal statement from you. I'll want to interview everyone, but at the moment you're our only witness."
"But this was Bobby's place," Andy said suddenly. "What happens to it now? I mean, do we need to start looking for other jobs?" When everyone looked at him, he looked embarrassed. "Sorry, this probably isn't the right time. But I'm getting married - I need to know, you know?"
Benny squeezed his shoulder.
"It's okay," Cas assured him. "We're probably all wondering the same thing."
"And it's a fair question," Jody said. "But that's a question for lawyers. In the meantime, however, you'll have to close up."
"What?!" the mechanics exclaimed in unison.
"No owner, no business," Cas said, understanding.
Jody nodded sadly. "Not only that, it's a crime scene. Even if Bobby hadn't... Even if Bobby had survived, I couldn't release it yet."
"What about our customers?"
"You'll need to call them. Ask them to collect their cars; tell them they'll need to make alternate arrangements."
Dean felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Bobby had given him a chance when no-one else would - who else would be willing to do the same? For him? Cas was just starting his Saturday job at the library, but that wasn't going to be enough to feed them, let alone pay their rent and all their other bills...
"Cas, do you want to make a start on that?"
"I'll help him," Charlie spoke up, sounding glad to be able to do something.
"Andy, Benny, if you could make sure that customers' cars are out of the garage and ready to go. Dean, do you mind if we do this in my car?"
He shook his head mutely and let her lead the way.
. * * * .
It was nearly lunchtime by the time Jody had spoken to them all and Cas had contacted all their customers, at which point Benny told Dean and Cas to go home - he and Andy planned to stay to deal with customers who came to collect their vehicles and try again to get through customers who Cas had been unable to reach.
"STOP!"
Dean slammed on the breaks, causing the driver behind honking his horn.
"What—" he started to ask, but Cas was already unbuckling his belt and getting out of the car. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, signalling and performing an illegal u-turn as Cas dashed back to the garage.
With an apologetic and grateful wave at the irritated drivers he'd given no choice but to stop and let him manoeuvre, he drove back into the garage lot. He'd barely parked outside the office and stepped out of the car, when Cas appeared carrying a stuffed bag and a wriggling box.
"Oh, no," he said. "No!"
But Cas ignored him, clambering into the front seat.
"Have you gone deaf? Because I'm pretty sure I just heard myself say 'No!'"
"Benny's apartment doesn't allow pets, and Tracey has allergies."
"I have allergies!" Dean complained, already grabbing the bag out from beside Cas's feet and tossing it in the back seat. This wasn't an argument he was going to win - he could tell by the stubborn determination on Cas's face - but that didn't mean he wasn't going to put up a fight.
"You already have medication, and Chuck knows our apartment."
"I hate that thing!"
"No, you don't."
Chuck popped his head out of the box and meowed.
"He has nowhere else to go."
"The animal shelter?" Dean suggested half-heartedly. "Hey, what about Charlie?"
Cas ignored him.
Dean watched as Chuck tried to sink into the box again, but got his head caught in the flaps. His little head bobbed up and down, before he gave up and mewled pathetically.
Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "At least he's bigger now, and won't get lost in any more tissue boxes!"
"Come here," Cas cooed, pulling a flap aside and pushing Chuck's head down.
But Chuck sensed freedom, squeezed out, and leapt out and into the back seat.
"Hell no! Get it back in the box." He dragged a hand across his face as Cas threw himself ungainly into the back seat. "Hey, the rules are simple - you don't take a joint from a guy named Don, and there's no dogs in the car!"
"I have no idea who Don is, and Chuck is not a dog."
"Dog, cat, same rule applies," Dean grumbled. "It stays in the box."
"It's still in the car," Cas pointed out as he wrestled Chuck back into the box.
Once the flaps were firmly tucked in place, and muffled sad noises could be heard from within, Dean asked, "Now can we go?"
"Yes." As Dean started the car up again, he asked him, "Who's Don?"
Dean grit his teeth, and his jaw clenched visibly. "Don let the cat out of the box until we get home."
Cas rolled his eyes, but let the matter drop.
. * * * .
Dean went to hang his coat up as he got in, but it missed the hook and fell to the floor. He either didn't notice or didn't care; trudging through to the kitchen to get a beer. Cas picked his coat up and watched him carry the drink through to the living room. As much as he himself was grieving, his heart was breaking for Dean's loss.
By the time he'd released Chuck, shutting him in the kitchen, and followed Dean through, half the bottle was already gone - his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Castiel's tongue ran along his lower lip. He watched as Dean hunched over, cradling the bottle in his hands like a lifeline; clutching it so tightly that Cas was afraid it would shatter. Fearful that Dean, too, was close to shattering, he walked over and gently prised the bottle from his grip, placing it on the table before straddling him.
"Cas..." Dean choked brokenly.
"Shhh," Cas hushed him, placing his fingers over Dean's mouth.
Dean's lips parted at his touch.
Cas held his gaze for a long moment, reading the silent plea there to help me. Dean was hurting, and lost. He wanted to feel something and nothing. He rubbed his fingers along Dean's lower lip, then back again.
Dean's mouth fell open a little more.
Cas cupped his jaw, taking in the scattering of freckles across his boyfriend's nose. Angel kisses, someone had once said. He had been named after an angel, or so his father had told him. All the men in his family had been. He stroked Dean's cheeks with his thumbs as he lowered his face to kiss his nose, his cheek, his nose again; peppering kisses across the dusting of darker spots across his face before finally, finally, kissing Dean's mouth.
Dean gasped an exhale into Castiel's mouth as the dam burst, his anticipation flowing out of him in a rush. He opened his mouth wider, letting Cas in, giving himself completely to the man who had broken down his walls and rebuilt him into a better, stronger person; the man he trusted to prevent him from crumbling under the weight of his guilt and grief.
As Cas kissed him, he could feel Dean's cheeks growing wetter beneath his thumbs. He knew he didn't have the words Dean needed, so he simply kissed him harder and, given the way Dean clung to him, that seemed to be enough. For now.
. * * * .
A ringing disturbed them some time later, once Dean had pulled Cas down to lie across him and they'd lain in silence so long that they'd started to doze. Cas spread his fingers under Dean's shirt, flattening his palm over Dean's heart, feeling it beat beneath his palm. Feeling the sharp scratch of claws. He opened his eyes. Chuck had 'captured' his hand and began to gnaw it through Dean's t-shirt.
"Hey. No." He shooed the kitten away, wondering how it had escaped the kitchen. Perhaps he hadn't closed the door firmly enough?
"Ah-CHOO!"
Beneath Cas Dean shifted, digging into his pocket having realised the ringing was coming from his phone. Cas pulled a clean tissue from his own pocket and handed it to Dean silently as he listened into one half of Dean's conversation.
"Huh? What? ... Oh, okay. ... Yeah. ... Uh-huh. ... No, don't— SH!"
Cas frowned as Dean froze.
"Shit." Dean let out a less convincing sneeze.
Cas raised a puzzled eyebrow.
"I don't know. ... I mean, yeah. Probably. ... Where? ... Okay, yeah. Fine. ... We'll be there."
"We'll be where?" Cas asked as Dean hung up.
"At the Roadhouse. Benny and Andy want to grab dinner. Have a few drinks. How did the cat get out?"
"I don't know."
"You did shut it in, right?"
"Of course I did! Do you think I'd give him free reign of the apartment because I'd love it if you kept me awake all night sneezing?"
"I suppose not," Dean conceded with a soft smile. "Get him back in the kitchen, hmm?"
"Yes, Sir!" Cas gave him a mock salute as he staggered to his feet. "Come on, you - get back in the kitchen. ... No, don't 'meow' me - you know you don't get in here. ... Well you shouldn't have come in here if you didn't want to get chased out!"
. * * * .
As they walked into The Roadhouse and his fellow mechanics waved them over to a table, it struck Dean that he really didn't want to be there. But he sat down, ordering a beer when Jo came over, and giving Ellen a hug when she joined them for a toast in Bobby's memory.
He and Cas hadn't had any lunch but, although he knew he should feel hungry, he had no appetite. The burger he ordered seemed tasteless, though no-one else had any complaints about their food.
Reliving the attack on the garage for Sheriff Mills that morning had left him with an empty feeling that he couldn't shake, so he settled for trying to numb it instead. He ordered beer after beer, turning to whisky as their table was cleared and he lost interest in their inane chatter. Who cared what theme Tracey was planning for her and Andy's wedding, or if Benny was thinking about visiting his ex in Greece?
Eventually the other two left, and Dean ordered another drink.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Cas asked him. "You've had a lot already."
"Let him drown his sorrows, Castiel," Ellen said disapprovingly, herself on the verge of slurring.
"Come on, Mom - why don't you take a break, hmm?" Jo said, herding her into the back room that Dean was very familiar with.
"I don't envy Jo tonight - having to deal with drunk customers and a drunk mother."
"Ellen can hold her liquor," Dean argued.
"Yes," Cas agreed, "but even she has her limits, and I think she's reached them tonight. And so have you."
"I used to drink more than this."
"And then you stopped, and now you drink a lot less. Let's go home."
"You go if you want to. I'm staying here."
"You could stay here alone, or you could take home the hottest guy in the room?" Cas kidded.
Dean looked him up and down. "Do you think I could get lucky?" he asked.
Cas leaned closer. "Take me home," he whispered in his boyfriend's ear.
"I'm gonna get lucky!" Dean declared loudly, causing Castiel to blush.
Across the room, a burly biker wolf-whistled. "Go get him, tiger!"
"Risin' up," Dean sang, getting to his feet, "back on the street, did my time, took my chances."
"Oh, no," Cas said, reaching to grab Dean as he swayed.
"Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet. Just a man and his will to survive..."
"You know there's a reason we don't do karaoke?" Jo joked from across the bar. "He'd put us out of business!"
"So many times, it happens too fast..."
Grabbing their jackets, Cas herded Dean to the exit.
"...you trade your passion for glory. Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past, you must fight just to keep them alive..." As the fresh air hit them, Dean choked back a sob. "You must fight just to keep them alive," he repeated in a mumble.
"Let's get this on you," Cas said, fighting to get Dean's arms in the sleeves of his jacket while keeping Dean upright.
"I'm getting lucky," Dean told him.
Cas huffed a soft chuckle and shook his head.
"I am lucky."
When Cas looked up, he met Dean's gaze - open and sincere. He swallowed. Dean found it so hard to be quite so open with him when sober, having guarded himself for so long. Although he was getting better at communicating his feelings, it still stunned Cas to see how freely it was possible for Dean to show his affection for him.
"I love you so much," he told his boyfriend.
Dean jerked, spun around, and vomited.
"And with that, the moment has passed," Cas said, rolling his eyes and rubbing Dean's back to soothe him. "That's it... Let it all out."
In the end it took them almost an hour to get home, as Dean had to stop another two times to throw up on the sidewalk and in a bush. When, eventually, Cas got him inside their apartment, he had to drag a drunken Dean into the bathroom.
"Want to sleep," Dean complained.
"Face and teeth first," Cas commanded.
"Then I can sleep?"
"Then you can sleep," Cas promised.
"Okay."
Ten minutes later, Cas was doing his best to undress a snoring Dean before he tried to roll him over enough to pull the covers out from underneath him. "You're lucky I love you," he told him half-heartedly. The truth was, he was afraid that this wasn't just grief but that Dean was going to regress back into the drinker he'd been when Cas had first met him. While his boyfriend wasn't an alcoholic, he relied too much on alcohol to numb whatever feelings or memories he didn't want to deal with. It wasn't healthy to bury emotions and responses. He knew that, and he knew that Dean knew that. But knowing that didn't mean that it was easy to take the healthy route - sometimes, escape seemed easier.
