My 190-Pound Life

by crazyassCas

12 years ago, Dean underwent a life-changing surgery that completely turned his life around. He's stuck to the lifestyle changes, and he never thought he'd get this far. When he meets Cas, a chubby stoner in his mid-twenties, everything is perfect. But when Cas' lifestyle choices threaten everything Dean's worked so hard to achieve, he's faced with a difficult decision. Rating: MA

6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long! I didn't die and this story will be finished, I promise. My life's just been a shit-fest, and ironically, even though writing helps, it's hard to find the time or motivation. Anyway I've been working like 60 hours a week and I'm exhausted and I'm sorry! Hopefully this chapter is good, please let me know! I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I think you guys have waited long enough. Plus I'm never 100% happy with my work anyway, so fuck it lol.

---

Aside from yanking up the collar of his shirt to wipe his mouth and chin, Cas didn't move for what seemed like forever. Eventually, the position he was in became painful, so he slowly rose to his feet. He instantly felt dizzy, and he grabbed onto the windowsill to keep his balance. Vaguely, he registered a sharp pain in his hand, but he ignored it. He'd later find a giant splinter buried in his palm.

He needed to get back to the cabin. He stumbled out of the barn and down the hill. Allen had taken the lantern with him, so he had no light, but there was at least a little moonlight. Eventually he made it to the building housing the showers. He kept the lights off to avoid anyone noticing he was in there and, starting the water, stripped out of his clothes. He only had one camp shirt and was expected to wear it tomorrow, so he washed it under the water as quickly as possible. He then threw it over the wall separating the next stall to dry and stepped under the water.

Although he was soaked in stale sweat and his skin was crawling, the hot water felt good. He shampooed his hair, wincing as his fingers grazed over the back of his head. He could already feel a bump forming from where Allen had bashed his head into the wall. He then took the bar of soap and scrubbed his face thoroughly, even getting it in his eyes and mouth. It stung and tasted horrible, but he didn't care. He needed to be clean. He reached for his toiletry case to retrieve his toothbrush before realizing if he tainted his toothbrush, he wouldn't use it for the rest of camp.

The rest of camp. He still had to fucking stay here. For another month. And he had to look that sick fuck in the face every day. He knew it was stupid, but he thrust three soapy fingers into his mouth, rubbing them along his teeth and his tongue. The taste made him gag, and he retched forward, vomiting dinner and the bit of Allen's release he'd swallowed into the shower drain. His eyes began burning again, and he wasn't sure if it was the soap, or if he was crying. He angled the water into the corner and leaned back against the wall, letting the warmth wash over him. Slowly, he sunk down along the wall until his tailbone hit the hard tiled floor. He lifted his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His eyes welled up with tears again, and he dropped his head down into his arms, beginning to sob.

How could his parents send him to this place? What was so wrong with being gay? He knew what the Bible said about it, but why? Why was it so bad that his own parents would subject him to fucking torture? If this was what God wanted, then God was a fucking asshole.

He'd never felt so alone in his life.

He sat there until the water ran cold. When he got back to the cabin, he hung his wet tee shirt over the railing outside and crawled into bed. A few minutes passed before his bunkmate must've heard him sniffling.

"Dude, you okay?" came the voice above him.

Cas opened his mouth, but only a hoarse squeak came out.

"What?"

Cas cleared his throat and tried again. "Fine," he managed. It was the first word he'd spoken, and he realized his throat was raw and painful.

"Where were you, dude?"

Across the room, Cas could hear their one cabin mate snoring, and the other one mumbling in his sleep. "The showers," Cas croaked.

"You're gonna get in trouble sneakin' around after lights out, man," Garth said quietly.

Cas closed his eyes. "I know."

"It's only another month, and then we can go home," Garth said quietly. Cas was silent, so Garth left it at that.

He should contact Garth, see how he was doing. He hadn't spoken to him since the last day of camp. He'd looked him up on Facebook while he was shitfaced on his twenty-first birthday, and he was engaged to some woman named Bess. That was six years ago, though. Who knew what Garth- or any of the others- were doing now.

At the time, Cas had wondered if anyone else he'd attended camp with had gotten with women afterwards. Did everyone? Was he the only one they couldn't fix?

He knew better now, though. He pushed himself up off of the couch and took Floyd outside. He laid down in the grass and smoked a cigarette, staring up at the sky. It was a perfect light blue, with small wisps of fluffy white clouds passing by, and Cas couldn't help but feel worse about feeling so shitty on such a nice day. He should be out hiking, or swimming, or doing something fun or productive in the nice weather. Not moping around feeling sorry for himself over something that happened more than a decade ago. He snuffed his cigarette out in the grass just as Floyd came to stand over him, tennis ball in his mouth. Cas sat up and took it from him, throwing it as hard as he could. It hit the ground prematurely and at an angle, bouncing to the other side of the yard, but Floyd didn't care, happily bounding after it.

Maybe playing with the dog was good enough.

He threw the ball for Floyd for a little while before heading back inside to spend some time with Roger. He laid back on the couch as Roger climbed all over it, and him. He finished the bottle, and Roger clung to his shirt as he rose to search the house for more.

"Dean's gotta have somethin'," he mumbled to Roger as he searched the cabinets. He went into the bedroom and kneeled down in front of Dean's night stand. Something in the back of his mind told him he shouldn't be snooping, but a louder part told him he wasn't looking through Dean's things- he was just looking for liquor. He pulled open the bottom drawer, and bingo! A bottle of Jack, with about a third left in it, rolled towards the front of the drawer. He grabbed it and was about to close the drawer when he spotted it- a photograph.

It was grainy, black and white, and it was clearly a still from Dean's security camera. It was the one in the living room, because it was a clear shot of the couch. Dean was leaned back into the cushions, feet up on the couch and eyes on the TV, and Cas was curled up in his lap, Dean's fingers threaded through his hair.

Cas' heart sank at the realization that Dean would drink and look at this picture. A small part of him told him that he should be creeped out, but he actually found it incredibly sweet. It was such a domestic moment, and when Dean thought he wouldn't see Cas again, it was the one that he'd chosen to print out to remember him by.

He brought the picture back out into the living room with him. As he stared at it, something twisted painfully in his chest. Dean had only known him for three months, and he only knew the person Cas pretended to be. Cool, calm, collected; fun and care-free. Cas hadn't shown him much else, and now it was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Dean was going to see that he was a fucked-up mess hiding behind a good façade, and even if he could look past that, asking him to tolerate his bat-shit crazy mother as well was just too much.

Dean was going to realize that it was all just too much. Maybe if Cas was better-looking, or had something to offer, like money, it could be worth sticking around. But he had nothing- in fact, he had less than nothing. He actually needed someone to support him, in absolutely everything he did. He was like a child. He had absolutely nothing to offer but himself, and he didn't think that was really worth much.

---

"Earth to Dean."

"Uh... what?"

"You've been staring at the air filters for like ten minutes. You might want to finish up before your customer gets pissed," Jo said.

"Right," Dean said absentmindedly. He tried to focus. What car was he working on again?

"Jesus," Jo huffed, rolling her eyes and pushing Dean to reach past him. She grabbed a box off of the shelf and thrust it into his hands. "What is with you today?"

Dean stared down at the box. "I've just got a lot on my mind," he mumbled.

"I can tell. Does this have anything to do with how deliriously happy you were yesterday and Saturday? And super emo before that? Oh, and before that, happy again." She paused. "Serious question, no judgement... are you bipolar?"

"No," Dean answered. "I've just got a lot going on." Cas hadn't answered any of his texts all day, and he was worried that between asking Cas to tell him about camp, and then pushing the therapy issue, he'd pushed Cas too far. He wasn't sure what exactly he was worried about... that Cas was going to leave? He didn't want to think about the possibility of Cas hurting himself, but he also couldn't rule it out completely. He wished he had a house phone to call.

"Well bury it deep down inside you, boy, least until closing time," came Bobby's gruff voice from behind them. No doubt that if Bobby knew the severity of the situation, he'd be singing a different tune. But Cas' problems weren't Dean's to share. "We got customer's waitin'."

"That reminds me," Dean said, whirling around to face him. He wasn't sure what reminded him, and now probably wasn't the best time, but he'd already started, so there was no use stopping now. "I need Monday off."

Bobby just stared at him. "Okay."

Dean stared back. "Okay?"

"Yes, okay!" Bobby barked. "Now get back to work." He turned around and walked back off towards his office. "Idjits," he muttered under his breath.

"Why was that idjits plural?" Jo called after him. "What did I do?"

"Tough break, kid," Dean said as Bobby disappeared into his office. "Guilty by association."

"Yeah, well, see how much longer I associate with you then. ...Idjit."

Dean shook his head, frowning slightly. "Yeah... just doesn't hold the same power when you say it."

Jo rolled her eyes and walked off, leaving Dean to his own task. He threw himself into his work for the rest of the day, and by closing time, he was ready to crawl out of his skin. Worst case scenarios were playing over and over again in his head, and he needed to get home and know that Cas was alright.

He practically burst in the front door, and Cas was lying face-down on the couch, his fingers limply wrapped around the neck of Dean's bottle of Jack. It hung on the floor, only a few sips left, and Cas' bottle of pain medication sat on the coffee table. Floyd was curled up behind his legs, head up and staring straight at Dean. Dean's stomach dropped and he raced across the living room and grabbed Cas' shoulder, shaking him violently.

"Cas!"

Cas lifted his head and opened his eyes immediately, although not all the way. "Huh- Wha?" Blinking slowly, he tried to focus on Dean. "Why're you shakin' me?"

"Oh, christ," Dean breathed. "Thank god."

"Fuck god," Cas gurgled.

"How many of these did you take?" Dean asked frantically.

"How many'a what?" Cas asked, looking around in confusion.

"Your pain pills!"

"Oh, I'unno," Cas answered, squinting at the bottle in Dean's hand. "I don't think I took any at all."

All of the tension left Dean's body quicker than he thought possible. "Thank fuck," he sighed, setting the bottle back down on the coffee table. He stared down at Cas, and Cas stared back, until finally he seemed to understand why Dean was so worried.

"Fuck, Dean," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. He rolled over so that he was facing the inside of the couch, and Floyd jumped down and walked away. "I'm not gonna kill mysel' just 'cause some guy fucked my face over a dec- a decade ago. Gimmie s'more credit than that."

Dean winced at the nonchalant way Cas referred to his childhood sexual abuse. Jesus christ, he really had detachment down to a science. He sat down behind the crook of Cas' knees and placed his hand on his arm. "Did something happen today?"

"No," Cas said petulantly. "Just fuckin' life. Same old, same old."

"So why are you completely shitfaced? Like, worse than yesterday?"

"'Cause it makes me feel better."

Dean tried again. "But what happened that you needed to feel better?"

Cas shrugged his shoulders, staring intently at the fabric on the back of the couch. "Jus'... everythin'. Last night, and this morning, and thinkin' about my mom showin' up at my job. Or my surgery. Or here. I didn't even charge my phone today 'cause I knew she'd be blowin' it up all day."

Dean was quiet for a moment. "...Do you want to get a restraining order?"

Cas closed his eyes. "For what? She'll just ignore it, 'n' then what? Have my mentally ill mother thrown in jail? She's not dangerous- at least not on purpose- jus' crazy. ...'N' what if the judge takes her side? This is Texas, what if-"

"Cas, even if he does, it doesn't matter. You're an adult, and he can't force you to have anything to do with your mom. And he can't force you to do any conversion therapy bullshit. This might be Texas, but it's still America. And... and even if all that weren't true, I wouldn't let anyone do that to you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again, me included. Do you understand?"

Cas didn't open his eyes, but he nodded.

"Do you feel any better?"

"I'm still worried about her comin' to PetSmart," he admitted.

"So quit," Dean said quickly. Cas' eyes shot open and he side-eyed Dean. "Do you even want to work there forever, anyway?"

"I can't... I can't quit," he mumbled, moving his gaze to the couch fabric again.

"Why not?"

"'Cause I need money," he said softly. Truth be told, though, it wasn't even much money anyway. Maybe he could stand on the street corner. He did have a pretty mouth, after all.

"No you don't, Cas," Dean said, interrupting his thoughts. Probably for the best- they were going nowhere good. "I can easily support two people. Quit. Take some time off to figure shit out." Throughout all of the conversations they'd had, Dean had never been able to figure out what Cas actually wanted to do with his life. Maybe Cas didn't know either.

"You say that, but later you're gonna resent me for bein' a fuckin' moocher," Cas muttered.

"I don't think you're a moocher," Dean insisted. "I just want you to be happy. Some time to clear your head might help, y'know? Only responsibility: feeling better."

Cas closed his eyes again. That was even worse. What if he still didn't feel better? He'd have to admit then that he was inexplicably broken, and no amount of care or therapy or time off of work was going to fix it. "If that's what you think is best," he said weakly.

"What do you think is best?"

"I have no idea."

"So think about it and decide."

"Okay." A minute or two passed, and he felt something brushing up against his butt. It was Dean, running his hands down the tail he'd bought Cas at the faire.

"How come you're wearing this?"

Cas shrugged. "Made me feel better."

"That's cute," Dean said automatically. "You're cute." Cas turned his head to bury it in the corner of the couch, trying to suppress a smile. He was supposed to be feeling shitty, dammit. "Why are you hiding?" Dean asked.

"'Cause I'm s'posed to be feelin' sorry for myself, 'n' you're ruinin' it."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dean said playfully, "Next time I think you're cute, I'll just keep it to myself." He slid two fingers up into the hem of Cas' hoodie, and Cas curled in on himself with a snort. "Would be a real shame if I made you smile, now wouldn't it?"

"Def'nitely," Cas snickered.

Dean shifted so that one knee was on the couch, leaning forward and climbing over Cas. He planted one arm on either side of Cas' cushion to hold himself up. Cas twisted more onto his back to look up at Dean, who caught his eye. "Just let me take care of you, Cas," he said softly. "It doesn't have to be forever. Please."

Wait, what? "...What d'you mean it doesn't-" Cas started, but Dean cut him off with a kiss.

"I just think that for now, you should take some time off," he said when he pulled away. "You can always get another job later. Or go to school or something." Cas opened his mouth but Dean kept talking. "And I know I'm asking you to put a lot of trust in me. Because if you want to leave, you'll have no money and nowhere to go. But..." I love you, he wanted to say. I'll do anything for you. And if you wanted to leave, I'd make it happen. But Cas was fucking drunk, and if Dean said it now, Cas might not even remember it. Dean sighed. "Dammit, you gotta ease back on the drinking."

Cas averted his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Dean said quickly. "It just makes it hard to have important conversations. And I'm also worried, obviously. About the frequency."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm out of booze, so tomorrow we'll be good," Cas said lightly, a soft smile on his lips. "Don't worry."

"I will always worry," Dean mumbled, before dipping down and capturing Cas' lips in his own. Immediately, Cas' hands were shoved up his shirt, roaming along his lower back. They made out lazily as Cas' hands moved lower, until he grabbed two handfuls of Dean's ass and pulled him down, simultaneously thrusting his own hips up.

Dean groaned into Cas' mouth before pulling away. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Cas answered, sliding his hands back around to take a hold of Dean's belt buckle.

Dean leaned down to kiss him again. "You know," he murmured, "I'm still all gross from work, right?"

"Don't care," Cas mumbled into his mouth. "Like when you're all grimy an' smell like motor oil."

Dean couldn't hold in his laugh. "Right. I forgot about your mechanic kink."

"Shut up," Cas said, finally getting Dean's pants open and shoving them down.

"'S okay. I've got some of my own kinks, too, y'kn-" He broke off into a groan as Cas wrapped his hand around his cock.

"Yeah? Like what?" Cas leaned up to press a kiss to his collarbone, and Dean lowered himself down so he could reach better.

"You'll just have to find out." Both of Cas' hands moved away, and Dean lifted himself up again, looking between them to see why. Cas was sliding his pajama bottoms down to his knees, and his cock sprang free and came to rest on his stomach. Dean lined himself up and took them both in his hand, tugging slowly, and Cas' eyes slipped closed, a small moan falling from his lips.

Dean leaned down, burying his face between Cas' face and his hoodie and pressing his lips to his neck. Cas turned his head to give Dean better access, and he dragged his mouth lower, nibbling on Cas' skin. A drunken giggle bubbled up out of Cas, and he thrust his hips up into Dean's fist.

"I missed this so much," Dean murmured against his skin. "I'm so sorry I-"

"Less talking," Cas said, his breath warm against Dean's ear. "More humping."

Dean laughed lightly but returned his focus to the task at hand. The side of his index finger was wet with precome, and he brought his thumb up to swipe the rest around, gently pressing into Cas' slit as he did so. Cas turned his head, so Dean lifted his, and Cas began kissing his neck. He worked his way down to his throat, where he latched on, sucking hard on Dean's skin.

A fresh bit of precome oozed out of Dean at that, and he began jerking them both a little harder. Cas sunk his teeth in, simultaneously digging his fingernails into Dean's shoulder blades, and Dean emitted a whimper he wasn't particularly proud of, coming all over their stomachs.

"Fuck," he breathed as Cas released his neck, "That was- that was really fast. I'm sorry."

"'S fine," Cas said, a soft smile on his face. Dean let go of them and pushed himself up, scooting back and settling back on his heels. He leaned forward, setting one hand on Cas' stomach and wrapping the other around his cock. He gave it a gentle tug, and a fresh bit of precome made it's way out of the tip, dribbling down the shaft and onto Dean's thumb. He licked his lips, ready to wrap them around the head, when he noticed his own mess still splattered across Cas' stomach. Continuing to stroke, he used his other hand to swipe through it. It was still warm. As he looked down at his fingers, he realized he'd never eaten his own before, but was it really that much different?

He lifted his eyes and Cas was staring at him intently, hungrily, and it almost seemed like he was holding his breath as he waited to see what Dean would do. Never one to disappoint, Dean pushed his fingers into his mouth, holding eye contact with Cas as he licked them clean.

Cas' eyes widened and his cock throbbed in Dean's hand. Dean quickly dove down, shoving it into his mouth, but not before the first of Cas' release hit him right in the face; a bit on his cheek, some on his lip. Cas tossed his head back against the armrest of the couch as Dean milked him through his orgasm, swallowing any that hadn't been wasted on his face.

When he finally lifted up, Cas was looking at him with what could only be described as awe. "That was..." He trailed off and licked his lips. "I wasn't expectin' you to do that. An' I wasn't expectin' to find it so hot. Fuck."

Dean smiled briefly before swiping his tongue across his upper lip to get what had landed there. Cas let out a little whine, his hips twitching halfheartedly, but he didn't have another round in him, and Dean knew it. He gave him a gentle smack on his sticky stomach. "Let's clean you up. Want burgers?"

"Yes," Cas sighed blissfully. "That sounds amazing."

---

Cas groaned and rolled over, willing his alarm to stop ringing. It didn't work, of course, so he had to roll back over and turn it off. Dean was gone already, but it was still early. He silenced his alarm and got out of bed, dragging his feet to the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth.

The night before, he'd plugged his phone back in and turned it on. Without reading the texts or listening to the voicemails from his mother, he'd blocked her number and set his alarm. Today was a new day. Today was the day Castiel Novak was going to get his shit together.

After he brushed his teeth, he took a moment to study his reflection in the mirror. If he was being honest, he barely recognized himself. Two days of binge-drinking (okay, maybe more like three months with some breaks in-between) had left him looking pale and tired; more tired than usual. The cut on his cheek was healing, and the stitches had been removed the morning he'd picked up his car, but it was still pink and shiny, raised and hard. It would be a while before it was fully healed. His nose looked like something out of a Picasso painting, and five o'clock shadow littered his chin and neck. Beneath that, he could see his jawline had lost definition from the weight he'd put on. He needed a haircut, too; his mom had told him he was looking like a hippie.

No. He wasn't going to think about any of the shit his mom had said about him. He needed a haircut, yes, but it was because he wanted one. It was getting too long for his liking. Fuck what Naomi had to say about it. She didn't matter.

As he stared into the mirror, he remembered all of that positive affirmation crap he'd talked about with Dean. Apparently Dean's father had done a brief stint in AA, and an exercise they'd instructed had been to look in the mirror and say positive things. Apparently after a while, it re-wired the brain into actually believing it. John had joked about how stupid it was, and while Dean had thought it was kind of dumb, too, he admitted he'd tried it. Cas figured it couldn't hurt to try either. He found himself struggling with something positive to say, though, and instead narrowed his eyes at his reflection. Maybe tough-love would be better. "Look at you. You need to get it together. It's fucking pathetic. You've been through ten tons of shit and you're still here. ...Mostly because you're too chicken-shit to kill yourself. ...But that doesn't matter now. Today, you're going to get your shit together. You're going to stop feeling sorry for yourself and fucking get it together. You are Cas fucking Novak, and you can do this. ...And if you blow it, if you blow this chance with Dean, I will never forgive you."

Okay, definitely not very positive, but good enough.

He showered, shaved, and got dressed, then gathered all of his dirty clothes from the past few days off of the floor and brought them down into the basement. The settings on the machine seemed simple enough, so he tossed everything in and started the cycle. When he went back upstairs, he made the bed and emptied the little garbage bin into the one in the kitchen. If he wasn't going to work, the least he could do was keep the house clean.

He wanted to tell himself that he needed time to think about whether he was going to quit or not, but the truth was that as soon as Dean had suggested it, he'd felt nothing but relief. Working had been a good distraction and got him out of the house, and he obviously needed income, but now that he was at Dean's, he'd been dreading going back. Working at PetSmart was okay, sure, but it was a dead-end job that paid barely more than minimum wage. He'd been there for nearly five years now, and he'd never been offered any kind of promotion. They couldn't even guarantee him full-time, because then they'd have to offer him health benefits, and all of those were things he had to start thinking about now.

Dean was an adult- he worked a full-time job, he payed his mortgage, he went to his doctors appointments. Hell, he probably even had a savings account. Cas was just pretending to be an adult. He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to try, and Dean said he'd help him. So he could help Dean, too, by at least taking care of things at the house.

He put on some music and cleared some cups off of the coffee table from the night before. He brought them into the kitchen and washed them, along with the dishes Dean had left from breakfast. When he was done, he went back down into the basement and threw his clothes into the dryer. He looked around for a minute until he found cleaning supplies, which he brought upstairs with him. He vacuumed the living room and the guest room, which still held all of the boxes of his stuff, and swept and mopped the kitchen and living room.

As the floor dried, he brought everything back down into the basement. His clothes were dry, so he carried them back upstairs and began folding them on the bed. He briefly thought that he should wash Dean's clothes as well, but he didn't want to risk shrinking or otherwise ruining them and making Dean mad. So he put his own clothes away and left Dean's in the hamper. Back in the kitchen, he wiped down the table and the counters, then opened all of the windows, before collapsing onto the couch.

He was actually sweating a little. Ugh, gross. Two hours of housework and he was sweating.

He laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling and debating what he was going to say when he called work. He felt bad quitting without two weeks notice, but he was only due back for a few days anyway, and then he had to take off again for his surgery. He was pretty sure they'd gotten used to a new schedule without him by now.

He scrolled through Facebook for a while to distract himself, but eventually he knew he had to man up and call. He dialed PetSmart, and his co-worker Marv answered.

"Thank you for calling PetSmart, where pets are family. How can I help you?"

"Jeez, Marv, could you sound any less enthusiastic?"

"...Cas?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Nothing much. How are you?"

"I'm feeling okay, thanks. Can you put Pam on?"

"Uh... I think she's on lunch. Wait, no, she just walked in. Hold on." Marv put him on hold, and about a minute passed before Pam came to the phone.

"Cas! How are you feelin', hun?"

"Better, thanks. How have you been?"

"Oh, just dandy," she chirped, and she only sounded a little sarcastic.

Cas laughed a little, but even he could tell it sounded stilted. "That's good. So, um... I'm calling because... well-"

"You're not coming back, are you?"

That totally caught Cas off guard. "I- I'm sorry. How did you know?"

She laughed. "I don't know. I could just tell. Can I ask why?"

Cas hesitated, unsure of how to answer that. "Just... personal stuff."

"I see." She paused. "You're better than this place anyway, Cas. Although I loved having you as an employee, you could be doing way more important things than wasting your time here."

Cas was kind of shocked to hear his general manager say such things about her place of employment. "Uh... thank you?"

"Anytime. I honestly wish I could've promoted you, but none of the others in management ever plan on leaving." She sighed. "You know how it is."

"I understand."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"You weren't drinking, were you?"

"Uh, what? When?"

"When you had your accident."

"Oh, no, no," Cas said quickly. He wondered if he should mention he'd been smoking, but he really didn't feel that it was the same thing. He drove high daily and he'd never been in an accident before. People went out drinking and driving once and killed people. It just wasn't the same thing. "I was actually driving because my friends were drinking. So I was sent to the store. I hit a deer, by the way. Kevin didn't tell you?"

"He did. He didn't say you were drinking, but he also didn't say you weren't. ...I was just asking." She sounded like she was finished, but before Cas could say anything, she continued. "Anyway, I'm glad you're alright. Don't be a stranger now."

Cas smiled into the phone. "Of course not. I still have to get supplies for Roger, anyway."

"Roger? ...Isn't that the one you adopted from us like two and a half years ago? He's still alive?"

Cas glanced over at Roger's cage, where he was sound asleep in his hammock. "Yeah."

"Wow."

"I know."

"Alright, well I've got to run, there's a customer up front pitching a fit about grooming. Dog's been shaved bald, but the customer's swearing he wasn't matted, the usual." Cas could practically hear her eye-roll over the phone. "I guarantee if I go back into the salon, they're going to show me the rug they shaved off."

Cas laughed a little. "Okay. I'll see you around."

"Take care of yourself, Cas."

"I will." The line went dead and Cas was left staring at Roger's cage. He must've dozed off shortly after, because he woke up to the click of Floyd's nails on the floor as he excitedly danced around Dean.

"I need to take you to get your nails done," Dean said from the front door. Cas popped his head up and twisted around, and Dean looked up and smiled at him.

"Hey. It smells really good in here, what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why does it smell so good?" He straightened up, letting his hand fall away from patting Floyd's head, and glanced around. "Did you clean?"

"Yeah," Cas answered.

Dean looked back at him again. "Wow, thank you." He made his way towards the couch. "You didn't have to do that."

Cas shrugged. "Least I could do." He watched as Dean took a seat next to him on the couch. "I quit my job," he said quickly.

Dean didn't look the least bit surprised. He just smiled warmly and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Cas' mouth. "Good."

Cas smiled against his lips. "Why's that so good?" he asked as Dean pulled away.

"Because, now you can hang out with me all the time." Dean pulled back to look Cas in the eye, his own wide and bright. "Or spend some time on one of your hobbies or whatever. Or do something you couldn't do at your moms. And we can go hiking. Or camping on the weekends. Or a vacation. Or-"

"Okay, okay," Cas chuckled. "I get it. Hiking sounds fun. But maybe not, like, extreme hiking yet. Just... some easy trails." Dean nodded. "But, you wanted to go to the grocery store right?"

"Right. Yeah. ...You're ready now?"

"Yes. Tomorrow is already Thursday."

"That doesn't matter," Dean said, looking at him carefully. "You need to be ready."

"Well, I think I am."

"Okay." He glanced around. "Do you want to smoke while I make a list?"

Cas nodded, picking his pack of cigarettes up off the coffee table and pulling out a pre-rolled joint. "After this I only have enough to roll one more," he announced, holding it up.

"Do you want money for more?"

Cas slightly shook his head. "I have money. I got paid on Friday. Unfortunately it's my last check, though."

"Well..." Dean trailed off and shrugged. "Save it for whatever. You've smoked me up a lot anyway, so I'll get this one."

"...Are you sure? I usually buy it by the ounce. And it's two-hundred thirty dollars."

Dean pulled a face that clearly read So? "Okay."

Cas wasn't going to argue. He would run out of money soon, anyway, so unless they quit smoking, Dean was soon going to be paying exclusively. "Okay. Thank you." Dean nodded and went into the kitchen to make a grocery list as Cas lit the joint.

xxx

Walking through the grocery store was torture. Cas hadn't considered the ramifications of getting high on an empty stomach and then spending an hour walking down endless aisles of food. He watched and listened as Dean tossed things into the cart, occasionally saying something about the item, but he found himself focusing on all of the delicious-looking things that they were walking right past. How did Dean avoid temptation like this every single day?

"Alright, dude, hear me out," Dean said as they came to a stop. "Sounds fucking disgusting, but it's actually pretty good." He pulled a small, square package off of the shelf and held it out in front of Cas.

"Seaweed?" Cas read, squinting at the package. "People eat seaweed?"

"Yeah, man, people will eat anything." Dean tossed it in the cart. "If you don't want it, I'll eat it."

"I'll try it," Cas promised.

"Dean?"

As Dean turned around, Cas leaned to the left to see around him. A pretty brunette in her early thirties stood in front of Dean, holding the hand of a toddler.

"Lisa?" Dean said, and he was clearly shocked. "Wow. Hey. ...It's been forever."

"I know," she said, smiling brightly. "I would think I'd see you around more, especially if you shop here. I come here every week."

"I, uh, usually come on Saturdays. So... how are you?"

"I'm good," she answered. "What about you?"

"I- I'm alright."

"You look good."

"Uh... thank you." Cas felt pretty invisible behind Dean, but that was fine by him. He stayed silent, watching the interaction like a hawk. "So, uh, who's this?" Dean asked, looking down at the child.

"This is Ben," Lisa said, holding his hand up a bit. "Say hi, Ben." The child held up his free hand and waved, but he didn't speak. Dean gave a small wave in return. "And who's this?" Lisa asked, nodding her head at Cas.

"Oh," Dean whirled around. "Shit, sorry," he said, directed to Cas. "Cas. Cas, this is Lisa."

Cas gave her a small smile. A snarky I've heard so much about you was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He didn't want to embarrass Dean by making it look like he constantly talked about his ex. "Hello."

"What happened to your face?"

"Car accident," Dean supplied.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Are you okay?"

"I am, thank you. Although my face is my most important asset, so... this," Cas gestured towards his face, "is unfortunate."

Lisa laughed, clearly recognizing his attempt at humor for what it was, but Dean furrowed his brow. "Your face is definitely not your most important asset," he said.

Cas forced out a laugh. "Wow, thanks."

"That- shit, that's not what I meant," Dean hurried to explain. Cas smiled in understanding. He knew it was intended to be a compliment, he'd just wanted to mess with Dean.

"You always knew just the right thing to say, Dean," Lisa commented with a smirk.

Dean frowned, turning his head to look at her again. "...Right."

"So... what about you? Any kids yet?"

Dean looked away. "...No."

"Oh. How long have you two been together?"

"Six months," they answered together, and then shared a quick glance. Okay, so at least they were on the same page with that.

"Told ya you'd end up with a guy," Lisa teased.

Dean scowled. "Uh, no, you insisted I'd cheat on you with a guy." Lisa looked away and Dean looked down at Ben. "How old are you, Ben?"

The little boy, who'd been obliviously staring at the products on the shelf, turned to Dean. "Four an' a half!" he answered.

Dean looked back at Lisa. "Is there a reason you came over here?"

Lisa regarded him carefully. "...Just to say hello."

Dean crossed his arms. "You're absolutely positive."

"Yes. I know how it looks, but..." She lowered her voice. "I'm married. We met like a month before I broke things off with you."

Dean uncrossed his arms. "So... you cheated on me." How fucking ironic.

"No. We didn't do anything until you and I were done." That wasn't much of a comfort. Dean imagined her emotionally cheating for weeks, only finally taking the step to break it off with him (via text message, no less) because she couldn't wait any longer to get into bed with guy number two.

Dean scoffed, turning away. "Whatever. It was good to see you," he said dismissively.

"Yeah... you too," she said quietly. As they turned to leave, Dean looked back, and Ben was dragging behind her, waving at him. Dean forced a smile and waved back before they disappeared around the corner.

He turned back to Cas, shoulders sagging. "Come on."

Cas again quietly followed, but now he watched Dean closely. He walked mechanically, grabbing items and putting them in the cart like he'd done it thousands of times before. Cas figured he had; Dean was clearly a creature of habit. Cas could tell what he usually got for himself and what he was getting for Cas, because Dean would stop and check the nutrition labels on something new- occasionally asking Cas if he would like it- before deciding whether to get it or not. Cas appreciated the attempt to cater to his tastes.

"What are you looking for on there?" Cas asked after about ten minutes of silence.

"A few things," Dean answered. "Calories, fat content, carbs, fiber. I'll explain more later."

Cas just nodded. Dean clearly didn't feel like talking anymore, and he found himself irritated at Lisa for ruining Dean's mood, especially after Cas had already wasted their last two days together in his own funk.

When they got back to the house, Cas helped Dean put the groceries away. In addition to being the helpful thing to do, it helped him learn where Dean kept everything, which was important if he was going to be living there. As they put the last few boxes in the pantry, Cas asked if Dean would like him to make dinner.

"I can make spaghetti or something."

Dean took a moment to think about it, and then he smiled at Cas. "Sure. Thank you. I'm gonna take a shower."

---

Of all the times to run into Lisa, it had to be tonight. Dean scrubbed at his hair vigorously under the water, thinking back to what she'd said. "Told ya you'd end up with a guy." He gritted his teeth. See if I ever go to the grocery store on a fucking Wednesday again. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Who the hell did she think she was? Like she could predict the fucking future? If he'd met Cas while he was with Lisa, they would've just been friends. Although, he couldn't really imagine ever only being friends with Cas, and as he thought on it longer, he slowly began to realize that maybe she was right.

He'd never really been able to imagine himself with women in any kind of lasting sense. He'd tried with Lisa, and even despite their differences of opinion, they got along, but underneath that it had still felt forced. He'd had no desire to move in with her, no desire to really move past what they'd been doing, and maybe Lisa had sensed that. It still didn't excuse what she did back then, or what she said at the store, either, but he stepped out of the shower a little less angry. They were both happy now, so whatever.

He may have been attracted to either sex, but he was pretty sure he was meant to be with a guy. Unless of course Cas decided he wanted a sex change or something. He didn't give a shit what Cas had in his pants, as long as it was attached to Cas. He finished drying off and headed into the bedroom, where he hung his towel on the back of the door. He pulled open the top drawer to his dresser for a fresh pair of boxers, pausing as his eye caught the pink fabric shoved into the corner.

He pushed his boxers out of the way and pulled the pair of panties forward. He looked down at it as he ran his thumb along the stitching. He remembered the night before, when he'd told Cas, You'll just have to find out. He could put them on underneath his pajama pants, and unless they got to fooling around, Cas would be none the wiser. His stomach fluttered at the uncertainty of it. Cas could discover his kink tonight, and either find it just as hot as Dean did, or weird as hell. Alternatively, if he managed to keep them hidden, he could slip them off with his pajama pants before bed, and his secret would live to be discovered another day. Either way, it was kind of thrilling.

He quickly yanked them on and followed them with his PJ bottoms before gently sliding the drawer closed. He pulled a tee shirt over his head and went back out into the living room. Cas was at the counter, pouring sauce onto two bowls of pasta. Dean smiled to himself. He would've put only half as much pasta on plates, with a side salad and some bread, but Cas would learn. He couldn't wait to see the first real meal Cas made by himself, and show him that eating better didn't have to be boring or even hard, once you got used to it.

He slid into place behind him, snaking his arms around his waist, and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Looks good."

Cas melted back into him, and Dean took the opportunity to take a deep huff of Cas' scent. He smelled just like he always did, with just the slightest hint of sweat. "You smell good," he murmured, pressing his lips to Cas' neck.

Cas smiled. "Alright, down boy. No humping."

Dean emitted a small whine and pushed his right knee between Cas' thighs. He thrust up twice against Cas' left leg, and Cas giggled, trying to wriggle out of his grip. Dean let him go immediately when his dick throbbed against the tight confines of his underwear, taking a step back. "Shit," he muttered.

Cas pulled open one of the kitchen drawers and grabbed two forks. "What?" he asked, picking one bowl up and holding it out to Dean.

"Nothing. Thank you." He took the bowl and hurried off towards the couch. He set it down on the coffee table and dropped down onto the cushion, trying to adjust himself before Cas came around. Touching it just made it worse, but he angled it up and tucked it into the waistband of the panties.

"Why are you trying so desperately to hide your boner?" Cas asked nonchalantly, coming around the other end of the couch with his own bowl of spaghetti.

Dean blinked, unaware of how obvious he'd been. "I'm... not," he protested weakly, but Cas clearly wasn't convinced.

"Oookay," he said, leaning back into the cushion and stabbing at the spaghetti. "Sure."

"Because we're having dinner," Dean blurted out after a beat of silence. "It's not... dinner-appropriate."

"All boners are appropriate," Cas said. He blew on his forkful of pasta. "Especially when I give them to you."

Dean swallowed. "Okay." Cas didn't say anything else, instead leaning forward and hitting the power button on the remote. He began flipping through the channels, so Dean started on his food.

After they finished, they continued watching a bit of television as Cas laid in Dean's lap. Dean threaded his fingers through his hair, and Cas was reminded of the photograph he'd found in Dean's drawer. Speaking of that, he hadn't seen the photograph on the table since the day before. He didn't remember putting it back, so Dean had to have known he'd found it...

"If you plan on starting tomorrow, we should download that app," Dean said suddenly, interrupting Cas' train of thought. Cas nodded against his leg. He reached out and grabbed his phone from the coffee table and tapped the screen a few times. Once he got to the app store, he handed it over to Dean and laid his head back down.

"Okay, so I need to enter in some information. How tall are you?"

"Five eleven."

Dean tapped the screen again. "Current weight?"

Cas stared at the TV. "I don't know, actually. In May I had my yearly physical and I was two-fifteen, but..."

Dean straightened up. "Come with me."

Cas sat up to give Dean room to stand, then stood as well and followed him into the bathroom, his heart kicking up in his chest when he spotted the scale on the floor.

"I don't really want to know," he mumbled.

"C'mon, Cas, you're gonna wanna know how much you lost."

Cas sighed. "You're right." He took a step closer, stopping and looking up at Dean. "That's very optimistic, by the way."

"It won't work if you aren't."

Cas stepped onto the scale and gave it a moment to register. When he looked down at the numbers, he couldn't help feeling disappointed. "Two thirty-seven," he said softly.

Dean didn't even bat an eye, looking down at Cas' phone and typing it in. "Goal weight?" Cas didn't answer, still staring down at the scale. "Cas?"

"I don't know," he said finally, still not looking up. "I've been overweight since I was fifteen."

Dean was quiet for a minute or two. "Okay, google says normal weight for your height is 136 to 178."

Cas looked horrified. "Are you saying I'm a hundred fucking pounds overweight?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "This chart doesn't take gender into account, or muscle mass, and everyone's built different anyway." He paused. "And I thought it was about getting healthy, not losing weight, anyway? Look, I'll put two hundred as your goal and we'll see what happens, okay?"

Cas nodded, looking back down at the scale. "Okay."

"Okay, says if you keep it at fifteen-hundred calories per day you'll lose two pounds a week."

"That's it? That'll take forever," Cas groaned.

"That's just a goal. It'll probably come off faster, at least at first, but too fast and you'll fuck up your metabolism," Dean pointed out.

"I guess." He stepped backwards off the scale and caught his reflection in the mirror that Dean had on the back of the bathroom door. At least he wasn't flopping over the waistband of his pants yet. His recent growth had been more out than anything, and his stomach was still firm, not enough to succumb to gravity quite yet. He worried that he may still be left with a little extra skin there when it was all said and done. He was at least going to be left with the faint new stretch marks he had acquired along the underside.

"Hey," Dean said.

"Sorry," Cas said, blinking rapidly. "I zoned out."

"I can tell." He paused, inspecting Cas' face. "Look... don't be so worried. Just eat what I tell you for now, and let it happen." Cas nodded, and they left the bathroom to get comfortable again on the couch. Cas leaned heavily into Dean's side, and Dean wrapped his arm around Cas' shoulders, his fingertips dangling and brushing over his stomach.

"Thanks for moving in with me, Cas," he said quietly.

Cas snorted softly. "Thank you for letting me."

"I like having you here." Cas twisted his neck to look up and Dean leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. When he pulled back a bit, Cas leaned up further and kissed him again, swiping his tongue across his lower lip. Dean pressed his palm to Cas' stomach and slid it down, wriggling his fingers under the waistband of his pajama pants. He palmed Cas' cock through his underwear, feeling it growing hard beneath his hand.

He slipped his hand into Cas' boxer briefs, wrapping his fingers around the warm flesh and tugging gently. A small whine escaped Cas into Dean's mouth before he broke the kiss and tipped his head back. Dean ducked his head down to kiss and suck on his neck as he continued to play with his cock.

Suddenly he let go and removed his hand, and Cas opened his eyes, whining a little in protest.

"Lean back," Dean suggested, his voice low.

Cas sat up and scooted to the other end of the couch, leaning back against the armrest. Dean leaned forward and dug his fingers into the waistband of his pants and underwear, yanking them down until they settled at his knees. He placed his hands on Cas' thighs, pressing his thumbs into the flesh and admiring Cas' hard length, standing at full attention and resting against his stomach.

"Fuck..." he breathed. "You're fucking gorgeous."

Above him, Cas sucked in a breath, and Dean's eyes flicked up to see Cas' face turning slightly pink. "Do you- uh... really?" he mumbled.

Dean met his eyes. "Of course, Cas... or I wouldn't say it," he said sincerely. Cas averted his eyes, and Dean let out a little sigh. "Cas, look. I know how you feel, I do. Trust me. But there's nothing wrong with you."

Cas looked down at himself, placing both hands on his stomach and pressing his fingertips into the soft flesh. "It's not that I necessarily think there's anything wrong with it, or that I myself even dislike it..." he admitted. "I just have a hard time believing that others find it attractive. Considering what everybody says about the matter."

"Fuck what people say," Dean said quickly. He sighed again, a small exhale through his nose, and chewed on his lower lip. "I think you're hot, Cas," he said quickly, before he lost his nerve. "Okay? I thought you were before and I think you are now, and you will be no matter what you look like in the future. So..." He lowered his eyes, watching his own hand as he slowly ran it up Cas' thigh, feeling Cas' skin jump slightly beneath his fingers. "Let's just focus on your inside, and whatever happens on the outside, happens, okay?"

Cas nodded. "Okay," he said softly.

Dean leaned forward to press their lips together, kissing him softly before pulling away. He glanced down, and Cas was starting to go soft, so he lowered himself down onto Cas' legs and rested his face on the inside of his thigh. He took him in his hand and gave a slow tug towards his face, dragging the tip along his bottom lip and getting a good whiff of Cas' scent. Cas closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, tossing one arm over the back of the couch. He quickly began to harden again, and Dean took him into his mouth all at once.

Cas let out a gasp, tightly gripping the couch with the hand of the arm thrown over the back. Dean lifted back up, swiping his tongue back and forth across the shaft along the way, before dipping it into the slit.

Cas made an aborted noise that was probably supposed to be a swear, his eyes fluttering closed as he let his head drop back. "Shit," he managed finally, swinging his head back up again to peer down at Dean through hooded lids.

Dean groaned onto his cock as his own hardened, pressing up against the tight fabric of the panties. Cas straightened his leg out, and his shin rubbed right up along Dean's crotch. Instinctively, Dean thrust his hips and ground down against it.

A low chuckle bubbled up out of Cas and a hand came to rest on Dean's head, fingers tangling in and carding through his hair. "Good boy."

Dean actually whimpered a bit, and this time it wasn't meant to be funny. Cas' comment was clearly a throwback to the conversation earlier at the kitchen counter, but he melted inside at Cas' praise, and holy shit did he want more of it. He pulled off his cock and dove lower, continuing to jerk him off as his nose brushed up against Cas' perineum. Cas kicked one leg out to hang off the couch, spreading them for Dean. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to unsuccessfully stifle a groan as Dean licked a stripe right across his hole.

Dean placed his free hand on Cas' thigh, digging his finger into the meat as he pressed his tongue into Cas, who squirmed and moaned. As Cas got closer, Dean pulled back and thrust one finger past the rim. Cas moaned again, long and low, and Dean quickly found his prostate. He took the head of Cas' cock back into his mouth and pressed against it, hard.

Cas' gasped and bucked his hips up, forcing himself further into Dean's mouth. Dean swallowed around him and he came straight down Dean's throat. Dean removed his fingers, but he continued to pump Cas' dick, swallowing everything he had. Cas was babbling something; Dean only caught so good and fuck and amazing. He quickly pushed himself up and climbed onto Cas so that he was directly on top of him, diving down to hungrily attack Cas' mouth.

Cas eagerly kissed him back, mouth open and tasting himself on Dean's tongue. He brought his hands up and tucked his fingers into the waistband of Dean's pajamas, and Dean broke the kiss and pulled away. "No, this was just about you tonight."

Cas gave him the most adorable, post-orgasm confusion face ever. "Why?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno."

Cas raised one eyebrow. "So you're telling me that you don't want me to suck your dick."

"I... no?"

Cas gave him an odd look. "So then what's the problem?"

"I... I dunno." Dean shrugged his shoulders. "I just wanted to make you feel good. You don't always have to reciprocate."

Cas looked like he'd had his mind blown. "...Okay. ...I kind of thought there was this unspoken rule that both parties should get off."

"Probably. But it's not a big deal to me."

"Okay." He shifted a bit and pulled his pants back up, and Dean lowered himself down to lie his head on his stomach.

"You're comfortable," he murmured after a while.

"Thank you," Cas said, running his fingers through Dean's hair.

Dean had always loved having his head scratched. He couldn't stop thinking about that Good boy Cas had given him. He'd always found dom/sub relationships incredibly hot, but he'd never trusted anyone enough to try it with. He definitely trusted Cas though, no doubt about it. His eyes drifted closed and all he could picture was Cas ramming himself into him from behind, yanking his head back by his hair and telling him he was good.

His flagging erection was quickly hardening again. Fuck. Obviously rough kinky shit wasn't going to happen right away, but he had to start somewhere, right?

Dean cleared his throat. "Continuing with the theme of making you feel good..." He swallowed down his nerves and forced himself to just spit it out. "If you wanna fuck, I'm down to bottom."

Cas didn't respond right away, and Dean felt worry bubbling in his stomach, but he still didn't lift his head to look at Cas' face. Instead, he continued to stare at the TV, head resting on Cas' midsection. Cas' stomach rose as he drew in a deep breath, lifting Dean's head with it, and falling again as he released it. "I don't want you to do that simply because it would make me feel good."

"Well, I'm pretty sure it feels good on the receiving end, too," Dean mumbled.

"You're pretty sure?"

Dean rolled his eyes back to see Cas' face, and he was looking down at him with a smirk. "I'm sure," he grumbled, returning his eyes to the TV, although he wasn't really watching it. "I'm no stranger to toys, man, I've just... never bottomed with a person."

"So is it about you wanting to try it, or you wanting to please me?"

Dean bit his lip. "Both."

Cas chuckled. "I like that answer." He took in a small breath. "Well, I am also down, so... say the word and I'll stick it in your butt."

Dean snorted a laugh. "Wow, you suck at pillow talk." He pushed himself up on his hands to look at Cas.

Cas blinked, a small frown creasing his features. "You thought I was serious? Perhaps it's my sarcasm that needs work."

Dean just smiled and shook his head before leaning in for a quick kiss. When he pulled away, he extracted his legs from Cas' and planted them on the floor. Turning to face the couch, he slid one arm behind Cas' knees and one behind his neck, rolling him towards his chest and lifting him up.

"Dean," Cas said quickly, reaching up to latch one arm onto Dean's shoulder. "I- I don't think this is a good idea. Dean- I'm serious. I'm too heavy."

Dean let out a breathy chuckle, turning away from the couch. "Come on, Cas, I used to carry an extra, like, two of you around twenty-four seven."

"Okay," Cas said warily, looking down at the floor, "Just... please don't drop me."

"I won't," Dean assured him, taking a few tentative steps away from the couch. Cas clung onto him and didn't squirm, so he continued across the living room and into the hallway.

"With this kind of treatment, I feel like I should be bottoming," Cas joked, laughing into his chest.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't be like that." He stepped into the bedroom and deposited Cas onto the bed.

Cas bounced on the mattress, smiling up at Dean. "Thanks for the ride. I have to pee though."

Dean rolled his eyes again, pretending to be impatient, but he was actually grateful for the extra time. Now that they were in the bedroom, the nervousness he'd been pushing down was getting harder to ignore. Cas climbed off of the bed and walked out of the room, and he suddenly remembered: the panties. With what was on the table now, he really didn't want to risk turning Cas off right beforehand. The panty kink could be introduced another day. He hooked his thumbs into both waistbands and pulled both pieces of clothing down in one swift movement. Stepping out of them, he balled them up to conceal the panties inside and dropped the wad of fabric onto the carpet. His tee shirt joined them.

After lowering himself down onto the mattress, he swung his legs over and settled back against the pillows. Looking down at himself, he figured it wasn't half bad. Back in the day, he wouldn't even have been able to see his thighs from this angle and position. Now, he could see everything. He could see the little trail of hair running from his navel to his pubes, interrupted only barely by the faint scar running across his pelvis. He could see the slight v-shape of his hips, and yes, he could see the tops of his thighs in all their glory. They were a little thick, and he bent one leg at the knee, relieved to see that they didn't look any different when they weren't resting on the bed. All of that extra skin really was completely gone- it was just muscle.

He caught sight of his flaccid dick and thought Shit. Soft dicks aren't sexy. He quickly took it in his hand, gently squeezing the shaft and rubbing his thumb along the head. He had no idea what it would feel like to have an actual live dick inside of him, let alone Cas', but he conjured up the memory of finally sinking himself into Cas for the first time a few days prior, and he felt himself stiffening in his palm. He hoped it would feel just as good for Cas as it did for him.

He was at half-mast when Cas came back in the doorway. His gaze immediately zeroed in on the hand Dean was working his dick with, and his tongue came out to wet his lips. He walked across the room and to the foot of the bed, where he shoved his pants down and stepped out of them. He was already growing hard, and his eyes never left Dean as he stripped his shirt off and tossed it to the floor.

But then he just stood there, watching Dean stroke himself. His hands hung at his sides, twitching slightly as if he was fighting not to come over and touch. Suddenly, Dean was reminded of something he'd said on Friday- blurted out, really- that he wanted to correct. Something embarrassing and kind of untrue; something his father had made rude assumptions about when he'd burst into his room that night so long ago.

"Can I say something really quick?"

Cas quickly flicked his eyes away. "I'm sorry, was I making you uncomfortable?"

"No," Dean said, still tugging. "Not at all. But... do you remember on Friday? When I made that dumb joke about finally being able to, uh, jerk off again?"

Cas' eyebrows scrunched together as he walked over to the bed and took a seat on the end.

Dean averted his eyes. "I just wanted to clarify that it wasn't that I actually ever couldn't. I just... didn't really want to." His hand came to a stop at the base of his rapidly flagging dick. "I mean... what's the point when you're positive no one will ever want to touch you?"

Cas took a moment to think about what to say, and Dean really liked that about him. He thought about what he was going to say before he said it, and that was something that Dean could probably work on. "Have you been thinking about that all week?" Cas finally asked.

"Sort of," Dean admitted. "I kind of... took pride in the fact that I could still do everything by myself, y'know? So as soon as that came out of my mouth sounding that way I regretted it." He scoffed a short laugh. "It seems like I'm pretty good at embarrassing myself." Like at work... back in school... at the grocery store in front of Lisa. His eyes traveled down to his hand, which was cupping his now completely limp dick. "Like right now."

"Dean, you haven't embarrassed yourself," Cas said gently. "I don't expect you to stay hard while talking about something that's emotionally distressing." Dean heard him swallow loudly. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I do," Dean insisted. "Christ, Cas, I'm fucking thirty-four and I've been with more guys than girls, it needs to happen. Is it really such a big deal?"

"No. It's just... different." He twisted around and climbed up onto the bed, reaching up and cupping his hand against Dean's cheek. He turned his head towards him to meet his eyes. "You trust me, right?"

Dean kept his gaze locked and nodded.

Cas smiled. "Good. So relax and everything will be amazing. Okay?" Dean nodded again, and Cas pushed himself onto all fours, lifting his left leg to straddle Dean's thighs. He leaned over and pulled open Dean's night stand drawer, removing a condom from the box and retrieving the bottle of lubricant. He set them both down on the night stand and closed the drawer, then sat back and reached out, splaying his fingers across Dean's chest. Bending his fingers, he ghosted his nails across Dean's skin. Dean closed his eyes and shuddered, and Cas bent forward, capturing his lips in his own. Dean's mouth opened immediately for him as Cas dragged a thumb over Dean's nipple. Dean moaned into his mouth, so Cas pinched it, kind of hard, and Dean arched up off the mattress.

Cas shimmied up until he was sitting on Dean's hips, his hard, hot cock slotted right up against Dean's, which was quickly playing catch-up. Cas gave an experimental thrust of his hips, tearing his face away from Dean's to groan into his shoulder.

Dean's hands found Cas' backside, palming across his waist and lower back, feeling the curve of his spine. Even through his callouses, he could feel how soft Cas' skin was. And so warm... Cas pulled away from him, and Dean had to fight himself not to reach out and pull him back down.

Cas moved back onto his knees, lifting one and pushing one of Dean's legs out. He lowered his own again so that he was kneeling between Dean's legs. He leaned down and took Dean's cock in hand, pumping in a slow rhythm as he dragged his mouth along the inside of Dean's thigh, leaving open-mouthed kissed along his skin. Dean's skin was warm, and he smelled like soap and Dean. He honestly couldn't wait to get his mouth on him, and he nudged his face closer, using his left hand to gently guide Dean's legs open wider. Dean resisted at first, but then he swung his leg out as far as it would go, giving Cas a perfect view.

Dean could feel Cas' warm breath between his legs, ghosting over his perineum and his ass, and he tried to focus on the feeling of Cas' hand wrapped around his dick. What if Cas didn't like it? Before he could spend any more time doubting, Cas licked a wide stripe directly over Dean's entrance. Dean sucked in a breath so fast he nearly choked on it, and Cas continued working his tongue against his rim. Holy hell, he had no idea being rimmed would feel this amazing, and a good thirty seconds had passed before he realized that if Cas was going to stop, he probably would've by now. He could stop worrying. Cas let go of his dick to match his other hand's position on the inside of Dean's other thigh, using his thumbs to rub and press around the rim as he went to town with his mouth.

Dean's legs were shaking by the time Cas lifted his head. Dean lifted his own, looking down at Cas through hooded lids. "Lube," Cas requested. Without breaking eye contact, Dean shot one arm out, feeling around for it on the dresser. When he located it, he shoved it at Cas, who quickly popped the cap and squirted some into his palm. He snapped it closed and set it on Dean's stomach.

The bottle was cold, and the muscles in Dean's abdomen jumped a bit. As Cas warmed the lubricant up between his fingers, Dean tossed the bottle back onto the nightstand, briefly hoping it wouldn't fall to the floor. Cas wiped the excess from his fingers down Dean's crack, then traced one slicked-up finger along his hole. Dean melted back into the pillows, and then he felt a bit of pressure. It faded quickly, and Cas was stock still, his only movement his left hand gently squeezing Dean's thigh. As Dean began to relax around him, he wiggled his finger a bit, rubbing along the rim with his thumb.

Cas removed his finger and laid his hand on Dean's thigh. "Roll over." Dean did so immediately, and the friction against his cock as it pressed into the bedspread felt good. Cas spread him open and swiped his fingers up along his entrance, collecting any extra lubricant, and gently pressed two fingers inside. Dean hissed and dropped his head into the pillow.

"Sorry," Cas said softly, his fingers stilling.

"It's fine," Dean breathed. "Really."

Cas twisted his fingers gently before pulling them back out. "Can you get on your knees for me?" Dean pushed himself up onto his knees and elbows, back arched, and Cas placed his left hand on Dean's hip, pushing the two fingers from his other hand back inside. His left hand slowly slid down Dean's thigh as he used his tongue alongside his fingers. A few minutes passed as he twisted them slowly, eager to add a third, but Dean wasn't opening up.

"You need to relax, Dean."

"I know," Dean grunted. "Dammit, I know. I'm trying." He swallowed and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Please don't be sorry."

The longer Cas worked, the more exposed Dean felt. It was probably only about three minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Cas was staring down at him, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his fingers in his fucking ass, and all Dean could think about was how vulnerable he was. He felt kind of stupid, legs spread and ass in the air, face buried in the pillow, and he could feel that tiny little bit of loose skin on his abdomen. He was ninety-nine percent sure it wasn't actually noticeable, but he could feel the way it wasn't entirely attached to the muscles in his abdomen like it should be, and it was immensely distracting. He wondered what Cas was thinking, looking at him from this angle.

Cas' fingers slid out as he sat back on his heels. "You're extremely tense. What's wrong?"

Dean blinked. What exactly was wrong? It wasn't really that it hurt, and it wasn't that it didn't feel awesome. "I, uh... I dunno." He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to figure out how to explain himself. Why the hell could he fantasize about it on the couch, but when it came time to put his money where his mouth was, he just couldn't fucking relax? "Sometimes... I can't really picture myself as anything other than... y'know, what I used to look like." He swallowed. "So I feel kind of dumb in this position." It had taken a lot of time staring into the mirror to recognize the person who was looking back at him. This position? Not something he'd ever seen himself do. "I- I don't know what it looks like, I-"

"I can show you?" Cas offered. "I can take a picture."

"I'd rather you didn't." He paused. "Fuck, I- I'm gonna lay back down now." He slid his knees out from under him and dropped down onto his stomach on the mattress.

Cas moved to lie down next to him, placing one hand on his lower back. "I understand that it's a vulnerable position, being on display like that. But you're very attractive, I promise."

Dean didn't say anything, instead shifting onto his side, back to Cas. All he'd wanted was to hear Cas say nice things again, and now he was doing it anyway and Dean hadn't even earned it. He'd done the opposite of earned it. He didn't deserve it.

"It's okay if you're not ready," Cas said.

"It's not that at all!" Dean protested. "I just feel like a fucking idiot. I got you amped up and then twice I started getting emotional and just... fucking ruined it."

"You didn't ruin it," Cas assured him. "It's fine. We just fooled around anyway."

"Fuck," Dean breathed. "I'm sorry." He'd never been so embarrassed in his adult life. "Raincheck?"

"You don't have to be sorry and you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I do, trust me. Tomorrow. I promise."

"Okay." Cas laid his head down on the pillow, snuggling up behind Dean and tossing his arm around his waist. "I still would've slept with you, you know. Back then," he said quietly.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah. Right. You say that."

"I'm serious. While I appreciate your attractiveness, it's not why I have sex with you. It's because I... I really like you, and I care about you, so..." He pressed his face into the nape of Dean's neck. "I want to be intimate with you. That wouldn't change if you were six-hundred pounds."

"Five-ninety," Dean mumbled.

Cas smiled softly, snorting a small laugh into the back of Dean's neck. "Okay. Five-ninety. My point still stands."

"...Thank you, Cas." Dean huffed a laugh. "But I don't ever want to think about or picture that ever again."

---

Cas awoke in the morning to the sound of music. As he came back to consciousness, he could barely hear it- but some part of it had definitely woken him up. He opened his eyes, and his arm was stretched across Floyd's chest. Dean was gone. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his face. Floyd watched him out of the corner of one sleepy eye.

He pushed the blanket off and swung his legs over, taking a moment to stretch his stiff neck. After pulling his pajamas back on, he left the bedroom and went out into the kitchen, Floyd at his heels. Dean was at the stove, his back turned, singing along to the music as he cooked something on the stove. The music came from a small radio on the counter, set to the local oldies station.

"Cupid, draw back your bow
And let your arrow go
Straight to my lover's heart for me
Nobody but me
Cupid please hear my cry
And let your arrow fly
Straight to my lover's heart for-"

"Morning."

Dean jumped and spun around, placing one hand over his heart. The other held a spatula. "Jesus, you scared me." His mouth was stretched into a half-grin.

"Sorry," Cas said, stepping into the kitchen. "What're you making?"

"Omelettes," Dean said, turning back around and poking at the pan on the stove. "You're hungry, I assume?"

"Of course."

Dean turned his head slightly and smiled at him. "Good. Sit down, I'm almost done."

The station switched to the next song, and although Dean didn't sing along this time, he did hum to himself as he finished cooking breakfast. "Y'know, normally I'd never let you know I listen to this crap, but... I know you do, too... so."

"My mom listened to a lot of oldies," Cas said from where he sat at the table. "Not that that's why I like them, that's just... why I know them."

Dean nodded as he turned off the stove.

"So, are you off today?" He'd been pretty sure Dean was off on Wednesdays, but he'd been too out of it the day before to really think about it when he woke up to Dean gone.

"Yeah," Dean said, sliding the omelette onto a plate. "Jo asked me to switch with her last week." He approached the table with two plates, setting one down in front of Cas. "And I've been seeing Missouri on Wednesdays, so I had to cancel this week."

Cas watched as he sat down across from him with his own plate. "I'll come with you next time."

Dean paused mid-reach for his glass of water. "Really?"

Cas swallowed and nodded. If anything, he would just sit and listen. Even if he didn't decide to book his own appointment, it might help him understand Dean better. "Yes."

Dean's face lit up, a wide grin overtaking his features as he picked up his glass. "Awesome. You'll like her, trust me." He brought his glass to his lips and took a long gulp.

"I hope so," Cas said, picking up his fork and cutting into his omelette. "I haven't had the best experience with 'therapists'."

Dean set his glass back down and looked at Cas carefully. "You've been to therapy before?"

"I'm not sure you could call it that," Cas answered. "I've seen two different therapists, but it was, uh, conversion therapy." He didn't look at Dean, instead poking at the pieces of onion and pepper in the omelette.

"This is nothing like that. I promise."

Cas lifted his eyes to meet Dean's. "I trust you."

Dean smiled warmly. "Good."

Cas slowly worked on his food. "So, do you have any plans for today?"

"I figured we could go get your bag, and then after that I'm not sure. I thought maybe we could go out to the trails with Floyd. He's been missing a lot of walks lately. And so have I."

Cas nodded. He'd been to the trails Dean was talking about a few times before, but it had been a long time since the last. He hoped he could keep up with Dean and Floyd. That would be embarrassing, if he couldn't even keep up with an elderly dog. "Okay."

"Did you have something else in mind?"

"No, that sounds good."

After breakfast, Dean helped Cas enter it into his tracker. He showed him how to scan all of the ingredients and enter in the amounts.

"This... seems like a lot of work," Cas said when they were done. "You do this for every meal?"

"You can add a bunch of ingredients and save it as a meal, and use that in the future," Dean answered. "I'll show you later. But that makes it a lot easier, and it's why I make a lot of the same stuff."

Cas nodded. "Okay." While Dean did the dishes, Cas texted his dealer. "He said we can come whenever."

"Okay. As soon as I'm done we can go." He paused. "I'm surprised he's up this early."

"He's always up."

"Does he sell more than weed?"

Cas looked up from his phone, but Dean had his back turned as he rinsed off a plate. "Why?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. I was just curious."

"Yes."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I wouldn't really know. ...I got shrooms off him once."

Dean laughed. "Now there's an idea."

"...You'd try shrooms?"

"Sure, why not?"

"I don't know why I find that so surprising."

"Me neither." He set a fork into the dish drain and turned around, grabbing the hand towel off of the hook on the wall and drying his hands. "Ready?"

"...Am I supposed to tell him we want shrooms?"

Dean shook his head. "Maybe some other time."

"Okay. Um..." He looked down at himself. He was still wearing his pajamas. "I still need to get dressed."

Dean clapped his hands together. "Let's go then. Chop chop."

Cas stood up quickly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Dean said, his voice sounding a bit sad. "I was just messing with you."

"Uh, right. I'll be right back." He hurried off to the bedroom and got dressed, and when he returned to the living room, Dean was standing by the front door with his boots and jacket on.

"Do you want to drive?" Dean asked.

Cas stopped short. "Uh... no... that- that's okay. I mean, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind driving but can we take your car? I obviously gave it a quick test drive but I'd like to drive it again, see how it's holding up."

"Sure," Cas said, bending down for his black Chuck Taylor's. They'd seen better days, but they still had some life left in them. They weren't nearly as ratty as he used to let them get in high school. Part of him wanted to just tell Dean to sell the car; was it really fair to expect Dean to pay the insurance and give Cas gas money when he didn't even have a job he needed to get to?

Dean grabbed Cas' keys off the hook and Cas followed him outside. "Alright Floyd, I'll be back in a bit," Dean called, pulling the door closed and locking it behind him. They got into the Lincoln and Dean slid the key into the ignition. She started up immediately, and Dean smiled. "She sounds good."

"Better than she did before," Cas noted.

"Yeah, well, I figured I'd give her some TLC while she was already in the shop."

Cas turned to look at him. "Are you saying you did extra work?" Dean's smile grew a little wider. "Thank you," Cas said. "I appreciate it."

"No problem."

Cas looked around at the interior. "You did an excellent job getting all of the blood stains out."

Dean's face fell instantly, and Cas regretted bringing it up. "Yeah. That was..." He shook his head. "Man, when I came in and saw that..."

"If it makes you feel any better, it was ninety-nine percent deer blood."

"That actually does make me feel better."

"And it could've been worse. I could've been impaled by it's antlers."

"Jesus, Cas."

Cas shrugged. "Just sayin'. I'm just lucky I got a face full of ass instead."

---

"So what's this guy's name?" Dean asked, following Cas down a wide hallway with shiny, laminate hardwood flooring and bright white walls.

"Crowley," Cas mumbled. "Alright guy. I've been dealing with him for three years. Hasn't given me a reason not to like him... so far."

"So far?"

Cas shrugged, taking a left as they came to a T. "He's a little off."

"Off?"

"I can't really put my finger on it. He's just weird."

"You shouldn't have told me that. Now I'm biased. You should've waited until we left and then asked if I thought he was weird."

Cas stopped at a doorway and turned to face Dean. "You're right." He turned back to the door and raised one fist to knock, and it opened almost immediately.

"Hello, Cassie," someone said, in what Dean was pretty sure was a British accent.

Cas stepped into the doorway and Dean followed, and an older man with a salt-and pepper beard smiled. "Well hello," he said, closing the door behind Dean. "Who's this?"

"This is Dean."

Dean smiled. "Hi." They both seemed to be waiting for him to do something, so he cleared his throat. "We're here for, uh-"

"I know what you're here for," Crowley said, moving towards the living room. He stopped and stood by the coffee table, where their bag sat in the center. Cas followed him, picking up the bag and dropping the money Dean had given him in its place. "So where'd you find this one?"

"His job," Cas said distractedly, reaching into the bag and pulling out a nugget of weed. He held it up to his face and inspected it as Crowley looked Dean over.

"Nice find," Crowley commented, and Dean raised one eyebrow. He wasn't sure how he felt about the way Crowley was looking at him- like he was a piece of meat. While he was kind of flattered, he was mostly uncomfortable. His eyes flicked over to Cas, who had his entire nose in the bag, smelling the contents. Crowley met his eyes. "When Cassie's finished with you, come find me," he said, his voice low.

Cas heard him, though. "Back off, Crowley," he snapped, coming around the couch to stand next to Dean.

"Oh, come off it," Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes. "You've never brought the same guy in here more than once, so what do you care?"

"What the fuck- That doesn't mean anything. I can buy weed myself, I don't need a chaperone."

"Whatever you say," Crowley replied. "I just don't see the harm in giving the man another option."

Dean could see the gears turning in Cas' head as he thought of an appropriate response. But, he either couldn't come up with one, or he decided it wasn't worth it. "Thanks for the weed," he said finally, his mouth turned down in a scowl.

"My pleasure," Crowley said, lip curled into a smile.

Cas just turned around and headed for the door, and Dean gave one last glance at Crowley- who gave him a creepy smirk- before following him out.

"Wow, okay, so he's definitely weird, biased or not," Dean commented after an awkward stretch of silence, as they made their way down the hallway.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Does he do that to every guy you bring here?"

"No," Cas answered, holding the door for Dean as they exited the building. "He must think you've very attractive."

Dean wasn't sure what to say. "Oh."

They were nearing the car now, and Cas walked right up to the passenger door and put his hand on the handle, peering over the roof at Dean. "Why?"

Dean shrugged as he jammed the key into the lock. "I was just wondering." He paused. "Nice ego boost, I guess." He yanked the door open and dropped down into the drivers seat.

"I guess," Cas agreed, opening his door and getting into the car.

Dean stared out the windshield for a moment. "...Did I just make this awkward?"

Cas huffed out a laugh. "No. Crowley made it awkward."

"Okay. Good." He slid the key into the ignition and started the car. When they arrived back at the house, a small cardboard box was sitting on the front step. "Hey, your thing came!"

"What thing?" Cas asked, watching as Dean scrambled out of the car.

"I got you something," Dean said, exiting the car and walking up to the door. Cas followed behind him as Dean picked up the box. They went inside and Dean set it down on the kitchen table, quickly ripping it open and shaking out the contents. A circular metal item hit the table with a loud clank, followed by a wooden box. "It's a one-hitter," Dean said, picking up the box and pressing his thumb to the top. It slid open and a metal cigarette shot out across the table, narrowly missing Cas and landing on the floor. Dean looked down at the box, eyebrows raised. "Hmm. Powerful spring." He set it down on the table as Cas bent down to pick up the cigarette. "Anyway, I figured it would be easier than rolling joints all the time. Especially when you're driving. And the grinder's for grinding the weed you fill it with, obviously."

Cas set the metal cigarette down on the table next to the grinder. "A one-hitter... Why did I never think of this? Thank you."

"You're welcome!" Dean said, smiling brightly. He was clearly pleased that Cas liked the gift. Cas sat down at the table to grind up some weed while Dean crossed the kitchen and disappeared into the pantry.

Cas had just finished filling the one side of the wooden box with ground-up weed when Dean emerged from the pantry with a backpack.

"What's in there?" Cas asked, squeezing the air out of the bag of weed and folding the top over. He set it down on the table next to the grinder.

"Food and water," Dean answered, setting the backpack down on the kitchen chair.

"...How long are we going to be up there?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. A few hours? I mainly just brought a few things to give us options, not to eat it all. And I've got a water bowl and some treats for Floyd."

Cas nodded and stood from the table, slipping the wooden one-hitter box into his back pocket. "Can we stop at a gas station so I can get cigarettes?"

"Of course." He swung the backpack over his shoulder. "Floyd! You wanna go for a ride?"

Floyd jumped up from his bed and flew across the room to where Dean was standing, dancing in place and looking up at him, tail wagging furiously. Dean smiled and nodded towards the door. "C'mon!" They made their way to the door, and Dean grabbed Floyd's leash off of the hook by the door on the way out, although he let Floyd run loose to the Impala.

Floyd stuck his head out of the back window the entire ride, eyes closed and tongue lolling in the wind.

---

"Are we going all the way to the top?" Cas gasped.

"No," Dean answered, slowing to a stop so Cas could catch up with him. "Do you want to stop for a minute?"

Cas nodded. "I need fucking water," he croaked.

Dean shrugged his backpack off and unzipped the side, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to Cas. He pulled out another one, along with a little plastic bowl, and set it on the ground. He poured half of the bottle into the bowl, and Floyd quickly gulped up the entire thing. Dean filled it again, with only a quarter of the bottle this time, and Floyd took two laps before walking away to sniff some bushes. Dean finished off what was left in the bottle and threw it back in his bag. He watched as Cas downed his entire bottle.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Cas gasped, taking a deep breath after chugging sixteen ounces of water. "Just thirsty." He wiped his forearm across his sweaty forehead.

Dean dumped what Floyd hadn't drank, smacking the bowl against a rock a few times to get the remaining water droplets out. He tossed it back into his bag and zipped it up. "Are you ready or do you need a minute?"

"No," Cas said, shaking his head. "Let's go."

As they walked on, Cas could tell that Dean was slowing his pace so he could keep up. Floyd seemed impatient, sniffing as far ahead as he could on the long leash Dean had him attached to.

"Doesn't seem like this much of an incline until you're actually goin' up, huh?" Dean asked.

"No," Cas agreed breathlessly. "It certainly doesn't."

"I know it's hard, but try to stand up straight," Dean said, walking backwards up the trail and only barely short of breath. "When you hunch forward you're compressing your lungs and making it harder to breathe."

Cas only nodded, making an effort to straighten up. He wished Dean would turn back around; the back of his neck was already drenched in sweat and he was sure his face was red. He felt disgusting.

Finally they made it to flat ground again, and as they exited the cover of the trees, the view was beautiful. "Damn that's gorgeous," Dean commented. He looked over at Cas, who stood a few feet behind him, trying to catch his breath. "Would you want to travel?"

"As long as it's not hiking Mt. Everest," Cas panted.

Dean laughed. "No." He looked back out at the landscape. "I just mean seeing more than Texas."

"Whatever you want, Dean. I never really thought about it, but it sounds fun. Um..." He took a deep breath and let it back out. "Could I have more water, please?"

"Yeah, of course." Dean tore his eyes away from the landscape, quickly unzipping his backpack and handing Cas another water bottle.

"I'm going to sit down," Cas said, pointing towards a rock formation just past the treeline. Dean nodded and followed. It was in the shade, and Dean filled Floyd's bowl again and set it down on the ground. "I didn't realize just how out of shape I am," Cas admitted, wiping his forearm across his face.

"It happens," Dean said, lying back on the rock. Floyd's leash was looped lazily around his wrist. "You get used to doing what you do every day and you think you're fine. Then you try and do something slightly extra and your body's not prepared." He closed his eyes and sighed. "When I had that last doctor's appointment at four-fifty and I refused to go again- I didn't really go much of anywhere after that. I didn't see much of a point. Charlie usually came over to hang out." He chewed his bottom lip. "Anyway, what I was getting at was when I finally went again two years and a hundred and fifty pounds later- holy shit it was weird. Just getting in and out of the car was like, completely fucking foreign. And way more difficult than it should've been. That's when I was really like... what the fuck have I done to myself."

Cas was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I'm pretty disappointed I can't even walk up a hill. Let's just hope I'm never being chased by a murderer."

Dean laughed, and Cas found himself smiling. But then, for some reason, he thought back to the other day. "I'm sorry about the things my mother said to you."

Dean scoffed. "Please, Cas. I've had way worse said to me- I got over it."

"That doesn't make it right."

"Of course not, but don't worry about it. It's not your fault, anyway."

"I know," Cas said softly.

"I'm more worried about the things she said to you, to be honest."

Cas let out a bitter laugh. "It's nothing I'm not used to. Like it was the first time she's called me a slob, or pathetic, or a lazy shit, or a faggot."

"I thought your mom was too good for swearing."

Cas looked down at Dean out of the corner of his eye, only for a split second before looking back out through the trees. "She's a very different person when she's drinking. It's like... she thinks it's okay to lose her shit and god will forgive her the next morning. I don't know. She just lets it all loose. I can't even begin to tell you some of the shit she's said to me while she was drunk."

"I don't think I want to know."

"You really don't. ...Maybe she's just got multiple personalities." When Dean didn't say anything, he huffed a sigh. "Just my luck that they'd all be awful."

Dean slid his leg over to nudge Cas' thigh. "C'mon, let's smoke. And lay back with me."

Twenty minutes and a bag of trail mix later, Cas was curled up into Dean's side, eyes closed.

"Can I take a picture?" Dean asked.

"Just don't put it on Facebook," Cas mumbled, turning his head to bury his face in Dean's armpit.

"Why not?"

"Because I look like shit."

"Fine." Cas heard the shutter on Dean's phone go off. "And you don't look like shit," he said.

"Whatever you say."

Dean could feel him smiling against his chest. "You ready to head back?"

"Yeah. I'm tired."

"I'll bet."

"How long did it take us to get up here?"

"Two hours."

"Ugh."

"It'll be faster on the way down," Dean promised, sitting up. "C'mon."

Cas dragged himself off of the rock and into a standing position. It definitely was faster heading back down, and they were back at the parking lot before they knew it.

"Do you want to come back on Saturday?"

"Yes. I want to do this often. And eventually go farther."

Dean smiled as he put the Impala in reverse. "Good."

---

"You ready for dinner?"

Cas jolted awake to see Dean hovering above him. "Fuck," he mumbled, rubbing his face. He got up off the couch and made his way over to the table, and on his plate was salad, and what looked like fish. Across the table, Dean's plate was the same, albeit a slightly smaller portion.

Dean appeared with two glasses of water, placing one down in front of Cas before taking his seat.

"What is it?" Cas asked, staring down at his plate.

"Salmon," Dean answered, picking up his fork. "And I'm not your mom, so don't worry," he added, cracking a grin. "It's good, I promise." He cut into the fillet as Cas picked up his fork and did the same.

Cas gave an approving murmur around his first bite. "You're right," he said, once he'd swallowed. "It is good."

"Thank you." Dean smiled. "We have to log it into your tracker when we're done. Bit of advice, always do it beforehand, otherwise you'll forget. But I didn't want it to get cold."

Cas nodded. "Can I, um... have dressing?"

"Right. Sorry." Dean stood up and grabbed a container of Italian from the fridge, pouring a bit into a small cup he grabbed out of the cabinet and sliding it over. "Not sure if you wanted ranch, but it's got way too much fat," he said quietly.

"It's okay. I know there's going to be a million changes." He picked up the cup to pour it onto his salad, but Dean held a hand out.

"Wait. Dunk your fork in and then put some salad on it. Don't just pour it all on."

Cas nodded and did as he was told. It didn't carry the usual amount of flavor he was used to on the rare occasion he ate a dressing-drenched salad, but he could actually taste the ingredients of the salad beneath the dressing, so he guessed it wasn't that bad. All the ingredients were fresh and crisp, and it was surprisingly much more flavorful without a ton of dressing.

Dean was watching him carefully, and then he cleared his throat. "I'm not, like... being annoying, am I?"

Cas smiled, swallowing his food before he spoke. "No, Dean. I asked you to do this. It's okay."

Dean nodded and returned to his food. Once they finished, he collected their plates. "Finish your water, it'll help fill you up." He turned and made his way towards the sink, picking up the sponge and beginning to wash the dishes.

"Do you want me to wash them?" Cas asked from behind him, where he was still seated at the table.

"It's okay, I got it. You can go get changed, if you want."

"I actually kind of need a shower."

"Right," Dean said without turning around. "Duh. Me too. Let me just finish washing these first, otherwise you'll get no hot water."

"Um... speaking of that, how long do I have?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, if you need to shower after me, I need to save you enough hot water... right? My mom would make me be in and out in ten minutes."

Dean didn't respond right away, and Cas could see the tension in his shoulders. Finally, "You can shower as long as you want, Cas," he said, his voice steady. "If you use up all the hot water, I'll wait for more to heat up. It doesn't take long."

Cas felt like there was tension in the room, and he didn't understand why. After a few moments of silence, he finally asked, "...Did I do something wrong?"

Dean set the last dish he was rinsing into the drain and rinsed his hands off. He turned around, towel in hand, and began to dry them. "Not at all, why?"

"I..." Cas trailed off, unsure of how to explain himself. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but he just felt like he'd done something wrong and pissed Dean off. "I don't know. You seemed pissed off."

Dean's shoulders sagged a bit and he hung the hand towel back on the hook to dry. "I'm not pissed off," he said with a sigh. "Well, maybe a little. But not at you, at your mom. Okay?"

Cas nodded slowly. "Okay."

"So go take a shower. And take your time."

Cas finished his last sip of water and stood up, and as he left the kitchen to cross the living room he could see Dean taking his glass to the sink out of the corner of his eye.

As he stepped under the hot water, he thought about their interaction in the kitchen. Maybe he shouldn't bring his mother up anymore. It was clearly distressing to Dean, and what good did that do either of them?

He was done washing before he knew it, and he was pretty sure it had only been ten minutes. He wasn't sure what else he could do with the time, so he leaned against the tiles and turned around, angling the shower head so it beat down on his sore neck and shoulders. It felt good, and he closed his eyes and lost himself in the sound of the rushing water.

Suddenly he realized the perfect way to kill some time in the shower. It should've been obvious, but he'd never had time at his mom's. Even if no one was home, he was always terrified they were going to come home while he was in the shower and bust in if he took too long. He thought back to the night before, when he had Dean on his hands and knees on the bed, only this time Dean wasn't a nervous wreck. Cas had three fingers in already, and Dean was leaning back into him, eager for more.

He reached down and took his dick in hand, stroking slowly as he imagined lining himself up. He sunk in so easily, and his brain supplied a beautiful moan he'd gotten from Dean one of the other times they'd fooled around. He started stroking a little faster, squeezing his fist around the head on each upstroke. He could see his hands on Dean's hips, each thumb resting on either side of that faint horizontal scar.

"Cas... more, please..." Dean whined, head turned and face mashed into the pillow.

Cas complied, surging his hips forward. He braced himself on the shower wall with one arm, head lowered and fist pumping furiously. In his mind, he removed one hand from Dean's hip, leaning forward and grabbing onto Dean's hair. "Tell me what you want, Dean," he said into his ear.

Dean bit his lip, briefly flashing Cas those perfectly white teeth, before he let it pop back out and his tongue came out to wet it.

"Just tell me what you want, anything, and I'll do it. But you have to tell me." He just needed to hear him say it. He was already so fucking close, he just needed to hear fantasy Dean say it.

Dean opened his mouth just as Cas hit his prostate, and a groan escaped instead. He choked down some air, swallowed, and tried again. "Fuck... come in me, Cas, please. Please."

That was exactly what Cas was waiting to hear, and he dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder, his grip on his hair only tightening as he came. He bit down into the meat on Dean's shoulder, and Dean actually mewled, coming in spurts onto the sheets.

Cas slowly opened his eyes as his ears once again registered the sound of running water. He closed them again as he took a moment to come down, and then he rinsed off the tiles and himself and turned off the water.

Dean was in the bedroom when Cas entered, sitting on the edge of the bed and doing something on his phone. "All yours," Cas said nonchalantly. He felt weird that he'd just jerked off in Dean's shower to the thought of Dean; but he guessed it was their shower now, right? Although he still felt that it was wrong getting off on the thought of something that Dean had been uncomfortable with. That was wrong... right?

Dean looked up from his phone and smiled. "Feel better?"

"Yeah." Before he could say anything else, Dean set his phone down on the bed and spoke again.

"Listen, I'm sorry about before. In the kitchen. I don't want you to ever think that I'm angry at you over what your mom did. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about it, if you want to. Or ask questions if you doubt something's normal." He paused, observing the towel wrapped around Cas' waist. "Restricting someone's showers to ten minutes isn't normal, especially when they're an adult contributing towards bills."

Cas wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just nodded.

"Alright," Dean said, clearly looking to change the subject, "You were only in there for twenty minutes so I'm pretty sure there's enough hot water left for me. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

Dean left the room and Cas began drying off. Once he'd gotten dressed in his pajamas, he sat down on the bed to check his own phone. He had a few Facebook notifications, mainly Gabe and Kevin tagging him in memes or videos. As he was replying to one of the tags, Dean's phone went off next to him. Out of instinct, he glanced down at the source of the noise, and it was a long block of text from someone named Benny.

Cas tried to wrack his brain. Dean had mentioned him the first time Cas had come over. He was the reason Dean kept an ashtray outside, so he must have come over fairly often, but Cas couldn't recall Dean really mentioning him aside from that. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he found himself skimming over the text message before Dean's phone screen blacked out again.

Benny: sounds like a good time lol. it's been great, actually. i'm gonna be back in town for a little while this weekend...

The screen went black. "Dammit." Hating himself for already not trusting Dean, he pressed the home button and the screen lit up again.

Benny: sounds like a good time lol. it's been great, actually. i'm gonna be back in town for a little while this weekend... do u wanna get together? its been way too long and i know how u are, i'm sure ur ready to let loose

Cas wasn't sure what the hell that was supposed to mean, but he didn't like it. Did Benny just mean drinking? From what Cas had seen, Dean wasn't much of a big drinker. The text definitely gave off a hook-up vibe, and Cas found himself sitting there for nearly ten minutes in silence wondering what the fuck before Dean finally came back into the room. He acted interested in his own phone as Dean dried himself off and pulled his pajamas on, then picked up his phone. Cas watched out of the corner of his eye as Dean stared at the phone for a brief moment before he began typing away. Then he hit send and locked the screen, slipping it into his pocket and looking over at Cas.

"Netflix?"

"...Sure."

Dean raised one eyebrow. "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah," Cas said quickly, standing up. As he followed Dean out into the living room, he thought back on the things Gabe had said. He was beginning to worry now that Gabe had been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was dumb for moving so fast-

Before he knew it, he could hear Floyd crunching his kibble in the kitchen and Dean was plopping down next to him on the couch. Dean leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek, then pulled back and frowned at him.

"Something's obviously bothering you."

Cas looked into his eyes. He looked genuinely concerned, and that was when Cas decided he wasn't going to do this, whatever 'this' was. He wasn't going to do that thing where he just sat back to "see what happens", until it got to the point where he walked in on his 'partner' actively fucking someone else. He wasn't going to ignore things that didn't seem right. So many red flags he'd ignored before, and he wasn't going to do that again. He wanted them to be honest with each other, so that's what he was going to do.

"Um... kind of. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Dean replied, clearly looking more concerned.

"What, exactly... is your relationship with Benny?"

Dean looked confused for a split second, before realizing Cas must have seen the text pop up on his phone. "Ohhhh," he breathed, looking relieved. "Benny is a very good friend." His expression changed again, and he looked a bit worried about how Cas would react to his next words. "...But we've also fooled around. A lot." He licked his lips nervously. "We haven't in a while though." He paused. "Not since before you and I met."

Cas nodded slowly. "I believe you."

Dean studied his face for a moment, frowning slightly. "I believe that you want to believe me, but I don't think you actually do." He leaned away from Cas to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Here." He unlocked it and opened his conversation with Benny.

Cas gave him a small smile; he didn't want Dean to feel it necessary to prove anything, but he appreciated it all the same. He scrolled back to the beginning of the day's conversation.

Benny: hey brotha, how's it hangin?

Dean: hey, it's been a while! i've been alright. working a lot as usual. yourself? how's biz?

Benny: sounds like a good time lol. it's been great, actually. i'm gonna be back in town for a little while this weekend... do u wanna get together? its been way too long and i know how u are, i'm sure ur ready to let loose

Dean: it has been way too long. i'd love to hang out, but that's it though. i'm with someone, believe it or not. he even moved in already. maybe we can all get together? i'd like you to meet him, he's really cool.

Just as Cas finished reading Dean's response, a wave of relief washing over him, another text came through from Benny.

Benny: well damn, i never thought i'd see the day. dean winchester settlin down. with a dude. you wouldn't even move in with lisa after what, 2 years? good for you. i'd love to meet him, i'm comin in friday night and leaving sunday evenin.

Cas handed Dean his phone back. "You really think I'm cool?"

Dean, who had been watching Cas carefully, burst into laughter. "Yes, Cas."

"I'm sorry I doubted you," Cas mumbled, eyes cast downward.

"Don't be. I can see how that text would look really bad out of context."

"I shouldn't have looked at your phone in the first place."

"It's okay, Cas. I left it right next to you. I don't expect you to look away if it goes off." Cas wasn't going to admit that he'd purposely looked. He was sure Dean already knew. "And if I wanted privacy, I wouldn't have left it right next to you," he continued. Cas nodded, and without a word Dean stood up and walked away, out into the hallway.

Shit. He was pissed off. He said he wasn't, but his mother would also say she wasn't mad, and then explode later. I'm fucking blowing this already. I'm acting like a crazy jealous girlfriend.

Dean returned seconds later with the bag of weed from the bedroom and a bong. Cas' eyes widened, and Dean smiled. "Smoke?"

"You kept it?" Cas asked, eyes glues on the glass piece as Dean rounded the coffee table to take a seat on the couch.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know... You broke up with me, so I thought maybe you'd gotten rid of it," Cas said quietly.

Dean frowned. "No, Cas." He set the bong on the table and the bag in his lap, opening it and pulling out a nug. He broke it up as best he could and packed it into the bowl head. Once it was full, he picked it back up and held it out to Cas.

Cas lifted his legs up onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, and settled the base of the bong in his lap. He admired the colors blown into the glass in the glow of the TV before he realized Dean was holding out a lighter.

The bong had been his birthday present. He'd been worried about his mother finding it and smashing it, so he'd kept it at Dean's house. When they broke up, he didn't think he'd ever seen it again.

They smoked and watched TV for a while. Eventually, Cas ended up lying across Dean's lap, with Dean sideways, feet propped up on the coffee table. Dean's fingers were threaded through his hair, lazily scratching his scalp. Cas was having trouble keeping his eyes open, and he was close to dozing off.

"Did you still wanna do that tonight?" Dean asked. The words came out quickly, but his voice was quiet.

Cas stirred slightly. "I don't think my legs are good for much right now. They're like jell-o."

Cas felt Dean's stomach jump as he huffed a little laugh. "Okay. Do you wanna go to bed?"

"Mhmm." He slowly pushed himself up, rubbing his face as Dean grabbed the weed. In the bedroom, Dean tucked it away in Cas' night stand drawer as Cas stripped down. He left the clothes in a pile on the floor for the morning and crawled under the blanket, as Dean did the same on the opposite side of the bed.

Dean shut off the lamp and rolled over, wrapping one arm tightly around Cas. "You're so warm," he murmured, pressing his nose into the back of Cas' neck.

"I know."

"You know your legs are gonna hurt even more tomorrow, right?"

"Dammit."

Dean laughed against his skin, then pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. "Night, Cas."

"Goodnight Dean."

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A/N: PLEASE let me know what you thought! Whenever I need motivation to write I go back and read all of your awesome comments. Next chapter will be Cas' surgery, their appointment with Missouri... And we'll see what else is in store... stay tuned!