When Castiel came from the bathroom, Dean was sorting through a duffle bag on the couch and wearing a pair of loose cotton pants. Castiel went to his dresser and pulled on a fresh pair of underwear.

"Do you want me to put this somewhere?" Dean asked, holding up the bag. Dean hadn't come in with it, so he assumed he'd gone to his car.

"The closet is fine. You can use the bottom dresser drawer if you want or hang things in the closet," Castiel said.

Dean went to the closet and tossed the bag inside. His clothes were going to be horribly wrinkled, but Castiel didn't plan on taking him anywhere, so he didn't particularly care. He went to the refrigerator again and took out another bottle of water finishing it quickly and taking another to the living room with him.

"What do you do in between?" Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged, "I don't know. You can do whatever it is you do normally and I can keep myself entertained. Or we can talk some. You can get to know the dude sticking his dick up your ass."

"I know you enough. Thank you," Castiel said.

"Ah come on, don't be one of those alphas," Dean said with a small laugh.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'm more than a dick, as nice as my dick might be," Dean said and winked.

Castiel snorted, not able to restrain his own small smile.

"And I'm cozier than shoving an ice block down your pants," Dean said, sitting back on the couch and holding out his arm for Castiel to lean against him.

Castiel sat at the opposite end of the couch. "What were you going to watch?"

Dean dropped his arm and smiled partially at Castiel. He was glad Dean didn't seem to be taking his rejections to heart. They weren't meant to barb, but he didn't see the reasoning to crowd each other until it became a necessity. Although, the cloth of the couch was already beginning to chaff his shoulders.

"Comedy okay?"

"That's fine," Castiel said.

"Huh, you didn't strike me as the kind of guy who liked that stuff."

"I like to laugh."

"Really now? So far the only thing I've seen you laugh at was me," Dean said.

"Maybe you just aren't funny," Castiel said.

"Ohh low, Cas," Dean said with a mock groan.

Castiel smiled faintly as he watched Dean sort through the comedy section of the movie service. He settled on a movie called Groundhog Day. Castiel had heard of it, but he'd never seen it. He did like Bill Murray. He couldn't remember what he had seen him in, but he had enjoyed it. He thought.

They made it halfway before Castiel was wiping sweat from his forehead and Dean was dragging him bodily to press against him. Dean laid down on the couch and tucked Castiel in against the back of the couch and his long bare side. Castiel laid his cheek on Dean's chest as the heat began to wear on his sense.

"So if you don't watch movies, what do you do?" Dean asked.

"I work," Castiel said without lifting his head.

"What do you do?"

"I'm the CEO of Hallet. We make-," Castiel began.

"I know what you make. I have your tires on my Impala," Dean said. "Really? You're the CEO?"

Castiel nodded against Dean's cool skin. "Six years and counting."

"Then you like cars?" Dean asked.

"Yes."

"Awesome. I'm a mechanic."

"I thought you were a prostitute," Castiel said. It felt like he were drunk with the heat building again and being so close to Dean. His coolness was keeping the edge of the fever away, but being near was clouding his mind and making him say things he normally wouldn't. To his slightly relief, Dean laughed.

"Sometimes. Working at the shop actually pays the bills though. This just gives me a little more cash to play around with," Dean said.

"Your profile wasn't on the website," Castiel said.

"I'm new. I worked for a place on the north end for a few years before this."

Castiel frowned. "Are you clean?"

"You better hope so, right?" Dean asked. Then he laughed at Castiel's frown. "Yes, I'm clean. They test us each time."

"How did you start?" Castiel asked, watching the movie over Dean's chest, but not paying attention. His skin was beginning to seal against Dean's with moisture. The stomach cramps hadn't worsened beyond their monotonous back drop, though.

Dean shrugged beneath him. "My parents died when I was twenty. My brother presented as an omega and the system threatened to take him away from me. So I had to start a steady income to get a house nice enough for the social worker to approve and to pay for the psychology tests to prove I was stable enough to keep Sam in the house. Then after that was all over, I had to put money toward his college fund. Our parents had covered a lot of it, but a little more never hurt."

The hum of Dean's voice was comforting beneath Castiel's ear, but he didn't allow himself to be absorbed by it as he listened. He hadn't expected the honesty, but he appreciated it very much. He didn't know how to express that. He wasn't the greatest in social situations, so he laid his hand on Dean's sternum.

"You sound like an amazing brother."

"He's a shit, but I love him," Dean said with his light-hearted smile.

"Where is he now?"

"In the city. He's a lawyer. He went to Stanford."

"That's impressive."

"Yeah he knows it too."

Castiel smiled faintly. "You must be proud."

Dean shrugged again, "He's not a huge disappointment." Then he looked down at Castiel. "So, now answer one of mine."

Castiel only continued to look up at Dean, waiting for him to ask his question.

"Why were you on suppressants for twelve years?"

"I was raped."

Castiel had a habit of spewing sensitive information in a non-delicate way and he watched its effect on Dean. The playful expression disappeared and other emotions followed closely behind. There was of course, sympathy. There was always sympathy, which Castiel begrudgingly accepted as unavoidable. Then something that may have been understanding.

Castiel began to talk. He couldn't decide if it was because Dean had been so honest with him, if the heat was making him softer, or if he didn't like that he felt he had made Dean uncomfortable with his answer.

"He was the older brother of my high school boyfriend. Our parents, like many in small towns like I'm from, looked the other way when my first heats began and I spent time with Gabriel. We planned to be partnered when we were of age and we had our parents' approval. Then when I was nineteen, I was at Gabriel's during a heat. His parents were out of town and his brother was home from college. He and his friend caught me in the basement and kept me there through the night and afternoon, while Gabriel slept."

Dean was massaging his neck now. "Then your boyfriend didn't know?"

"I don't believe so. We didn't speak but a handful of times after. Luke and Mike, the two alphas, were sentenced to twenty-five years in prison. It caused tension and I believe he felt guilty or possibly he just didn't want to handle what it had done psychologically."

Dean leaned down and kissed Castiel's hair. The intimacy of it made him jump slightly. It was very tender.

"And all this time I just thought you were an asshole," Dean said.

Castiel laughed. "I have my hang-ups, I admit, but that isn't generally one of them."

"Think you might be entitled to a few," Dean said, still rubbing his neck. "But that doesn't explain why it's been twelve years. They told me you were thirty-five."

"I moved to live with my grandmother after. She was progressive, but she didn't believe in suppressants. She didn't want me on them. She was afraid they would make me infertile. Now it seems she may not have been wrong."

"You can't have kids?" Dean asked.

"My doctor doesn't know. I was taken off suppressants a month ago. They've been damaging my ovaries and kidneys."

"Sorry, Cas, but no shit. You can't suppress stuff for that long and expect the system not to get junked up. Now I get it. You're just trying to reset itself."

"Essentially, yes," Castiel said.

Castiel rubbed his cheek against Dean's chest roughly. He didn't know why he'd done it until he smelled Dean more fully. He rubbed his cheek against him again. His stubble rasped over Dean's skin. Then he turned and put his mouth on Dean to see if he tasted as cool as he smelled. He sucked toward the center of Dean's chest.

Dean grunted. "You change gears quick."

Castiel grunted around the skin in his mouth. It wasn't as cold as Dean smelled, but it was soothing. He pushed off his underwear with one hand as lubricant began to bubble from his opening. His stomach began to cramp in earnest as he went to straddle Dean's hips.

Dean held him in place. "No. We have to wait awhile."

"It burns," Castiel said.

His eyesight was beginning to unfocused as more sweat poured down his brow. He was beginning to pant. His entrance was grasping around nothing and the emptiness was beginning to go passed uncomfortable to pain. Dean caught his lower face in his hand, squeezing until Castiel looked him in the eyes.

"We're going to try something. Lay still. You can't move right now."

Castiel made a noise low in his throat. It sounded like a whine as he rutted his hips uselessly against Dean's thigh. In some region of his brain, he was mortified at himself. This was not how he acted. He would be better than his hormones. He wasn't an animal. That voice screamed when he whined into Dean's throat. It was like being a prisoner in his own mind. He knew what was happening, but he couldn't stop it. He was being needy and base, but he physically couldn't stop. It shouldn't be this severe. He shouldn't be reacting like this, not at all and certainly not this quickly. Dean didn't seem panicked by it.

Castiel made himself breathe deeply. He could trust Dean to be his barometer in his. Surely, Dean would speak if something were very wrong.

Dean pushed down his own pants and began to masturbate, squeezing Castiel to his side. Castiel laid his cheek on Dean's chest and cupped his hand around Dean's testicles. They were heavy and cool like pieces of stone wrapped in silk. They were so soft. He watched as Dean's knot began to form at the base of his penis. He brushed his fingers over it and Dean exhaled sharply. Lubricant flooded between Castiel's cheeks.

Castiel reached behind himself and wiped some of the liquid into his hand before wrapping it around Dean's knot and spreading it over Dean's dick. Dean groaned deeply and pulled on himself quicker. Dean wrapped one hand tightly around his knot and tugged with the other until his body jerked and he began to cum over his own stomach.

"Drink some," Dean said roughly.

Castiel dragged his tongue over Dean's stomach. He licked puddles of semen from Dean's chest, neck, and stomach, sucking at his skin when he finished with each spot. The sperm was cool going down his throat. It had a slightly bitter edge, but no more bitter than a sweet lemon. It was his condition that made it addicting, but it didn't matter. He wasn't there to judge himself, not at that moment.

He was busy licking the continuing flow from around Dean's knot when Dean sat up and yanked him up. Castiel whined, trying to twist to get back to Dean's stomach when Dean slipped his fingers into his body. Then he arched his back and went still. It was so cool. So blessedly cool. He froze as Dean began to reach between them to tug at his own dick farther then massage the semen into Castiel's hole.

"Is it working?" Dean asked roughly.

"Yes," Castiel said with his eyes squeezed shut.

Dean continued to work semen into him, using only his fingers. As Castiel's control returned, he was thankful that Dean hadn't done anything more. Even his fingers reminded him of how tender he was. Groundhog Day continued to play while Castiel laid on top of Dean and Dean continued his administrations.

"That's all I've got," Dean said as the credits began to play. He squeezed Castiel's ass.

"Thank you," Castiel said.

Then he began to get up, as comfortable as Dean felt, it couldn't be comfortable for Dean, who was being crushed beneath his weight. Without his fingers inside of Castiel, it was becoming uncomfortable for him as well. Castiel stood and pulled on his underwear.

"Would food be appealing?" Castiel asked.

"How do you go from being a finger puppet to Rain Man in less than a minute?" Dean asked, putting his hand behind his head.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel said, as he went to the kitchen and took menus from one of the drawers. He brought them back to the couch and gave them to Dean. "They'll deliver."

Dean flipped through them before holding up one for a burger restaurant Castiel had been to a handful of times. He wasn't overly fond of their food. It was normally coated in a layer of grease, but they did serve a chocolate milkshake that sounded inexplicably good at the moment.

"Sound good?" Dean asked.

"That's fine," Castiel said.

Castiel placed the order and Dean started another movie. When the food came, Castiel paid and they ate on the couch at opposite ends. When the heat waves began again, Castiel tucked his feet beneath Dean's thigh and Dean began to rub his leg. They said nothing about it, but Castiel watched the clock closely. When he had held off an hour longer than the last lapse between waves, he moved closer to Dean, who pulled him in against him. Dean aided him the same way. He fell into an exhausted sleep without moving away from Dean, holding on to him and unwilling to move.