A/N: This chapter contains mention of male rape when Dean was in captivity, and a very vague reference to… Well, it's very vague, so if you don't get it… well, keep reading it's not really of much import anyway. Just a bad dream. And if you do get it, try not to think too much and move on… lots of good things follow.
P.S. In case you're wondering what Castiel was humming while making pancakes, it's "Today My Life Begins" by Bruno Mars
Their first day as official roommates went well. Or at least as well as Dean could've hoped for.
By the time Dean got up, which by the way was 6.30 AM, Castiel was already up and about. When Dean rolled himself towards the bathroom, he saw Cas flipping pancakes in the kitchen. He stopped to take the sight before him. Cas, freshly showered – Dean realized this because his hair was still glistening and his skin had reddish tinge to it. Damn observational skills – was wearing a pair of faded denims and a black tee, looking perfectly at home on his knees before the lowered stove, humming contentedly. Dean watched as Cas poured a cupful after cupful of batter into the greased pan, expertly flipping the half-cooked pancakes with a flick of his wrist, before flipping them again onto a neat little stack on the plate beside him. As he watched the slow progressing scene before him, his thoughts wheeled themselves to far off and exotic places where he imagined even better scenarios for Cas to be on his knees, looking up at him with those wild blue eyes and humming quietly in that low rumbling voice.
And then Cas coated two of his fingers with the last of the batter, slowly sucking them into his mouth. Dean flinched as his cock gave a slight twitch. If Dean hadn't been as quiet as he thought he was, or if Cas had given any indication that he knew he had an audience, Dean would have sworn he was being a tease. Instead the poor guy had no idea he was playing the lead in his roommate's lewd fantasies. It kinda made Dean feel like a Peeping Tom, but damn if it wasn't hot. So he sat quietly as Cas put on a damn good show, alternately swiping his fingers across the mixing bowl and licking and sucking on them, making pornworthy noises.
It was only when his cock started screaming for attention that Dean grunted loudly and shook himself out of his daze to find Castiel, still on knees, staring at his crotch, the last remnants of batter on his lower lip and an amused smile on his face. Dean glanced down to look at the horribly obvious tent in his boxers and flushed tomato red as he looked back up and his eyes met Cas', waiting for him to bolt towards the nearest exit. Instead Cas stood up, slowly swiped his tongue across his lower lip to suck the batter in – Dean's cock gave another scream – then pointedly smiled at his crotch and said, "You should take care of that." Dean gulped loudly and nodded, before turning in direction of the bathroom, to finally finish the task he had set out to perform, mentally cursing Alistair for taking away any chance he had of having anything normal. Ever. "Hurry up," he heard behind him. "Breakfast's a-waiting."
-x-x-x-
When Dean came back to consciousness, he was still strapped on the rack, butt naked. It was like after Gabe was gone they hadn't even bothered to take him down. He saw the blood bag on the pole beside him, the tube trailing to his strapped arm, ensuring he did not pull it out like last time, and felt stitches pull across his abdomen and chest. The past few sessions had been all about getting acquainted with the Devil's Knife. Yellow Eyes has been busy, he thought. As was his standard ritual when he became conscious, he wiggled his limbs to check whether or not they were all functioning. He was surprised to find that all his limbs were, in fact, working. How the hell had Alistair avoided damaging any major organs, was a mystery to him. The bodies they'd been "gifted" had always been mutilated beyond recognition. So why the heck was he still in one piece?
"Oh! Hello, Major," Alistair said coming into the room, shaking the crumbs of his shirt. "Glad to see you've finally decided to join us for tea," he said cheerfully.
"Alistair…" Dean groaned. He was sure his vocal chords had been damaged permanently. "Nice to know you offering me some," he replied cockily. "Can I have some biscuits to go while you're at it?"
"Sure… sure," Alistair smiled happily. "I'll make you a deal, Major. You tell us what we need to know, and you can have all the biscuits you want," he smirked.
"I've already told you what need to know, Alistair," Dean replied hoarsely, the conversation taking a toll on him. "You can take your deal, and stick it where the sun don't shine."
"I meant to bring that up," Alistair replied, pleased that the conversation was going where he wanted. "Y'see…" he said turning to Yellow Eyes who had appeared behind him. "'I always wondered why Major doesn't give a shit about our personal sessions," he mused. "But then I discover that Major here is a swinger." Dean grimaced, knowing what he was talking about. "I never realized our personal sessions were as pleasurable to him as they are to me," he smiled sweetly at Dean. "Isn't that right, Major?"
"Fuck you!" Dean spat mustering all his strength. Ever since his capture, he had been raped more times than he cared to count. It didn't bother him. Like everything else, he could endure it. But this… the way Alistair was smiling like he was the fat kid in an all-you-count-eat candy store… bothered Dean more than anything that'd ever been done to him.
"Ah… so you do know what I'm talking about," Alistair nodded happily. "Now Major… I'm gonna ask you one last time, is there anything… anything at all… you wish to share with us?"
"Do your worst," Dean whispered draining the last of his energy.
"Be careful what you wish for Major," Alistair warned, as Dean felt the pressure on his ankle straps release and saw his knees being pushed up against his chest. His mind found purchase in the memory that he always fell back on during these times… him at 4 years old, sitting on his bed at night, while his mother cradled new born Sam at her breast, singing 'Hey Jude.' Then she tucked him in his crib and turned to Dean, on his tiny little cot, whispering, "Remember, love, the angels are watching over you," as she tucked the blankets in under his chin and kissed him good night.
"The Angels are watching over me." That's what he prayed every time Alistair came at him with a new toy. And that's what he was praying when he saw Alistair maliciously cradling his Devil's knife. His eyes widened and he swallowed a gasp, as he realized what was going to happen. His nails scraped hard against the cold metal surface and his entire body convulsed in blinding pain, as he shut his eyes tightly, and went back in time to see his 9 year old self clutching to his mother's wasted body for the last time.
That was the last time he felt his legs.
-x-x-x-
But now when he lowered himself butt naked into the hot tub, his thoughts weren't of evil white eyes, or mocking yellow ones. His thoughts were centered on the warm pair of blue eyes, belonging to the man in his kitchen.
His hand gripped his erection, as he thought of Cas kneeling on the floor, and started stroking to the image of Cas sucking pancake batter off his fingers. The more batter he sucked, the faster the strokes became, and louder their moans… until the Cas of his imagination was practically begging for the batter and Dean in the bathtub was fucking his own hand, tittering just along the edge. But it was only after Cas of his imagination acknowledged Dean's presence and gave him that crazy smile and huskily said, "come for me, Major," that Dean felt his balls tighten and erupted all over his hand. He waited in the tub, filled with water and his cum, for his breathing to settle, then drained it and filled it afresh.
He heaved himself upwards and reached for the shampoo and bath gel kept within an easy reach, blaming Carmen for burdening him with useless Natural shit like Jojoba shampoo and Sandalwood-Turmeric bath gel. Why couldn't he have simple chemical-ridden 10 dollar crap like a normal person? He was surprised to find the bottles almost wet, and realized that Cas must've used them when having his bath. It alone was enough for his dick to come back to life. As Dean poured a dollop of shampoo on his palm, he imagined Cas' fingers gently massaging his scalp. Gel replaced shampoo as lean fingers moved down his torso, skillfully, expertly caressing each and every part of his body like he flipped the pancakes.
When he finally reached for the washcloth, he noticed that apart from his own, there was another slightly wet one belonging to Cas, and chose it without hesitation. He roamed the rough fabric all over his body, scrubbing softly. He knew he was acting like a total pervert, but this was probably the closest he would ever get to the blue-eyed enigma, that was Castiel. He rinsed the washcloth and replaced it back in its place. He drained the tub again and reached for the state-of-the-art hand-held shower that Sammy had installed. It was one of the few things that made him glad that his baby brother had the means and the will to spoil his elder brother.
He drained the tub for the last time, raised himself onto the edge of the tub to reach for one the towels and was surprised to find them straightened and neatly folded in exact half across the bar, like the way you find in high-class luxury hotels. He dried himself thoroughly then carefully using his useless legs as support, leaned back and raised himself just enough to wrap the towel around his waist, mentally blessing Lisa, his therapist, once again for having enough patience to make him independent enough to have a semblance of normal existence.
He moved from the edge of the tub to his wheelchair, when he saw his reflection in the full length mirror – one of the few things that made him uneasy that his baby brother had the means and the stubbornness to overindulge his elder brother – and noticed that he was naked from the waist up. He grabbed another towel from the bar and draped it across his shoulders. Even with all the plastic surgeries he'd had, his body still had enough scars to make Evel Knievel blush. He tucked the loose corners into the towel wrapped around his waist and making sure it did not fall off, quickly wheeled himself towards his room.
It was a combination of his upbringing and his job that Dean never selected his clothes before heading for the bath. That way no one could possibly mess with them. One can never be too careful in the hostile territory. But today, as he wheeled himself inside his room, he found that not only his clothes had already been selected for him, they were neatly laid out on his bed… warm and pressed. Evidently someone had wasted no time to go through his stuff without any consideration of personal space. And where the heck had Cas found an iron?
But even though he wanted to call and chastise Castiel for going through his dresser without his permission or so much as a forethought, another, more desperate and very vocal part of him longed for this… whatever it was… and against his better judgement and with million reasons of "why this is a very bad idea" going through his head, he quietly dressed himself in the clothes – a black tee-shirt and dark green short-sleeved shirt, faded blue overshirt and a pair of faded denims – Castiel had laid out for him.
-x-x-x-
When he wheeled himself into the kitchen/dining for the second time that day, Dean made sure he was as loud as possible, so Cas wouldn't feel like he was being snuck up on. But Cas stayed still until Dean took his place opposite him, then silently stood up and started serving. He didn't comment on Dean's clothes except "green brings out the colour in your eyes" and Dean felt very happy with himself.
The breakfast – pancakes served with Blackberry jam and Blueberry honey-and-Maple syrup, because "experimentation is the key to happiness" – was a quiet affair. Cas had no qualms tucking into his plate with gusto, but Dean couldn't stop relishing each bite and moaning his approval, and sounding like Meg fucking Ryan in the process because it really was fucking amazing. The tastes meshed perfectly as the whole thing melted on his tongue and tingled the senses he had no idea existed. He felt like that fat rat in Ratatouille – Dee was a bad influence – tasting his first cheese. He could see the tastes and smell the colours and all that jazz. By the time he cleaned off his plate, fighting a severe urge to lick it clean, he was left breathless… wanting more.
Shit! If Cas kept cooking for him like this, he would have to ask for his hand in marriage. Pushing that thought aside, he looked up to find the intense blue eyes and a complacent smile looking back at him, and he was thankful he was in a wheelchair or he'd be down on one knee right this second. Instead, he forced himself to return the smile and said, "That was amazing, Cas."
"Well, they do say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," Cas replied with a tilt of his head.
Dean had no idea how to respond to that, so instead he said, "We have to get going, else Bobby will tear me a new one."
Cas nodded, pushed back his chair, cleared up the plates and washed them in the sink, giving him a stinking eye in the process because "I don't do anything I don't want to", and went out to sit on the couch waiting for him to finish up. Dean, meanwhile, locked all the windows, checked then rechecked them – he knew he was being paranoid, everyone told him so, but that's how he was… deal with it – then retrieved his keys from the bowl by the door and went to his car. Cas quietly followed him, waited until Dean was perfectly settled in the driver's seat, before opening the passenger door and climbing in.
-x-x-x-
They arrived at the shop with barely 10 minutes to spare. Dean parked in his allotted space beside Andy's mobile home… a dark blue van with "Barbarella riding a Polar Bear". Cas got down and, as usual, waited until Dean was firmly on the ground before following him indoors.
As soon Dean entered he knew something was wrong. Everyone was sitting in his office, just as they did every day before opening, but Bobby was sitting behind Dean's desk, the phone askew, eyes bloodshot, hand pressed to his temple and breathing rapidly like he did when his blood pressure became too high, Andy had paled and was blinking rapidly, looking very guilty and, if Dean didn't know better, sober, and Max was on the verge of tears. Dean took in the scene before him, before silently wheeling himself to his desk, taking out the prescription bottle from the false bottom of the second drawer, and handing a pill to Bobby. He waited until Bobby had gulped it down, mentally reminding himself to change the hiding place, before asking the obvious question, "what's wrong?"
"We're overbooked," Bobby replied wearily. "Apparently someone," he glared pointedly at Andy, trying to burn holes through his skull, "can't keep their friggin' trap shut. The phone's been ringing off the hook. The entire town has cropped up car trouble overnight. We have," he consulted the roster before him "10 tire bursts, 8 overheated radiators, 1 broken axle, 5 oil changes, 4 dented fenders, 3 minor paint jobs… Oh, and Mrs. Cage managed to crash her car. Again. Her front needs the works." Andy chuckled at the childish joke and Bobby shot him a look. He went back to examining his shoes. "And this is just 'urgent'. You want me go on?"
Dean shook his head. The people never ceased to surprise him. Just when he thought they couldn't get any crazier… he turned to look at Cas who was gaping at them. "Earth to Castiel," he called. Castiel snapped up and looked at him. "Can you handle the tires?" he asked. Cas nodded in affirmative. "Good," Dean replied.
Cas looked in wonder as Dean took charge of the situation, transforming from the blushing, moaning guy of the morning into a seasoned warrior, leading his men into straight into the battle. He could swear Dean had grown an inch or two in the last two minutes – back straight, arms steady, determined look on his face, crisp no-nonsense attitude – as he issued orders to the eager ears, everyone trusting him to lead them on the right path.
"Andy, you go do your thing. And stay away from the varnish. If I find you high or passed out again, I swear to God I'm gonna graffiti on your Barbie," Andy looked horrified but nodded in understanding. "Max… Max! Pull yourself together. You're handling the oil changes and radiators. And Bobby," he turned to his boss, "Call Jo. Tell her I need her here. Pronto. And then go upstairs, shut the door and put on Beethovan, or Mozart or whatever it is you like to hear, on full volume and go to sleep. If I find you lurking around in the garage before closing time, I shoot you in the leg. Capish?" Bobby slumped further in his chair, but nodded in understanding. "Good. I'll handle Mrs. Cage myself," Dean continued resolutely. "This is the last time she's screwing around with my men," with that he turned and wheeled himself outside. He looked over his shoulder to see everyone still standing, looking at each other. "Well? What are you waiting for?" he snapped. "Gold embossed Invitations? MOVE IT PEOPLE," he clapped his hands, raising his voice as he barked his final order. "WE HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY."
Suddenly the garage erupted in activity. Bobby picked up the receiver and dialled. Andy disappeared inside. Max still shaking, but with a determined look on his face, walked past Dean to the working area. Cas followed after him, but was stopped by a firm hand on his wrist. He looked down at Dean, who sighed, then with one hand still holding Cas singlehandedly steered them both into Max's corner behind Bobby's truck. Cas looked at him questioningly.
"Look," Dean said quietly. "Everyone who's gonna walk in through these doors today has only one mission in mind. You. So be careful," Cas had no idea what was going on, but he nodded. "If anyone presses for anything… from details of the rescue to your current address or anything… just say you're with me. They don't need to know anything else. And if anyone bothers you too much, just call me, alright?"
"But I don't understand," Cas finally spoke up after all the morning madness. "I met a few people around town yesterday. Pretty much everyone was cool with me."
"That's coz they thought you were just passing through. Y'see… they thought you'd be gone in a day or two, so they really didn't give it much thought, but now that you're staying…" he fell into silence. "Let's just say, the people mean well… but they can get a little… uh… intense, if you know what I mean. And if it gets too uncomfortable, you can go home. I'll handle the work load today."
"That's alright, Major," Cas replied cheekily. "I fought in the war. I sure can handle a few crazy people."
Dean grinned. "You are so gonna eat your words, Novak."
-x-x-x-
The morning started slow, with a couple of "burst tire" and "overheated radiator" college girls casually asking for his phone number. Apparently everyone had heard of Castiel, the mysterious blue-eyed stranger who had moved in with the elusive Dean Winchester. After brushing them off with "I'm sorry. I don't have one", wherein one of them actually offered to buy him the new Iphone that was hot on the market, he was hounded by a couple of middle-aged housewives who "just wanted to talk" and could have put the greatest of interrogators and gossip mag reporters to shame.
Thankfully Jo appointed herself as his PR agent, fielding off any the unnecessary gossip mongers, when she wasn't trapped under one of the cars, and offering helpful titbits about who was hounding him at the given time. All in all Cas was pretty sure he could more or less handle his new found status as a celebrity.
Then came a strange old man in a black fedora, looking like a villain out of a 40s movie, who kept asking about his time in the army and the missions he'd worked on. "I'm sorry, sir. That information is classified, and frankly… above your pay-grade," Cas replied curtly.
"Don't use that tone with me, boy. I fought in the Vietnam when you were suckin' on your mama's tits," the man growled.
"Then I'm sure you're aware why I can't tell you anything, Sir," Cas retorted and the man walked away grumbling.
"That's Mr. Ness," Jo commented from under the Blue Dodge. "Mr. Elliot Ness," she added with a devilish smile, pulling herself out.
Cas gaped, "For real?" Jo smirked and ducked under the hood.
It only went downhill after that – Mothers who wanted to set him up with their daughters, bored housewives looking to have some fun, one very shy college boy who more or less stood there gaping at him until Jo poked him in the ribs and told him to move it, one very slutty high school cheerleader who couldn't stop cupping his ass until Jo threatened to call her mother and rat her out, and a few of her friends… the list went on and on.
As if that wasn't enough, a few more – both male and female - wanted to know what living with Dean Winchester was like. "We call them 'Dean boys and girls'," Jo commented helpfully. "They have only one mission in life, bed Dean Winchester." Cas tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow. "Y'see, Dean's out at the bar most nights and flirts with anything with a pulse. My pet cat has a crush on him. But he never takes anyone home. And you my dear," she said eyeing him head to toe, "are the special cookie he did. They just want to know what you have that they don't."
"What about you?" Cas asked. "Dean said something about…"
"My crush on him?" Cas nodded. "Well… He's always been my hero… more like a big brother I never wanted. But I guess Dean more or less made his choice when he started dating Carmen."
"Carmen? You mean Ash's wife?" Cas inquired.
"Yup. The very same. They had been together on-and-off since college. Golden couple… destined to be together… yada yada," she waved a hand dismissively. "Believe it or not, even when he was gone away on missions, she was faithful to him."
"So what happened?" Cas' curiosity got better of him.
"The news came that his team was captured. We thought he was gone forever, you know. Carmen was devastated. I guess Ash always had a thing for her, but never acted on it because she was so in love with Dean. But when she turned to him as a friend… and the rest as they say is history," she finished.
"Dean must've been devastated," Cas turned to look at the man who was hammering at the bonnet like no tomorrow.
"He was… at first," Jo accepted. "But I think he was also a bit relieved. Happy that she had found someone who really loved her… gave her the stability he never could." Cas looked at Dean again, working with fierce concentration, and went back to his car.
By lunch time, Cas had officially decided to throw in the towel. He had been groped, pinched, manhandled and hit upon more times in a day than he had in his entire life. And that was saying a lot.
He took a brown bag Jo handed out and joined her and Andy on the wooden bench outside, squeezing between both of them. Max was nowhere to be seen and Dean had chosen to eat at his work desk, beside a Silver Prius with squashed front, keeping an eye on the old lady, who looked more like she was attending a high class charity bash than visiting a garage, sitting in the plush office chair Cas dragged out for her, shooting daggers at them. Jo had towed in the car when she came in, along with its too smug owner, "because she says she doesn't trust her precious car with strangers, but it's just a pretense to ogle at your lily-white ass".
"Dean's not joining us?" he asked as Dean stuffed the last of his burger into his mouth, stretched himself as far he could and went back to work, still keeping one eye on the lady.
"Nah, man… Rusty's just lookin' out for us, y'know," Andy replied.
"Rusty?" Cas asked… the day was getting more and more interesting.
"Rusty as in Brad Pitt… from Ocean's Eleven," Jo explained. "Y'see Bobby owns the garage, but Dean's the one who runs the show. He's our very own Rusty. You got any problem, any time of the day, you go to him."
Cas nodded. "So your… uh... Rusty," the name felt strange on his tongue, "he likes crime capers, huh?"
"Anything that even smells like con and backhandedness, really," Jo replied. "And horror… Godfather's his favourite. Hates ghost movies though. Or anything with too much gore. Oh… and," she bent her head really really close to Cas' and whispered in his ear, "Titanic. The dude cries every time." Cas looked at her in surprise. She straightened. "But you didn't hear it from me."
Cas nodded, trying to hide the smile at the thought of Dean crying as Kate Winslet let go of Dicaprio's hand. "So… what did you mean by looking out for you?" he asked finally dragging the conversation back to its original topic.
"Well… let's just say the old lady is the female version of Jerry Sanduski. She has at least 10 sexual harassment cases against her, 3 from Bobby's previous employees."
But what about…" Cas asked, horrified at the thought of that cougar pawing at Dean.
"Cap?" Cas nodded. "Ever since he got back, she's more or less kept her distance from him. He can get a bit… explosive," Jo replied. Andy nodded in agreement, "As long as you are on his good side, you're safe. Hell hath no fury like Dean Winchester pissed."
After lunch, Cas met a few more prospective dates and 'Dean fans'. And then came her. Mrs. Lilith Saunders, the owner of cherry red Camaro Convertible Andy had painted yesterday. Cas had always prided himself a bit of a pacifist… but there was something about this woman that made him want to commit hara-kiri on her.
"Call me Lily," she said extending her bony well-manicured hand towards him. Looking to Jo for assistance, who was nowhere to be seen, he reluctantly accepted it, and was promptly awarded with a blood red fingernail scratching on it. He shuddered involuntarily and pulled his hand away. "So… Castiel," she said rolling her tongue around the "-el" part, "my husband's out of town till Monday. Come over tonight."
Cas gaped. He had had lots of housewives hit on him, but more often than not they skirted around the issue, dropping hints... expecting him to flirt back. No married woman had ever come on to him so directly. He decided to return the favour. "I have plans," he replied.
"You mean with the cripple?" She asked looking distastefully at the lone figure huddled over his work desk. Mrs. Cage had left sometime after lunch, hitching a ride with some guy named Colton because she was bored of watching Dean beat out the dents with no "hot-buns" in sight.
Castiel felt his blood boil. She had no right to call Dean a cripple. "Yes," he gritted through his teeth.
"Ditch him," she asserted, scratching a finger along his arm. "I'll show what you're missing out on."
'Are you fucking kidding me?' he thought as he gruffly yanked her hand away. "I don't think you have anything I'd miss out on," he threw back.
"Oh… you are one of those," she said rolling her eyes, dragging 'those' as if she was talking about a leper or something equally revolting. "Well… your loss. If you want to waste your time with that cripple…" Cas wanted to strangle her, but managed to restrain himself, "'sides, I've heard he can't even get it up anymore."
"I'll have you know…," a voice quipped behind Cas. He turned to see Dean behind him, a fake cocky grin plastered on his face. "I have a very healthy, voracious sex drive. Or did you forget that time in Illinois?"
"Dean…" Lilith turned her sickeningly sweet smile on him, "I just was telling your boyfriend herehow lucky he is," she glided towards Dean as he extended the bill to her, running a red finger nail along his arm, before plucking it off fingers.
Then she leaned forward, her face barely an inch from his, and huskily whispered, "I'll send the check by mail." Dean cringed inwardly. Her eyes reminded him of Alistair. Lilith straightened, making a show of adjusting her bra, in his face – Dean's eyes sought Cas' and held – then added, "Give my love to Sam" before gliding to her car which Jo had brought around.
-x-x-x-
"Hey Castiel," Jo called. Cas turned around to find Jo grinning at him. He grinned back.
With last of their customers gone, Dean had gone back in to lock up and inform Bobby they were leaving. Max had left with Andy and he was waiting for Dean to finish locking up so they could go back home. He was very tired and he suspected Dean had pulled a muscle or two from the way he winced while wheeling around and massaged his left neck and shoulder every ten seconds.
"So Cas…" Jo asked hesitantly "do you have any plans for tonight?"
Cas smiled. Apparently the poor kid had missed the memo. He leaned forward, beckoning her closer, then cupped a hand to his mouth and lowered his voice, as if letting her in on a secret, and said, "I'm gay. And only Dean's allowed to call me Cas." Jo's eyes widened in question but before she could say something, he straightened, returned his voice to its normal level and answered, "No, I don't think I have any plans for tonight," just as Dean wheeled himself towards them.
"What are you two talking about?" Dean asked innocently, smiling first at Cas then turning to bestow the same smile to Jo. Jo made fake gagging noises, but Dean ignored her.
"Are you coming over?" Jo asked. Dean looked at Cas questioningly and he shrugged. More gagging noises followed. "What?" Dean asked irritatedly. "Nothing," Jo snapped.
Dean sighed. "Well, I could use a drink," he said more to himself than anyone else. "Where's Baby?" he asked Jo.
"Back at the Roadhouse. You gonna introduce her to Cas?"
Dean looked at Cas, who had his trademark "lost-puppy" face on. He grinned, "Yeah… I think I will. Why don't you go on ahead? Me and Cas – Jo sniffed – will follow in our car. That alright, Cas?"
"Yeah," Cas repeated. He had no idea who Baby was, but apparently she was very important to Dean and Cas was determined to like her.
Ten minutes later, he was standing in the well-light Roadhouse warehouse shaking hands with, or rather roaming his hands over, a large black muscle car with silver reams. Jo had unlocked the door then conspicuously disappeared. Now he and Dean were completely alone with Dean's baby.
"'67 Chevy Impala," Dean gushed proudly. "Heavy-duty suspension. 385 Brake horsepower. 427 cubic-inch V8 Turbo-jet engine. Isn't she a beauty?"
Cas hummed in agreement. He wasn't a car person, but Nicky had been and he had loved that beat-up old Charger of his as much as he loved his baby brother and Meg. And if Dean was anything like Nick, which Cas suspected he was, then this was a test of the "Meet the Family" variety. After all he had already met the "in-laws" and "extended family" so obviously the last hurdle would be "the baby", and he was determined to not screw it up.
So he caressed the roof quietly taking in as much as he could. The car was in a pristine condition… well loved, well maintained. Dean said Jo was looking after her for him, making sure she stayed fit and running, and Cas decided he loved Jo. He glanced inside. The interior was adorned with whitish leather, a rare choice and… wait! Was that a cassette player? Huh! "She's lovely," he finally answered and meant every word. "I wish we could take her for a ride," he added softly. Dean looked at him in surprise. "A wild beauty like her shouldn't be locked up," he continued running his hands over the gleaming black trunk. "She should be allowed to fly free… untethered. She's made to run with the wind. I bet she could take on the Devil himself if you gave her the chance."
"Cas?" Dean said a bit louder, and Cas realised his mistake.
"Sorry," he guiltily. "I must've zoned out. I didn't mean it. Let's just go in…" he turned in direction of the exit, mentally chastising himself for his stupidity. He was determined to not make a big deal of the wheelchair thing. Dean wasn't an invalid and did not need to be treated as such. He was just like anything other guy he'd courted, and that's how Cas was determined to treat him. But sometimes he wasn't. And this… this… what he'd done… that was downright insensitive. He'd just managed to bitch-slap and sucker-punch Dean at the same time. And he'd totally screwed everything up. He set his jaw straight, eyes ahead and started walking when a hand shot out and pulled him back.
"Wait. Did you really mean what you said?" Dean asked.
He looked at Dean's face about to deny every word, but Dean didn't look hurt, he looked… hopeful. Like he wanted this. Cas smiled. "Every word," he swore. "I would really love to take you both for a drive. Should I ask Jo for the keys?"
Dean beamed up at him. "No need," he said pulling out his key-bunch from the pocket and handing them to Cas. "You really thought I had only one set of keys?" Cas chuckled, shaking his head, and unlocked the passenger door first, before walking over to the other side to open his door. Dean climbed in, then twisted around folding his wheelchair. "Hey Cas?" he called out softly. "Mind helping with the chair-car here?"
Cas looked up from his door to see Dean struggling to pull the whole thing in his lap. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked incredulously.
"Well… I called out for you, but you looked busy, so I thought I'll just pull it in, then dump it in the backseat. Jo usually does that."
"Leave it," Cas replied.
"What?"
"Leave it. We don't need it. Just trust me on this, okay?"
Dean exhaled as he came to a conclusion and let it go. The folded wheelchair fell on the ground with a thud, as Dean looked straight ahead and locked his door. Cas slipped in beside him and locked his.
Cas started the car. The engine gave a grunt and wheeze, then stuttered to a halt. He counted backwards from 10 then tried again, with the same results. He looked at Dean who looked like someone had kicked his puppy. Evidently Major was not used to his baby sputtering and dying. "It's okay, Dean," Cas consoled, remembering the lesson Nick had taught him a long back. "Sometimes if a car hasn't been in the running too long…" he stopped because Dean was glaring at him. Of course Dean knew that. He was a bloody mechanic. What was wrong with him? "Well, third time's a charm," he said turning the key once again. No dice! The stupid car determined to cock-block him.
But Cas wasn't about let a golden opportunity slip away. "Look," he told the car. Of course, he wasn't talking loudly, because normal humans did not commute with inanimate objects. "I really like him. I mean really. He's kind and generous and possibly the bravest person I've ever met. And you are important to him. And you liking me is a very important step in this relationship. So please… please… please… give me a chance. Please. I swear I'm nice guy. And I promise I'll be good to him." He looked at Dean, who was looking at him with rapt fascination as if he was reading his thoughts, shrugged and turned the key once more. Mercifully, the car started and kept running. "Thanks, baby," he told the car. "I owe you." He felt the car purr under him and took it as an affirmation.
He turned to Dean. "Okay Major, where do you want to go?"
-x-x-x-
Like their last two car rides, this one too was filled only with sounds from the radio and an occasional direction from Dean, but unlike the last two times, the silence was not comfortable. Both were itching to say something… to do something about the obvious tension that had only magnified since they first laid eyes on each other only two days ago.
Dean directed him the down the main road, then out the town limits towards the highway. Cas put the car in 5th and relaxed. The car knew what she was doing and melted beneath his touch. It didn't just run on the wind, it flew. "Listen to my baby purr…" Dean gushed beside him. Cas hummed in approval. Yup! He could get used to this. Dean, him and the Impala with nothing but road and winds for company. He wondered what Dean thought about road trips. Finally Dean asked him to turn into a small neglected grassy pathway that led off the road and go to the very end. Cas followed until the road ended in what looked like a tiny neglected pond and shut off the engine.
The pond was completely hidden among the tall trees and had no other roads leading to it. The apart from the wild animals, they were probably the only two living beings in at least 10 mile radius. The skies were clear and the moon was shining brightly. The water reflected the moonlight and appeared sparkly silver. A perfect contrast against the otherwise black of the night.
Dean reached under his seat and pulled the lever, pushing the seat back with his shoulders. The springs groaned, but the backrest gave away to the pressure. Not many people knew the Impala had reclining seats. It was like an Easter Egg feature. The only reason he knew was because he had chanced upon it while looking for a dropped condom. He leaned back till he was comfortable, released the lever and closed his eyes, breathing in the crisp night air and sounds of the insects and small animals. He had usually come here when the home life got a bit too overwhelming. Dad and Sam could never see eye to eye and he'd have to be the buffer between them. Most of the times they got along fine, but sometimes… he just couldn't. And no one knew about this place. No one but him… and Castiel.
"What is this place?" The object of his thoughts spoke up.
Dean turned in direction of the voice and stifled a gasp. Cas was lying beside him, his face titled towards Dean. The silver moonbeams shining through the windshield landed directly on the pale skin giving it a slightly ethereal otherworldly glow. They reflected in the bright blue orbs making them sparkle with the wisdom of the ages and flames of desire. It was beautiful… mesmerizing… Angelic!
Angel, Dean thought. An Angel, so close… and his for taking. All he had do to was reach out and take it. But he couldn't. The angel deserved better, much better, not a hollow shell of man like him. He swallowed dryly, turned his head to look at the roof of his car and answered, "It was my hiding place when I was younger. Only I know about this place. And now you."
"Does this mean I'm special?" Cas asked softly. Dean looked at his companion again, the angelic eyes staring back into his soul, the chapped reddish lips looking gorgeously pale pink and soft and kissable… and damn if he didn't just want to tear into them right now. He looked away again and shifted uncomfortably, his pants suddenly feeling tight. He took a few deep breaths to calm his heart rate and felt pressure ease off his pants.
He looked at his companion again. "Maybe," he finally replied. "So… what did you tell her?" he asked the question had been on his mind since they left the civilization behind.
"Who?"
"The car. Back at the warehouse, when she wouldn't start. You talked to her… you told her something."
"What? No! That's… that's preposterous. People don't talk to cars," Cas replied sceptically. Even in the pale moonlight Dean could see a faint blush creeping up his neck.
"Not everyone, but some do," Dean replied. "I mean… I talk to my car. Growing up I felt like she was my only real friend, y'know. The only one who could understand me and wouldn't judge me or anything. Sometimes I would come here, just her and me, and we would spend hours just sitting and um…umf-"
He was cut short because Cas had had enough and crushed their lips together. First it was just that, just their lips pressed together trying to mash into each other until Dean made a "urgh…mph" sound and opened his mouth, as his hand cupped Cas' head pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Tongues fought for dominance as both delved into each other's mouths with gusto, whimpering and moaning, hands pawing all over, finding purchase in each other's bodies, until the only reason Cas wasn't on top of Dean grinding him to High Heaven, was because his legs were trapped under the fucking steering wheel. When they finally separated for air, both sporting equally raging boners, they were panting like marathon runners.
"What was that?" Dean broke the silence when his breath settled and brain finally shifted into focus.
"A kiss," Cas stated sitting up. He looked down at the man beside him with a cheeky smile. God, how he wanted to go for a round two.
Dean reached under the seat, pulled the lever and released it. The seat sprung forward with such force that he had to brace himself on the dashboard. A sharp pain shot through his left shoulder, but he ignored it in lieu of shooting Cas with "What do you think I am? Stupid?" bitchface that would've given Sam a run for his money. "I mean… Why did you kiss me?" he asked turning to face the culprit.
"Isn't it obvious?" Cas asked. "I like you Dean. I really do. You wanted to know what I told your car?" Dean nodded, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer. "I told her if she gave me a chance, I'd be good for you. I am asking you for the same thing."
"Cas," Dean shook his head and replied. "I like you too. A lot. But let's face it. I'm not exactly boyfriend material. I've got a roving eye… and it never stays on one person for long. I'm just not the right guy for you."
"Well... you never know," Cas replied. "People always change." For a 30 year old former Marine, he really made a decent 14 year old girl justifying her crush on the high school bad-boy.
"You wouldn't be the first who thought that," Dean replied, his voice dipping a notch. "I had someone, y'know. Thought she could change me if she persisted. Finally realised that the love of her life wasn't me. I've never seen her happier than when she's with him."
"You mean Carmen?" Cas asked.
"Oh… so Jo told all what a great slut Dean Winchester is," Dean retorted.
"No… but she did tell me what an awesome guy you are," Cas answered.
"That's because the kid's been in love with me since she was 15," Dean smiled sadly. "But I wouldn't listen to her. I'm not a nice guy, Cas. I am an asshole. I flirt with entire town…"
"But you never take them home," Cas interjected.
"What?"
Cas huffed a smile. "You flirt with the entire the town but you never take anyone home. How long has it been since you got laid, Major?"
Dean flinched. "That's none of your business," he snapped.
"Maybe not, but as you said I'm your friend. And as far as I know it's a friend's job to make sure a friend's alright. And you, my Major, are not alright."
"And you think I'll be alright if I'm with you?" Dean asked sceptically.
"Could be. Who knows…" Cas shrugged. "You'll never know until you give it a chance, right?"
"You're just wasting your time, Novak," Dean snapped.
"Then it's my time to waste," Cas snapped back. "Nicky always said I was too impulsive. Unlike you, Major, I always rush in first… And who knows maybe you'll realise that you like me back."
"It's never gonna happen," Dean stated, a bit unsurely.
Cas smiled. It was already happening. "Doesn't matter, I'll keep trying anyway. And you of all people should know I never give up. So do your best, Major. Coz you're about to be courted by the most persistent man you've ever known," he stated conspiratorially, turning on the engine and backing out.
"Fine! But don't expect me to break down easily." Dean reached forward to turn on the radio, and switched to the late night Rock Station, before closing his eyes and basking in the familiar rhythm of drums and guitars. He sat up with a start when he realised what was playing, cursing his fate as he listened to the Axl Rose singing "November Rain".
"…So if you want to love me, then darlin' don't refrain… Or I'll just end up walkin', In the cold November rain…"
Oh, you gotta be shitting me! Then Cas joined in, "I know it's hard to keep an open heart, when even friends seem out to harm you… But if you could heal a broken heart… Wouldn't time be out to charm you…"
Dean smiled to himself as he settled back in his seat. There really was going to be no escape from this determined blue-eyed warrior. This guy would definitely find a way into his heart. One day, maybe. But not today. And who knew maybe Cas would give up before he wore down. He relaxed and let Cas' soothing voice rock him to sleep.
"And when your fears subside, and shadows still remain… I know that you can love me, when there's no one left to blame…
So never mind the darkness, we still can find a way… 'Cause nothin' lasts forever… Even cold November rain…"
-x-x-x-
Cas looked at his companion, eyes closed, slightly twisted away from him, sleeping peacefully for the time being and thought about what had been Dean saying. Even though he hadn't said anything, he knew that Dean was scared of people getting tired of him and walking away. But Dean would never admit it out loud and if he had his way, he would never have to.
He would make Dean Winchester fall in with love him. He just had to. He had felt more at home in the last two days than he had ever felt in his entire life, and he wasn't just gonna let it get away from him.
Nicky had always said a true warrior never lost hope… he kept fighting even when everything was against him… a true warrior never quit. And James Castiel Novak, brother of Nicholas Delaware Novak, was no quitter.
-x-x-x-
When they reached the house, the garage door was open and Dean's white van was already parked inside. Jo was sitting on the unfolded wheelchair, silently rolling back and forth, with a large brown bag on her lap.
Cas stopped in the driveway, killed the engine. He glanced at his passenger – looking like a cherub, in a blissful, possibly dreamless sleep, his features relaxed and all the tension seeped away – got down and walked over to the girl.
"Hey, Cas!" The girl greeted "Mind if I call you 'Cas'? Castiel sounds a bit handful."
Cas laughed. "Welcome aboard. Though I think with Dean renaming me 'Cas', it was gonna catch up sooner or later," he replied keeping his voice low so as to not awake the sleeping cherub. "Thanks for bringing it over," he added pointing to the wheelchair.
Jo waved a hand dismissively. "Dean's family. And just coz you're here, don't mean I am giving up anytime soon." Cas laughed. "'Sides," Jo continued, "Mom sent over your dinner," handing him the brown bag.
"Does Ellen always send food over?" Cas asked suddenly curious.
"Most of the time. Dean loves to eat, but can't cook. Or rather hates it… like "I'd rather set myself on fire than set foot in the kitchen" kind of hates it. What can you do?" she asked rubbing her hands on the arms of the coat. "It's cold out here."
Cas nodded, belatedly noticing the chill in the air. The car had been warm and toasty. He extended the keys to her and told her to get inside, then walked purposefully back to the car. He saw Jo pushing the wheelchair behind him. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Aren't you gonna wake him up?" she asked confused. Cas shook his head. "Then how will you get him inside?" Cas silenced her with a finger on his lips and motioned her to go inside. Jo hovered around unsurely and he chose to ignore her.
He reached forward and pulled the passenger door open, catching Dean just in time to prevent him from toppling over. Dean grunted in his sleep but made no move to wake up. He threw Dean's right hand across his shoulder, then easily plucked him off the seat, bridal style, and stepped back, kicking the door shut in the process. The door connected with Dean's left hand and a shudder passed through him. Cas cradled him closer then effortlessly carried him inside the house, directly to his bedroom and gently placed him on his bed, still ignoring the gaping Jo who had carried the wheelchair in and placed it just within an arm's reach.
His hands moved deftly as he began unbuttoning the shirt he had so carefully picked out in the morning. He was pushing the shirt off the shoulders when Jo cleared her throat, mumbled something about making coffee and went outside, leaving them alone. As soon as the room cleared, Dean opened his eyes and his hand shot up to grasp Cas' wrist. Cas met his gaze but made no move to remove his hands.
"You're just not gonna back off, are you?" Dean asked, his voice serious but his eyes smiling.
"Oh, I'll break you, sir," Cas simply stated.
Dean grinned. "Exley or Wendell?" he asked.
"White," Cas replied. "I have this thing for righteous hot-heads with hearts of gold. But I'm guessing Exley's more of your type."
"Never could resist the arrogant golden boys," Dean nodded in agreement. "Mind getting rid of Jo while I finish undressing?" Cas grinned and purposefully strode out of the room. 5 minutes later, he heard the front door slam and Impala's familiar purr as the car pulled out of the driveway and started down the street.
Dean cringed as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. Mrs. Cage and her fucking cougarness. He gingerly pulled the shirt off and surveyed the damaged. The shoulder felt taut under his fingers and he could see a faint purplish bruise beginning to form. He decided to pull the t-shirt back on to prevent Cas from seeing it, but before he could accomplish the task, Cas appeared with what looked suspiciously like a pack of frozen peas and a large wrapping bandage, pushed his hands away and wrapped the peas around his shoulder, locking it in place. The pain eased instantly. "There's pain-killers in that drawer," he directed and Cas handed him a couple of pills. Dean popped them before turning to unbutton his pants. Cas looked away as he struggled to singlehandedly remove the jeans, but muttered an exasperated sigh before turning back and pulling them right off. Then he left Dean alone and went to reheat the dinner.
Dean winced as he moved from his bed to the wheelchair – times like these, he really missed his legs –and mentally thanking Cas for his lack of boundary issues, wheeled himself into the bathroom. He emerged half an hour later, wearing only his boxers. Pulling on his underwear had been too much of a chore and he was in no mood to strain his shoulder further. Besides it wasn't like Cas was going to complain about his lack of clothing.
Like the morning, he found Cas waiting for him at dining table - eyes closed, hands folded under his chin in a prayer. He stood up when Dean, this time as quietly as he could, entered the room and started serving. The entire dinner – lasagne with lots of extra cheese, carrots, fried mushrooms and onions on the side and beer, only for Cas, "because pain-killers and alcohol don't go together. I'll stab you if you argue about it" and Ellen's Cherry Cream-cheese Pie, "Dude, the angels would totally fall for this" – was passed minutely dissecting each and every scene of L. A. Confidential.
And Dean realised how much he'd missed this... just being in the same room with someone, talking about bullshit, not caring about running off once the sex was over, lounging around watching TV. He'd had that with Carmen, but he wasn't ready to settle down then and he could see the way Ash looked at her… like she was Venus incarnate. He was really glad they'd found each other. He wondered if he could have the same thing with Cas. With his luck, maybe not… but he could always enjoy the ride.
After dinner, Cas cleared away the dishes, letting Dean pack away the left-overs. When Dean wondered why Cas didn't mother him like everyone else, Cas set him straight, "I'm not going to adopt you. I am going to date you. You are a grown-up man and you can do your own shit." Dean smiled and set to work.
After everything was cleared away, locked up and in general set for the night, Cas leaned down kissed his temple, bid him good night and proceeded towards his own room.
"Wait," Dean called out behind him. "Aren't you gonna tuck me in?" That was seriously cheesy, even by chick flick and Dr. Sexy standards.
Cas walked over to him, leaned down till their eyes were level and holding onto the wheels so he was locked in place, gave him the cheesiest smile he could muster and very huskily replied, "Not till you say 'yes'."
"But what if I have a nightmare?" Dean pouted. He mentally grimaced as the words escaped his mouth. Now he had officially crossed the line from cheesy to corny. He waited for Cas to tease him about it, but Cas turned thoughtful… as if that was one thing he did not want to joke about.
"Then I'll be in the next room." He leaned in closer and added, "I may even sing for you."
Dean gulped. The bastard knew what his voice did to him. Then Cas pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, but separated when Dean leaned into it, pressed another kiss to his temple and walked towards his room without a backward glance.
That night Alistair did not pay him a visit. But a certain blue-eyed angel did.