Dean wakes up that morning with a not so small problem. He closes his eyes and rubs a palm down his face, knowing exactly what, or rather who, caused it. He sighs and stumbles to the showers, determined to deal with it in the most normal place he can think of. Maybe it'll make what he's about to do less weird.
Dean strips off his boxers and climbs into the shower. After making sure the temperature is exactly right, he steps in and enjoys the feel of the water running down his back. He lathers up his hands with the soap and runs them up his arms, down his chest, lower. He grasps his aching member in his slick hand and starts pumping. He twists his hand slightly and flicks his thumb over the slit, a small moan forcing its way out between his lips. He closes his eyes and props himself against the side of the shower with the hand not currently wrapped around his cock. In his mind's eye he imagines a warm pink mouth where his hand is, a set of bright blue eyes staring up at him. His hand clenches on the wall and he imagines it tightening in short dark brown strands of hair. He comes with a barely concealed moan and shakes as he comes down from the resulting high.
Dean stands underneath the spray for a little while longer, washing away the dirty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He takes several deep breaths, shame, guilt, and embarrassment making their homes in his gut. He steps out of the shower and towels himself off, wrapping the now-damp towel around his waist. He steps out of the bathroom and reenters his bedroom, opening his drawers and pulling out a fresh set of clothes. He tries to keep thoughts of what he just did to a minimum, but some of the more depressing ones sneak through his barriers.
How could you do that? He's your best friend. An ex-Angel. You shouldn't be having these thoughts about Cas, shouldn't be imaging him doing things like that to you, no matter what drunk Cas said last night.
Dean knows he's bisexual, has for a long time. He doesn't advertise it, but Sam knows and he's fine with it. As long as Dean's happy, that's what he said when he found Dean making out with Jim Harrison when they were in high school. He never told his dad, never found a way to do it. He was afraid of what the ex-marine would think of him, and sometimes, on days that he's feeling particularly masochistic, he thinks about what his father would have done if he had found out. It never ends well in his mind.
"Dean?" Sam's voice, accompanied by a knock, sounds outside his door and Dean snaps his head up.
"Uh, yeah?" He calls back, cringing at the slight squeak to his voice.
"Just wanted to know if you were planning on coming out anytime soon." Sam tells him. Dean stands and opens the door, looking up at his brother's face with a smirk.
"Sammy, I thought we covered this already? I'm out, and proud." Dean quips, pushing past his brother and his bitchface. He enters the kitchen and sees Cas sitting at the small breakfast table in there, an empty cereal bowl in front of him, seemingly lost in thought. He forces down a blush and clears his throat awkwardly. Cas turns around and his blue eyes widen when they see him.
Don't think about the shower. Don't think about the shower. Don't think about the- Fuck!
"Dean?" Cas's deep voice calls his name and Dean refocuses, registering the concerned look on Cas's face.
"Sorry, what?" Dean asks, wondering if Cas had been asking him something.
"Are you okay? You seem distracted." Cas comments with a frown.
So that's how he want to play it? Not going to mention what he said last night? Fine, I can play that game.
"No, no. I'm fine. Tired I guess." He answers nonchalantly. "Didn't get much sleep last night."
"Oh. May I ask why?" Cas requests with a tilt of his head. Dean shrugs, because he can play it cool, he's cooler than cool, he's ice cold. Alright? Alright.
"Just something you said last night." Is that a blush? That's a blush. Cas is blushing.
He looks cute when he blushes. Wait, no! No he doesn't, shut up. He's your friend, you don't call your friends cute when they blush. Shit! Ice cold, remember?
"Um, about the spell Metatron used." Dean adds, panic making him suddenly regret saying anything.
"Oh." Cas seems to deflate, his shoulders slumping and his face crumpling with disappointment before settling into his standard blank mask. "What about it?"
"Just, the ingredients. The Nephillim heart, the Cupid's bow, and your Grace. I was just, thinking about why it had to be your Grace specifically." Dean shrugs and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. He did think about it, just, not as much as the other things Cas said. He mentally berates himself for even leaving his room. He knew that was a bad idea. He looks up again and immediately takes back every bad thing he's ever said about leaving his room, because Cas is blushing again and avoiding his gaze. "Cas?"
"It's nothing Dean. He probably used me because I'm gullible and far to trusting." Cas says defensively. Dean raises an eyebrow and shrugs.
"Whatever Cas." He stands and goes over to the cabinet to get himself a bowl of cereal. Someone (Sammy) thought it would be a smart idea to move the good cereal to the top shelf, causing Dean to stretch up to reach it. He can feel someone's eyes on his ass, and considering the only other person in the room, well, he'll let you figure out who's (extremely blue) eyes are on his finely sculpted rear. He smirks as he pours his bowl and turns to get the milk out of the fridge.
"Oh, and Cas?" Dean asks nonchalantly as he pours his milk. "I will if you want." Dean turns around and fixes the ex-angel (full angel, he'll always be an angel) with a knowing look. Cas's eyes fill with confusion for a second before they're flooded with hope. A small smile creeps onto his face.
"I would like that. Though, I believe that it is something best done at night." Cas answers him. Dean lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, a weight lifting from his shoulders.
"Yeah. Maybe in the mean time I could start teaching you about how to be human." Dean offers. Cas smiles and nods, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
Good to know he hasn't lost that.
"Uh-hm." Sam clears his throat and Dean looks over to where the moose is standing in the doorway. "You done? Some of us would like to use the kitchen without being subjected to your weird mating rituals." Sam finishes with his patented bitchface. Dean picks up his bowl and flips him off as he leaves the kitchen, Cas following after he deposits his dish in the sink. They both settle down in the library, Dean eating his breakfast and Cas reading one of the various books scattered around them.
He's so adorable…
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… Wait, shit!