Title: The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High
Author: rons_pigwidgeon
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Masturbation, Underage Drinking, Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Sex Toys, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Sex in the Impala, Bathroom Sex, Hand Jobs, light dom/sub play, Homophobic Language, Homophobia, Homophobic language (way to be a dick, John)
Chapter Summary: Dean crosses a line no one ever thought he'd cross, and gets a weekend with Cas to show for it.
Beta: deanstrenchcoatangel
Author's Note: Trigger warning for homophobic language. Also, John Winchester's a dick.
"Sam's my height now, Cas. What the hell?"
"He hasn't finished puberty yet, Dean. Growing taller is known to happen to teenage boys. I have a cousin who grew six inches overnight. It made getting dressed the next morning awkward, I'm told."
"Yeah, but it's Sammy. How is he supposed to be my little brother if he's taller than I am? And the way he's eating, he's already working on another stretch."
"I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Dean picks at the edge of his boot and grumbles into the phone, "What if I don't want to figure it out? What if I want him to stay my little brother forever?"
"That's not how life works, and you know it." They're quiet for a minute while Dean systematically pulls every rock out of his boot and tries not to think about his little brother growing up. "I suppose this would not be the time to tell you that I myself have grown several inches, as well."
"Yeah? You're not gonna tower over me, too, are you? I sort of like it when you're all short and pushy." He smiles to himself just thinking about it.
"I believe I am still an inch or two below you, but not much more," Castiel answers, a hint of a smile in his voice.
"God, I wish I could come and see you."
"You could. You could just get in your car and drive here. It's only a few hundred miles, right? You could be here by tonight."
"I want to, believe me, but I can't. Sammy's got school, and I've still got a job to do."
"Sam is nearly seventeen. He can be by himself for a weekend. I'm not asking you to move here, just a weekend. I'm tired of imagining what it feels like to kiss you. I'm starting to forget."
Dean's stomach drops. God, he wishes he could, but Dad's been pissy ever since Sam brought up college last week, and Dean doesn't want to test him by bringing up a visit to Chicago. "Cas… I can't. I gotta work."
He hears a loud sigh at the other end of the phone. "I don't suppose you could get off for a few days? I'm sorry if I'm pushing, but I hate knowing you're so close, and I can't see you. I'd drive down myself, but I'm scheduled to work tomorrow morning, and I know I'll never get anyone to switch with me."
"Maybe I'll try to get up there when I'm finished with the job, but it's not really something I can just… take off from. I'm sorry, babe. I wanna see you, too. I'll talk to Sammy and Dad."
"Thank you, that's all I ask. I miss you."
"Yeah, uh, me too," Dean murmurs, watching as his dad slumps into the room with a pizza box and a stack of xeroxes Dean knows must be the from the lore book Pastor Jim faxed over. "Hey, I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay. You aren't… mad at me, are you? For being so pushy? I just miss you."
Dean scrubs at his hair, wanting to say more than he knows he can with his father giving him the impatient side-eye. He turns away, lowering his voice, praying to whatever deity will listen that the tv's too loud for John to hear. "I'm not mad. My dad just got in. I'll call you tomorrow. And I'll talk to him about that…thing."
"Thank you, Dean. Sleep well."
"You, too. Night." He hangs up with a hard press to the END button and dallies before turning around. The look he's greeted with isn't great.
"Talking to that boy again?"
"Yeah, I uh… I was thinking of maybe driving up this weekend. We're gonna be here for another week at least, right?"
"Oh, you're just gonna leave me in the middle of a hunt to go fag around, huh?"
Dean holds back his sigh. "Dad, I told you…"
"Yeah, I heard you. Don't mean I believe you. But fine, go do whatever you faggots do up there. I'll just save this family all by myself." His words came out bitter and biting and made a lump of wrongness fill Dean's stomach.
"Okay, I will. It's not like you've ever needed me on a hunt, anyway. Didn't you say last week I hold you back? I'll just get out of your way, then." Dean knows he's being stupid. He's gonna get his ass kicked, but something's snapped in his mind, and he can't take it anymore. He's done everything his dad's ever asked of him, and all he's asking for is a weekend. He starts shoving clothes into his duffel without another word, but inside, he's tearing down walls, cutting the heads off monsters, beating the hell out of anything that stands still for too long.
John watches him silently, glaring what would probably be a painful death, had he been telekinetic. Dean does everything he can to ignore it, because this is the line he has drawn in the sand, and he's not crossing into submission. Not today. There's a hole in his gut with Cas' name on it, and he can't stand to let it get any bigger. He finishes shoving the last t-shirt into the bag and is pulling the string closed with more violence than necessary when Sammy walks in from his tutor job.
Sam stiffens, sensing the tension immediately. His eyes lock with Dean's and fill with surprise when he catches sight of the duffel swung over Dean's shoulder. "Are we leaving? I thought you didn't know who the ghost was yet, Dad. I've got midterms."
"We're not going anywhere, son. Dean's taking a trip up to the Chicago to see his little boyfriend, aren't you, Dean?" Dean clenches his jaw and nods, letting the boyfriend part go. He is fighting a bigger battle than quibbles over terminology.
"Oh… uh… tell Cas I said hi," Sam says, voice trailing off lamely. He looks as uncomfortable with the situation as Dean feels.
"I'll be back Monday," is all Dean says as he brushes past his brother, giving his father a wide berth. He slams the door behind him, but it doesn't leave him as satisfied as he would have hoped.
Dean's still pissed off when he gets into the city, despite four hours of driving to cool him down. He decides to pick up a deep-dish before he gets to Cas'. He hopes the prospect of delicious pizza and a weekend with Cas will brighten his mood. The spicy smell of tomato sauce and sausage and onions makes him hate the world just a little less as he finally finds a spot two blocks down from Cas' apartment. He grabs his duffel and the pizza box and hikes it the couple blocks. It's Neil's wary voice that meets him when he buzzes.
"Pizza delivery for a Castiel," Dean says, hoping for the element of surprise.
"Cas, you order pizza? Kinda late, isn't it?" he hears Neil shout. He hears a muffled 'no' from further in the apartment, but thankfully another resident is leaving, and he's able to slip in the front door. He hears Cas arguing as he knocks on the door and has to grin at the annoyed tinge to his voice as the door opens to reveal the pinched face of his ruffled, pajamas-clad boyfriend. Cas stares at Dean for a full thirty seconds when he lays eyes on him, a look of shock on his face, before he squeaks adorably and tackles Dean against the hallway wall in a sloppy, teeth-clattering kiss. Dean only just keeps his hold on the pizza box as he wraps his arms around Cas' waist and smooths out the kiss, stroking Cas' bottom lip with his tongue until Cas moans and melts into him.
"What the hell is going on, Cas—" Neil asks, but he cuts himself off. Dean sees him out of the corner of his eye, standing dumbfounded in the doorway as he watches his roommate making out with the pizza guy. Dean finds himself laughing, most of the rest of his anger and frustration melting away as Cas strokes his hair. It isn't until they've pulled apart a few inches to look into each other's eyes once again that Dean notices that Cas hadn't been lying. He is taller, only an inch or so shorter than Dean now. Dean wonders if he'll still be able to pick Cas up and walk him around. Even if he ends up injured, he fully intends to try as soon as the opportunity presents itself.
"You came," Cas whispers, looking up at him like he's the Eighth Wonder of the World.
"Yeah. How could I resist when you made such good points? Besides, I couldn't let you forget what it feels like to kiss me, could I?"
"Of course not. It's just as good as I remembered, in case you're wondering. Come inside." He pulls away further, noticing the pizza box finally and taking it from Dean. "You brought me pizza, too? This is like Christmas all over again. Are there onions?" he asks as he leads Dean into the apartment, ignoring Neil jumping out of his way.
"Course, I'm not crazy," Dean answers as he follows, nodding at Neil as he passes him.
Cas beams at him over his shoulder. He deposits the pizza on the coffee table and takes Dean's duffel from him. "Get comfortable. I'll drop this in my room and get plates, and be back in a moment." He leans up to kiss Dean once more, pulling away with a silly grin and a gleam in his eye like he can't believe Dean is real and disappears down the hallway.
Dean is left with Neil until Cas comes back, but neither of them say anything. He might talk to Avery regularly, but he's only ever really talked to Neil once, the night they hung out when Cas was still in the dorms. Neil finally nods awkwardly and goes to hide in his room with a gruff, "Good to see you, man."
Dean is left alone until Cas comes bustling back into the room, still grinning. He still looks like he thinks Dean might disappear any second now. "Take a seat. I'll give you a tour after pizza. Or maybe in the morning. How long can you stay?" he asks.
"I told them I'd be back on Monday," Dean answers. He pulls his coat off and takes a seat on the couch, watching Cas go into the kitchen and riffle through cabinets until he has plates, napkins, silverware, and two beers. Dean feels a little less uncomfortable with Cas in the room, and it's even better when Cas sits on the couch, next to him but nearly in his lap. He helps Cas get their pizza dished out and gulps a large drink of beer before he can let himself relax.
Cas angles his body to face Dean on the couch, pulling his legs up and using them as a table for his plate. He's still grinning. "I can't believe you're here. How did you get the time off?"
"I uh…" Dean frowns down at his pizza, completely at a loss as to how to answer him. He's been caught in a lie, but it isn't one he can exactly come clean about. He might be pissed at his dad, but that doesn't mean he's pissed enough to break Rule #1, even for Cas. "I quit," is what he manages to say. It sounds lame and forced to his ears, but Cas only looks a little surprised and dismayed.
"You did?"
"Yeah, I uh… I'd only been working there a few days. Not like they were gunning to give me health insurance or anything. I'll get another one," he says, trying to brush it off.
"Dean, when I said I wanted you to come here, I didn't mean for you to sacrifice your financial stability to do it. What if you can't find another job?"
Dean snorts into his beer. "There's always another job, believe me." The stricken look on Cas' face calms his momentary annoyance with his life and brings him back to the present. He settles a hand over Cas' shoulder and pulls him in for a kiss. "It doesn't matter. I'd much rather be here, anyway."
That seems to settle Cas, who shuffles around so that he could burrow into Dean's side, careful not to jostle his plate. "I've missed you."
"Me, too, baby. Me, too." Dean brushes his lips against Cas' temple and wraps an arm around him. It's only as he starts to eat that he realizes his mistake. The crust is so dense, it's nearly impossible to cut one-handed with a fork, and picking the slice up covered in a full inch of sauce isn't really an option. Cas solves the dilemma for him by bringing a cut portion of his own slice to Dean's lips. This would normally be the part where Dean squirms away and declares the Lifetime movie shit over, but he's in a weird kind of mood tonight, and it's kind of nice to have Cas mothering him. He opens his mouth and takes the bite, rolling his eyes back with an appreciative moan at the burst of spicy deliciousness that floods his mouth. He notes the slight curl of a smile on Cas' lips and doesn't reject the second offering.
They eat their way through two slices a piece that way, and Dean is feeling full and happy by the time the fourth slice is gone. Cas leans over the coffee table to close the box and set their plates and silverware on top of it before settling back against Dean again, his head resting on Dean's chest. "That was delicious. Thank you, Dean."
"No need to thank me. Though if you really wanted to, there is something you could do to show your appreciation of my awesomeness."
"Oh?" Cas asks with a coy cock of his head.
"Mhmm," Dean hums into Cas' neck, flicking his tongue out to taste his soft skin. He smells clean and fresh and a little like apples, and Dean can't help but suck a mark onto him. Cas lets out a low whine, fingers reaching up to bury themselves deep into Dean's hair, tugging him closer. Dean pulls him back onto his lap, flush against the growing bulge in his jeans, and Cas wriggles against him, sending sparks up his spine. Cas turns his head to capture Dean's lips in a filthy kiss as he continues to rock back on Dean's clothed cock. Dean slides his hands around Cas' waist and below the front tie of his pajamas, pleased to find him commando and just beginning to leak. He caresses down Cas' shaft, enjoying the tiny shivers it evokes, letting his fingers trail further down to cup first one and then the other of Cas' balls, rolling them between his hands without much pressure. Little gasps start to escape the kiss, and Cas becomes impossibly hard, his rocking increasing in speed as Dean traces along his skin.
Cas finally grows impatient and pulls abruptly away, standing and taking Dean's hand, pulling him up without much effort. He takes Dean's mouth once more for a wet, thorough kiss, then pulls away with that Look. "Put the pizza in the refrigerator and wash the dishes, then meet me in my room. It's the second door on the left," he instructs in a voice that brooks no argument. Dean is still gathering himself from the puddle the voice has left of his senses when Cas disappears down the hall with a final scorching look over his shoulder. Dean has the pizza in the fridge and the dishes running under hot water in less than a minute. He quickly washes them and places them in the drying rack, not even waiting to make sure the second plate isn't going to topple over before he's down the hall and slipping into Cas' bedroom.
He finds Cas sprawled out atop the coverlet, naked and slowly stroking himself while his eyes follow Dean's progress to the bed. "Take your clothes off," he orders just as Dean is kneeling onto the mattress. Dean's shirt is over his head immediately. He nearly falls over in his haste to get his boots off. Cas laughs at him, delight dancing in his lust-blown eyes. Dean fumbles with his jeans, cursing as his foot gets stuck in one leg and refuses to come off. Pulling at it causes him to topple face-first into the mattress, much to Cas' amusement. He would die of embarrassment, but Cas is curled over his back, brushing kisses to his neck as he reaches over the bed to free Dean. "Smooth, Winchester, very smooth," he needles with a grin as Dean crowds him back onto his back and crawls over him.
"Shuddup," Dean mutters as he leans down to shut him up himself. Cas does, letting his hands do his talking for him. The blunt nails trailing down Dean's back feel amazing, as does the squeeze to his ass cheek. Dean drags his mouth over Cas' chin and begins south, sucking hickeys into Cas' chest and stomach until he finally reaches the coarse hair circling Cas' shaft. He noses into the short hairs, tugging a little at them with his teeth. Cas makes a soft sound above him, stroking his hair. Dean takes his time licking up the shaft, teasing, until Cas growls in frustration and yanks his hair back, glaring.
"Stop teasing," he hisses. Dean chuckles at his expression, but complies with the order, dipping his head down to suck at Cas' head. Cas hums in pleasure and loosens his hold on Dean's hair, gently guiding him down further. Dean sucks him down, letting Cas guide his movements. "You look so good sucking my cock," Cas rasps, and Dean looks up to meet his eyes with a grin around his shaft. Cas groans, twisting around so that he can reach Dean's hips and drag him around.
Dean scoots where he's being led and pulls off Cas for a second in surprise when Cas' lips wrap around the head of his own erection a moment later. "We're 69ing it now, huh? Kinky," he comments, looking down his body to watch Cas take him down as far as he can. It feels amazing, but it's even hotter to watch. A sharp smack to Dean's ass gets him focused again on making Cas cum. He palms Cas' balls, massaging them until Cas is thrusting into his mouth with muffled moans. He moves lower, stroking his perineum before brushing his thumb over Cas' hole. He dips in dry, prodding curiously. Cas makes an appreciative noise, encouraging Dean. Dean manages to get the finger in to his second knuckle, but he can't imagine it feels as good as lube would. He pulls away again, swallowing a gulp of air before speaking. "Where's the lube?"
Cas doesn't even stop sucking him as he reaches over to the bedside table and opens a drawer and tosses the bottle to Dean. Dean flips the lid open and covers his fingers in lube. He settles back into sucking Cas off and slathering lube over his hole. The finger goes in much easier the second time, and is quickly followed by another. Cas is practically a puddle at his feet after a few minutes of careful stroking of his prostate. Dean isn't surprised when the first spurt of hot liquid hits the back of his throat. He does his best not to choke as he pulls back to suckle the head, swallowing the whole of it down and lapping at the slit to catch the extra. Cas pulls off his dick with a sigh, stroking it slowly as he catches his breath. Dean watches him with a warm sort of pride in his chest. He put that flush on Cas' cheeks. He drove him crazy with pleasure.
Cas looks down at him with a satisfied smile. "You're turn," he says, pulling away and sitting up. He pats the pillows next to him. It's all the instruction Dean needs to stretch out next to him, getting comfortable in what has to be the softest bed he has ever had the pleasure of laying on. Cas leans over him for a kiss, his tongue snaking out to search out the cum in Dean's mouth. When he pulls away, it's with a calculating look. "What should I do with you to reward you for such an excellent orgasm?" Dean smirks, but doesn't say anything. Pretty much anything Cas could do to him would be good with him.
Cas strokes a finger down his pelvis, curtailing his dick, nudging his legs wider so that he can settle between them on his stomach. He begins to suck him again, taking him as deep as he can, encouraging Dean to thrust up into his mouth with a squeeze of his hip. Dean lets his head fall back, relaxing into the pleasure of having Cas' hot mouth around him. He barely even notices the first prod of a finger, and only really registers that Cas has two in him when he starts massaging his prostate. Dean sees stars, his toes curling so tight it's painful. He has to fight not to squeeze Cas' head between his thighs as he thrusts down on Cas' fingers. There aren't words for how phenomenal it feels. Dean would be embarrassed for how quickly he comes from those fingers if Cas hadn't already been blowing him for a good fifteen minutes beforehand.
Cas pulls off to let him cum all over his face. It's messy and filthy and so fucking hot. Cas grins up at him, a little smug. Dean shakes his head, snorting, and pulls Cas up to kiss him. Cas doesn't even need to tell him to before he is lapping up the cum from Cas' cheeks and forehead, his eyelashes. Cas is practically purring by the time he is done. The lube is deposited back in the bedside table, and they crawl under the covers together, laying down on their sides. Cas buries his face in Dean's chest, curling into him. Dean holds him close, kissing his forehead. "Was that okay?" Cas asks quietly.
"That was fucking awesome. Was it good for you?"
"Mmm, very good. Can we do it again tomorrow night?"
"We can do it again in ten minutes if you want."
"I have work in the morning." He shifts his head to look over Dean at the bedside clock. "The alarm will go off in three hours. I hope you don't mind."
"'S fine."
"What are you going to do tomorrow?"
"I'll figure something out. When do you get off?"
"Four. Maybe we could go to dinner tomorrow night?"
"Sure. How about I pick you up from work?"
"That would be lovely."
"'Kay. Shouldn't you be going to sleep now?"
"Yes. Good night."
"'Night." Dean falls asleep with his mind blissfully blank of everything that isn't Cas.
Cas is grumpier than normal this morning, probably due to the lack of sleep. He grumbles through breakfast and a shower, and only loses some of his foul mood when Dean offers to help him dry his hair and gives him a scalp massage. Dean sends him out the door with an extra thorough kiss and a pat to his ass, and he spies a faint upward curve to Cas' lips as he turns in the elevator. When Dean gets back into the apartment, Avery is just coming out of her room, yawning big and peering at him like she can't make him out without her glasses on or something. "Dean?" she asks through a jaw-cracking yawn.
"Hey, there, sunshine. Late night last night?"
"Mmm, have a twenty-page research paper due Monday. Cas didn't say you were coming." She stretches her arms high above her head until her t-shirt no longer covers her stomach and stretches back much further than Dean himself could do. He might think she was trying to show off to him if she didn't look so tired. He doesn't say anything about it.
"I surprised him last night. We were working in Indiana, thought I'd come up for the weekend."
Avery regards him with a skeptical look, but thankfully only shrugs and heads into the kitchen. "Did you get breakfast yet?" she asks over her shoulder. "Cas doesn't usually eat breakfast on days he works."
"Not yet. You gonna make me some?" he asks, following her into the kitchen. They end up making omelets together, Dean cutting up the vegetables while Avery does the actual cooking. Neil stumbles in sometime in the middle of cooking, eats, and wanders back into his room without offering to do the dishes. Avery acts as though this is normal, and they clean up together while chatting amiably. Avery is hilarious, and her hook-up stories could rival Dean's. Dean tells her a few of his own—heavily edited—stories, conscious that she is Cas' best friend and could easily relay anything he tells her back to Cas. Once the kitchen is clean, they spend the rest of the morning curled up on either end of the couch watching Saturday morning cartoons. It's only as two creeps up that Dean mentions that he has to shower so he can go pick up Cas at work.
Avery gives him a calculating look over her fifth cup of coffee. "You guys doing anything tonight?"
"We were gonna grab dinner, but no other plans. Why?"
"You should take him on a date. Like a real date. Buy him flowers, too. I think he'd like that. There's a show a couple of friends of mine are playing over at this bar on Harper. They're good, and they play rock music. Cas said you like that."
"Classic rock, yeah. You think he'd be into that? Going on a real date?"
Avery smiles and nods. "Oh yeah, I think he'd love it. Might even give you that v-card he's been holding on so hard to."
Dean frowns, but shakes his head. "Not really what I'm angling for, but thanks." He looks down at himself, ratty sweatpants and hole-covered Zeppelin shirt and gets up. "Better shower for real then, if I'm taking him out on a date. Mind writing down the directions to that bar while I'm gone?"
Avery nods with a grin and pulls her feet out of the way as he passes. Twenty minutes later he's showered, and much more thoroughly clean than he's ever been before. It feels a little weird, being stretched like that, but barring some sort of natural disaster, he's definitely getting laid tonight, and he's planning on getting Cas to finger him again. If he plays his cards right, he might even get Cas to try one of those toys he's always using when they phone fuck, and Dean doesn't want the party to end because he isn't clean. He dresses in his nicest jeans and button down (which really just means the ones with the fewest holes, and no visible stains), and is heading for the flower shop he saw three blocks down with twenty minutes to spare. He buys half-a-dozen roses, feeling weird buying them for another guy, and makes his way to the Regenstein where Cas works.
The security guard raises an eyebrow at the flowers, but lets him through without further comment. The Circulation Desk where Dean knows Cas works is right by the front door, but there's no Cas standing behind any of the stations. Worried that maybe he got the time wrong, Dean is just walking over to one of the other clerks when he spots Cas coming around the corner, talking to an older woman who looks like she might be in charge. Dean quickly hides the flowers behind his back before Cas can get a glimpse of them and waits to be noticed. As though a magnet is pulling him towards Dean, Cas looks up an instant later and locks eyes on him. He smiles big and says a few words to the woman that look like a goodbye, then slips through the gate that blocks off the Circulation Desk and walks to Dean.
"I didn't think you were serious when you said you'd pick me up," Cas says as he approaches, his smile growing wider the closer he gets. Dean hadn't been paying attention to how he dressed that morning, but he sees now that Cas has on a blue button-down with a black and white sweater vest over it, covered in a knitted pattern of dancing cats. It's probably the weirdest thing Dean's ever seen Cas wear, but the back part of his brain that houses his huge kink for all things nerdy doesn't hesitate to remind him how hot Cas looks.
"So I wasn't supposed to stand on the quad with a boombox above my head blaring Peter Gabriel until you came out?" Dean teases, smirking as Cas frowns at him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Dean huffs a laugh, shaking his head in amusement at Cas' continued lack of pop culture knowledge. "I know you don't. Here, I got you these." He pulls the roses out from behind his back, and the look of shock and pleasure on Cas' face is enough to make the ridiculous over-the-top gesture worth it. Cas takes them with reverence, touching them as though they will shatter with the slightest pressure, and noses at their fragrant petals.
"They're beautiful. Thank you, Dean. No one has ever given me flowers before," he says, his nose still buried in their buds. When his eyes meet Dean's again, there's a layer of heat there that hadn't been there before. Yeah, he's definitely getting laid tonight. Cas reaches up to kiss his cheek and grabs onto his sleeve with his free hand, pulling Dean back past the wide-eyed security guard with a quiet 'good night' to the guy. Dean waves awkwardly over his shoulder, eyes focused on Cas and the way he keeps putting the roses up to his nose to sniff them every few steps.
They get outside and are half a block away from the building when Cas stops and turns to Dean and kisses him for real, the fingers of his free hand tangling into Dean's hair. Dean wraps him up in his arms and kisses him back, only coming back to reality when he's jostled hard from behind. He flicks the stranger off when he looks up to a vicious glare over some guy's shoulder as he's walking away. Cas blinks at the man, a tiny frown quirking the side of his mouth down.
"That was rude."
"Don't worry about it, babe. Where do you want to go to dinner?"
"Are we going to dinner?"
"Yeah? Is that okay? I thought we could grab food and maybe go to this show Avery told me about."
"Show? Like a movie?"
"No, live music."
"Oh, yes, I forgot that's what Avery calls small-venued concerts." The frown curls up into a tiny satisfied smile.
"So, sound good?" Dean prompts, squeezing Cas' sides.
Cas cocks his head to the side, his smile growing. "Dean Winchester, are you suggesting we go on a date?"
"Yeah?" Dean hesitates, feeling a little stupid for even agreeing to this stupid idea.
"Of course, Dean. I think that sounds like a wonderful idea," Cas assures him, his smile blooming into a full-out grin, eyes squinting in the sun. "Can we get burgers at the restaurant on Racine?"
"Yeah, anywhere you want. Come on, let's go get the car." He pulls away, indicating the direction of the apartment with a head nod. As Cas falls into step next to him, Dean has a silly, insane urge and because this entire thing is silly and insane, he goes with it. Cas' hand is hot in his, like a mini-heater. They've never done this—held hands like this—and while it feels weird, it also feels kind of awesome. They make it to the apartment a few minutes later, and Cas goes upstairs to put the flowers in water while Dean pulls the car around.
When Cas comes back, he's wearing the pink pants that make his ass look awesome and the cat vest is gone, replaced by his ever-present trench coat. Dean gets out of the car and goes around to open the door because he doesn't do shit by halves. Cas rolls his eyes and pecks Dean's cheek as he slides into the car. "Where'd the cat sweater go?" Dean asks as he gets back in the driver seat and pulls back onto the road from where he'd been double-parked.
"It wasn't exactly sexy, Dean. You're supposed to try to look sexy on a date, aren't you?"
"Babe, you're getting laid either way. I thought the cat sweater was kind of hot." He gets a playful shove to his side and a derisive snort. "Those pants make me want to fuck you, though." The comment earns him another shove, but the hand lands on his thigh after, so that's good.
They eat dinner at a cool Fifties-style diner that has some of the best burgers Dean's ever eaten, and Dean isn't even embarrassed eating on the same side of the booth. Especially when Cas' hand starts rubbing his thigh just shy of his crotch while he slurps at his milkshake. Dean's wondering if it would be obvious if they went into the bathroom together just as the waitress brings the check, but by then Cas' hands are back in his own lap, and he's chatting amiably with the waitress while Dean pays. By the time they get back to campus and find a parking spot, it's late enough to start heading to the bar where the show is. Dean makes sure Cas still has his fake, just in case, and doesn't object when Cas laces his fingers through Dean's as they walk.
The music is good, if a little more towards grunge than Dean's tastes. He stands behind Cas with a beer in one hand and the other on Cas' hip, occasionally dipping his head to yell something in Cas' ear. Dean knows this isn't Cas' favorite music, but he smiles the whole time and rubs comfortably up against Dean. He's got a couple of beers in Cas by the time the set's over, which is always fun in Dean's opinion.
Cas is already trying to stick his hands down Dean's pants before they've made it a block, and he stops Dean another block down by shoving him into the doorway of a closed shop and kissing him. The force of the shove knocks the wind out of Dean, but he quickly recovers and pulls Cas close, squeezing his ass under the trench coat. Cas moans into his mouth and tries to burrow closer to him, but they're already pressed flush. Dean pulls away after a few minutes of making out, having to hold Cas off him by his back belt loop. "Can we get back to the apartment before you start trying to take my clothes off? I'd love to go down on you here, but I already saw a cop patrolling once."
"Kissing in public isn't illegal, Dean," Cas insists as he sucks hickeys down Dean's neck without shame.
"Yeah, but unbuttoning someone's jeans and giving them a tug job in the middle of the street is," Dean points out, referring to the hand Cas is currently working into the zipper of Dean's jeans. Cas' hand freezes. He makes an unhappy sound and pulls away. Dean pushes the hair from his eyes and kisses his forehead before turning them and leading him in the direction of the apartment. Cas' hands stay above the waist, but he almost runs into a tree while trying to suck Dean's earlobe into his mouth, and Dean has to steer him out of dodge.
By the time they're in the elevator, Dean's so turned on he doesn't object to being pushed against the back wall and kissed to within an inch of his life. The elevator dings, but Cas is still kissing him. He finally has to push Cas towards the doors just before they close, not breaking their kiss. They make it to the door and inside. Dean sees Neil out of the corner of his eye, looking as horrified as he was the night before at being presented with two dudes making out. Dean ignores him—not that he had much choice with Cas pulling him to the hall by the front of his shirt. Dean quickly finds himself in Cas' room with the door closed. He doesn't waste time stripping Cas down, letting his hands rove over Cas' smooth bare skin. Cas is a little rougher with Dean's clothes, but he still takes longer.
They topple onto the bed together minutes later, all fumbling limbs and hot mouths. Dean sees stars—the painful kind—when Cas accidentally smacks him in the head in an effort to get him closer. Cas starts giggling, clearly not sorry for giving Dean a concussion. He sobers after a moment and presses a gentle kiss to the bump he caused. "Sorry," he mumbles, trailing kisses down past Dean's ear. He pushes Dean onto his back, crawling over him with a considering look that is in no way apologetic.
"I want to thank you for such a lovely evening," Cas informs him, kissing his neck.
Dean trails his hands up Cas' bare back, dragging his blunt nails lightly along Cas' skin. Cas shivers. "Yeah?"
"Mmhmm." He takes one of Dean's hands and places it on his ass, guiding two of the fingers to his entrance and encouraging their exploration. Dean thinks he knows what Cas is trying to say and slowly shakes his head, a yawning pit of discomfort swallowing his stomach whole. "I uh… could we wait on that, maybe?" he asks, trying not to show how much the idea freaks him out.
Cas sits back on his haunches with a frown. "What do you mean? Why?"
"I uh… I don't know, I just…" Dean makes a face and sits up, taking Cas with him as he shifts higher on the bed. "It's kind of a big deal, isn't it?"
"Why, because I'm a virgin? I can assure, Dean, it will have little bearing on the end result. I've used enough toys on myself to accommodate even your girth."
Dean clenches his teeth, both because he is frustrated at having to voice his feelings and because the reminder that Cas can ride a dildo like a pro makes his dwindling erection flare back up momentarily. "It's different, doing it with another person."
"I understand that. That's why I want that other person to be you, someone I care deeply for and who I know will take care of me. I decided a long time ago that I wanted you to be my first. I see no reason why tonight cannot be the night it happens."
Dean clenches his hands into fists at Cas' hips and forces himself to say what he really, really doesn't want to. "You're not the only one who's new to this, okay? I'm not ready for this yet."
Castiel frowns deeper, almost sneering in anger. "Is that a joke? Do you think I've forgotten that you spend half your life convincing nameless, faceless women to fuck you? Do you think I don't lie awake at night wondering if you're out somewhere, fucking some stranger while I'm here, wishing you were next to me?"
Dean hadn't even known Cas did weepy drunk, but he's surprised to see tears pooling in Cas' eyes. This was not what he had wanted for this evening at all. He uncurls his fists and uses them to sooth Cas' trembling shoulders, leaning in to press tiny kisses along Cas' cheekbones. "Baby, I'm sorry. If it could just be me and you all the time, I'd choose that any day. But it can't be. You know I have to do that stuff. That's not really what I was talking about anyway. I've never had sex that… meant anything before. Like you said, all my sex has been with nameless strangers I'd just met. I've never been with anyone who made me…" He hesitates, reluctant to say it, but Cas is looking at him with his big, watery blue eyes, and Dean's resolve crumbles, "Feel the way you do. This is special. You're special. I don't want to fuck it up. I'm doing a great job already, obviously," he scoffs, shaking his head at himself.
Cas shifts closer, dropping his eyes to his hands, resting on Dean's stomach. "Do you love me?" he asks. The question was almost a whisper, but he might as well have shouted it for how loud the words resound in Dean's ears. Panic has his heart beating 200-beats-a-minute, and he can feel cold sweat trickle down his neck. He's too freaked out to say anything, but he knows if he stays silent much longer it'll hurt Cas. Instead of words, he pulls Cas in by the neck and kisses his forehead, closing his eyes and inhaling into Cas' soft hair. Cas seems to accept the gesture as an answer of its own and settles against Dean's chest, curling his fingers around Dean's bicep.
"I'm tired."
"Yeah, Cas, me too. Let's go to bed." Cas lets himself be guided under the blankets and shifts around to face the wall while Dean gets up to flick the light off. When he crawls back into bed, Cas shifts back into the curve of his body and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together against his pillow and pressing his lips to Dean's thumb. If Dean stays awake until three thinking, it's no one's business but his.
Cas woke him up this morning with a blow job, and it had been one of the hardest struggles of his young life to say goodbye an hour later in front of Cas' Monday morning class. Now, four hours later, he hesitates in front of the motel room door. Sammy had called him yesterday while he was making lunch with Cas and let him know John had taken care of the poltergeist. The conversation had been stilted, but it didn't sound like Dad had taken any of his anger at Dean out on Sam, which was good.
Dean bites the bullet and pushes the door open and walks in. John's reading a newspaper at the table. He gives Dean a glare when he sees him, but doesn't say anything. Dean takes a deep breath and walks past him, depositing his duffel on the bed he'd been sharing with Sammy. "Heard you got that ghost."
John grunts an affirmative, but keeps his eyes on the paper. The line of tension down his back is a clear sign of his anger. Dean decides it's probably best to just leave him alone and snags a New York Times from the bottom of the pile. He takes it to the bed and spreads out without another word.
Two hours later neither of them has said anything when Sammy comes loping in with a cautious smile for Dean. He gives their father a wide berth and flops down next to Dean with an exhausted sigh.
"How are midterms?" Dean asks.
"Horrible. Pretty sure I just flunked my calc test," Sam sulks, pouting.
Dean ruffles his hair a little harder than necessary and pats his shoulder. "I'm sure you did fine."
"How was Chicago?"
Dean darts a look towards their father, but he doesn't acknowledge them. "It was good. Cas says hi. We uh… we went out for burgers at this 50's joint that was pretty badass. They had a blue cheese bacon burger that was so good I almost passed out. We'll have to try it the next time we go through."
Sam wrinkles his nose. "That sounds… healthy."
Dean rolls his eyes and shoves Sam's shoulder. "Bitch."
Sam throws him a mock glare and starts digging into his backpack. "Whatever, jerk. I gotta study for my history midterm." He pulls out a book thicker than Dean's forearm and a couple of notebooks and flops onto his stomach with his feet facing Dean. Dean shoves one of his stinky socked feet out of the way and goes back to his newspaper.
John only acknowledges either of them another hour later, when he gets up from his chair to go to the bathroom and grumbles at Dean over his shoulder, "You got a hickey on your neck boy." Dean looks down at his lap, lifting a hesitant hand to cover the mark. Shit.