Warning: This chapter contains gay slurs, and m/m grinding.

Chapter 14: Questions and a Romantic Interlude

Dean awoke the next morning, still fully clothed with his arm wrapped around Castiel's waist. He looked down at his friend, boyfriend, partner, whatever he was and smiled. They had talked for awhile about how Dean was doing in his recovery from the mark, and what was going on in the bunker. They had talked until the sun rose, Dean falling asleep, wrapped around Castiel. Clinging to him like a child clings to their stuffed animals, and comforted by the warmth the Angel gave off.

He knew he was getting attached rather quickly, but with Castiel. It felt easier, like he wasn't being judged and was on equal footing. Someone who listened without trying to solve his problems for him, and made him laugh when he needed it. Comforted him even though he wouldn't admit he liked it, and made him feel taken care of for once, instead of him being the one to do all the caring.

He was just about to lay back down and snuggle back into the warmth, when he heard noises out in the main areas.

Damn it! His brother and father where up. He slowly and carefully, unwrapped himself from Castiel's solid form, immediately missing the warmth, and gingerly climbed out of the bed. He needed to get to his own room, before his father decided to pull a stunt like yesterday, and just walk in. He quickly and quietly made his way to the door and opened it, mindful of the squeak that it made. Sneaking to his own room a couple doors down, and entering it just as stealthily.

He heard footsteps coming down the hall, and managed to undress and get into the bed, pulling the blankets over himself just in time for the door to open.

"Dean." His father said, walking into the room and over to his bed. "Come on, sunshine. Time to get up." He ordered, pulling Dean's blankets off him. Dean groaned, he hoped convincingly, squinting his eyes as if he was just waking up.

"What?" He asked, making a show of getting out of the bed, and stretching.

"Those cars aren't going to fix themselves, and it's going to take at least a couple of weeks." John said, opening his closet door and throwing a pair of pants and a shirt at him. "We need to get an early start, so up." He finished, walking out of the room.

Dean rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. He swore the guy couldn't have been human when he was a teenager, and he was still slightly convinced of it. No one should have that much energy in the morning after staying up until two, watching action movies. It was obvious the guy was being driven just as crazy as he was, sitting in here without a hunt. But that was just part of his personality and not because he was cursed by a knight of Hell.

He dressed quickly, and headed out of the room. No point in showering until they where done with the cars for the day, unless he wanted to take another one later, after getting all greased up. He found Sam in the kitchen, making something that smell suspiciously healthy. Just great, that's all he needed. He probably shouldn't have stayed up as late as he did. The kitchen duties where being taken over by people who don't know what a good breakfast was.

John was happy to have something to work on again. Something that he knew, that would take up a considerable amount of time. In his mind, there was nothing better then getting your hands dirty, doing something you love. His hands moved almost on auto-pilot as he checked the cars over, tightening anything that needed to be tightened, and checking the fluids.

It was manly, it was normal, and it took all your attention. It was a job to do, something that was needed. It would, in the long run, give them a good supply of funds as well. People would pay a lot of money for all of these cars. Many of which where older then he was, and he was happy to be fulfilling a boyhood dream, working on these things. He had always had a love of classic cars.

A love, he noticed, that had been passed down to his oldest. Dean may have been upset with being waken up early, but once in the garage, he was almost the Dean John remembered. Smiling, whistling, joking around, and working quickly without so much as a single complaint. Taking him back to when Dean was a child and they would be staying at Bobby's. When he would go out to the yard with him and work on those cars, happy to be learning about something his father loved to do.

He looked down at his oldest's legs poking out from under the car, hearing Metallica being hummed from his location, and smiled. This is what he should be doing. Maybe he could settle down, build a garage in the area and go on minor hunts here and there. With the Demon gone, there was nothing more for him to work towards. He could retired, really be there for his boys, like Bobby was all those years he was gone. He sent a silent 'Thank You' to Bobby, where ever he was, for looking after them. Even if they didn't always get along, he could always tell the old codger had loved his kids.

"So, Sam told me that you guys had been busy for the past few years." John started, wanting to get to know his son again. "But he also said that you both tried to retire a time or two. What did you do when you stopped?" He asked, Dean sitting up too quickly, he thought as he heard a clunk and his son swearing as he scooted himself out from under the car.

"What?" Dean said, sitting up and holding his head.

"Sam mentioned something about a girl and a kid." John said with smile. "I was just curious if I had any grandchildren out there I should meet." He explained, looking down at his son, waiting for an answer.

"No." Dean answered quickly, pulling his hand away to check for blood. "No grandchildren, no girl, no nothing." He said forcefully, grabbing another tool before going back under the car.

"What, did it not work out?" John asked, moving to check the oil. "She kick you out?"

"Dad." Dean pleaded, wanting to stop this conversation. John could tell it was a touchy subject, but he felt like he needed to know.

"Come on, Dean." John asked, stooping down to try and look at his son's face. "Sam told me what had happened with him, I just want to know about you."

"No, it didn't work out." Dean finally caved, voice tight in frustration. "The kid wasn't mine, so you don't have to worry about any grandchildren."

"Why didn't it work?" John prodded, trying to keep his voice politely interested.

"Well, let me think. I was an alcoholic. My brother had come back to life. I had to start hunting again, and, oh yeah, they where kidnapped by Demon's and almost killed." Dean bit out sarcastically. "I thought it safer for the kid, and Lisa if they just forgot I existed, so that's what happened. That's it, nothing else, don't want to talk about it." He finished, John sensing the anger in his voice. Dean was obviously pretty upset about the whole thing, and John couldn't blame him. He understood wanting to stay, then having to leave because it was safer for the whole party, so he dropped the subject.

"Anybody else?" He asked, looking through the engine at his boy, who let out a long suffering sigh.

"No one important." Dean answered stiffly, voice wavering slightly at the end.

"Your saying that in the ten years I've been dead, you have only had one relationship." John said, looking down at his son in disbelief.

"What can I say, Dad." Dean started. "I'm not the type to get into a relationship. Weekends are fine, and one night stands are fun. But a relationship is just not possible in my lifestyle. It's safer for me to be alone, then it is to bring an innocent person into this life." He answered, voice telling John he didn't want to continue this conversation.

"Alright, I get it." John conceded. "You don't want to talk about your past girlfriends. How about any friends you have, except for the weirdo that's here. Still trying to figure out how he managed to make you guys think he was trustworthy."

"Cas is trustworthy, okay. You just have to get to know him." Dean stated, jumping into the defense of his friend. "Yeah, it was a bit rocky during the first year, but we where trying to prevent an apocalypse together. You know how stress can make you do weird things. Then during the next year, we where doing our best to stop one."

"Is that the only reason you two are friends?" John asked, tightening a couple of spark plugs.

"No, he's funny, in his own weird way." Dean answered, his voice muffled by the car. "And it's not everyday that you find someone who's willing to throw a Molotov cocktail of Holy Oil at an Archangel, knowing full well that they are going to die right after, for you." He told John, remembering the conversation he had had last night with his friend.

"A Molotov cocktail?" John asked. After that book that Sam had given him, he had to admit, he admired the guys courage.

"Holy Oil." Dean re-iterated. "And yeah, he did that. Then when Lucifer himself, asked him if he just Molotoved his brother, Cas' answer was 'Uh, no." Dean told him, imitating Castiel's deep voice sarcastically. "Of course, that was all after calling them both 'Assbutts."" He continued with a chuckle. "If the situation hadn't been so dire, I probably would have busted out laughing."

"So he's one of those hunters that are out for kicks, huh?" John asked. To his knowledge, the only kind of people who would do that, are the hunters that usually took unnecessary risks.

"No, he's not." Dean corrected. "He's usually very careful. He just finds a lot of the big issues, and feels like he has to fix it. I can't really blame the guy, I'd do the same thing. Besides, we all need to take some fun out of the job. He just has a problem with authority."

"Dean, isn't there something about him that rubs you the wrong way?" John asked, trying to figure out what it was that was getting to him. The guy sounded great on paper, but for some reason he just couldn't place, he had issues with the guy. "He's a bit clean, I mean, what if he's some kind of queer or something?" He asked, hearing Dean drop a tool, and roll out from under the car.

"Why do you have to say it like that?" Dean asked his father, looking up at him.

"Like what?" John asked, looking down at Dean in confusion.

"Queer, fag, gay." Dean listed off. "Why do you have to say that like it's a bad thing?" Dean asked his father. "I mean, it's not exactly an important issue for us. I mean, what would you have done if I or Sam had come home with a boy instead of a girl?" He asked, walking over to the tool box.

"Why would you ask that question, Dean?" John asked, watching his son's shaky movements.

"Times have changed, people are people. Just answer the question." Dean ordered, looking as if he wasn't going to back down.

"Well." John started thinking. "I would have been confused for one thing. The amount of times I got a call from your school, complaining of you being caught in a closet with a girl." He said, trying to avoid the question.

"That's not an answer." Dean stated plainly, watching his father. "Would you have kicked us out, beat us? I mean, if a guys homosexual, does that mean he doesn't deserve to be saved?" He pressured, watching his father's face.

"No, Dean, of course not." John hedged, what was the point of all this. Whatever it was, he could see that Dean was taking it very seriously. Maybe he had hit on something when he said that that guy might have been gay. "It would take me awhile to get used to the idea. I was raised in a different time, we didn't talk about these things much. But I would like to think I would except it. I mean, it wouldn't be like you had fallen in love with a Demon or some other kind of creature after all." He answered. "But why does this even matter all the sudden?"

"You have to admit, you do come off as very homophobic. I'm just saying, people are people." Dean told him, looking him straight in the eye. "You know what, never mind." He said, raising his hands up in the air and walking out the door.

John watched him go, and looked down at the car they had been working on. They had been having a good time just a few hours ago. Where the Hell had all that come from?

Night fell over the bunker to find everybody going to bed early. John had mentioned something about wanting to get an early start on the cars in the morning since they had stopped after dinner. Sam had stated something about a book he was reading, and went to his room as well. Dean finding this a wonderful opportunity, he had waited until they where clear, before walking to the library that held Castiel.

He found him, as usual, surrounded by massive piles of books. Whatever he was looking into, he was taking it very seriously. He walked in and wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck, before giving a small kiss to the back of it.

"What are you looking at?" He asked Castiel, bending down to read the ancient text that was written in the book. Castiel turned to look at him in slight confusion.

"A book." Castiel answered simply.

"Well, I can see that." Dean said, rolling his eyes. "But what is it about?" He asked, placing his lips just underneath Castiel's ear. The small intake of air telling him that that was a tender spot, and he made a mental not of it for later.

"I'm still trying to find a way of stripping you of that mark, without keeping you locked up in here." He answered, flipping through the pages. "Unfortunately, the topic is woefully under documented. There is no information in any of these." He said, face scrunched in irritation. Dean noticing the pitch in his voice becoming darker in anger.

"We'll find a way." Dean said, giving Castiel's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "I'm getting a bit better, I mean, yeah the thing hurts like a bitch, and sometimes I have trouble distinguishing reality from my own hallucinations. But the meds are helping with the headaches and nausea." He consoled. Castiel placing a hand on his face, looking up at him.

"You still have a fever." He said, dishearteningly.

"But it's not as bad as it could be. I mean, I haven't had an ice bath in days. So that's something." Dean joked.

"I'm just worried about you." Castiel admitted. "Sam's helping when he can, but between keeping your father busy, and trying to hide it from him. He can't help as much as he wants to." He stated, looking back down at the books. "That's why he was happy that you guys have the cars to work on. It gives him the opportunity to help, while you keep your father busy. Who knows what would happen if he found out about this."

"Ahhh, so now the truth comes out." Dean said, as if he'd made a great discovery. He knew there was a reason behind Sam going with them, and making a point of getting everything that was necessary. He was doing his best to help find something to distract his father. Great, now Dean felt obligated to keep John happy so Sam and Castiel could find a way of curing him.

He sat down on the table and watched Castiel flip through the pages of the book in front of him. He was happy that his brother and friend where doing their best to help him, and not leaving it to the original idea that he could just be better after stopping cold turkey. It made him feel just that bit more cared about. He was made even more happy by the fact that Castiel had opted to stay close, for support, and not gone out on his own to try and find a way to help him.

He liked that the best. With Castiel here, he knew he was safe, he was alive. When Castiel left, he was always at the back of his mind. Wondering if he was ever going to see him again. He'd been even more scared of the thought when Castiel had been human last year. He hadn't wanted to make Castiel leave, but he'd been backed into a corner. He wanted to go with him a time or two, but he would have been to worried about Sam as a trade off.

He was, however, very proud of the way Castiel had adapted. Proved that if he ever had to, he could make it on his own. Though Dean didn't want it to come to that. Not at all, he wanted to be there. He wanted Castiel close, safe, and happy. He had talked to Castiel about Gadreel, but he still felt like he should have apologized better.

Thinking about that, he leaned down and guided Castiel's head from the book to his lips. Kissing him slowly, pouring all of the feelings he'd been keeping locked up into it. He felt Castiel's hands move to his shoulder, and the small of his back. Looking for closeness. He pulled Castiel out of his chair, and spread his legs wider so Castiel could stand between them. He smiled pulling Castiel closer, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Castiel situated himself between Dean's legs and leaned forward, claiming Dean's mouth in his own again. His hands laying flat on the table, on either side of Dean's hips. When Dean felt a tongue lick across his lips, he opened his mouth, allowing Castiel access. Sucking Castiel's tongue deeper into his mouth, running his own around it, he could hear Castiel moan.

"You know what really helps me get better?" Dean asked, breaking away from Castiel with a smile.

"What?" Castiel asked, kissing along his jawline before sucking on his ear.

"This." Dean answered, letting out slow groan at Castiel's ministrations as he hit a pressure point. Catching Castiel's lips again, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. He leaned down on the table, Castiel following his movements so that he was bending over on top of him. Dean spreading his legs wider to give Castiel more room. Their bodies flush against each other.

Castiel broke the kiss, and moved further down to work on his neck. Dean could feel the perpetual stubble that always decorated Castiel's face graze him, as Castiel bit into the nape of his neck before licking over the bite and sucking. Dean knew he was going to have to wear something to cover that spot in the morning, but at the time, he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was Castiel's mouth that had migrated to his collarbone, kissing along the indention, before going right back up to his lips.

Dean could feel his pants getting uncomfortably tight, and after the previous make out session he'd had a couple nights ago, that ended horribly with the uninvited arrival of his father. He could use something a bit more intense. His hands played with the edges of Castiel's shirt, pulling them up to expose the skin. Letting his fingers explore what he could reach, feeling Castiel's flat, toned stomach. Just a small amount of hair leading down from his stomach to the top of his jeans, and under.

He pushed his hands up further and around his torso, felling the muscle on Castiel's back, contorting to their owner's movements as he continued to kiss Dean's neck and shoulders. Sliding his hands on as much of Dean's chest as he could reach through the cotton of his shirt, driving him crazy. Dean could feel Castiel's own hardness pressing into his thigh, just a couple of inches away from Dean's own. He felt one of Castiel's hands curl at the back of his head, dragging it back by his hair to give Castiel's mouth better access to his jaw and neck.

"Cas, don't stop." He pleaded, running his hands over every bit of skin he could.

Dean needed this, his body was screaming for it. For some kind of release. He'd been denied this feeling for too long, so caught up in the job and the mark. He needed something to take his mind off it, and this felt so good. Castiel's ministrations on his body where a thing of the Gods, how he took his time to learn everything he could about Dean. What made him moan, and gasp when he touched that spot, just under his jaw. Everything Castiel was doing was made infinitely better when their clothed erections lined up with each other, finally.

Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth when he pushed his hips up to rub against the hardness inside Castiel's jeans. He smiled into the kiss as he did it again, eliciting another moan from Castiel's throat. He was really enjoying that sound. He liked the fact that it was him doing this to his shy, awkward Angel.

Castiel then pushed down harder on Dean's erection, pulling a moan of his own out of Dean. Repeating the process, Castiel had to break the kiss, gasping into Dean's neck as he started a slow rhythm. Pulling Dean's pleasure from him at a tortuously slow pace, Dean leaning his head back as he let Castiel set the pace. This is what he wanted, what his body had been craving for the past few days. This all powerful feeling, building in his stomach. He needed more.

"Cas." Dean begged, his voice drawing out into a guttural growl. Making Castiel pick up the pace a bit, as he latched onto Dean's neck again. Sucking, Dean felt, the very color off his skin. He heard Castiel panting, the pace taking it's toll on him as well. He felt Castiel's thrust becoming more erratic, speeding up as he near his orgasm.

Dean was close, so very close, he could feel it. On the very edge when Castiel pulled his head back by his hair, and started biting down on his pulse point. Sucking the skin hungrily as he soothed it. Castiel's moaning so close to his ear, drove him over as he did everything he could to stop himself from screaming as his orgasm rushed through him. Barely remembering that they where in the library, and anybody could walk by or hear them at any moment.

Castiel slowed his thrust as he rode through his own orgasm. Trembling lips connecting with Dean's for a moment, before they both needed breath. Panting in each other's air as Castiel pressed his forehead to Dean's.

Dean smiled, giving a little chuckle as he regained his composure. He ran his hands through Castiel's short hair, sweat dampened and messy. He smelled of books, and Earth, and Castiel. He looked into those beautiful blue eyes, pupils blown with lust, and excitement, but heavy lidded in satisfaction. How had he not looked at them earlier, he had no idea. He kissed along Castiel's hair line, tasting the sweat that had built up there, because of him, before sucking on his ear.

"Dean." Castiel almost wined. "If you want to continue this, that's fine. But maybe we should go somewhere a bit more private." He suggested, littering Dean's neck with little pecks.

"Yeah, your probably right." Dean agreed, sitting up as Castiel stood back. His pants had started to become uncomfortably sticky and he winced when he took a step. "Your bed or mine?" He asked, grabbing Castiel by the hand, and walking out of the room.

"Maybe your's this time." Castiel answered, with a satisfied smile. "It's bigger." He stated, walking Dean to his room. Then Dean remembered something, and groaned.

"We can't. My Dad has a tendency to just walk in." Dean complained, leaning against the wall. Damn his father and his stupid no boundaries rules. So they lived in close quarters for most of their lives. The whole things with separate rooms on either side of the bunkers was so that everyone could have some privacy.

"My room." Castiel suggested breath still coming out in heavy puffs, and how Dean loved that he called it his room. Like it was permanent. That room would always be Castiel's, even if they started staying in the same bed every night. It was Castiel's, and that's that.

"Yeah." Dean said, walking down the hall again. "But I would have to be at my own again before my father gets up." He warned, opening the door and pulling Castiel in with him.

"I know, you did the same thing this morning. Although you barely made it." Castiel stated, moving to his bed and sitting down. "But perhaps we should sleep. He is going to want to wake you up early."

"Yeah." Dean admitted disappointingly, pulling off his shirt and jeans, climbing into bed with him. He was going to pay for it in the morning. But he felt it was worth it.

There you go. I hope you all enjoyed. This is my first ever love scene, so please be gentle. I'd never written anything like that before.

Anyhoo, hope you all have a good day.