*As you wish. I've got a huge plan now. There'll be more after this.
Cas saw to all of the customers before leaving them in Jo's hands and wandering over to me with my pie. He had two forks and set it between the two of us. Why did he just assume I was willing to share? When he brought his fork down on my precious piece of pie I stuck mine between his fork's prongs and battled it off.
"I made it. It's at least half mine," Cas argued.
"One sixth."
"One third."
"One fifth."
"One fourth."
"Oh fine," I growled reluctantly letting his fork dig in to the pie. Cas brought it to his mouth, which was still slightly swollen from our kiss. Just thinking about it almost made me drop my fork on the way to it's final resting place.
"So you said we'd figure this out," Cas began. I sighed and gave him a pitying look, not sure either of us were prepared for the conversation to follow. Cas inhaled deeply and said, "So let's figure this out."
"I can't stay," I whispered.
"Your job is that important?"
I nodded wearily and gestured out the window to the car where Sam was waiting. "I probably wasn't even supposed to stay this long, to be honest."
"How often can you come back then?"
"Twice, maybe three times a year? We're all over the country all the time. I've never been at liberty to make social stops before. Not really anyways.
"Dean," Cas murmured. "I really do care about you, but how in the hell are we going to make something like that work?"
"I don't know. But I'm willing to try if you are," I replied honestly.
"Tell me about this job."
"Cas."
"Dean."
"Okay," I declared, "But you asked for it. Just remember that. This is gonna sound kind of crazy but I'm one hundred percent telling you the truth. I hunt the supernatural. Demons, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, you name it and I hunt it. Unless it's not that real that is. Anyways, that's what me and Sammy do. We were raised to kill by my dad when my mother was killed by a demon not long after Sammy was born. We save people's lives, Cas, and I will never give that up. It's who I am. And you know what? I'm damn good at it, too."
"You're serious?" Cas said, the usual expression of absolute horror and disbelief clouding his face.
"Yeah."
Cas didn't say anything for a moment, deep in thought. I could tell because he was spinning a ring he wore on his middle finger over and over again. When he finally met my eyes again his face was surprisingly clear and calm. "Then I believe you. And I understand why you can't stay. That's bigger than anything I came up with while brainstorming possible jobs. You sure as hell didn't strike me as an accountant," he smiled briefly. I tried to return the smile but I was beginning to see just how difficult this sort of thing was.
Cas reached over the table and gripped my hands tight within his. "You're too good to give up on, Dean. Let's try this. But you're going to have to promise me something."
"Anything."
"No hook ups or casual flirtations. You're taken."
"Alright," I sighed, feigning sadness. Cas laughed, thankfully, and gave my hand a squeeze.
"Give me an estimate of when I'll see you again. I'll count down the days."
"Too girly, dude."
"But true."
"Not around me. Not around me," I chanted, cupping my ears with my hands. "I am a man. I am a man. I am a man," I said to myself, drowning Cas out. He reached up and removed my hands with his stunning half-smile.
"I'm aware, Dean. Now stop being a baby."
I mellowed substantially. "There's no such thing. I don't know when I won't have a case or when something'll be in the area. But whenever I have the opportunity I'm here, okay? And you can always call me. I never desert my phone." I flipped his hand over to his palm and wrote my number down with a pan from my jacket pocket.
"I have to go," I murmured, biting my lip. I couldn't look at him as I slid out of the booth, leaving some money, and making for the door.
"Dean," Cas said, chasing after me. "That is not how you say goodbye." And in front of every person in the restaurant he kissed me gently before wrapping me in a clenched embrace. I faintly heard people clapping but this didn't feel like a celebration. It felt like a funeral. He put his lips against my ear and whispered, "Do you know what motel you'll be staying in?"
"Yeah, I think Sam booked a week at the Inn of the Five Graces. What kind of name is that?"
"A unique one."
"I'll see you around, Cas."
"And I'll be seeing you." I strolled out the diner forcing myself not to look back until I was in the car so Sam could restrain me when I tried to go back to him. I wrenched open the passenger door, climbed in, and finally looked back through my windshield at him. He was still in the booth I just left and when our eyes met he shot me a sweet smile that didn't meet his eyes. A single tear cascaded down my cheek which I almost instantaneously wiped away with the back of my hand before glancing over at Sam and telling him to just drive. A waved lethargically at Cas as we pulled out and he just raised his hand like he was in the movie Pocahontas or something. It made me laugh.
"Are you going to be okay, Dean?"
"Yeah, Sam. Stop asking. Just drive." I leaned up against the window and watched the tops of the trees and edge of the sky blur together into a kaleidoscope of color. That was how my brain felt. Everything blurred together until I couldn't tell the difference between up and down, left and right.
Cas didn't call or text or anything all week. I shifted from the bed, to the floor, to against the wall, to inches from the t.v., to slicing every monster in sight, and I hardly bothered to get out of bed or the shower anymore. Sam occasionally asked how my feelings were holding up but I could barely say a word to him unless it was sarcastic or borderline cruel. But, as always, he put up with it like it was nothing. At the end of our stay, when we were packing up to leave, Sam came in with a letter in his hand and a ridiculous grin on his face. He waved it in my face before handing it over. It was in Cas' handwriting. I wanted to read it in the comforts of home so I waited until Sam was driving away from the cheesy motel, we should've known by the name, before I slit open the letter and opened a creased sheet of notebook paper. Apparently that was a thing with him. What was wrong with a simple piece of printer paper?
September 7th
Dean,
It's only been a week. I hardly even remember it to be honest. Though I think Jo did most of the work. It was especially hard when I saw Katie at the homeless shelter, and you were right she's totally into me. She tried to make a move, but anyways when I told her I wasn't available the first thing she asked was where my friend from a couple of nights ago was. I couldn't answer her. I couldn't because it meant thinking about the fact that it wasn't just going to be weeks but months until I see you.
Sorry about not calling you. I want to hear your voice so badly but I'm afraid if I do that I won't be able to go a minute without it. So I decided we should write letters. I'm going to attempt and explain why with diving into the realm of 'girly' as you so astutely put it, but I have a feeling I won't succeed. Our relationship was a whirlwind of feelings and it reminded me a lot of the classic Romeo and Juliet or Sleeping Beauty. The romances that were epic and deep after mere days. And they wrote long love letters, so I thought that would be most appropriate for our relationship. If you disagree give me a call. I would never ignore you. But if you're willing to jump on board send me a letter in return and make sure at the end to tell me the location of the next motel you are staying at. It will require planning ahead but I think it'll be worth it.
Needless to say I miss you like crazy. So does Jo. I think she was really happy to see a familiar face around here. But it's gone pretty much back to normal. Business is the same as usual. I remember the morning I woke up after you left I was so sure business was going to be booming. That you leaving was price enough for some sort of miracle but alas it is not the way it turned out.
I keep replaying the kiss. The first one, of course. The terrible, or maybe wonderful thing is, is I know the memory has faded and is not anything close to what the real thing had been like. But every time I watch it in my head I'm smiling and fingering my lips. Whenever Jo notices she laughs and gives me a light shove on the shoulder because I'm doing it all the time. Thankfully she never tires of it. It just reminds me how amazing the real thing will feel when you're back, whenever that is. I'm counting down the days as promised, even though I don't know the destination.
Love,
Cas
P.S. I've always left a postscript. I didn't think the time to stop should be now.
September 8
Cas,
Your idea suits me just fine. It makes you happy so I'm happy. I'm already anticipating your next letter even though I haven't sent this one out yet. We just arrived at a motel in Arizona and the very first thing I did while Sam set to work on research for our case was write this letter. I'm not really the type so when Sam saw what I was doing he literally collapsed to the floor laughing, and called me a girl, and a hopeless romantic. Which are not the words I would choose to describe me. Ever. What have you done to me?
As I said before, this isn't really my thing. Maybe I'll get better at it but I kind of doubt it. I'm not gonna say anything nearly as sweet as you do so forget that too. Writing letters back and forth with me is like doing it with an old crabby grandfather you'd rather forget but that's me and I'm not changing that even for you.
We've just started a wendigo case here and it should go by pretty quick since we've located what we think is it's lair in less than five hours. We already have a case lined up so don't send the next letter here but to a motel in Colorado. Twin Springs.
Sam keeps asking me how I'm doing and between you and me I'm about to punch him senseless until he sees stars. Also between you and me, I'm not doing great. I barely moved when you didn't call me. I miss you too, man. That's probably the nicest thing you'll ever hear from me. Sorry this isn't long or in depth as yours. I just don't know what to say.
Love,
Dean.
P.S. Should postscripts be our thing? I'll add one every letter until the day you stop.
September 12
Dean,
I hope I allowed enough days in between, meaning I got the letter yesterday, noticed the date, and decided I couldn't go even minutes without writing you back. I'm sure it's fine.
One thing I couldn't help laughing at in your letter was the fact that you weren't ever going to be romantic. The I miss you was as good as it was going to get. You know what I thought the most romantic part of that letter was? The words, 'What have you done to me?' I'm glad I've had an effect. My point is, you can't help being romantic, Dean. You've finally found a worthy recipient. I can imagine you now as I right this. You are so giving me the 'why are you so cocky look?' Yes, you have a look for that.
I don't have a lot to talk about as far as my life goes. I have a very set routine in life that hardly ever changes. I get up, cook and bake, serve people until one, sleep for six hours and go at again. I did have a customer today who was just as enthusiastic about my apple pie as you had been. I thought it would cause me pain but to be honest it was refreshing. I was glad that I could still find parts of you in my life even though you weren't here. And along with that, not really related but whatever, I realized we know hardly anything about each other. I mean the fluffy stuff. I already feel like I know your soul, but not the stuff that separates you from everyone else. Care to fill me in? I'll give you an example.
I don't watch much t.v. or movies so I have nothing to say as far as those go. I read a ton. I love mystery and fantasy novels. I will admit my favorites probably include Harry Potter. That woman was a genius. I don't actually like pie, which is funny because I make so much of it. I only ate any of yours the day you left because I knew it would irritate you. I do love italian food though. Of any kind. I've traveled all over the world. That's what I was doing before I owned this little restaurant. My favorite place was by far Austria or New Zealand though. They are so peaceful and beautiful with rich unique histories that most people know nothing about and I like that about them. My favorite color is green, similar to the color of your eyes actually. Although, I'm not sure if that's just a recent thing. I'd never really been aware of shade before, I don't think.
Love,
Cas
P.S. I am so not trying to be kinky or anything, but I can't seem to stop thinking about your body on top of mine, your hands in my hair, your lips on my neck. And I don't even know how that's possible because I never even got to experience it.
September 20,
Cas,
Kinky's right up my alley. I can understand that so feel free. Sorry it's been a while I've been busy. Still miss you.
I've always enjoyed eating pie, that wasn't just yours. I have a 1967 Chevrolet Impala that I nicknamed Baby. It's kind of me and Sammy's home since we don't actually have one. I'm usually the only one that drives it but occasionally I let Sam have a go. I listen to old classic rock and that's it. I wear my dad's leather jacket, keep his journal close, as well as his phone, and think about him all the time. Since he died I've realized that I didn't deserve everything he put on me. He told me all about those monsters and taught me how to shoot a gun instead of how to kick a soccer ball. He tried to let Sam have a normal childhood, but not me. I was supposed to protect Sam. I kind of followed every order he every gave me because that's what being a good son is about. I don't regret any of that, sometimes I just wish he'd realized maybe I need a childhood too.
I would do anything for Sammy. He's kind of what my world revolves around now. I still work to keep him safe because he's all I've got left. I can't lose him.
That's kind of my life in a nutshell to be honest. All I've known is hunting and family and that's about all in my life worth talking about. Not nearly as exciting as yours, I'm afraid.
I just reread your letter while writing this because I had no idea what else to say and I realized that your probably thinking you're way more invested in this than me. I'd just like to say the fact that I'm writing this letter proves I might be more invested than you even though I'll never say half the things you do.
Love,
Dean
P.S. Twin Falls, Montana
We managed to keep those letters up for months and months until the day Sam pointed at an article in the paper and said, "It's your lucky day, Dean. There's one in Oregon."
I would get to see him. There was no need to write a full length letter. Instead I wrote:
Cas,
We've got a case in Oregon. I'm coming to see you. I'll be there before you know it.
Love,
Dean
P.S. I'm so fucking excited. I love you.
We stopped at a post office in Georgia before beginning the thousand mile drive to Oregon. I knew that there were cases we could finish in between the drive. Sam didn't have to tell me that. But he realized how much I needed this and there was no way he was going to make me stop. On the drive over, I was blasting some rock music, singing along, pounding my hand on the steering wheel, and I couldn't stop glancing down at the stack of letters underneath the cassette player that had been gathering for months now instead of checking the speedometer to see how fast I was going. Every once and a while Sam would peek at it for me and remind me to slow down.
"Why?" I asked. "Why would I slow down?"
"Look at it this way," Sam sighed. "Cas needs time to get that letter. You don't want it to be a surprise. You want him to be just as excited as you, right? If you drive too fast we might get there too early."
"You're so full of bullshit."
Sam shrugged and I reluctantly slowed so that I was only going fifteen miles over the speed limit. Sam gave me one of his classic bitch faces, so obviously it wasn't good enough for him but I didn't care all that much.
The drive couldn't have gone any slower but eventually the flickering red sign came into view and I could feel my heart pick up it's pace tenfold. I was smiling already and so was Sam. I hadn't realized until that moment that Sam cared that much about my happiness or even payed that much attention to how I was feeling.
The gravel crackled underneath my tires as I parked haphazardly in one of the six spots. Cas had gotten around to spray painting makeshift white lines in the gravel for parking spaces. Besides that, the diner hadn't changed a bit, and I loved that. It had been months now and he'd kept it the exact same. Even the customer flow was no different. Only two other cars were there and one of them I recognized. He must've become a regular.
"Which are you more excited for Dean, the pie or Cas?"
"You even have to ask that?" I teased, "Obviously the pie. Do you think our table will be reserved?"
"Normally I would say no, but Cas has had a habit of surprising me. So...yes. I bet it is."
Sure enough, the moment I heard the familiar bell jangle and glanced over at our table there was the same sign as when we left and a notebook paper note resting on the table. Jo glanced behind her shoulder when she heard the bell and ran at me, throwing her arms around my neck. I lifted her up in a hug and a kiss on the cheek before giving her off to Sam's open arms.
"It's good to see you boys, again. Feels like it's been a long time."
"You could say that again," I said as I sunk down into our booth and unfolded the note. The goddamn notebook paper again. I faintly heard Sam and Jo chatting in the background as I devoured the words. They were somewhat minimal this time, which was a surprise. He was the longwinded type.
Dean,
I got your letter, so I reserved the table the moment after. I'm back in the kitchen as you would expect. I'll come deliver your food, because it's killing me already knowing you're sitting out there and I haven't seen you yet. I just have one request. Let's at least try to remain semi-professional.
Love,
Cas
I chuckled lightly at his last comment, before pocketing the letter and watching Sam's long, gangly body to fit into the booth. It was quite a process sometimes.
"What can I do for you guys?" Jo asked.
"I think a burger sounds good," Sam replied.
"I'm not really hungry. Just say hi."
"Dean," Sam chastised me. "You haven't eaten all day. For god's sake get something to eat. You'll want it later."
"I'll have a milkshake and some fries, then," I smiled, remembering the milkshake Cas had so kindly shared with me.
"You got it."
"Wait, Jo," I yelled after her, sliding out of the booth and jogging up to her.
"Hang on a sec, Dean." She placed two pieces of paper up on the counter between the kitchen and register, rapped it once to indicate there were orders and I saw his hand. I knew it was his because of that little mole and my heart palpitated.
"What's up?" When I didn't answer she snapped a finger in my face and i jolted out of my stupor.
"Sorry," I said, "I just wanted to ask what he's been like."
"Fine. Given the situation he's holding up really well. There are times when he's cooking where his hands'll stop moving and his gaze will shift up so that he's looking at nothing and I know he's thinking about you. And at least once a week after he's dropped off the food at the homeless shelter he'll come back here and have a couple of shots of tequila by himself. But he doesn't ever crack and whenever one of your letters arrive he won't do anything until he's finished reading. He'll drop anything, too. I've taken to getting to the mail before he can so that I can choose the time he reads it. It's strange," Jo murmured. "You guys barely knew each other but I can tell he really loves you."
"Wait," I said, "Where does he live?" I probably should've known by now but all the letters came to the diner and not his home.
"I know it doesn't look it, but there's a loft above the restaurant so he lives up there. He lives and breaths this place, Dean. I've got to get back to work."
"Yeah, sure." I went back to the booth and to Sam.
"What was all that about?" Sam wondered aloud.
"I just wanted to know how Cas was really holding up. So what's this case we got?" I asked, trying to distract myself. But it wasn't working. I could hardly think straight. He could come through that door at any time.
"Looks like a vampire, actually. Victims drained of blood, bite marks, the whole deal. All the victims are blond, indicating a type, which makes me think it's just one, maybe two. A whole group wouldn't be that picky."
"Any idea where they're holed up?"
"Nope. But, get this, all the vics have been pulled from some bar not far from here. I thought when we're done here, if ever, we'd go check it out. Or I could just go alone."
"No. I'll go with you. Can't have my brother getting eaten."
"I'm not a blond chick, Dean, last time I checked."
"Aren't you?" I said cheekily. "Your hair is certainly long enough. You need a haircut, man."
"And you need to shave."
"Shut up." I shrugged my leather jacket from my shoulders and laid it beside me in the booth. "It's kind of hot," I declared, airing out my shirt beneath my flannel, "Aren't you hot?"
"No."
I guess it was just me, which was entirely plausible if I was being honest.
And then the door wavered slightly before being pushed all the way open and a pair of low slung jeans peeped through the side and he was there. He stopped walking the moment he saw me, our eyes meeting, and just stared, a small smile flitting across his face and his eyes were filled with a love that no one had ever shown me before in my life. I could feel people staring before averting their eyes in embarrassment as though they'd interrupted the most important event in the history of the planet. Which, as far as I concerned, it was. Then he shook his head almost imperceptibly and began walking, both hands laden with our food, his movements fluid and relaxed which was the exact opposite of how I was feeling. I was about to explode.
Cas placed the food in front of us, and as he brought up his hands to wipe them on his apron as always, his hand brushed mine lightly and reassuringly. It just made my hair stand up on end. I stood in a rush and enveloped him in a smothering hug. His arms circled around my waist and I rested my chin on his shoulder. I didn't plan on moving but reluctantly he tugged away and placed one hand on my cheek, his thumb grazing across my stubble. "Not now," he whispered. "I have work to do. Stay?"
"I have to go check out a vampire thing but I'll come back right after."
"Good enough for me."
I wanted to kiss him so badly but he'd already turned his back on me and ambled back to the kitchen. Sam was on the verge of laughing and I shoved against our booth as we headed out of the diner.
"You are such a teenage girl."
"And you're jealous," I shot back as I was sliding into the Impala and starting her up. "Let's go slice and dice some vamps."
"Dean, we're just going to the bar."
"I'm aware."
"Whatever."
"It just sounds cooler, dude," I said. In reality, I'd just been trying to maintain a shred of my pride and manliness.
When we entered the bar there were a couple of your early afternoon drinkers and your suckers who came after a bad day at work, with their ties loose and slouched over the bar. A bartender was drying glasses and stacking them on shelves when we approached him in our suits with our badges.
The gruff bartender nodded curtly before turning back to his work. "What can I do for you guys?"
"There have been three missing persons in this area in the last week and they were all here the day they disappeared and we think they might have all been taken from here. Have you seen anything odd? Odder than normal?" Sam asked.
"Not that I recall. Just the usual drunken men abusing unaware women and dragging them home."
"Has there been a frequent who does that?" I asked.
"Now that you mention it, yeah. Tall, good-looking guy. He always has on a black leather jacket and a winning smile. Doesn't drink anything though but consistently takes a blond chick home with him."
"Anything else you remember about him?"
"His hair was longish and brown I'm pretty sure. No idea about the color of his eyes, though. He had a certain arrogance and every once and a while he looks almost sickly. Really pale. Like he just got off a spinny ride or something."
"Thank you," Sam smiled. We backed away from the bar a ways and Sam nodded. "That's definitely the guy."
"Agreed. How do we find him?"
"I'll stake out the place tonight. See if he stops by. And if he does, I'll follow."
"Sam..."
"Dude, don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. Go have fun with Cas."
"At least drive me back and then take the car," I sighed, knowing there was no hope in winning this one.
"Sure."
When I got back to the diner, business was booming and I collapsed into my booth to wait it out. Jo came over ten-ish minutes later when she had a break and laid a key on the table.
"In the back by the bathroom there's another door. It should be locked and when you open it, there will be a set of stairs. Cas said you could go wait in his apartment if you wanted until he's free. He'll probably need to stay down here but I'll knock when he can chat," Jo stated.
"Thank Cas for me." I swiped the key from the table and followed Jo's directions until I entered one very large room that satisfied many in a normal house. In the center was a wooden table with a couple of candles and chairs on top of a simple green and blue rug. Paintings hung on all the walls. None of them were particularly exciting, but they complimented the room nicely. A large bed was to the left and it was covered in a massive blue quilt. It was actually created out of all possible shades of blue with different patterns on each new fabric. To the right was a beige couch that was definitely old and beaten down judging by the floppiness of the pillows across from a small flatscreen television. And instead of videogame platforms or a massive movie collection there were bookshelf after bookshelf of books on the whole right side of the room. There was a seat by one of the window's with a sort of pillow mat and a hanging light. The room was immaculately clean like the rest of his belongings. I crashed on the couch, lying down and switched on the t.v, flipping through channels. I didn't stay on any one channel for long but it was entertaining enough.
As the light faded and I began to notice when the t.v. changed colors when switching camera views or scenes I heard a knock sound on the door below. I started and rolled off the couch to my knees. I wasn't particularly excited to stand but I did, and stumbled down the stairs, rubbing my eyes to the diner. When I saw Cas he was busy cleaning the counter where the register was positioned and Jo was dangling off one of the bar stools, chatting with someone on the phone. Probably Ellen. I sat beside her and watched Cas work silently. His arms muscles tightened and his shoulders were hunched forward as he was scrubbing. Occasionally he would wipe his forehead to get rid of nonexistent sweat and at the point I could no longer resist. I climbed up onto the counter and swung over to his side before folding him into my arms and gently removing the scrubby pad from his grasp. It didn't take much effort and he returned the hug, his head nestling up into my neck. I faintly heard the bell ring announcing a customer and Cas flinched as he tried to get away but I wasn't letting him escape me this time. "You got that Jo?" I whispered.
She smiled at me and nodded. "In fact, I've got it for the rest of the night." At that Cas managed to wrestle away, glaring at me, and turned to Jo. "I couldn't let you do that."
"Yeah you can. You don't even have to pay me extra. I want to."
"Why in the hell would you want to do that?"
"I care about both you and Dean and clearly you both want some alone time. I'm not stupid and I would be happy to oblige."
"Thank you, Jo," Cas sighed. "Let me know when you're closing up so I can deliver the food."
"Nah, I'll do that too. It's on the way home anyways."
"Jo, I..."
"Cas, shut up. Dean shut him up."
I shook my head at Jo's stubbornness but also winked at her in thanks and swept Cas up in my arms. He was heavy, but not all that bad. He protested and I brought my mouth down on his. He didn't kiss back for a while before reluctantly bringing his hands up and into the fringes of my hair and pulling me closer.
"Thanks Dean," Jo smiled.
"No problem." I carried Cas up the stairs and to the couch in his apartment before setting him down. "Nice place," I said.
"Thanks," Cas whispered. "Are you sure Jo doesn't need..."
"I'm sure, Cas. You don't want to mess with her when she's like this, trust me. Just go with the flow man."
"How'd the vampire search go?"
"Good," I replied matter-of-factly. "We found out that the bastard did in fact frequent the bar Sam had connected to all the victims. He's there now waiting for him so he can figure where to find him when he has me."
"You should be there with him," Cas sighed.
"No, I shouldn't. I deserve this and so do you. Come here." I tugged him over until he was snuggled up against my side on the couch and kissed the top of his head. "Doesn't this feel right to you?" I whispered.
"Of course," Cas relaxed wriggling closer. "I just don't know what to say to you."
"We've been doing plenty of talking. Sometimes there isn't anything to say."
Cas nodded and we sat there, the t.v. on but muted, in silence, watching the images fly by. I hadn't been more happy in my life and I knew Cas felt the same when he passed out with his head on my lap, snoring lightly. I lifted him in my arms for the second time that day and set him on the bed before pulling off his shoes. I thought about undoing his jeans as well, figuring like any sane person he wouldn't want to sleep in them but I wasn't entirely sure I had permission. So instead I tugged the blankets from beneath them and laid them up to his chin. I pulled off my jacket, flannel, and shirt and jeans until I was just in my plain black boxers and slid underneath the covers with him. I pulled him up flush against me wishing desperately that I had been brave enough to slip off those jeans so I could feel some skin. And I fell asleep with my hand against his lower waist and my nose in his sweet-smelling hair.
I woke at four in the morning to Cas shifting back and forth on the verge of waking up himself. When his eyes opened blearily I smiled and kissed his soft lips. Cas smiled, yawning, and turned in my arms to face me. "I could get used to this," he whispered.
"Yeah, me too."
I kissed him again, reaching beneath the sheets and up under his shirt feeling that hot skin I desired. Cas opened his mouth under mine, our tongues meeting and dueling carefully, exploring. I could feel Cas' back muscles rippling as he shifted on top of me, his legs straddling my waist as he continued attacking my mouth. I lifted his shirt off, with his help. His hands traveled down my chest to the seam of my boxers where his fingers played with the edge, dipping below it occasionally. I rolled him over so I was on top and his legs were wrapped around my back. The only problem was his jeans rough, chaffing contact on my skin. I unbuttoned his jeans, broke of our kiss, and slowly removed the fabric trailing my hand down the side of his leg from the end of his boxers to his foot before moving back in for another kiss. My lips were already starting to throb but it didn't matter much. I trailed kisses down the side of his cheek, to his neck where I gave sloppy open mouthed kisses intermingled with closed ones before sweeping back and forth over his collarbone barely making contact. Then I made my way down his chest to his stomach giving soft kisses until I was at the end of skin. I came back up, nibbling his ear gently, before whispering, "What do you think?"
Cas bit my ear gently, gave the lobe a fleeting lick before panting, "I think I've been ready for this my entire life." He flipped back over so he was on top and licked down my neck, interrupting with kisses every once and a while so I was quickly panting along with him, our breaths intermingling. His fingers traveled deliciously down my sides before he slid my boxers down the end of my feet where I kicked them off. He followed with his, his blue eyes meeting mine and I succumbed to him.
"How about a shower?" Cas said, when he got up from bed his body entirely revealed in the light.
"Sure. Just let me enjoy the view."
"Get up."
"Right," I laughed and reached for his hand as he led me to what I had been sure was a closet but really it was just a massive shower with a tiny bit of space for a laundry hamper. Cas threw his clothes in there before bending over and turning on the water. It was soon steaming and we got in. We shampooed each other's hair and scrubbed each other's body clean from the sticky mess we'd made with a bar of soap. It was strangely productive considering that we were both naked.
When we finally got dressed and downstairs, which took much longer than anticipated because I'd realized I was totally up for more sex, Sam was sitting in a booth and Jo was already at work serving people.
"Oh, god, sorry Jo. This is totally unprofessional."
She ceased what she was doing and turned to cup Cas' face in her hands. "Did you have fun last night? I mean this morning?"
"You heard us?" Cas gasped.
"Yeah, don't worry about it. No one else was here. Did you have fun?"
Cas nodded, his cheeks flushed. I was just smiling at the fact I could make him do that just from a memory.
"Then it doesn't matter. Get to work cooking, though. Customers will be here soon. I just let Sam in because he had nowhere else to go this morning, considering his brother spent the night." Jo gave me a thumbs up as I went over to Sam.
"You make quick work of things, don't you Dean?"
"Life is short, Sammy. Got to take what I can get," I smiled.
"I followed the vamp last night. There's only one, like I said. We take him out this is finished. You probably only get one more night here."
"Meaning I really don't, you're just being nice."
Sam nodded and I groaned. "This sucks."
"Yeah, sorry man. You could always quit you know."
"You know I can't," I sighed, glancing over at Cas who was busy tying his apron around his waist. That same waist I'd handled quite well if you ask me this morning.
"When are you going to tell him?"
"When I'm able."