Chapter 2. I Cuffed a Guy And I Liked It

Cas woke, warm and content. His eyes opened slowly and he gasped slightly at the sight of Dean's sleeping face a mere inch from his own. His light brown hair tousled and free on his pillowcase. His freckles so clear, this close. Cas was on his side, his legs intertwined with Dean's under the blanket and his arm was around his waist, pinned under Dean's, which was around Castiel's shoulder. Their cuffed hands lay nestled between them. Castiel's eyes popped into full awareness realizing he could feel Dean's erection running up the back of his hand.

Dean's hand rested snugly against his own erection and Cas could not stifle a soft moan that escaped his open mouth. The nearness and the touching and the smell of Dean overwhelmed his senses and he pinned his eyes shut not wanting to end it. Not wanting to endure the wrath that would be Dean if he woke up this way. In some ways, Cas knew Dean cared a lot for him. But there was the ever-present reminder that Cas repulsed him at times. A part of him wanted to be brave like Gabriel. Wake him up by taking his mouth by storm. Secure his hand around that warm erection and make Dean see that he could satisfy him if given the opportunity. He swallowed his dreams with bitterness and a measure of self failure. He gently withdrew his cuffed hand from the feel of swollen flesh and soft cotton, moved his hips back to give Dean's cuffed hand space. He waited, watching the sweet slumbering face beside him. He withdrew his arm slowly. Dean moved onto his back, releasing his leg hold and Cas was free. Except the hard iron of the cuff chaining them together. He rolled to his own back and sighed. He felt cold in every spot Dean had been touching. He inched his hand back over, rubbing the back of his against Dean's.

"Dean," Cas called, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. "Dean."

Dean moaned and absently reached down, grabbing his own cock and giving it a rub.

"Dean!" Cas called, unable to witness any more without losing his fracturing resolve.

"Yeah!" Dean snapped to, eyes open and sitting up.

He rubbed his eyes, pulling Castiel's arm along for the ride.

Oh gawd," Dean murmured, taking in his situation.

"I think it's time to get up," Cas said.

"Yeah. Yep." Dean blinked a few times. A smile snuck onto his face and was gone just as quickly.

Cas glared at him. "Quit smiling."

"Shudup," Dean muttered wiping his hand down his face. "Come on."

Cas scrambled to follow him out of the bed, feeling like a dog on a leash.

The bunker had a gym style bathroom with a row of four sinks, four toilet stalls, four urinals and in another room, a locker section with benches and an open shower room with six shower heads.

They left Dean's room heading for the bathroom. They entered and Cas followed Dean to the urinal, looking away. Dean sighed. Cas waited.

"Is-" Cas began.

"Shut up," Dean snapped.

Cas waited silently. Finally, he heard a steady stream.

They walked to the sinks and Dean washed his hands. Snickering, he washed Castiel's chained hand as well. Cas side-eyed him and laughed softly. He looked in the mirror at his hair, standing on end. His power was low. He could feel it. Like when he was very hungry when he was human. They brushed their teeth and hair in a give and take system, learning to work together.

"Let's get dressed before Sam gets up," Dean said.

"Alright," Cas complied.

Back to Dean's room, pants were put back on with slight blushes. Cas wondered at the act of fastening and unfastening jeans and why it aroused him so much. What really made him wonder was Dean's similar reaction. But he knew better than to ask.

Eating breakfast was how Sam found them.

"Morning guys!" he said brightly with a shit-eating grin.

"Morning," the cuffed pair mumbled.

"So, how-"

"Sam," Dean said with a smile that was in dangerous contrast to his eyes that were shooting death glares, "if ya ask me how we slept... I will stab you with this spoon."

Sam snapped his mouth shut, unsuccessfully masking his humor at the situation and said nothing.

He poured a bowl of cereal, drowned it with milk and set to eating.

"What's the plan?" Sam asked.

"We have none," Cas said simply.

Dean kept eating. Eyes on his bowl.

"What did the file say?" Sam asked.

"Very little," Cas answered.

Dean kept eating. Eyes on his bowl.

"Elaborate, Cas," Sam said, a mite of frustration growing.

"It was confiscated from a witch in 1945," Cas said.

Dean kept eating, but looked up at Sam, exchanging a withering look. The brothers frequently shared this glance. It was the "damn it Cas, spill all details, fill in the blanks for the rest of the class" look.

"Cas," Dean said with a warning.

"Well, this makes no sense. According to the file, the handcuffs were iron and made to handcuff demons. They have obviously been altered by an Angel at some point. The symbols are in Enochian. And it resonates with an angelic energy. None of which is mentioned in the file."

"Cas," Sam said patiently, "that's actually a lot of information."

Dean gave Cas a look, shaking his head slightly.

"So...an angel tampered with handcuffs in storage inside the bunker," Sam surmised.

"So it would seem," Cas agreed.

Sam gave Cas a level look. "Was it you?"

Castiel's eyes widened. "No, Sam." He scowled.

"What the hell, Sam!" Dean glared. "That's ridiculous."

"Did you do it?" Cas countered.

"Me?" Sam laughed. "Uh... No."

"Maybe Gadreel did it."

Dean ducked his head. Sam still got bitchy about that topic.

Cas and Sam exchanged a challenging look.

"Alright," Dean cut them off. "Does it matter who did it?"

"It might," they both answered.

"Hey, get your own Bobsey twin," Dean smirked, raising his shackled hand.

Sam sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "You sure are handling this better than I thought you would."

"What?" Dean laughed. "Nobody is dying. Hell, no one is even bleeding! As far as the panic scale goes, this is a low priority. Not that we don't need them off. But hey, I know right where Cas is. How often can I say that?"

Cas smirked at him. "I always come when you call, Dean."

"No. No ya don't. I've hollered until I was blue in the face and... No Cas."

"I had many responsibilities," Cas placated.

"When you two are done bitching like an old married couple," Sam sneered, "I'll be researching."

"Bite me," Dean pitched with little bite.

Dean followed Cas into the main room of the bunker. Their hands bumped constantly. It was like a tiny cattle prod to his pants. Cas took a seat across from Sam and they put their shackled hands on the table.

"Cas-" Sam started.

"Here," Cas said, cutting him off and pulling a piece of paper out of a book he had been using last night. Dean saw that Cas had already drawn all the symbols from the cuffs. Labeled the parts he knew, noting origin.

"Awesome," Sam said, taking the paper. "So, what has you puzzled?"

"These," Cas pointed to three. "The symbols are Enochian. But there are changes made to them. These are what has me confused."

"Huh," Sam huffed. "So... Search the books?"

"So it would seem."

"Uh," Dean complained. Research was his least favorite aspect of what they did. Besides the occasional torture or death, of course.

Cas reopened the book he had been on last night. Sam handed Dean a book. But doing this left handed was annoying. Occasionally he forgot, yanking Castiel's arm.

The day drug on. Cas could sit and plug away endlessly. But Dean was getting antsy. He kept interrupting Cas to go to the bathroom, get a snack, change books.

"Seriously?" Dean grouched out, unable to contain himself.

"Dean," Cas said with little patience, "take a nap."

"I'm not tired! I'm restless! I'm goin nuts!" He shook their shackled hands as a blatant reminder.

Cas reached over and touched Dean's forehead and he was out. Cas lowered him to the table.

"Oh, whoa!" Sam laughed, "I would not want to be tied to that when he wakes up."

"Hmmm," Cas thought. "Too late now. Keep looking."

One hour to the second, Dean sat up. He yawned, rubbing his eyes, pulling Castiel's arm.

Dean looked at the open book he was sleeping on. His brow furrowed. Slowly, he looked at Cas with a glare.

Sam immediately got up to leave.

"You son of a bitch," Dean growled.

"Sorry," Cas said, not looking up from his book.

Castiel's eyes widened as Dean grabbed him up by his t-shirt, turning him to face him. "Do it again? You and me are gonna have problems."

Dean felt bad when Cas flinched. It wasn't that long ago that he damn near killed the Angel. It had taken every thread of will-power he had to not kill him. He let go of Cas and rubbed his own face.

Cas turned back to his book. Looking thoroughly scolded.

"Sorry," Dean muttered, bumping the shackled hand next to him.

"No. It was wrong," Cas said.

"Look," Dean said, waiting for Cas to meet his eyes. Their eyes locked and Dean pulled back a fraction. "Don't zap me for anything unless I give you permission. Got it?"

"Got it," Cas said low and quiet.

Dean sighed as the Angel went back to his book. Dean pursed his lips in annoyance. One touch and his cock jumped, but Cas, good ole faithful Cas, just kept on reading.

Another three hours slipped by. Cas sat up, squinting in thought.

"What is it?" Dean asked, noting the action immediately.

"Well... I could be wrong... but look at this symbol, then look at ours."

Dean leaned closer to Cas, tilting the book. Sam came over too, looking over their shoulders.

"See how they are similar. But if you cross reference it with this... This line is used the same way, only quite different."

"So, it means what?" Dean squinted.

"This particular symbol means to connect on a subatomic level. But with this line disjointed...like this symbol it could mean temporary, or to disconnect with a command, or..." Cas ran his hand through his hair, making it ruffled and adorable.

"Yeah," Sam said, tipping his head in thought. So Angel and... These symbols are what?"

"From a Norse god."

"Angels and gods," Dean sighed. "We know a guy like that."

"But," Castiel shook his head gently, "Loki and Gabriel are,"

"Dead?" Dean supplied. "We've had stranger things happen."

"Maybe." Cas had a soft look of hope in his eyes. "It would be...so good to see him again."

Sam and Dean exchanged a less enthusiastic glance.

"So," Dean tugged the Angel's shackle, "how can we find him?"

"I don't know," Cas said quietly. "It would be too dangerous to use Angel radio."

The three exchanged a look of stalemate.

Dean's cellphone broke the void.

"Hey Garth," Dean answered.

"Okay. Well, I'm a little tied up right now but Sammy can give you a hand. Sure thing."

"Where am I going?" Sam asked, standing.

"Garth had a mishap with a shape shifter in Oklahoma. Needs some back up."

Sam hesitated, "You two gonna be alright?"

"We'll live. Unless we don't." Dean accidentally yanked Castiel's hand while putting his hands behind his head and Cas glared at Dean.

"Yeah, okay," Sam said, leaving to pack.

Sam left a few minutes later and an awkward silence fell on the bunker.

Cas leafed through another book.

"So..." Dean drawled, feeling antsy again, "now what?"

Cas looked into his eyes and Dean pulled back from the depths of them.

"We keep looking," Cas stated.

"For what!" Dean stood, pulling on the shackle and groaning.

Cas did a double-take at Dean and sighed. "I don't know but we can't just stay this way."

"Come on," Dean groused, "I gotta eat."

"Again!" Cas snapped.

"I gotta do something! I can't keep sitting here!"

Cas stood, pulling on the shackle, making Dean stagger a step.

Dean turned an annoyed look at him.

"Stop pulling me around like a dog."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Touchy."

Cas gave him a look full of something Dean could not read.

"Feeling frustrated, Cas?"

"Quite. Aren't you?"

"Nah," Dean grinned. "I kinda like it."

Cas flushed a light pink.

Dean laughed and proceeded to drag Cas to the kitchen.