Lol pie kink. That's all I'm saying about this (slightly short, sorry) chapter.
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Dean doesn't move for the rest of the film. Not away from me, not at all. He holds his tense pose for several minutes before finally relaxing a little and giving a few more weak chuckles at the funny parts of the film. His hands stay stiff on his thighs and he doesn't look at me again, although I glance at his profile a few times. He's so close and the light from the television plays across his features, catching dully in his eyes.
The film finishes and Dean claps his hand together once, angling away from me to face Sam, although he still doesn't actually move from the spot. He speaks enthusiastically about the movie to his brother and I linger a moment more before climbing off of the bed, away from his warmth. Dean's voice falters and he shoots me a glance, putting one hand down on the bed where I was sitting, but in an instant the moment is gone and so is his hand and he's chatting to Sam again, tone bright.
"... usually not really my kinda stuff but I guess the Brits can be funny too."
"Yeah, I've watched a lot of the stuff Charlie's recommended and I gotta say I do like most of it. Just thought you'd probably enjoy this one. There's another one called 'Shaun of the Dead' which is pretty good too, same two guys in it, same director. Hey Cas, d'you like the movie?"
Both men look expectantly at me where I stand awkwardly by the bed. I nod with a smile. "Yes, I enjoyed the character development and the subversion of accepted stereotypes."
Sam nods thoughtfully as Dean rolls his eyes.
"Nerd," he says cheerfully, standing up from the bed too with a slight stretch that reveals a strip of flat stomach. He shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes settling on me, something like anticipation lurking in the verdant depths. "Anyone for dessert?"
Sam shrugs but I smile widely, knowing that dessert means sweet which means sugar which means my favourite type of flavour, even after the delicious pasta. I'm not hungry but not too full to eat either. I nod enthusiastically and Dean grins as he leads Sam and me out of the room.
"Lucky for you two," he says in a teasing tone as we near the kitchen, "I stopped by the bakery earlier."
An extremely pleasant aroma reaches my nose and I close my eyes to inhale it. Sam sighs from behind me. "You bought pie."
"I bought pie!" Dean crows gleefully, gesturing for us to sit at the table as he dons oven mitts and opens the oven door. He pulls out a large, round pie and begins to cut it up, serving it onto small plates. The filling is a vibrant red colour. Dean is still smiling as he takes a can out of the fridge and shakes it.
"Whipped cream? Seriously?" Sam chuckles. Dean winks at him.
"Don't laugh, Sammy, I have had some mighty good times with whipped cream."
His eyes flicker to me as he pulls the cap off of the can, but he looks away quickly. I know from his suggestive tone that he's making some sort of sexual reference. I frown as I watch him squirt cream onto each plate, wondering how whipped cream might be involved in a sexual scenario. I'm so distracted by this thought that I barely notice as Dean sets my plate down in front of me and sits at the head of the table, watching me expectantly.
"Is whipped cream an aphrodisiac?" I ask as I pick up my fork. I'm not sure why I'm so interested in this. Dean's eyebrows shoot upwards and he flushes, looking at Sam as if for help. Sam grins at me.
"No, Cas. Some people like to, uh, eat food off of their lovers. Whipped cream is a popular choice. It's kinda the ultimate combo for Dean: pie and sex."
I nod thoughtfully even as Dean splutters at his brother. "I have never eaten actual pie off of anyone!"
"Yeah, you'd like to though, you kinky bastard" retorts Sam. Dean relents with a grin, shrugging. I watch them with a smile but my mind is tugging at me with vague, half-formed images of that stomach I glimpsed earlier, with a neat dollop of whipped cream on it. Skin feeling a little heated, I scoop up some cream on my fork and bring it to my tongue, closing my eyes to test it, trying not to imagine what Dean's skin might taste like beneath it instead of the cold metal of the fork. The cream tastes soft and sweet and altogether lovely. I make a sound of approval and open my eyes to find Dean's green gaze boring into mine, his lips parted and his pupils enormous. I swallow and become aware of a throbbing sensation in my crotch. Again? Well, shit. That didn't take much. Surely this is a cumbersome design flaw for human males? My father had a cruel sense of humour.
"Damn, this is good pie," Sam interrupts the silent, tense stare-off obliviously around a mouthful of dessert. "Apple still beats cherry though."
Dean looks away and I inhale steadily, relieved that the stirrings in my jeans haven't developed further. He snorts at Sam, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
"As if. Cherry is the best. Sorry it's not warmer, I had to put the oven on a timer so it's been off for like an hour."
"Nah, it's fine..."
As they speak, I'm gathering up a forkful of pie, eager to try some. I know that this is Dean's favourite food, so it must be pretty good. I bite the pie off the fork.
"Oh, fuck," I moan thickly. Sam turns shocked eyes onto me and Dean leans an elbow on the table, covering his face with his hand and mumbling something unintelligible. I smile as I chew. It's incredible. It's the best thing I've tasted so far, for sure.
"Um, Cas?" Sam's amused voice pulls me back to conscious thought and I open my eyes, not having realised that I closed them. He's smirking at me. "Orgasmic, huh? I guess you and Dean both have a pie kink."
I look across at Dean and he's bright red, staring at me with his hand still covering the lower half of his face. He removes it at Sam's words and scowls at his brother, fists clenched on the table. "Dude, what the hell?"
Sam shrugs, eyes dancing. "Just sayin', I have never heard Cas swear before so he must really like pie. You should be happy! Another member for your fan club."
I've been shovelling more pie into my mouth as I watch them argue back and forth, revelling in the warmth and the flaky sweetness of the pie crust and the sharp, tangy burst of the cherries with the sugary sauce soothing it all. I'm careful not to moan again; it seemed to upset or offend Dean somehow. I try some with the whipped cream and it's delicious. Everything is delicious.
"Dean, you were so right about pie," I tell him fervently as I scoop up the last of it from my plate. He looks at me and gives a quick grin. He's barely halfway through his.
"I know," he chuckles, shoulders relaxing and eyes softening. Sam finishes up his pie as I do and he stretches as he stands up.
"I'm off to bed, guys," he announces, grabbing his plate. "See you in the morning. Hopefully Kevin gets back tomorrow."
Dean nods as he chews his pie and I wish Sam a good night's sleep, yawning around the words. Sam smiles tiredly and leaves the room, echoing my yawn. I watch Dean eat up the last of his pie, feeling content and pleasantly sleepy. It's hard to believe that there might be any nightmares tonight. I want to be sure, though.
"Dean," I say softly as Dean swallows his last mouthful and pushes his plate away, making satisfied noises and nodding appreciatively. He looks at me expectantly. "Dean, could I sleep in your bed again tonight?"
Dean's smile disappears and he looks oddly frightened, then defensive. He shifts in his chair and looks away.
"No," he bites out, picking up his plate and standing abruptly. I'm shocked at the way the little word strikes out at me, tearing at my breath and causing my happiness to dissolve into hurt. Dean glances at me, at my unguarded face and how it's fallen, and frowns heavily.
"Shit, Cas, don't look at me like... OK, look, compromise. You sleep in your bed but if you have a nightmare, you can come to my room. Only if. Alright?"
He looks so tense and I wonder miserably if having me sleep beside him was really that unpleasant for him. He slept in the same bed as Lisa for a year, so it must be about me personally rather than about having to share his bed space. I nod slowly and mutter my thanks, silently vowing that I won't go to his room tonight or any other night, not if he hates it this much. A feeling of humiliation begins to set in and it burns high in my stomach, my skin turning cold. I stare at my plate as I stand up and I hear Dean sigh.
"Cas don't get mad at me. It... it's just another personal space thing. You're still learning. It's OK."
I do feel a little better and I raise my eyes to meet his small smile. We wash the dishes quickly and then head to the bathroom, where Dean takes me through the steps of brushing my teeth again. Then he claps me on the shoulder and he's gone.
I use the toilet again - it's my least favourite part of being human, at least while I'm awake - and head to my room, taking off everything but my boxers and neatly folding my clothes to leave them on top of the chest of drawers. I stare at them for a moment, remembering the way Dean folded my coat when he thought I was dead, keeping it with him, not forgetting me. The coat in question is in the laundry right now along with everything else I wore as an angel. I wonder if I'll ever wear it again. It was sort of like a uniform, along with the suit and the tie. A uniform that no longer applies to me. I tilt my head back and take a deep breath. I have to learn how to stop getting emotional about the slightest thing.
Pulling on Dean's Metallica shirt again, I climb into the cold bed and turn out the lamp. The dark presses in on me but that's not what pokes at the fear coiled inside me. I close my eyes, wishing that I still had any friends in Heaven so that I might pray for a night free from terror. Surely it was just a reaction to becoming human. Surely it won't happen that badly again. Surely...