The big party day approaches! What will the big nurprise be? Will it all go according to Cas's plan? On with the show...

Chapter 23

The credits were rolling. Dean sighed and wriggled, easing his stiff muscles. He hadn't seen the end of the movie. Or maybe most of the middle.

"How long have I been out?"

"Since they nearly got squashed in the trash compactor." Cas rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"That long? I am such a lightweight."

"I don't remember Darth Vader killing Obi Wan."

"Oh, well, at least you got a bit further. It's a good thing we weren't watching anything new."

"Maybe we'd stay awake if the movie was unfamiliar. Shall we go to bed? You'll want to be well-rested for tomorrow."

"Yeah. In a minute." Dean squirmed around on his recliner to face Cas. "Hey. I know - bowling. It's a bowling party. Is it?" He'd find out tomorrow - tomorrow! But Dean still couldn't stop his itchy, excited instinct to pester.

Cas squirmed around toward Dean, so that their faces were nice and close and it felt more cosy. "You know I won't say."

"Or maybe paintball - one of those places where they set you loose in a forest and you shoot each other." The image this conjured up wasn't that of a lighthearted party. "Or, not. Definitely not. That's too much like hunting. You haven't booked paintball, have you, Cas?"

His angel pinched up his lips and twisted them around thoughtfully. "No. And I know that I said I wouldn't confirm or deny anything, but I think it's only fair to say there'll be no paintballing. I wouldn't trust some of the… let's be kind and say 'less well-balanced' hunters not to forget and use their real guns."

"Good. That's good. You've invited everyone, though? All the hunters? You just gave that away - you gave something away, Cas!"

"Yes. Everyone's coming who can make it. They all want to see you, Dean."

"Awesome." And it would be awesome. If Cas had planned something active, to keep everyone on the move - wear them out like little kids - there'd be less time for the usual deep-dives into whiskey bottles and maudlin reminiscences, which were inevitable when a group of hunters got together. Dean wanted a happy day.

The credits carried on rolling. He snuggled closer to Cas. Why hadn't they put the slanket on? Oh, yeah, because Cas said it'd be too cosy and they'd fall asleep. Huh.

Maybe it wasn't an active party, though. Maybe Cas had taken a different approach. "Are we going to the cinema? And then on somewhere else to have burgers. That'd be cool."

Cas nibbled his lower lip.

"What? Is that it?"

His angel frowned and stared down at their joined hands. "That does sound like a good idea, Dean. Because I'm just wondering if what I've organised is the right thing."

"Oh. Really? Well, I bet whatever nurprise you've got planned is gonna be awesome. I trust you, Cas."

"Hmm."

"Seriously, what's up?"

"It's just… you've been struggling recently. You know - your leg. Well, both of them. Your shoulder. Other things." His eyes opened very wide on one of those trademark bluer-than-blue looks. "I don't want you to hurt yourself even more, Dean."

"Oh." Maybe the tame seniors' dinner dance would be on the cards after all. "But, if you've planned something… energetic - well, I like stuff like that. Don't change it now. You've been so excited about it - all secretive and kinda shiny."

Cas's lip was getting a good nibbling. Dean pulled his hand away and kissed his fingers before he ended up chewing off bits of skin.

"It was a good idea," Cas said. "Just the kind of thing you like. And I don't think you'd ever guess."

An unsettling thought occurred. "It's not a Plucky Pennywhistle's is it? 'Cause much though I like to wind Sammy up about clowns, even I find those places freaky."

"It's not a Plucky Pennywhistle's, Dean. I don't think they have them for adults anyway."

"Bet they do. Somewhere."

"Anyway, if I stick with what I've booked for you, you must promise me not to overdo it. Will you promise me, Dean? To take care and not injure yourself?"

"That's hard to do, sight unseen. I mean, I don't know what I'm getting into here."

Cas's eyes were pleading and there was genuine worry in their depths.

Dean kissed him. "I promise, Cas. I'll do my best not to mess myself up."

"Thank you, Dean." Cas kissed him back. "Bed?"

"Yeah." Dean didn't feel sleepy any more. And he had had a nice long nap. He fluttered his fingers in amongst Cas's. "So, uh… maybe we could, um…" He trailed away. And scratched his jaw. And rubbed his chin.

"Dean. If you want sex, you can just tell me."

A bright flush of heat rose up from Dean's neck and spread across his cheeks. And other places. "Jeez, Cas, you have no filters, do you?"

"No. You have enough for both of us." His angel sat up abruptly, clicked his section of the recliner back into place and jumped to his feet, jerking Dean's hand upward. "Come on. Let's have sex. Now."

Dean was glad he had on loose sweatpants rather than jeans, because things would've been uncomfortably restricting all of a sudden. His heart sped up and his skin tingled. But… his shoulder twinged with sudden tension and the back of his neck tightened up.

"You mean, uh, like…" His neck ached as he ducked his head. "Full-on sex?" He wanted it and he didn't. He wanted to give it. He wanted to get it. But he also wanted to run and hide. I'm so fucking messed up - still.

Then Cas was crouching in front of him and pushing Dean's chin up with that soft-and-gentle touch of fingers under his chin. It felt like he was always using that move, just to get Dean to meet his eyes, to meet the soft smile and the acceptance, plain and simple, of everything Dean was - the good, the bad and the fucking messed up.

"Whatever you want, Dean. Whatever you need. And nothing else."

"What about what you want?"

"I want you. Just as you are."

The tension drained away. Dean let himself be pulled to his feet and folded up in Cas's arms. And then he held Cas's hand out of the Treehouse, up the stairs and into their bedroom.

Cas drove, which meant a mix of Beyoncé, Taylor Swift and, Cas's most recent discovery, Lana del Rey. Dean, sitting shotgun, tried unsuccessfully not to hum or tap along to the music.

They left Lebanon behind and headed north.

North, north - what was up that way? What venues were up there, big enough to house a whole crowd of hunters, interesting enough to keep them out of trouble? Dean's fingers tapped against his legs. He bit his lip and clicked his tongue and then his ear was itchy and then his nose and then his legs were twitchy and wouldn't keep still.

"Relax, Dean. You'll know soon enough."

"Relax? You've gotta be kidding. I've been building up to this for weeks."

Cas glanced at him, with a frown. "You've enjoyed it, though, haven't you? The 'nurprise'?" Cas's fingers twitched on the wheel - but resisted the air quotes, which was good, because Dean really wanted both of them to get to his party in one piece, not to mention Baby.

"Yeah. Of course I have. It's just…" His hands clenched into tight fists. "So close, man! So damn close!"

Cas grinned. "Think about something else."

"Oh, yeah, I'll do that, then! Easy." The windshield spun crazily with Dean's rolling eyes.

"Think about this morning," said Cas, softly, so that he could barely be heard above the growl of the engine. "Think about waking up, and then…"

Yeah. He'd woken in the dark, with Cas's lips on his and then a throaty, whispered, "Happy Birthday, Dean," breathed warm and damp into his ear. And he wasn't sure how he was going to get through all of today's well-wishes today, if each time someone said those words he thought about what Cas had done next.

His kisses had travelled along Dean's jawline and briefly visited his lips, where Dean tried to hold Cas for a while, but his angel wouldn't be diverted, and he'd sucked and licked his way over Dean's chin and down his throat and then pushed up his shirt so he could give Dean's chest, his nipples, his stomach the same slow, careful, gently nipping, softly tasting treatment.

And then… then he'd run his fingers around the waistband of Dean's shorts and slowly, slowly pulled them down - and a few months ago, Dean would have freaked. He wouldn't have been able to stay there and just take it - take the pleasure that was offered to him, the pleasure that his body could give him under the caring touch of his very male lover. His mind would have screamed wrong, wrong, wrong - and still that voice was there, deep down inside him. But the voice that said right was stronger. The voice that said good was firm. The voice that said this is who you are, and that's okay was growing in confidence, and it echoed not just with Cas's love but with Dean's love too. Because you have to love yourself, don't you? Dean didn't think he'd ever realised or truly believed that before. But now he was learning to be true to himself, to love himself, just as Cas loved him - for who he really was.

And Cas had loved him this morning - loved him with slow, wet licks and soft, engulfing heat and an aching contrast of callus-fingered touch.

Dean groaned.

Cas chuckled. "Successful distraction?"

"Huh, yeah. Maybe a bit too successful. We got time to pull over?"

"No."

Cas's eyes remained on the road. But their corners crinkled, his lips pursed and his eyebrows waggled up and down. "Save it for later."

They reached Hastings, a city with a small-town feel that Dean had passed through many times and sometimes stopped at to eat, or once to carry out a routine salt-and-burn at one of the cemeteries.

Cas skirted the city centre and headed west until they came to an uninspiring industrial park. There was the usual collection of signs at the entrance, mostly for manufacturing businesses and storage facilities - and one sign in bright red with an exclamation point. Dean didn't catch what it said. He screwed himself around in his seat and ducked down, but the sign was hidden.

"Cas…"

"Nearly there, Dean."

They wove through grey box-buildings and parking lots and more grey boxes.

"Cas…" So close, so close!

And there it was. Another parking lot. Another big, grey box-building. But this one was splashed right across with massive letters in bright, glowing red, finishing with a gigantic exclamation point. The word read, simply - Boing!

"Cas? What the…?"

Cas was beaming as he parked the Impala, his eyes bright, reflecting Dean's excitement.

"Oh! Hey… It's- Is this one of those- one of those trampoline places?"

His angel brought the car to a halt, switched off the engine and said, simply, "'Boing!" Air quotes included.

"Yes!" Dean grabbed Cas around his face and brought him in for a hard, messy kiss ending in a loud, wet smack. "Awesome. That's awesome, Cas. I said it'd be awesome, didn't I? And it is. You're awesome. I love you, Cas!"

Dean kissed him again and would have carried on but a firm rap on the window and a brisk enquiry interrupted them.

"Hey, boys! Am I going to have to take you in for public indecency?" Sheriff Jody Mills smirked at them, her hazel eyes amused.

"Jody!" Dean was out of the Impala in a second, grabbing the Sheriff in a bear hug, which she returned enthusiastically.

"Hey, long time no see, Dean." She held him at arms' length and surveyed him, her eyes and mouth softening. Dean wondered what she saw. "You're looking good, Dean. Real good." There was so much genuine affection in her voice.

The usual embarrassed heat flooded over him, whenever it seemed like people actually liked or cared about him - him, Dean Winchester, to whom family and those he'd made his family were so important, and yet he'd never quite been able to believe that they needed and wanted him as much as he needed and desperately wanted them.

He ducked his head, running the heel of his hand around his jaw and scrubbing the back of his neck, feeling the scratch of his short beard and then the longer, flopping hair. He'd get some shit about his new look today, that was for sure. But Jody seemed to like it.

She hugged him again. "Happy Birthday, Dean."

"Thanks."

A hand slid into his.

"Hey, Castiel," said Jody. "This was a great idea. And it looks like we're getting a good turn-out."

There were more vehicles pulling into the parking lot - a mix of beat-up old pick-ups, tired saloons covered in road dirt, and some flashier models that looked like they might have been 'borrowed' for the occasion. And milling about in front of the entrance, beneath the massive red lettering, was a growing crowd, mostly dressed in the usual mix of hunter's flannel and jeans, camo, fishing vests and the odd tactical vest. There were one or two splashes of colour amongst them, but mostly they looked ready for action - a battle… maybe a riot? Or at the very least a pretty full-on protest march.

The low rumble of the crowd fell as a crusty voice raised and a peak-capped figure started yelling above them. "Now, this ain't no hunt we've got going on here! You all got that? This is supposed to be a friendly, happy, and above all safe party for our boy Dean who's lurking over there looking like he wishes the ground would swallow him up. Get your ass over here, Dean!"

All eyes were upon him.

"Come on, Dean." Cas tugged his hand.

Bobby continued. "So, I'm only gonna say this once- No, forget that - I'm gonna say it as many times as it takes to get it through your thick skulls! No Weapons! And that means everything - everything stays outside. Guns, knives, little iddy-biddy stilettos you've got hidden in your hair or down your boot or in your heel or… wherever - I know all the places. So all you idjits who've come packing - get rid of 'em - right the hell now! And don't you think I won't be checking!"

There was a brief pause as Bobby's words hung in the air. And then almost all of the crowd shiftily slunk back to their vehicles and began sliding their personal weaponry out of their clothing and packing it safely away.

Dean grinned. "Hunters. You gotta love 'em."

Trampolines! Dean's going to have so much fun! But, hang on... isn't that a recipe for disaster, with all those hunters?