#cheap motel by senashenta

[senashenta]

Cheap Motel

Title: Cheap Motel

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex. Just. All the sex.

Summary: Almost nine months ago, Dean and Cas met in the cafeteria at Caspar High and the rest was history. They fell in love, they fought monsters together—and then Dean’s dad yanked him off to the next job, leaving Cas behind. Now, Dean and Cas meet up for the first time in seven long months of being apart, of texting and phone calls and video chats, to try to make up for lost time and stock up memories over the course of a too-short weekend in a cheap motel in Amarillo, Texas.

Notes: To anyone coming into this blind, I highly recommend that you read Horror High before this fic or Cheap Motel won’t make a lick of sense. :D

I said I was going to wait two weeks to post Cheap Motel, but then I got impatient and now I’m posting it a week early! :D (I’ll post the next one next week, I guess.)

It’s literally just 34 pages of 12-point Arial font worth of smut. Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas, same as Horror High was. Sorry, that’s just how I like them. Just… just get used to Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas from me (mostly) if you like my SPN writing, it’s going to be a theme. Not that almost anyone DOES like my SPN writing, but you know, just a warning.

I arbitrarily decided that Dean was travelling from Sacramento, California and since Cas was still in Jacksonville, Florida, I just picked a city that was kind of in-between the two. Hence, Amarillo, Texas. I also actually looked up how long it would take to drive from Jacksonville to Amarillo, and google told me 20 hours, so since Cas is taking the bus, I added on 4 hours for stops and layovers. See me doing actual research?

I know nothing about Amarillo, Texas, I have never been there, so almost everything is just made up, same as all the Jacksonville stuff was made up in Horror High. They do have a botanical garden, though! Anyway, I am Canadian, and I am poor, so I can’t afford to travel to all these places for research, even though I would love to. :P

The whole 1426 F Street in Sacramento, California deal is actually a THING, I am a True Crime fan and it’s one of my favorites. Go look up Dorothea Puente. She’s fascinating and horrifying at the same time. If any house is haunted, hers is!

Phil’s is actually a diner that is local-ish to where I live and does, in fact, have AMAZING hamburgers/cheeseburgers. Technically they’re an hour drive away but I will MAKE THAT JOURNEY just for one of their burgers. SO GOOD. If you are ever in Penetanguishene, ON, Canada, GO THERE YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

Also, I am perfectly aware that no one is going to read this, just like no one really read Horror High, I basically just wrote it for myself. If anyone DOES read it, consider dropping me a comment and/or kudos, I thrive on feedback. Can also be read on AO3. <3

HORROR HIGH et al TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

CHEAP MOTEL By Senashenta

[Southcrest Inn, 129 Cactus Drive, room 7]

Cas looked at the brief instructions on his phone and then up at the motel in front of him. It wasn’t that he was skeptical, he knew the Winchesters chose cheap, often run-down motels to keep a low profile, it was just that the place was so very run-down. It looked like it shouldn’t even be in business anymore. Like it would blow over at the slightest breeze.

But the neon sign out from was blinking Southcrest Inn: Vacancies and there were a couple of cars in the parking lot, so Cas just hummed to himself, hiked his backpack up on his shoulder and made his way closer, down the row of rooms until he reached the one with the number seven haphazardly tacked to the door.

Cas had been on a Greyhound bus—or, rather, a series of Greyhound busses—for the last twenty-four hours. He had left Jacksonville late Thursday night, basically sneaking out of the house with nothing but a note left for his father that he was taking off for the weekend and would be back Monday night. His father wouldn’t be angry that he had ducked out for the weekend, since it was the middle of summer break and his first semester at Florida State didn’t start until September, but Cas really hadn’t wanted any safety lectures.

Now, he knocked on the door to room number seven almost hesitantly—then knocked again, louder, a minute later. When he listened carefully, he could hear movement inside, the frantic shuffling of items, and smiled to himself. He was just about to knock a third time when the door flew open and an arm shot out—a hand grabbed at the front of his shirt and he was yanked into the room, the door slammed shut behind him.

Then his backpack was pulled out of his grasp and discarded to the side, and he was shoved back against the now-closed door, a body pressing close to him and lips finding his own, kissing him hard and deep and passionately. Cas just allowed it all, kissing back in kind until a long moment later when he was finally allowed to breathe again.

Cas smiled widely at Dean. “Hi.”

Dean grinned back. “Hi, yourself.”

Cas pushed him back to arms’ length to look him over: same ripped blue jeans, same grey t-shirt, same flannel, same pendant, same adorably tousled hair, same green eyes. Nothing had changed. Good. “You’re still wearing your bracelet—ah. Cuff.” He observed, obviously pleased.

“Of course I am.” Dean ran his hand over the wrist cuff in question with a smile, “you gave it to me. It’s one of the few special things I own. I only take it off to shower.” And then, to explain; “don’t wanna ruin the leather.”

“Makes sense.” Cas’s smile widened and his grip on Dean tightened slightly—then he pulled the other man back against himself, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and tugging him in for another kiss. “I missed you.”

“Mmhm.” Dean agreed against his lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pushing Cas back against the door again. He brought his hands up to rest by Cas’s hips, kneading there restlessly before sliding his palms up the other man’s sides to his chest and farther to push Cas’s trench coat down off his shoulders.

Cas shrugged out of it easily, leaving it to fall to the floor. Then he let his hands come down to shove at the flannel overshirt Dean was wearing. “Off.”

Dean let go of him long enough to shrug out of it, then returned to letting his hands rub up and down Cas’s sides—then under his shirt, fingers dragging against his skin. Cas let his head fall back against the door and Dean dove in to kiss along his exposed throat immediately.

A soft groan and Cas swallowed thickly. “Dean, come on. Can we at least find a bed?”

“The bed here is shit.” Dean muttered, still mouthing along Cas’s neck, “prepare to be disappointed.”

“I guarantee you nothing about this will be disappointing.” Cas replied with a chuckle, even as Dean’s arms snaked around his waist and the older man pulled him away from the door, backing farther into the room, over toward the bed in question.

Cas followed along easily, ducking in for another kiss as they moved—then yelped out a surprised noise when Dean’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he tumbled backward, pulling Cas along with him. Cas landed on top of him with a laugh and ducked his head to kiss at the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean squirmed, trying to work them farther up the mattress with little success.

“Dude, get off me so we can do this right.”

“I feel like that sentence entirely contradicts itself, Dean.”

Still, Cas climbed off Dean and watched the other man shimmy his way into the proper spot on the bed before climbing back on himself, crawling over to lean over Dean for another kiss. Dean just grabbed at him and pulled Cas down on top of himself—and Cas threw a leg over his boyfriend, settling straddling his hips. He sat back and smiled down at Dean.

“This is much better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice came out the slightest bit strained and his hands rested on Cas’s thighs, kneading there restlessly. “Much better.” But then he grinned and added, “you know what they call this? The full cowgirl.” Followed by a pause before; “cowboy, I guess.”

Cas blinked down at him and just leaned down to kiss him again. “You’re talking nonsense. You often do that when we have sex.”

“I do not.” Dean protested against his lips, “you just don’t get the reference.”

“That is entirely possible.” The younger man agreed. He began tugging at Dean’s t-shirt, pushing it up as much as he could. “Take this off.”

Dean didn’t complain, instead just leaning up and tugging his shirt off, tossing it to the side before looking at Cas expectantly—Cas chuckled and pulled his own shirt over his head, getting rid of it as well, and Dean’s hands slid away from his thighs, wandering to his abdomen, then further up his torso, just feeling out his skin warmly.

Cas, meanwhile, reached to undo Dean’s jeans—though he couldn’t exactly get them off the older man sitting on him as he was. So, he lifted up onto his knees and then eased away, ending up sitting on the bed beside Dean instead. Dean absolutely pouted at him, and it was absolutely adorable.

“Just take your pants off.” Cas told him, amused.

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly shucked out of his pants and boxers, then waited while Cas finally shifted over to stand up off the bed, kicked his shoes off (finally) and then got out of his own jeans and boxers before turning around and crawling back onto the mattress, up to settle half-over Dean, leaning down to kiss him once more.

The older man brought one hand up to cup the side of Cas’s neck, holding there as he deepened the kiss—and at the same time slid his other hand down to wrap his fingers around Cas’s half-hard cock. Cas muffled a moan against Dean’s lips, hardening up the rest of the way quickly, rocking his hips into the touch. Dean gave a soft chuckle. “Just from a little touch like that?”

Cas bit at Dean’s lower lip gently and muttered, “it’s been seven months, Dean.” He had missed Dean’s touch. His own just wasn’t as… satisfactory anymore. “Did you bring stuff? Because if you didn’t, I did.”

“You mean condoms and lube?” Dean let his head fall back with a laugh and regarded Cas with obvious amusement. “Of course I did.”

“You should go get them now, Dean.” Cas rocked his hips against Dean’s hand again but followed that up by reaching down to push it away from him. He shifted back once more, this time rolling onto his back beside where Dean was laying. He looked sideways at Dean and raised his eyebrows, waiting.

While Dean hurried to get out of the bed and across the room to the dresser, Cas slid one of his hands down to stroke at his own cock, back arched slightly and breath starting to come faster. From across the room, he heard Dean curse and Cas gave a breathless laugh at the sound but didn’t stop what he was doing.

Barely a few seconds later and the mattress was dipping again as Dean climbed back into the bed. Cas didn’t open his eyes or stop stroking himself off until Dean settled over him and pulled Cas’s hand away, replacing it with his own. And it really felt so much better that way—with Dean doing the touching instead of himself.

“You’re still hot as hell.” Dean muttered against Cas’s throat, “don’t know how I got so damned lucky.”

“I—ah—feel the same way about you.” Cas gasped out—and turned his head to kiss Dean, hot and wanting, before breaking off with a moan. “God, Dean… come on…!”

But Dean was way ahead of him, already letting go of Cas’s cock and grabbing for the lubricant, slathering it on the fingers of his right hand and then tossing the tube onto the bedside table where it would be out of the way. Then he patted a hand against one of Cas’s hips, urging him to part his legs—which Cas did, easily and without question, head back and already breathing hard.

When Dean pushed the first finger into Cas’s body, Cas hissed, nearly flinched, and Dean paused, glancing up at him to comment, “you really haven’t been with anyone else since I left, have you?”

Cas gave him a look that Dean returned with a cheeky grin. “Of course not. You know I would never…” And then; “it’s just practically new again after all this time, give me a minute to adjust, Dean.”

Dean eased his finger deeper even as he slid up to look Cas in the eyes. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you and I are exclusive. Just… sometimes it’s hard to believe that someone like you would wait around for someone like me. Especially for so long.” Leaning down, he kissed Cas softly, even as he began moving his hand, gently, carefully; “I haven’t been with anyone else, either, just in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering,” Cas offered a little smile, his hips shifting slightly and one hand sliding down to palm at his own cock again. “I know you’re faithful. I trust you—ah!” A small gasp when Dean barely grazed his prostate and Cas let his head fall back, “okay, yeah, I’d almost forgotten about that…!”

“Your prostate?” Dean asked smugly.

Cas nodded, head still back—then gasped again, loudly this time, when Dean pushed a second finger into him and immediately eased deep to drag the pads of his fingers across the nerve bundle in question. Cas grabbed at the sheets with his free hand and moaned, the faint discomfort from the stretching completely forgotten now. “God, you didn’t forget where it is!”

“I have an awesome memory.” Dean chuckled, and leaned down to mouth along Cas’s exposed throat, even as he continued stretching him out, purposefully rubbing against his prostate as much as possible.

“You really do, I—oh, God, Dean!” Cas’s voice came out high and loud and it made Dean laugh against his skin. The younger man arched and panted and finally brought both hands up to grab at Dean almost desperately, “I’m ready—I’m ready! Please, Dean, just… I’m ready…!”

Dean actually had the gall to smirk and ask, “are you sure? It has been seven months…”

Cas had to bite his own lip hard to muffle a too-loud shout when Dean followed that up by a particularly good push against his sweet spot. He sucked in a shaky breath and smacked one hand against Dean’s side. “Dean, please just—fuck me already!”

Cas wasn’t known to swear very much, especially the more serious words like “fuck”, and Dean actually blinked down at him in surprise for just a moment before pulling his hand away, licking his lips absently and reaching for a condom. He ripped it open and rolled it onto his own straining dick while Cas attempted to collect himself a little, head still back and breathing hard.

Once he was ready, Dean settled himself between Cas’s legs and reached to pull Cas into a kiss, even as he pushed his cock into the other man. Cas moaned against Dean’s mouth and Dean gave a low groan in response. The two of them were still for a long moment, just breathing together—and then Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s hips and his hands slid up to grip at the back of Dean’s shoulders. “Move, Dean, ah…!”

Dean didn’t need to be told again. He ducked in to kiss Cas once more and rolled his hips, fucking himself into the younger man’s body and rocking his hips to start up a rhythm, his thrusts deep and hard—and perfect, as far as Cas was concerned; but then he didn’t think this could be anything but perfect.

For his part, Cas just dug his fingers into Dean’s back and met the older man’s thrusts with the rocking of his own hips, hot, kinetic and just this side of rough. They fucked deeply, thoroughly, in a totally full-bodied way that easily conveyed just how long they had been apart, how much they had missed each other—they kissed and touched and moved together with obvious longing.

The shitty motel bed held up, though it creaked and groaned loudly under them. It would have been comical in any other situation. For now, they both ignored it. Dean ducked to bury his face in the crook of Cas’s neck and Cas threw his head back against the pillows, gasping for air, dragging his nails down Dean’s back. Dean hissed out a curse but didn’t stop moving, biting down on Cas’s shoulder just a little more than gently in response, totally lost in the moment.

It couldn’t last forever, though. Eventually Dean eased a hand between them to start jerking at Cas’s cock along with his thrusts, and after that it was only another couple moments before Cas was coming, arching and tensing with a sharp cry, still gripping hard at Dean’s back.

When Cas tensed up, he clamped down on Dean inside him and the older man gave a grunt at the feeling, his movements getting sharper and jerky, falling out of rhythm until he tumbled over the edge as well, coming with a low moan, muffled into Cas’s shoulder. Another couple of short thrusts, almost cursory, and Dean slumped over Cas to pant by his ear with a grin. “I, ah… I definitely missed that.”

Cas gave a breathless laugh. “Me too.”

“…I think you scratched my back up.”

“Well, you bit me, so let’s call it even.”

“Mmm… yeah, I guess I can go with that plan.”

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had. We’ve ever had.”

“It must have been, you haven’t even told me to get out of you yet.”

“…Dean.”

“Okay, okay.”

-- --

Some time later, Cas found himself laying on his stomach with his arms crossed under his head, smiling at Dean, who was laying beside him, propped on his side with his head in his hand. His other hand, meanwhile, stroked up and down Cas’ bare back, just petting along his spine gently, making Cas arch into the feeling. “I told you the bed would be disappointing.” Dean commented idly.

Cas laughed. “Maybe a little.” He conceded, “but everything else was perfect.”

“Yeah, it really was, wasn’t it?” Dean continued petting along his back, the touches gentle and affectionate. Eventually he dipped to touch his fingers along the scars that striped across Cas’ ribs and commented, “these healed up nicely.”

“Mm.” Cas agreed. The wounds the jorogumo had given him had left behind two long parallel scars that ran along his ribs, from the front of his ribcage almost to his spine. They didn’t hurt anymore, though, and would fade out naturally over time. “I’m… still trying to figure out what to tell my Father.” His father hadn’t seen the marks yet, miraculously, but it was probably an inevitability, all things considered. Cas didn’t know what to tell him that didn’t involve fighting giant spider-ladies with his Hunter boyfriend. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“I don’t know, Cas, I never have to explain my scars to family members. This is outside my expertise.”

“I was afraid of that.” A tiny frown, then; “are you still angry?”

Dean looked at him for a long moment before admitting, “a little. You got hurt for me, Cas. You never should have been there.”

“But I couldn’t let you go in alone.” Cas murmured, blue eyes sharp and serious. “Without backup. That’s… you could have really gotten hurt, Dean, and the thought of that…”

“But you did get hurt!” Dean insisted, his hand resting over the scars now, kneading there restlessly; “I thought you were going to die for a minute, do you have any idea what that did to me?!”

Cas winced, glancing away. He knew. Dean loved him, and if he had died the other man would never have been the same. “I—” He began, then swallowed before finishing softly, “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I know you are, just… seeing the scars again is…” The older man trailed off, then pushed forward, shoving Cas onto his back and settling over him, a comfortable weight. Cas blinked up at him before lifting his arms to wrap them around Dean’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. When they broke apart again, Dean frowned at him and muttered, “it scared the shit out of me, Cas. Promise me you’ll never do anything stupid like that again.”

“You already made me promise that, remember?”

“Promise again.”

Cas tilted his head and kissed Dean again, just gently, then offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile; “I promise.”

Dean looked down at him appraisingly. Then he just ducked his head to kiss along Cas’s collar bone, the entire thing dismissed for now, and asked against the other man’s skin, “so, what’s with the trench coat?”, changing the topic entirely.

Cas hummed and let his head fall back, enjoying the kisses. “My Father got it for me for my birthday. I actually kind of like it.”

“You’re a weird guy.”

“I know.”

“What else did you get for your birthday?”

“Jody baked a cake,” Cas shrugged and dragged one hand up to thread his fingers into Dean’s hair, “and Charlie made me a bracelet.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when we were taking your clothes off,” Dean grinned up at him, “it’s nice.”

“They’re protection stones, she said.”

“Black tourmaline and black obsidian, mm.” He had gone back to kissing across Cas’s chest, now, the words a little muffled.

“How can you tell the difference?” Cas lifted his arm to look at the bracelet in question; it was made up of medium-sized, round, black gemstones with little blue colored spacer beads in-between—the same color as his eyes. “They all just look black to me.”

Dean shrugged. “A lifetime of training in all things spooky.”

“I guess that’s true.” Cas conceded. Dean paused to lick over one of his nipples and Cas arched into it with a soft gasp, hand flying back to Dean’s hair; “and—ah—Garth got me a kitten, he says because I look grumpy and ‘you can’t have a kitten and be grumpy.’ My Father actually let me keep it, he even got me an automatic litter box and feeder for it. That’s the only reason I could come meet up with you, because I know it’s still being fed and cleaned up after. Its’ name is Marshmallow.” Then, to clarify; “I did not name the kitten, Garth did.”

“Cats make me sneeze, but I’m sure it’s adorable.” Dean chuckled.

“Actually, Marshmallow also has a grumpy face.” Cas frowned a little, “I don’t know what Garth was thinking.”

This time Dean laughed, dropping his head to bury his face in Cas’s chest. “You’re the actual best. I know we already covered this, but you have no idea how much I missed you, Cas.”

“Jo got me a gift certificate for Magickal Things,” Cas continued on, ignoring Dean’s little outburst for now; “and Kevin got me a really interesting book on metaphysics.” Then he added, “I also got a message from you on my birthday, that was my favorite thing.” He smiled when Dean looked up at him again; “I missed you, too, Dean. So much.”

Dean leaned up for a kiss. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your birthday.”

Cas just hummed against Dean’s lips. “It’s okay. I understand. You were busy, and your job is important.”

A sigh from Dean. “I’m glad you have friends to keep you company.”

“It can be nice.” Cas admitted, “except when they want me to do social things, like go to parties. Charlie is particularly bad for that.”

A snort. “I can’t even imagine you at a party.”

“That’s what I try to tell them, but they are being purposefully deaf.”

“Hey, Cas?”

“Mm?”

Dean nuzzled into Cas’ neck just under his jaw and murmured, “I love you.”

A soft smile. “I love you, too, Dean.���

“Seven months is a long time.”

“A very long time, yes. We shouldn’t let it go so long before meeting up again.”

“This was the soonest I could get away from Dad and Sam,” Dean sighed and kissed down along Cas’ neck to his shoulder, nipping there lightly just to make him squirm. He smirked to himself when it worked.

“I know,” Cas shifted under him, one hand sliding up to rub along his side, “I didn’t even tell my Father I was coming here. I just… left. He’s going to be disappointed in me.”

Dean was working his way downward again, kissing over Cas’ clavicle to lick across a nipple once more, making the younger man gasp. “You’re technically an adult now,” he pointed out, “you can take off on your own for a weekend, it’s fine.”

“I think… ah.” Cas let his head fall back, arching against Dean’s mouth as it continued southward. “I think my Father will see it differently… especially… especially if he finds out I left to meet up with you for—for sex…!” Dean was sucking a little bruise just under his navel, and Cas grabbed at the other man’s hair for purchase, “God, Dean…!”

“You’re allowed to get laid once in a while, Cas,” Dean chuckled. He had paused to regard the small bruise he’d pulled up with self-satisfaction and ducked in to lick across it lightly. Cas slumped a bit during this apparent reprieve—only to gasp and arch a moment later when Dean’s tongue swiped over the head of his already straining dick.

This wasn’t something they had done often, yet—oral sex. Not that they didn’t both enjoy it, they just tended not to go for blowjobs when they could have the real thing. Dean had only gone down on him once before, and Cas knew he had never been with any other men that way.

But what Dean lacked in experience, in this case, he made up for in enthusiasm—he licked up along the underside of Cas’s dick, then let the tip slide past his lips as he began to suck, easing deeper as he went until he had all of Cas’s cock in his mouth and Cas was trying desperately not to writhe under him, pulling at his hair without even meaning to.

With his mouth full, Dean just grunted at the hair pulling—but allowed it, instead focusing on what he was doing, beginning to bob his head, sucking up and down Cas’s cock, swirling his tongue against the head when he was pulled off nearly all the way before sinking back down again, as deep as he could go without choking.

Dean may not have given many blowjobs in his time, but he’d received his fair share, and he really did have an awesome memory, it was true. Now he worked Cas over like a professional, slick and messy and leaving the younger man gasping for air and fighting hard against the urge to thrust himself even deeper into Dean’s plush mouth.

Instead, he brought one hand up to muffle himself a bit and pulled even harder at Dean’s hair—which finally got Dean to pull off his cock just long enough to cough out, “we’ve talked about the hair pulling thing, Cas”—and then he just dove back in, gulping Cas down and continuing to suck him off with obvious enthusiasm. Cas gasped out an apology and loosened his grip on Dean’s hair.

But his climax was building steadily, and it was only another couple of minutes before Cas came with a shout, throwing his head back and tugging at Dean’s hair again, pulling as he panted breathlessly—and then immediately released Dean to fumble for the beside table where the lube had been previously discarded, grabbing the tube with shaky fingers and shoving it down in Dean’s direction.

Dean looked up at him, still pulling off his cock, swallowing and licking his lips, and made a surprised noise. “Are you sure? You just—”

“I am fully aware that I just.” Cas replied, still breathing hard, “but you haven’t yet, and I want you inside me.”

“But—”

“Dean, please.”

Dean’s expression shifted from surprise to amusement, and he quickly reached to nick the lube from Cas’s hand. “We’re gonna be too exhausted to even go out for food later, at this rate.”

“I am completely okay with that.” Cas dropped his head back onto the pillow again, adjusting himself when Dean nudged at him to get his legs up and then swallowing a too-loud moan when the older man prodded at him gently with slicked-up fingers before just sliding two into him immediately, pushing deep with no preamble. He was still loose from earlier, apparently.

Good. That was good. Because—

Cas pushed up abruptly, sitting and reaching to shove Dean over onto his back. Dean went down with a squawk and some slight flailing, but landed with a laugh, grinning while he watched Cas sling a leg over him and settle straddling his hips. He brought his hands up to rest against Cas’s thighs and swallowed slightly. “So, this is gonna be new.”

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, then; “is it okay?”

“More than okay.” Dean continued grinning up at him… then groaned softly when Cas shifted in his lap. “Ah, Cas…”

Dean was painfully, obviously hard under him, though Cas was still recovering from coming just a couple of minutes before. Still. He could do this. So, Cas just licked his lips absently and lifted up onto his knees, reaching down to hold Dean’s cock steady before lining up and lowering himself onto it slowly. There was some stretching involved, but it was mostly a pleasant burn as he sank down over Dean with a low, breathy moan.

Once he was properly seated in Dean’s lap again, Cas took a moment, eyes closed and hands braced on Dean’s abdomen, feeling the unsteady way the older man was breathing. Dean was watching him, green gaze heated and wanting, hands kneading at Cas’s thighs restlessly.

After a brief pause, Cas opened his own eyes again, bit at his lower lip lightly, and started moving, rocking his hips in little, careful movements to begin with, testing the waters. Dean huffed out a groan but didn’t stop watching him, positively enraptured by what he was seeing. “God, Cas, you are…”

Cas’s brows drew together slightly, and he sighed out a moan, starting to rock his hips faster, more urgently, loving the feeling of Dean inside him. “I’m what…?”

“Incredible.” Dean groaned the words, and rocked his hips up against Cas’s gently, barely more than a nudge, still letting Cas set the pace despite the urge to fuck up into the younger man harder, faster. “You’re incredible.”

“So are… mmh… so are you, though… ah…!”  Cas was hard again, now, too, and shifted himself a bit to start rolling his hips instead of rocking them, lifting up on his knees a little on the forward and dropping down on the back—and suddenly Dean was moaning, having trouble keeping his eyes open to watch Cas’s movements over him.

For his part, Cas was starting to pant now, kneading his hands against Dean’s abdomen as he continued moving, his own cock throbbing against his stomach. Dean just continued holding tight to Cas’s thighs and started thrusting his hips up into Cas to meet Cas’s drops downward. Cas threw his head back with a cry and all Dean wanted to do was bite along the other man’s neck. He resisted the urge to pull Cas down and do just that.

Seeing Cas like this, completely unrestrained, entirely debauched, was almost more than Dean could take—he finally had to shut his eyes and mentally count to ten, even as he was cursing under his breath, still fucking up into Cas, because if he didn’t? He was going to come immediately and end things far too soon.

Cas’s hands finally slid against Dean’s skin, up to brace against his chest instead so he was leaning over the older man—and Dean moved his own hands to grab at Cas’s hips, fingers digging in, liable to leave little purple bruises in their wake. The motel bed was loudly protesting their movements this time, but they ignored it entirely, the creaking just mixed in with their panted moans and groans.

Arms beginning to shake slightly, Cas continued fucking himself on Dean’s cock, hard and hot, gasping out little moans with every exhale, eyes closed and fingers gripping hard against Dean’s chest… until he moved one hand down to fist his own aching dick and start to stroke, jerking himself off in time with their rhythm. It was tricky to get everything lined up, at first, but he figured out the timing quickly.

Dean had opened his eyes again, just in time to moan out a curse at the sight, and dug his nails into Cas’s hips, redoubling his thrusts up into the younger man. “Shit—Cas—!"

Cas nodded his head in agreement, mostly mutely, panting, still stroking himself and close—so close.

When he finally came, it was with a bitten-out curse, spilling sticky come all across Dean’s abdomen. But instead of collapsing immediately, Cas pushed himself back up to a proper seated position and continued rolling his hips along with Dean, panting as one hand came up to swipe his own hair back off his forehead. He was trying to catch his breath but still fucking himself on Dean’s cock, so it was proving to be a little difficult to get the oxygen.

Dean just licked his lips absently. He was so close himself that watching Cas sit back up and go right back to riding him was enough to shove him over the edge after another brief moment. He grabbed even harder at Cas’s hips to hold him still and came deep inside the other man with a low moan.

They were both still for a few seconds after that before Dean collapsed back and Cas slumped down onto him, forehead pressing into the middle of Dean’s chest. “I think…” He panted, half-muffled, “we… forgot… the condom.”

“We, ah… definitely did.” Dean rubbed one hand down Cas’s back, still breathing hard himself. “It felt fantastic… but…”

Cas nodded, his hair mussing against Dean’s chest, and after another moment he pushed himself up and lifted off of Dean, rolling to the side to sprawl out next to him instead. “Like I told you… I haven’t been with anyone else… like, ever… so…” He turned his head to look at Dean, then shuffled to tuck himself into the older man’s side. “I know you don’t… you’re not comfortable with… I mean. I know the condom thing is important to you. I’m sorry.”

Dean adjusted to let Cas settle against him, wrapping his arm around him and squeezing gently. “I think… it’s okay.” He allowed after a brief pause, then; “we’re exclusive, and I trust you. And it’s way too late now, so. There’s that.” Tipping his head, he pressed a kiss to Cas’s forehead. “No regrets with you, Cas. That’s what I’ve decided.”

“No regrets.” Cas repeated in a murmur. “Definitely.”

“Mmmmmm…!” Dean stretched a little and then trailed his fingers through the mess of come on his abdomen before bringing them up to lick at them almost absently, “so now that you’ve thoroughly fucked my brains out, how about we get cleaned up and go out for some food?”

“I think technically you were still doing the, ah… fucking.” Cas was back to hesitating over that word, much to Dean’s amusement. He watched Dean licking at his fingers almost curiously but didn’t say anything. “But yes, that sounds like a good plan to me.”

Dean didn’t move right away, eyes drifting to the ceiling—and then he grinned. “That was unbelievably hot, Cas.”

Cas shifted against his side. “I don’t know what got into me.” He muttered.

“Besides me?”

“Dean.”

“Joking, joking.” Dean rubbed a hand along Cas’s side and tipped his head to smile at him, “seriously though, I can’t believe I ever got so damn lucky. You’re smart and you’re sexy, and you love me for some reason…”

“For all the reasons.” Cas corrected him.

A laugh. “I feel the same way about you.”

“I know.” The younger man tilted his head to drop a kiss by Dean’s jaw, then pushed himself to sit up, stifling a little yawn at the same time. He’d only been there a short while and he’d already racked up three orgasms, soon he would have to take a nap—or just keep going until he just flat-out fainted. That actually wasn’t an entirely unappealing option, all things considered. Now Cas just looked down at Dean and asked, “we’re getting cleaned up for food, right? If this is going to keep happening for the next two days we’re going to need our strength.”

A chuckle and Dean grinned up at him, “you have a point, there, Cas. You definitely have a point.”

-- --

There was a diner just down the street, Phil’s, that the motel manager had apparently recommended to Dean when he had checked in the night before. Phil’s reminded Cas a lot of Maggie’s from back home in Jacksonville, minus the jukebox. It was clean, somewhat tastefully decorated, and had a typical diner menu—at least according to Dean. Cas wasn’t as up on his diner food as the other man, so he just took his word for it.

They both ordered burgers and fries. Cas ordered a cola and Dean splurged on a chocolate milkshake. He asked if they had pie and was mildly disappointed to be told that they were currently sold out; apparently it was popular.

“I’ll give you something better than pie when we get back to the motel.” Cas told him finally, when Dean continued to pout over it. Dean’s mouth immediately tilted into a smirk and Cas rolled his eyes, but allowed, “as long as you don’t steal all my fries this time.”

When their food arrived, they were both thrilled to discover that Phil’s had absolutely fabulous burgers, and not too bad fries, either. This time it wasn’t just Dean that ate with gusto, Cas nearly wolfed his food down as well, practically starving after the past few hours. Dean was privately amused at the sight—and at the reasons he knew were behind it.

“Do you still get that ringing in your ears?” Dean asked around a bite of burger. “Tin… whatever.”

“Tinnitus.” Cas looked up from his fries with his eyebrows pinched together slightly. “And yes. That’s what the doctors call it, anyway. From hitting my head. But it sounds more like… voices, whispering. To me. But I can’t quite make out what they’re saying.” A frown and he sighed, “when I told my Father, he said it was angels talking to me. Called it Angel Radio. I think he thought he was being funny, but…”

“You didn’t get the ha-ha.” Dean finished for him.

“Exactly,” Cas agreed, flicking a fry across his plate. He shrugged and took another large bite of his burger, almost finished it already. “It comes and goes,” He continued, mouth half-full, “so it’s not so bad, but it’s really annoying when it is around. Almost painful sometimes. Not something to joke about.”

“You know Chuck means well, right? He probably just doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he jokes.”

“I know. That’s why I haven’t said anything to him.”

Dean took a drink of his milkshake and asked, “did the doctors say, is there anything they can do about it?”

Cas shook his head and shoved a couple of fries in his mouth. He was finally starting to slow down on the food, though. “Mm-mm,” He made a soft negative noise, “once you’ve got tinnitus, you’re pretty much stuck with it. Apparently, you can take antidepressants, anti-anxiety medication or sometimes antihistamines to make it more bearable, but I don’t want…” He shifted in his seat and shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of possibly dulling myself like that, you know?”

“I get it.” Dean finished off the last of his burger, watching quietly for a moment as Cas did the same—and then reached over to filch a couple of fries from Cas’s plate despite his earlier promise. He’d already finished his own. Cas allowed it. “Sucks, though. At least it’s not all the time.”

A nod and Cas picked at his fries for another minute before just pushing the plate across to Dean with a smile. The older man made short work of the few fries that were left, then returned to his milkshake, which was only half gone. They were both quiet for a couple of minutes and then:

“You’ve got more scars now than you did when you left Jacksonville.” Cas observed with a frown, “four more. I counted them earlier.”

Dean nodded, “yeah, it’s been a rough few months.”

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

The older man rubbed at one shoulder—one of the new scars was there—almost absently. “I’m always okay, Cas.”

“I don’t think that’s true. But I know you don’t want to worry me.” Cas gave him a little smile, “so, what were you in Sacramento for?”

“Ghost thing.” Dean shrugged, then leaned forward and lowered his voice; “you ever hear of Dorothea Puente, 1426 F Street?” And when Cas shook his head because obviously, he hadn’t, Dean chuckled and told him, “let’s just say that house is really freaking haunted.” Then he added, “but Dad and Sammy are taking care of it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“What did your Dad say about you taking off?”

“He wasn’t happy, but then again I didn’t give him much of a choice.” A grin, “he really doesn’t like my new attitude, when it comes to you.”

“You’re being insubordinate.” Cas chuckled and shook his head, then smiled when Dean reached across the table to take hold of one of his hands. He threaded their fingers together and squeezed gently. “Thank you for being insubordinate for me, Dean.”

“I keep telling you,” Dean squeezed his hand back, “anything for you, Cas. And I mean it. Anything.”

And wasn’t that a wonderous thing? That someone like Dean Winchester was so devoted to him. Willing to do anything for him. Despite Dean’s assurances in the past, Cas still didn’t see himself as special—certainly not special enough to deserve that kind of attentiveness from someone so obviously out of his league. But he didn’t say any of that out loud—he knew Dean didn’t like when he thought like that.

“Really,” Dean said after a moment of just looking at each other, a smitten little smile on his face, “we’re not waiting another seven months before we meet up again. Seven months was ridiculous. It was way too long not seeing you.”

Certainly, they had texted every day, and talked on the phone routinely, and even video called on the computer maybe once a week, but that just wasn’t the same as being able to touch either other, kiss each other, hold each other’s hands. The physical closeness had been desperately missed by both of them, and that fact was painfully obvious.

“It was the soonest you could get away,” Cas reminded him gently, “you can only get away when things with the Hunting are quieter, right? So, I mean… I understand.” Then a pause before; “doesn’t mean I like it, but I do understand.” Glancing down slightly, Cas offered a little smile of his own, “before this it would have been difficult for me to get away, too, because of school. My Father would never have let me take off and miss classes. But it’s summer break now, so I think I might get away with it. Once college starts up in the fall…” A shrug: “it’s easier to skip a couple of days of college than it is to skip high school. They don’t call your parents, for one…”

“I almost forgot about college.” Dean’s smile brightened and he squeezed Cas’s hand again, “Theology, right?”

“Mm, with a minor in World Religion and Folklore. Florida State.” Cas agreed, “I was going to go for a double major, but I decided against it at the last minute. Two majors is a lot to take on at once.”

“You wouldn’t catch me doing it, that’s for sure.” The older man chuckled, “where are you going to live while you’re going to school? At home?”

Cas shook his head. “No, the commute is too far. So, the dorms, at least at first. I’m hoping to get a place of my own after first year.” He paused then, blinking as he suddenly realized something; “Marshmallow can’t come with me to the dorms, can he? Father is going to have to take care of him for me until I have my own place…”

“He’s not going to like that?”

“He won’t be, um… enthused. But I think he’ll do it. He won’t make me get rid of my cat just because I’m going to school. I think.” Frowning to himself, he muttered, “I don’t know, maybe Garth can take him back for a while if Father refuses? I really hadn’t thought of this…”

Dean laughed, “Chuck’s not heartless, Cas, I think your cat will be fine.”

Dean had a point. He was probably spinning his wheels about nothing at all. Cas sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, once I’m safely in Tallahassee, getting away to meet up with you should be easier. No one will be hovering over me wondering what I’m doing and where I’m going, you know?”

An agreeing noise from Dean, who finally took his hand back to finish off his milkshake before pulling out his wallet, fishing enough cash for the meal—and a tip—out and dropping it on the table. Then he scooted out of the booth and stepped around to pull Cas to his feet as well.

“Have you ever been to Amarillo before, Cas?”

Cas blinked at him, “actually, no.” Not even in all his traveling for his father’s job. “Why?”

“Why don’t we just go for a walk for a bit?”

Cas looked out the window for a moment, almost absently. The sun was starting to go down, so the heat would be dissipating, it might actually be nice. Besides, he had pleasant memories of just wandering the streets of Jacksonville with Dean on their first-and-only Real Date, it would be nice to do it again, even if it was in a strange city. And he did have his cell phone on him in case they got lost, like last time.

Finally, he smiled at Dean and nodded. “That sounds nice, actually.”

They headed outside together, at which point Dean caught his hand again, holding it loosely in his own as they walked. Cas just enjoyed the warm feeling in his chest that resulted from the action and squeezed Dean’s hand gently. “Have you ever been to Amarillo, before, Dean?”

“Mm,” Dean agreed, “a while back on a case.”

“What were you Hunting?”

“Chupacabra.”

Cas blinked because chupacabra were real, too. “Is there anything that isn’t real?”

“Bigfoot.” Dean grinned sideways at him, then amended, “I mean. To my knowledge.”

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me or not right now.”

Dean laughed at that. “Just assume I’m teasing you, Cas. Just always assume I’m teasing you.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you, Cas.”

“…yeah, I love you, too.”

-- --

When they got back to the motel it was nearly midnight and they basically fell in the door, barely managed to lock it behind themselves, and collapsed into the creaky bed. It had been a long day, especially for Cas, who had gone straight from a twenty-four hour bus ride into a sex marathon, and after eating and walking about town for a while both of them were well and truly done.

They at least had the energy and presence of mind to strip down to their boxers and brush their teeth before crashing for the night, cuddled up together, limbs tangled and not even caring that they were in possibly the shittiest motel in the country.

Cas’s schedule had him spending three nights there with Dean—Friday, Saturday and Sunday—though the third night barely counted because he had to be up and at the bus station at the crack of dawn to catch the first of many busses back to Jacksonville. But three nights were good. They were enough, he had thought, at least for now, especially after going so long without seeing Dean at all—except through a computer screen.

When Cas woke up in the morning it was after a night with no nightmares—the No Nightmares With Dean Around streak continued—and to Dean’s breath, soft on the back of his neck, the other man’s arm draped heavy across his waist. Cas took a while to just soak it in, eyes closing back over and enjoying how relaxed he was, the feeling of Dean being in the bed with him.

Eventually, though, he shifted, rolling over to peer past Dean’s shoulder at the clock on the bedside table. It read ten forty-three a.m., which meant they had both been out for about ten hours, give or take a few minutes. That seemed like enough time, to Cas. Time to recharge their batteries.

Now, he tipped his head to press a gentle kiss against Dean’s chin, then nudged at him until he was on his back—and began trailing soft kisses down along his chest to his abdomen and further. Dean just shifted in his sleep and sighed. He didn’t actually wake up until Cas reached the edge of his boxers and tugged them down, freeing his cock, still half-hard from sleep, and giving a long, slow lick across the head with a hum.

That was the point when Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down in blatant, sleep-fogged confusion—and then just groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Sh-shit, Cas…”

“Good morning,” Cas murmured softly, even as he licked up the side of Dean’s now-fully-hard dick and sucked the tip into his mouth, sucking at it softly. Dean cursed and brought a hand down to thread his fingers into Cas’s sleep-mussed hair.

“That’s a… heh. Hell of a way to wake up.”

Cas pulled off of him, licking his lips absently, and peered up at Dean curiously, “is it alright?”

“Is it alright.” Dean barked a laugh. He shook his head. “Yes, it’s alright, you just… caught me off-guard.” When Cas brought one hand up to start stroking at his cock, he swallowed hard and added, “you just keep, ah… surprising me, that’s all…” Then, after a brief pause and a slight buck of his hips, he tugged at Cas’s hair, drawing him up the length of his body. “C’mere, Cas.”

Cas went along willingly, releasing his hold on Dean’s dick and crawling up until he was even with the other man. He tilted his head curiously. “I thought you said it was alright?”

The fingers still tangled in his hair kneaded there restlessly before Dean pulled him down for a kiss. “It is. More than alright.” He murmured against Cas’s lips, “but I don’t just want your mouth or your hands. I want all of you.” A pause, and he smiled before asking, “is that alright?”

“Of course.” Cas replied easily with a shrug, “you can have me however you want, whenever you want.”

Dean grinned up at him, tugging him down for another kiss. “You might regret saying that one of these days, Cas.”

Cas wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, but he still stood by his statement. He was comfortable enough with Dean to offer up that much, at least. He knew Dean wouldn’t ask him to do anything too extreme—or, rather, he might ask but he would never force the issue. Cas was entirely sure of that fact.

Now, he just settled half-over Dean, kissing him back deeply, slowly, for a long couple of minutes until they had to break apart for proper air and Dean took to kissing along his jaw, nipping gently just under his ear. Cas sighed and let one hand rub against Dean’s chest, before sliding it further down to palm at Dean’s erection again, eyes closed and enjoying the attention—and the little gasp that his boyfriend muffled into his neck when Cas started stroking him off again.

“You’re gonna… make me come… before we even get to the good part.” Dean not-quite-complained, even as he stretched, reaching with one arm for the tube of lubricant on the bedside table. One he had it in hand he pushed at Cas’s chest gently. “Lay down and let me…”

Cas nodded and almost reluctantly released his grip on Dean’s cock again to roll onto his back with a huff. This time enough time had passed that he really would need to be stretched out again, and he knew it—and it wasn’t exactly like it was a chore, Dean always made it very pleasant for him, especially now that he knew what he was doing. Then again, he’d been good at that part right from the start, hadn’t he?

Settling back, Cas stripped out of his boxers, then got himself into position and reached to pull Dean closer, licking his lips absently. “Dean…”

“I’ve got you.” Dean leaned in for a kiss—then immediately got to work prepping Cas for what was to come, first one slick finger, then two, then three, until the younger man was arching and writhing under him. Dean really was good at finding—and manipulating—Cas’s sweet spot, leaving him absolutely wrecked by the time Dean pulled his hand away again, gasping for air and borderline begging for his cock.

“God, Dean, please…!”

“I know, Cas…”

But Dean didn’t just slide into him immediately, instead pulling his own boxers off properly and moving to sit with his back against the headboard of the bed, pulling Cas, a little boneless, at this point, up into his lap. Cas moaned and let his forehead drop down against Dean’s shoulder for a moment, but he knew what Dean was angling for here—so after a very brief pause he bit his lip and lifted up on his knees, reaching down to hold Dean’s cock in place as he sank down over it slowly.

Both of them just groaned quietly and Cas was still for a few breaths as he adjusted to Dean inside him.

“This… ah. It makes me feel… privileged, you know…?” Cas let his head fall forward again, his words coming out a touch breathless and his hands sliding up Dean’s arms to hold by his shoulders. “Special.”

“What does?” The older man asked, voice strained.

“This… the fact that this is just for me...” Cas shifted his hips slightly, swallowing a moan at the movement, “that no one else gets to see you like this… touch you like this. No one else gets to—to have you like this…”

“Yeah, I… me too, Cas.” Dean panted softly, “I feel the same way. Mmh.”

“I told you before…” Cas began moving finally, rocking his hips in Dean’s lap, and wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck to hold him close, “I don’t want to—ah!—share you…! I always want you… to be just mine…!”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed around a moan, then; “shit, Cas…!”

The thing about being sat up in Dean’s lap the way he was, pressed close together the way they were, this position, was that Dean’s cock rubbed firmly against his prostate with every roll of his hips and Cas was very quickly losing his wits. Now he just nodded his head, forehead pressed against Dean’s shoulder, unable to come up with any more words for the moment, and made a breathless, almost whining sound in the back of his throat.

Dean’s hands were clamped on his hips, right over the little bruises from the day before, a constant, tiny sting of pain that just seemed to set everything off even more. Cas rocked his hips harder and lifted his head to drag Dean into a kiss, then leaned their foreheads together, eyes closed and little “ah, ah” noises with every movement.

One hand slid up so Cas could tangle his fingers in Dean’s hair, pulling along with the rocking of his hips, biting on his lower own lip to muffle too-loud cries that kept trying to escape his throat. Finally, Cas ducked his head to bury his face in the crook of Dean’s neck with an only half-muffled shout at a particularly good thrust against his prostate: “MMH!”

For his part, Dean seemed to be enjoying the entire thing thoroughly—both because it was pleasurable for him, obviously, but also because Cas was on the verge of absolutely losing his shit. He wasn’t entirely sure why, he would have to ask later, but for now he was just going with it because Cas in this state, coming completely undone, was absolutely freaking fantastic. Unbelievably hot.

���Fuck… fuck…!” Cas was actually cursing under his breath, hips rocking hard, now, heatedly, his own cock rubbing against Dean’s abdomen and just making everything even more intense. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He tightened his grip in Dean’s hair and hissed when Dean’s hands tightened at his hips in kind, the bruises there protesting the added pressure.

When he came a moment later, Cas pressed close to Dean and kept his face buried in the older man’s neck, crying out loudly as he painted both their stomachs with slick come. But Dean wasn’t quite there—however, before Cas could pick up his movements again, Dean grabbed at him and flipped them over, pushing Cas down into the mattress and settling over him, starting to fuck him hard and deep.

Cas just moaned, head back against the pillows, gasping for air while Dean took his pleasure—and finally came a couple minutes later, hips jerking and shoving against Cas’s, holding deep for a few breaths before Dean pulled away and rolled to the side, settling beside his boyfriend, panting for air.

“What was… that about?” Dean swiped a hand through his hair and turned his head to look at Cas curiously, still breathing hard.

“Oh, fuck, I just…” Cas had one arm flung up over his eyes, his own chest still heaving, and it occurred to him that there had been no condom this time, either. He didn’t bother to mention it. “In that… position… God, Dean, every single little movement just… rubbed on my prostate, jammed against it…” Lowering his arm, he turned his head to give Dean a breathless grin, “it all felt incredible, I… just. Wow.”

Dean grinned back, rolling onto his side to face Cas and folding his arm under his head. “That was a happy accident.”

Cas laughed. “Yeah, definitely.” He took a few deep, grounding breaths, then, and smiled when Dean’s free hand slid across his chest to rest over where his heart was beating, still a little quick. Cas brought one of his own hands up to cup Dean’s jaw gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Cas.” Dean’s reply was warm, and he eased closer against Cas’s side, slinging an arm over his boyfriend’s chest with a chuckle, “with the swearing, this time. It must’ve felt good.”

“So good.” Cas agreed, still smiling at Dean fondly. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your prostate.” Cas clarified, “you know you have one, too, right?”

“Well… yeah, but…” Dean balked and actually began to pull away a little—

—until Cas rolled over and pulled him closer again, wrapping him up in his arms. He bumped their foreheads together lightly, gentle affection. “I was just asking if you were curious. You don’t ever have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Dean.” Then he offered a little, lopsided grin and added, “it does feel amazing, though.”

A small frown and Dean sighed but allowed: “I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

“Or never.” Cas assured him. “Never is fine, too.”

Dean closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. “I guess I have some hangups.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The younger man kissed back with a hum and squeezed his arms around Dean in a hug, “so what are we going to do today?”

“More of this? A whole day of this? Just the two of us tangled up in bed together all day long?” Dean suggested, the grin returning to his face, but then he dropped another brief kiss against Cas’s lips and added, “seriously though, first we should probably get cleaned up and then go get some breakfast. After that I was thinking we might hit up the botanical gardens… like another proper date, you know?”

That made Cas smile. They hadn’t been on a date since their first one in Jacksonville seven months ago. It was incredibly sweet of Dean to even think of it, all things considered. He sighed contentedly and pressed closer into Dean’s chest. “That sounds perfect, Dean.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Dean smiled back at him. “It’s a plan, then.”

-- --

They cleaned up together and absolutely had sex again in the shower, not that anyone involved was surprised when it happened. Once they were done, out, clean and dry, they both got dressed with relative swiftness and soon they were ready to head out the door.

After that it was back to Phil’s where they ordered—well—lunch, because it was so late, and ate and talked amongst themselves while they were there. This time the diner had pie in stock, so Dean got a slice of blueberry for them to share. The same as the last time they had shared a piece of pie, Cas took a single bite and left the rest to Dean because he clearly loved it at least as much as he loved Cas himself. Cas found it so endearing that he wasn’t even jealous, even though he probably should have been.

Once they were done eating, they walked to the botanical gardens with directions from Cas’s phone, and Dean expressed his surprise that two men could walk hand-in-hand down the street in Texas without getting straight-up shot. Cas was happy to inform him that, actually, the majority of Texans supported same-sex marriage and anti-discrimination laws. Dean had choked on his own tongue slightly at the word “marriage”, making Cas smile to himself, amused.

The botanical gardens, when they eventually got there, were sprawling and beautiful, but while Cas appreciated everything about them it was clear from the very start that Dean was bored out of his mind. He continued to follow Cas, though, Cas tugging on his hand gently to lead him around and stopping to read all the little informational plaques that they came across.

Finally, they found themselves at a section of the gardens that contained a decorative fountain and a couple of benches for seating, and Dean pulled Cas over to sit on one of them, needing a break from all the… greenery.

“I like it here.” Cas said, not necessarily to Dean, more to no one in particular. He looked around them, then up at the sky with a smile. “It’s like the Garden of Eden or something. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.” He turned his attention to Dean at that point, expression full of obvious content. “Having you here with me just makes it even better. Thank you for bringing me here, Dean.”

“Technically google brought us here.” Dean returned Cas’s smile with one of his own. “Not gonna lie, this really isn’t my thing. But I thought you’d like it, so…”

“You were right.” Leaning over, Cas pressed a kiss by Dean’s jaw gently. “But we don’t have to stay. I know you’re bored, and we’ve been here nearly two hours already.” Standing, he reached one hand out toward Dean for him to take; “come on, let’s get out of here. We can go back to the motel and find a bad movie to watch on television.”

Dean laughed and took his hand, pushing to his feet as well. “I’m sure we can find something on Pay-Per-View. And maybe we can order pizza for dinner tonight, instead of going to the diner again.”

Cas nodded. “I like all of these ideas.”

Dean grinned as they headed out. “You haven’t even heard all the ideas I’ve got for sex, yet, either.”

-- --

The only worthwhile movie that was playing on Pay-Per-View was the remake of Dawn Of The Dead, and Dean simply could not watch it without bitching. Cas actually found it amusing and somewhat adorable, all his opinions on films, though he didn’t understand a lot of Dean’s criticisms since he wasn’t familiar with the original, and after a while Dean really started to get himself worked up.

Eventually, Cas started pulling him into kisses just to shut him up and distract him—and it worked. Soon enough, the two of them were fully making out, Cas stretched out on his back on the little couch in the living area with Dean overtop of him, one leg pushed up between his thighs as they kissed until they couldn’t even breathe. The movie played on in the background, completely forgotten.

When they eventually parted to gasp for air, Dean ducked in to kiss along Cas’s throat, nipping gently here-and-there, and Cas let his own hands wander up under Dean’s shirt, nails scraping lightly along heated skin.

“God, I knew I missed you, but I almost literally can’t stop touching you.” Dean muttered against Cas’s neck.

Cas just made a quiet agreeing noise in his throat. He had come here expecting them to have sex, yes, but not in the sheer volume that they had been having it since he’d arrived. A couple of times, maybe, but not the going-on-six in twenty-four hours that they were currently at.

Not that he was complaining. It was amazing, and evidently Dean felt the same way, if his enthusiasm was anything to go by. Cas figured they were just making up for missing each other the last seven months, and clocking in memories to get them through the next span of time between visits. (Hopefully less than another seven months.)

“So was your Dad disappointed that you turned out to be ‘just another horny teenage boy’?” Dean asked with a grin, biting on his earlobe—and it caught Cas so by surprise that he laughed, head back and fingers digging into Dean’s sides slightly, shoulders shaking. Dean pushed up on his arms to grin down at him. “You were worried about that, once, remember?”

Cas smiled widely up at him. “I’m not anymore. Especially if this weekend is any indication.” He pulled, then, tugging Dean back down over himself and leaning in to kiss him again. “Not that I plan on telling him any details.”

“Chuck’s head would explode, I think.” Dean murmured into the kiss. “We don’t want to explode your Dad.”

“No, we don’t want that…” Cas sighed against his lips… and then they were making out again, warm and slow becoming hot and heavy in no time, the two of them completely tangled up together, lost in each other, in the feel of moving against each other, even just with their clothes still on.

Not that they stayed on for long. Soon enough Cas was rucking up Dean’s shirt, urging him to take it off, and Dean pushed back just long enough to grab his tee by the back collar and yank it over his head. He tossed it off to the side before sliding his hands down to tug at Cas’s shirt as well, until the younger man sat up a little and allowed Dean to pull his shirt off as well.

Dean leaned down to kiss Cas again, but pushed Cas’s hands away when he immediately went to grab at Dean. “We need the lube,” He muttered against Cas’s lips. “I’ll go get it. You get your pants off.”

Cas fell back with a huff but nodded his agreement. Dean had a point. So, while Dean climbed off him and headed into the bedroom area, Cas undid his own jeans—then adjusted himself on the couch, considering, before standing and wandering after Dean. Dean was already out of his jeans and boxers, and just grabbing the lube off the nightstand. When he turned around to see Cas standing there, he gave a confused look.

Cas shrugged. “The couch is too small; we would’ve fallen off. The bed is better.”

“But louder.”

“Still better.”

Dean glanced between the bed and the couch before shrugging and climbing onto the mattress, gesturing for Cas to join him. Cas flashed a smile but took the time to get out of his own jeans and boxers before joining his boyfriend. Dean drew him up into his lap with a hum and Cas went along more than willingly, settling straddling the other man and leaning in to kiss him warmly.

This time when they started making out again it stayed warm and slow, the heat simmering just below the surface despite the fact that they were both already stripped bare, already hard. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, one hand up and tangled in Dean’s hair, and Dean’s own hands roamed up and down Cas’s sides, smoothing over his skin hotly, the lube discarded on the bed beside them for the time being.

It was a slower process this time, harkening back to their first couple times, when Dean had been in Jacksonville, and they had been having sex at Cas’s house, in Cas’s bed. Kisses and touches that brimmed with emotion that they, at the time, had been unable to express in words. Now they could find the words, but they also knew how to express themselves physically much more easily than back then. It seemed like a lifetime ago, really.

Cas’s arms unwrapped from around Dean’s neck, and he gave one more, gentle tug at Dean’s hair, his hands sliding down to rest against the older man’s chest, kneading there lightly as they kissed, deep and slow. Dean hummed into the kiss, his own hands rubbing up Cas’s back, then dragging back down before pulling Cas closer against himself, rocking his hips upward lightly.

A low moan and Cas began rocking his own hips, just little, light movements, and kissed Dean deeply again before pulling back and leaning their foreheads together, licking his lips absently. “Dean…” He swallowed, paused, then finally murmured almost shyly, “…make love to me.”

And Dean paused at that because oh. But there was such hesitance and earnestness in Cas’s blue eyes that he couldn’t do anything except agree. Not that he wouldn’t have agreed anyway. He would happily agree to just about anything for Cas. Dean offered a soft, utterly smitten smile and whispered, “I can do that, Cas.”

Cas gave a sigh of relief, still looking a touch shy, and leaned in for another soft kiss. Dean returned the kiss just as gently—then carefully nudged Cas out of his lap, settling him on the bed before grabbing for the lube and setting about the task of getting Cas stretched out, the process long and slow and drawn-out this time, until Cas was arching and writhing, head back and hands fisting in the blankets, pulling at them. Until he was an absolute panting mess.

Dean was so, so achingly hard, but ignored his own need until Cas was pleading with him, at which point he finally settled himself between Cas’s legs and pushed his cock into the younger man’s body, slow and deep.

He was still for a minute, then, giving Cas time to adjust, his weight resting on one arm and the opposite hand sliding warmly up and down Cas’s hip and thigh, and leaned down to kiss Cas gently. Cas returned the kiss with a little whine and a rock of his hips. Dean took the hint and began to move.

They moved carefully together, easing into a slow, deep rhythm. Cas’s legs came up to wrap around Dean’s hips loosely and his hands lifted to grab at Dean’s sides, fingers digging in just slightly, then sliding around to knead at the small of his back. Dean ducked in to kiss along Cas’s shoulder to the crook of his neck, then lifted up a little again to draw Cas into another kiss.

Cas kissed back with a low moan, muffled against Dean’s lips, then broke away to let his head fall black, leaving his throat free for Dean to plunder. He continued rolling his hips, hands holding Dean close against him, and panted out, “oh, God��� Dean, this is… ah… perfect…!”

“You’re perfect…” Came Dean’s reply, muffled against Cas’s neck. “You feel amazing, Cas… every damn inch of you…”

Dean was a versatile lover; Cas was very quickly learning. He could roll with just about anything. But this—this—was something he was particularly good at, somehow, for some reason. Cas wasn’t about to question it right now.

Everything was heat and passion, the two of them completely wrapped up in each other, and it seemed to go on forever. This was exactly what Cas had wanted—what he had been asking for, and he didn’t regret asking a single bit. He just soaked in everything Dean was giving him, absorbed it into himself and gave back what he hoped was at least an iota of what he was receiving.

A hand slid down his thigh, rubbing heatedly, and Cas tightened his legs around Dean’s hips with a little, choked whine when the movement pulled Dean deeper into himself. Dean just moaned and buried his face in the crook of Cas’s neck again, panting there breathlessly as he began fucking into Cas a little harder, a little faster, working them both toward completion.

When Cas came a few too-short moments later it was with a sharp cry, back arched, head pushed back into the pillow and mouth working as he gasped for air. He continued to cling to Dean with all his tingly-loose limbs while the other man kept thrusting into him for another short time—and then tensed, his grip on Cas’s thigh tightening as he came as well, a short shout in his throat.

Then Dean was sinking down over Cas, settling against his chest, leaving Cas to ease his legs back down to the bed with a huff. The younger man continued panting, but stroked his hands up and down Dean’s back, rubbing warmly, affection on a level he didn’t give to anyone else.

It was another few minutes before Dean finally pulled out of him and rolled to the side to land on his back with a huff. Cas just rolled over as well, tucking himself into Dean’s side and throwing an arm across him with a little pleased noise. “That... was amazing.”

“You know we have done that before. Several times. Several times this weekend.” Dean joked.

“Not like that, though.” Cas protested softly.

“…no. We’ve only—made love—that one other time.” Dean conceded. “At your place just before I had to leave. And it’s…” He trailed off for a moment, considering, before giving Cas a smile, just a little, fond quirk of his lips, “I think it’s the best way we have sex. We should do it more often.”

“I feel very… close to you. When we make love like that.” Cas admitted, voice still quiet, as if he were afraid of breaking whatever spell had come over them, “emotionally, I mean, as well as physically. It’s an entirely different experience than when we’re just…” He trailed off, then, searching for the word.

“Fucking?” Dean suggested with a chuckle.

Cas sighed but made a quiet agreeing noise. “Yes, exactly.”

He really wasn’t a fan of that term for it, even if it was accurate—even if he had used that word himself already over the course of their weekend together. Cas supposed sometimes there was just no other way to put it, even if ‘fucking’ made it sound so… animalistic, almost. Base. Which it could be, granted, but he still had a complicated relationship with that word. He didn’t even like to use it as a curse.

Dean’s hand rubbed against his back, just gentle and warm, and after a brief silence he asked, “what’re you thinking about?”

“Mm…” Cas closed his eyes, his own hand touching absently along Dean’s chest, the pads of his fingers feeling along the shallow scars the jorogumo had left behind on him months ago, too. “Nothing, really, just… this weekend has been…” Trailing off, he gave a soft laugh and turned his head to press a kiss by Dean’s collar bone. “A lot. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“I know, right?” The older man grinned up at the ceiling, amusement all over his voice, “and we still have another whole day to go.”

“You’re enjoying this too much, Dean.” Cas accused fondly.

“Wha—come on! Aren’t you?” Still grinning, Dean tilted his head to look at Cas properly and tightened his arm around him slightly. “I know you aren’t hating it.”

“No,” Cas allowed, a little smile on his face again, “I’m definitely not hating it.” When Dean angled for a kiss he returned it with a laugh, “but I am going to be completely exhausted by the time I leave Monday morning.”

“Mmhm,” Dean hummed into the kiss, already rolling over to press Cas into the mattress again, “I can live with that.”

-- --

Men reached peak sexuality at about their age and Cas was pretty sure they were a prime example of that fact. They spent all of Saturday night and most of Sunday wrapped up in each other, making up for lost time and stockpiling memories to last them until the next time they could meet up. It was good to be young.

There were, of course, occasional breaks to get cleaned up (not that it ever lasted long) or for food, or just to watch television together (as long as it wasn’t the Dawn Of The Dead remake) and cuddle on the too-small couch, but in general they spent their time in the creaky bed, which Cas was actually starting to become fond of—except for the times that they had sex in the shower, or when Dean fucked him over the little kitchenette table.

Really, they had joked about it, but even if he had told his father about the goings on that weekend, he doubted his father would have believed him.

“I’m sorry,” This came from Dean, who was spooned up behind him, one hand rubbing gently against Cas’s hip.

They were cuddled up together on the bed now, in the wee hours of the morning Monday morning. They really should have been asleep—Cas had to be up to catch the bus downtown at six—but neither one of them wanted to miss even a moment of time they could have been spending together. Besides, Cas could just sleep on the bus, and Dean could always come back to the motel and crash after he was gone.

Cas made a surprised noise and glanced over his shoulder. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Your hips.” Dean clarified, fingers touching along the still-darkening bruises there lightly, “I was too rough. I bruised them up.”

“You did,” Cas agreed, and rolled over to face him, tilting his head to drop a kiss against Dean’s lips. “But to be fair I initiated a couple of those times, so it’s my fault, too. Anyway, they’re not bad. They only hurt a little, and they’ll heal up in no time.” Then, just to be clear; “you weren’t too rough. You were just right.”

“This isn’t a Goldilocks thing, Cas, I hurt you.”

“You did not. I’m fine.” Cas rolled his eyes and pushed at Dean until the other man rolled onto his back, then climbed on top of him, flinging a leg over him to straddle his hips and leaning down to kiss him again. “Here, I’ll show you how fine I am…”

Dean chuckled into the kiss but then reluctantly slid his hands up Cas’s legs to push at him gently. “Cas,” Another kiss, then, “Cas, seriously, we can’t, we—” When Cas pulled back a little, Dean gave him an apologetic look, “we don’t have time. It’s after four-thirty and we have to get you to the bus station for six…”

Something sad flickered in Cas’s eyes before shuttering off again, and he sat back against Dean’s hips, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Dean was right. They still needed to shower and get dressed, and walk to the bus station—or, he did, anyway, and he assumed Dean would insist on coming with him.

Frowning to himself, Cas shifted off of Dean and tucked himself close into the older man’s side. Dean wrapped an arm around him without a word of protest. They did have enough time for this—for a few more, brief moments of intimacy—the emotional kind. Cas nuzzled into Dean’s chest just by his collar bone and closed his eyes.

“I don’t want to go.” He said finally, voice soft and sad.

“I know,” Dean replied, the hand resting on his side rubbing there gently; reassuring, grounding; “I don’t want you to go, either. If I could take you back with me, I would, but my Dad—” He broke off, but Cas knew. And besides, Dean would never actually want to subject him to the life of a Hunter, or a Hunter’s family.

“What if neither of us went back?” He suggested, tone a strange mix between joking and serious, “what if we just… stay here, in Amarillo. It’s a nice town. Accepting. We could make a life for ourselves, here.”

“You have school coming up,” Dean reminded him softly, “a whole future. Friends and your Dad and… and everything.”

“And I’d give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant being able to be with you.” Cas murmured, just as softly. He hesitated then, one hand tracing absently against Dean’s chest, before asking, “you know Sam once said to me that he thought you would give up Hunting for me, if I asked you to. Is that true?”

There was a long, long silence from Dean following that question. Cas could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. He was just about to dismiss it entirely and change the subject when Dean spoke up again, just quietly, to answer his question; “yes, it’s true.”

Cas paused at that. Blue eyes opened and he looked off into the darkness of the room, his hand stilling against Dean’s chest, just over his heart. “It’s very tempting.” He admitted finally, “the idea of you quitting Hunting and us just being able to… be.” Then his hand began to move again, fingers toying absently with Dean’s pendant, and he continued, “but I could never ask that of you, I told Sam that at the time, too. You… I think a part of you needs to Hunt. For your family. For yourself. I understand that. If you stopped for me, eventually you’d come to resent me for it, and I don’t want that. So… I’ll go and get on that bus and head back to Florida, and we’ll meet again in a couple more months. Right?”

When Dean responded he sounded like he was having trouble speaking, getting the words out; “how can you always be so selfless? How can you always, always be thinking about me over your own wants and your own needs?”

A little smile. Cas lifted his head to look up at Dean through the dark. “That’s what you do when you love someone as much as I love you.”

Dean looked back at him for a moment—then leaned to kiss him gently. “I love you, too, Cas. So much. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“What else can I be?” Cas smiled fondly before finally pushing away and sitting up, stretching his arms over his head for a moment. Then he climbed out of the bed and held a hand out toward Dean. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up. I have a bus to catch and I’m making you walk me to the station.”

A chuckle from Dean, but he allowed himself to be pulled up as well. “Don’t gotta make me, Cas, I was already planning on it.”

-- --

The walk to the bus station downtown was made mostly in silence, the two of them walking quietly, hand-in-hand down the street, Cas with his backpack hiked over one shoulder, neither of them showing the wear from the weekend, though Cas was sure as soon as he was on the bus and the vehicle was moving, he would basically pass out. He just hoped he didn’t miss any of his stops or transfers.

Dean was staying in town for one more night before heading back to California to meet up with his dad and Sam, who, by that time, should have taken care of the whole 1426 F Street thing. Then they would be on to the next town, the next job, and Cas would be back to trying to track Dean’s meandering path all across the country.

When they arrived at the station, they were a few minutes early, so Cas took the time to raid the vending machines for food: a couple of pre-packaged sandwiches, bags of chips, chocolate bars and bottled water that he crammed into his backpack along with his dirty clothes. Enough to get him by for the next twenty-four hours on the bus, hopefully, though he could always buy more at one of his layovers if he had to.

Then he sat next to Dean on a bench and waited for his bus to pull in, close against the other man’s side with his head resting on Dean’s shoulder. Neither of them had actually said ‘goodbye’ yet, they were procrastinating over it, but they knew it was coming and both of them were dreading it.

It was hard, parting ways like this, especially not knowing when they would be able to meet up again. This time it had taken seven months before Dean could get away from his family for a weekend, what if next time it took longer? Nine months? A year? Their whole lives could get away from them at that rate, and Cas… he hated it. All he wanted to do was ask Dean to quit Hunting for him, but what he’d said was true, he knew eventually Dean would grow to resent him for it if they went down that road, and that was the last thing he wanted. Still, it was tempting.

The thought of having a normal, apple-pie life with Dean was… well, it was a pipe dream, of course, but it was also so, so nice. Cas was happy when he was with Dean, comfortable and relaxed in ways that he wasn’t around anyone else. It helped that having Dean around kept the nightmares at bay, too. He knew as soon as he was away from the other man’s presence, they would come back full force. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

“You look like you’re doing some serious thinking.”

“Hm?” Cas blinked out of his thoughts and lifted his head to smile at Dean, “just thinking about my dreams, how you keep the nightmares away.” He shrugged slightly, “still don’t know why, but you’re the best dreamcatcher out there.”

Dean reached to take hold of his hand, squeezing gently. “I’m glad I help, even if I’m not there all the time.”

“Not all my dreams are bad anymore,” Cas assured him, tangling their fingers together and giving a squeeze of his own, “some of them are just weird. In one I’m drinking coffee in a restaurant, but it’s like… a thousand restaurants all at the same time, they’re just all identical? Restaurants within restaurants within restaurants. I don’t know. But a lot of them are still… yeah. Not great. On the bus here a couple days ago I nodded off and dreamed that someone cut open my stomach and reached inside with their bare hands and pulled out a… stone. A big, flat stone. And I could feel every second they were ripping into me, it was…”

“God, Cas,” Dean tipped his head to press a kiss against his temple and Cas sighed softly. “Where does your brain even come up with that stuff?”

Another shrug. “No idea. All I know is I don’t get much sleep a lot of the time. So, when I’m with you and you’re chasing the dreams away, however you’re doing it, it’s just… it’s really, really nice. Something I appreciate, even though I know you’re not doing it on purpose.”

“No, but I’m glad I’m helpful, anyway.”

“Mm.”

“I still have that piece of chalcedony you gave me,” Dean told him with a smile, “I sleep with it under my pillow, along with Dad’s bowie knife. I think it helps. But that could just be because it’s from you.”

Cas returned his smile with one of his own, “I’m glad. You know, I—”

And then the announcement came over the loudspeaker that Cas’s bus had just pulled in and would be boarding momentarily. Cas broke off what he’d been about to say, deeming it unimportant, his smile turning sad around the edges. He stood from his seat and waited for Dean to do the same, leaving his backpack on the floor for the time being.

“Cas, I…” Dean began, then trailed off and simply pulled the younger man into a hug, wrapping him up in his arms and holding him tight. Cas hugged back, hands grabbing at the back of Dean’s jacket like he never wanted to let go—probably because he didn’t. And why was saying goodbye this time so much harder than saying goodbye last time had been? “I’m going to miss the hell out of you.” Dean finished finally, voice coming out rough.

Cas nodded, face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck and fighting back the tears that were in his eyes, threatening to spill over. “Yeah, me too.” He sniffed softly and carefully released his hold on Dean, who brought one hand up to cup Cas’s jaw, thumb rubbing along his cheek gently. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Promise.” Dean leaned in for a kiss and Cas returned it, the tears finally overflowing. When they pulled back Dean wiped them away softly and bumped their foreheads together. “I love you, Cas.”

A weak smile. “I love you, too, Dean.”

The call for his bus to start boarding. Cas sniffed again and stepped back from Dean, trying to keep a smile on his face—but it was completely undermined by the fact that he was still crying. He stooped to pick up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder. When he straightened again, it was to give a little surprised noise when Dean pulled him into another kiss—this one deep and full of longing. Cas fell into it and returned it in kind until the next call for his bus, at which point he had to pull away.

“Goodbye, Dean.” He said, swallowing, “less than seven months next time, right?”

Dean nodded, and his own voice came out suspiciously thick when he confirmed, “right.”

Cas reluctantly left, handing over his ticket and climbing onto the bus, taking a seat near the back. He watched Dean through the window—the other man stayed where he was, eyes on him, until the bus pulled away and drove out of sight. Only then did Dean turn around and head back to the motel, alone.

He was already making plans to video call Cas the following day.

The End

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Cheap Motel

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/tSuWUEM by senashenta Almost nine months ago, Dean and Cas met in the cafeteria at Caspar High and the rest was history. They fell in love, they fought monsters together—and then Dean’s dad yanked him off to the next job, leaving Cas behind. Now, Dean and Cas meet up for the first time in seven long months of being apart, of texting and phone calls and video chats, to try to make up for lost time and stock up memories over the course of a too-short weekend in a cheap motel in Amarillo, Texas. Follow-up to Horror High. Words: 14963, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Horror High et al Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Cas, Top Dean, Destiel - Freeform, just fluff and smut here people, Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, there are probably other tags but I'll add them as I think of them read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/tSuWUEM

[senashenta]

Counting Scars

Title: Counting Scars

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex. Just. All the sex.

Summary: Three years after their first meetup in a motel in Amarillo, Texas, Dean and Cas are used to traveling to meet up with each other every couple of months or so. This time it’s in Raleigh, North Carolina, where they spend (most of) a weekend locked up together in a (not so) cheap hotel, making up for lost time and reaffirming their love for one another once more… until Dean’s DAD stops by unexpectedly to pound on the door and drag him away for a JOB, anyway.

Notes: Okay so the Horror High series was originally supposed to just be four fics: Horror High (10 chapters), Cheap Motel (one-shot), Counting Scars (one-shot) and then Storm Season (which is going to be X-number of chapters long, but I’m hoping around 10 the same as Horror High.)

But somewhere along the way other one-shots, Cerulean Blue, Everything I Do, and Falling Stars, just kind of… cropped up in-between Horror High and Storm Season. So, then the series was up to SEVEN fics. UNTIL. More one-shots appeared that take place AFTER Storm Season. SEVEN of them. And now the series is up to FOURTEEN fics, two of which have multiple chapters, and I have DUG MY OWN GRAVE, here! And all for a series with an EXTREMELY small following, so I’m pretty much writing it all for myself! :D;;

ANYWAY.

Top!Dean and Bottom!Cas the same as the rest of this series. If that’s not your jam, feel free to back out now. I just happen to like them that way. Also, gratuitous smut abounds!

On a personal note, I’m having a really rough go of it right now and my writing is pretty much all I have at the moment. Destiel, Lambden, Geraskier, Hijack and Valdemar are getting me through some tough times. Comments and likes help cheer me up, if you’ve got the time and inclination. (If not, thank you for reading, anyway.)

HORROR HIGH et al TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

COUNTING SCARS By Senashenta

[Days Inn, 3201 Wake Forest Road, room 16. Love you.]

Cas was rather stumped by this one because the hotel he was looking at simply wasn’t… shitty enough. Usually the Winchesters picked the cheapest, weirdest, most run-down motels they could find to fly under the radar, and while this hotel wasn’t five-star by any means, it certainly wasn’t run-down. It was nicely kept. It was clean. It was two stories. It had a pool (albeit one that was closed for the season.) Cas was frankly confused as hell, after three years of these little meetups.

But he was at the right address, according to his phone, and Cas had spent the last twelve hours on a bus from Tallahassee, Florida to Raleigh, North Carolina to meet up with his boyfriend-slash-lover, so finally he just headed into the hotel and asked for directions to room sixteen from the friendly and polite woman manning the front desk. Once he was pointed in the right direction, he headed off, and when he reached room sixteen, he only hesitated slightly before knocking.

There was scuffling from the other side of the door and then Cas could hear it being unlatched. Dean yanked the door open to grin at him hugely, then grabbed at the front of his trench coat and pulled him inside, closing and locking the door again behind them.

Cas hefted his backpack off his shoulder and dropped it on the ground, looking around the—nice—room with complete bafflement. “What’s with the…?” He gestured to the whole room, the plush bed with soft, comfortable linens, the fancy furniture—the balcony—with obvious confusion.

“Oh. I—ah.” Dean glanced around, then shrugged with one shoulder and rubbed at his hair almost awkwardly. “I just thought it’d be nice, for a change. Don’t you think? And the cost doesn’t really matter, I mean, it’s all on fake credit cards anyway. So.”

Cas watched Dean shift on his feet, still bordering on awkward—and finally smiled, just soft and fond. “You didn’t have to do this for me, you know.” He said quietly, even as he eased closer and ducked in to give Dean a kiss. “I’m happy just as long as we’re together. But this is… it’s nice. Thank you for thinking of me, Dean.”

Dean relaxed on his words and tilted his head to return the kiss. “I’m always thinking of you.” He told Cas with a smile, bumping their heads together lightly. “You’re almost always on my mind.”

Three years of being a couple and most of that time having to meet up in random places around the country, in cheap motels, to eke out time together over too-short weekends while spending the rest of their lives apart—it hadn’t dulled their relationship one bit. Cas and Dean were perhaps closer than ever, emotionally speaking, if not in geographical terms, and that always stood out glaringly when they did manage to get together.

Now, with Dean being twenty-one years old (Cas was still twenty and would turn twenty-one in four months) they were still solidly a couple, neither of them planning on going anywhere any time soon. Neither of them could really even imagine life without the other, even with the occasionally troublesome manner of their relationship.

Certainly, it would have been nice if they could have had a “normal” life together. Dated the “right way”, maybe even shared an apartment. But Dean was still a Hunter—would always be a Hunter—and Cas simply… wasn’t. He couldn’t go on the road with Dean even if he wanted to, and Dean’s dad wouldn’t allow it anyway. Besides which, Cas was midway through his post-secondary education at Florida State University, so he couldn’t exactly be touring around the country. He would have to drop out of school. School that his father was paying for.

As it was Cas was taking days off from school (and his part-time job) every two or three months to meet up with Dean like this. It was easy, in university. No one called truant on you, as long as you kept your grades up—which Cas did, of course. Though his first-year roommate from when he’d been living in the dorms, Alfie, had asked him where he kept disappearing to on more than one occasion.

When they couldn’t meet up, they texted, and called, and video chatted. Cas and Dean were in nearly constant communication, except when Dean was on a Hunt—then he turned his phone off, for obvious reasons. It was the times when he tried to call and it went straight to voicemail that Cas found himself worrying, even though Dean assured him that he was fine. He was always fine.

Now, Dean reached to take his hand and tugged Cas through the room and over to the balcony, pulling the door open and nudging him outside. Dean followed him out and leaned against the balcony railing with a smile. “It’s only the second floor, but we get a view of the garden, which I guess is nice? If you’re into that sort of thing. What do you think?”

Cas stepped up next to him and rested his hands on the railing, looking around, taking in the view. “It is nice.” He confirmed with a smile, and then, again, “thank you for this. I mean, I’m… happy. To see you in any cheap motel in this country. But this is special. Something different.”

“For our anniversary.” Dean said softly, a little smile on his face when Cas blinked at him. “I bet you didn’t think I’d remember stuff like that. But a month ago was the anniversary of our first date.”

“When we went to Maggie’s for dinner and then made love when we got back to my place later. And I mean made love, not just sex.” Cas laughed quietly; his expression fond at the memory. “My first real date ever and I absolutely let you go all the way. Does that make me easy?”

“Oh, the easiest.” Dean agreed with a grin.

Cas laughed again, a blatantly happy sound, and bumped sideways into him gently. “You love me anyway.”

“I love you because of it.” Dean corrected, teasing.

Cas rolled his eyes and swatted at Dean’s arm, then pushed away from the balcony and turned to go back inside, Dean following along behind him. Once he was back in the room he hung his coat on the rack by the door—there were, for some reason, two jackets already hanging there—and then wandered over to climb into the absurdly comfortable bed. He waved for Dean to join him.

Dean crawled into the bed with him, and after a moment of adjusting the two of them settled with Dean on his back, one arm tucked around Cas, who was cuddled into his side warmly, one of his own arms flung across Dean’s chest, his hand toying with the front of Dean’s t-shirt absently.

“So, how are Sam and your Dad?” Cas asked once they were comfortable, “Did your Dad freak out again when you said you were coming here?”

“He always freaks out.” Dean sighed, his hand rubbing at Cas’s shoulder gently. “Let’s just say he’s not your biggest fan.”

“He doesn’t even know me.” Cas grumbled.

“I know.” Dean squeezed his shoulder and sighed, pulling him even closer.

Cas shifted against him and buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck with a huff. It bothered him, that Dean’s dad didn’t like him just on principle alone. When people were together, loved each other, like he and Dean did, then wasn’t it natural to want the other person’s family to approve of you? Then again, from the sound of it, John Winchester didn’t approve of much.

At least Sam liked him, that much was true. Cas had always had a good relationship with Dean’s younger brother, ever since they had met. And while Sam was getting stubborn and (more) opinionated now that he was seventeen, rebelling against his dad and just generally getting in trouble, Cas still had a high opinion of him. He thought he always would.

Pressing a kiss against the side of Dean’s neck, Cas finally just changed the subject completely and asked, “why are there two jackets by the door?”

“There are three. One of them is your ridiculous trench coat.”

“Smartass.”

“Better than being a dumbass.” Dean grinned up at the ceiling, then told him; “my old jean jacket from high school is on its last legs. Dad gave me his old leather one, it’s still in good shape, but…” He trailed off slightly and glanced down at Cas, “that patch you got for me is still on my old one, and I was hoping you could swap it over to the leather one, while you’re here…?” Then a pause and he added, “Dad’ll be pissed I defaced his jacket, but whatever.”

Cas made a soft sound in his throat and glanced up at Dean in surprise. “You want to keep the patch?”

“Of course.” Dean gave him a gentle hug. “It keeps me safe.”

Cas was quiet and still for a moment because—that was the first thing he had ever given his boyfriend, besides peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Something to protect him. And even years later, Dean apparently still treasured it. It was a wonderous thing. After a brief pause to consider that, Cas shifted against Dean’s side, shuffling so that he was half-laying overtop of the other man, and leaning down for a kiss. “I love you, Dean.”

“Mm.” A hum against his lips and Dean angled his head to deepen the kiss; “I love you, too. More than anything.”

As often happened between them, one kiss led to more, which lead to Cas pushing Dean’s shirt up, urging him to take it off, and Dean doing the same with him. They both eased back long enough to strip out of them before coming together again, making out like it was the end of days.

Soon enough they were taking their pants off, too, as well as their boxers, pressing together, completely nude and loving the feel of their bodies against each other in the soft sheets. When Cas mumbled something about lube, Dean extracted himself from the younger man and the bed long enough to go to his duffle bag and dig it out. Of course, Cas had brought some, too, just in case—he always did—but Dean never forgot.

Cas took the brief time Dean was gone to settle on his back and slide a hand down to palm at his own cock, then closed his hand around it and started stroking, head falling back and breath starting to come faster. When Dean turned around, lube in hand, to that sight, he cursed softly and just watched for a moment before swallowing and heading back over, climbing back into the bed.

Prep was easy now, with so much practice behind them, and Dean knew exactly what he was doing, working his fingers into Cas carefully but deeply, stroking against his sweet spot as much as possible just to watch him jerk and hear him moan. He would never get over that.

They had long ago stopped using condoms; after the first accidental slip-up it had seemed pointless, and they were in an exclusive relationship. They trusted each other, so it was fine. Besides, Cas privately liked the idea of Dean coming inside him—though he had yet to express that out loud.

Now, Dean pulled his fingers away, sliding his slicked-up hand up Cas’s thigh, leaving a streak of lube in its wake—but before he could push Cas’s legs father apart and settle between them, Cas sat up, grabbed at him and pushed him onto his back, then climbed on top of him and—oh. Okay. This definitely worked, too.

Cas straddled Dean’s hips, reaching down to fist his boyfriend’s cock and give it a couple of strokes before holding it steady, lining up and sinking himself down over it, taking Dean deeply into his body. And then he sat there for a long moment, just breathing heavily, his hands braced against Dean’s abdomen, kneading there restlessly as he adjusted. Dean’s own hands came up to grab at Cas’s thighs, gripping there tightly.

Surprisingly, when he did finally start to move, Cas rocked his hips slowly, deeply, in a warm rhythm—usually when they fucked like this it was hard, fast and rough. This time Cas drew it out, rolling his hips sensually, all slow-building heat and delicious friction. This was new, different—but not at all unwelcome. Making love in an entirely surprising way.

Dean released one of Cas’s thighs and reached up to thread his fingers into the other man’s hair, pulling him down for a kiss—then another, and another—before Cas broke off to bury his face in Dean’s shoulder, still rolling his hips, panting softly.

Usually, their lovemaking was over almost too quickly, but this time seemed to last forever, long and drawn-out and delightfully kinetic, Dean’s hands roaming Cas’s sides and back and Cas working them both to their peak while panting into his shoulder, still, until Dean began carefully thrusting up to meet his movements, at which point Cas pushed himself up again, throwing his head back with a gasp. “Dean…!”

“Shit, Cas…!” Dean panted out a curse, hands dragging to hold by Cas’s knees while Cas’s rhythm sped up—and he brought one of his own hands up to grasp at his own cock, beginning to jerk off along with everything else. Dean just cursed again, watching him under half-lidded eyes, licking his lips at the sight. “So fucking hot…!”

Cas whined at that, just a token protest, but didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop stroking at his himself, until a long few moments later when he tensed up abruptly, and came with a sharp cry, spilling sticky come over Dean’s abdomen. Even though he was done, though, he continued to move, rolling his hips down against Dean’s until the older man reached his own climax and came with a muffled groan of his own, deep inside Cas’s body.

Only then did Cas climb off Dean, then ease down to start licking at the streaks of come that speckled Dean’s abdomen, cleaning them away with his tongue. Dean bit back another moaned curse at the sight, and when Cas was done, licking his lips absently, he drew him up the bed and tucked him into his side.

“You’ve never done that before…”

“Seems rude to leave it and make a mess of such nice blankets.”

Dean chuckled and rubbed a hand along Cas’s side warmly. “That’s very considerate of you.”

“I try.” Cas yawned slightly and nuzzled down into Dean’s shoulder with a quiet pleased noise, “did I ever tell you… I actually prefer no condoms?”

“No.” Dean sounded surprised. “Why?”

“Mmm… because I like you coming inside me.” And it struck Dean that Cas must have been tired—from the bus trip there, from the sex, from a combination of things—because he wouldn’t just say something like that, normally. Now, Cas continued softly, his voice almost a mumble, “feels like you’re marking me, somehow. Claiming me. I like when you claim me.”

Dean adjusted his arm around Cas a little, tugging the blankets up around them with the other one. “You’re mine and I’m yours. We don’t share each other.” He reminded Cas quietly, tone amused.

But Cas was already drifting off and didn’t even realize he was falling asleep until he woke up some time later.

-- --

When he did wake up, Cas breathed out a long, contented sigh. His head was still resting on Dean’s shoulder, his arm across Dean’s ribs, and Dean’s arm around his waist. Neither of them had moved, so Dean must have fallen asleep, too. Cas hummed to himself and let his hand slide along Dean’s skin gently. The older man didn’t even twitch—he was clearly still sleeping.

Fingers light, touch soft, Cas began petting along Dean’s chest and abdomen, pausing every time he reached a scar, mapping them, keeping a mental tally in his head as he trailed his fingertips along them gently. Nine. He counted nine scars on the front of Dean’s torso alone—and that was if you counted the two little parallel jorogumo ones as one. If not then it was ten, and that was…

Cas understood Dean’s job. The importance of it. And he was so proud of his boyfriend for doing it. But that didn’t mean he didn’t hate it a little bit, too. Every time they met up and Dean was carrying more scars, something in Cas’s gut twisted up. He hated seeing the evidence of all the times Dean had been hurt, even if some of them were now a long time in the past.

Now his fingers touched gently across a newer scar by Dean’s ribs; it was still raised and pink, obviously fresh, and he sighed softly, wishing there was something he could do. Some way he would wipe the slate clean, get rid of all the awful marks for good, like magic. Dean didn’t deserve to carry around all these reminders of pain.

“…what are you doing?” Dean’s voice came out thick with sleep and he finally shifted slightly under Cas’s touch, stretching and then ducking to drop a kiss against the younger man’s hair.

Cas smiled a little and smoothed his hand against Dean’s ribs. “Counting scars.” He replied simply, without any more explanation than that.

“Naturally.” Dean chuckled, still settled back in the warm blankets on the comfortable bed in their surprisingly nice hotel room. “Mm… do you remember what you were saying, before you fell asleep?”

“No… what was I saying?”

Another soft laugh. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. You know what I was thinking?”

“What were you thinking?” Cas looked up at him.

“The downside to this place? People might actually bitch to the management about the amount of noise we make while we’re having sex.”

A soft laugh and Cas leaned up for a kiss. “So, let them complain to management. We’re not doing anything wrong.” Then he settled again, his hand going back to tracing abstractly against Dean’s chest, like usual, and he said, “so, I looked up Raleigh while I was on the bus here. Have you ever been here before?”

“Yeah. Rugaru case a couple years back. Didn’t get to do much sightseeing, obviously.”

Well, yeah, okay, that made sense. Cas tapped his fingers against Dean’s chest with a soft hum. “Well, they’ve got the Natural History Museum,” He said, “and the Museum of Art, and the Arboretum. And—and I can practically hear you yawning already, stop that. I know those aren’t really your things. But they also have a huge farmer’s market, which I know is also not your thing, but I was hoping we could stop in tomorrow, if that’s okay with you? It’s got vendors from all over and it’s supposed to be great…”

Dean chuckled softly and told him, “Cas, if you wanted, I would go to all those things with you, even if I was yawning the whole time. Besides, the Natural History Museum would have dinosaurs and stuff, right? That could potentially be cool. It’s the kind of thing Sammy used to always want to drag me to.” Then a pause and he added, “and we can absolutely go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. A new date to commemorate our first date back in high school.”

A smile at that. Dean really did remember even the little things. It was still amazing sometimes. Cas tipped his head to press a kiss by the older man’s clavicle. “I’ll try to get that patch swapped over tonight, if you ever let me out of this bed.”

“Mmm…” Dean made a considering sound before tightening his arm around Cas’s waist. “We have all weekend to get that patch done, and this is a very nice bed, especially with you in it.” He joked, but then paused before asking, “do you actually still carry needles and stuff around with you?”

“Mmhm,” Cas agreed, “needles, thread and a seam ripper in my backpack at all times, you never know when they might come in handy.”

“Unbelievable.” Dean grinned down at him. “Did you know I adore you?”

“It may have come up from time to time.” Cas laughed, and lifted his head again, leaning up for a kiss. “I adore you, too, you know.”

“Happy anniversary.”

“Yeah. Happy anniversary.”

-- --

Some time later found them tangled up in bed (again), still stripped to their skin and Dean working Cas over as diligently and with as much attention to detail as he would give to any job on the road—absolutely focused on the younger man, who was arching and gasping under him while he kissed, nipped and licked his way down his body.

Cas had one particularly sensitive spot just under his navel that Dean liked to exploit every chance he got, and now was no exception. He nipped there lightly just to hear Cas gasp, then began sucking sharply, pulling up a little, purple bruise, all the while Cas made little “ah, ah” sounds and squirmed, his hands buried in Dean’s hair and his erection more than evident.

Dean laved his tongue over the pretty new bruise before ducking down to suck the head of Cas’s cock into his mouth, rubbing his tongue over it firmly. Cas moaned and tugged at his hair—and they had talked about the hair-pulling before, on multiple occasions, but the other man just couldn’t seem to help himself. Not when they were doing this, anyway.

So, Dean just ignored it for now and eased deeper onto Cas’s cock, sucking down the swollen shaft heatedly and with a pleased-sounding hum in the back of his throat because—he liked doing this for Cas. Sucking him off. He liked the taste and feel of Cas’s cock in his mouth—and especially liked the sounds the other man made while he did it. And if you had asked him, a few years ago, if sucking dick would be one of his favorite things to do? You probably would have gotten punched. But now? Now it was a completely different story.

“Ah… a-ah, Dean…!” Cas had his head back and his eyes squeezed closed, as if watching Dean go down on him would tip him over the edge immediately. Dean’s own eyes flicked upward, and he smirked around the cock in his mouth, just easing deeper, then starting to bob his head in easy motions, and sloppy.

Another few moments of that, of him giving Cas an unhurried blowjob and Cas squirming under him, and Dean pulled off his dick with a soft wet noise, huffing and licking his lips. Green eyes scanned up and down Cas’s body—Cas was sprawled out, obviously loose-limbed and pliant, breathing hard and a little, pinched expression on his face, somewhere between pleasure and pain—perfect—and Dean grinned before stretching to grab the lube from the bedside table.

“You ready for me, Cas?”

“…always.” Cas managed, his expression shifting into a little quirk of a smile and eased his legs father apart to make the next part easier for his boyfriend.

Dean settled himself half-propped between Cas’s raised knees and slicked up the fingers of his right hand, then capped the lube and dropped the tube off to the side to be retrieved later. For now, he focused on easing the first finger into Cas’s body, pushing deep and crooking it slightly to rub against the other man’s prostate. He could feel when he found it—but also knew because Cas gave a jerk and a moan.

And Cas took this part so well, so sweetly, always had, even the first time when he had been a total virgin and neither of them had known what they were doing with stretching him out. He had been patient, even then, when Dean had been tentative and fumbling with his fingers—nothing compared to the way he was now.

The second finger made Cas gasp out another moan, one of his hands down and pulling at the blankets now while the other one had returned to fisting in Dean’s hair, fingers tangled tightly in the soft strands. Two fingers was usually where they spent the most time, Dean toying with his sweet spot and drawing out the agonizing pleasure until Cas thought he might cry—until he was panting out sobs, sometimes.

Because Dean loved nothing more than to watch Cas completely unravel in front of his eyes, come entirely undone, fall apart like a marionette with its strings cut. Cas was beautiful in the throes of pleasure (he was always beautiful, but still) and Dean could never get enough of him that way (or any way, he supposed.)

The third finger was almost cursory, just to make sure that Cas was stretched out enough for his cock, though they had attempted going with just two in the past and Cas had admitted the added stretch and burn of the following penetration hadn’t exactly been a turn-off. Dean had filed that under Duly Noted for future reference.

Now, he just continued stretching Cas out for another endless couple of minutes, until the younger man was pulling at his hair (again with the hair-pulling) and breathlessly begging him to fuck him. And Cas rarely used that exact word, so when he did, Dean paid attention. He pulled his fingers back and wiped them on the sheets absentmindedly, then sat back on his heels and considered, licking his lips before patting against Cas’s hip gently.

“Roll over, Cas. Get up on your hands and knees.”

“Wh—” Cas began, but then just changed his mind, obviously figuring it out, and swallowed thickly, then carefully turned himself over onto his stomach—and lifted up onto his hands and knees. He swallowed again, glancing over his shoulder at Dean to ask, “is this okay?”

Dean just nodded mutely because it was more than just ‘okay’, already lifting up onto his own knees and lining himself up to push his own throbbing cock into Cas’s slick body.

They had fucked like this before, over the years, but only a handful of times, so it was still very new and different—and it would be fucking, there was no making love in this position. Cas’s face was flushed a dark red and his back was bowed slightly, his hands fisted in the blankets—and he just adjusted himself when Dean pushed into him, sliding his legs farther apart and moaning deep in his chest.

Dean took just a moment, his hands petting softly at Cas’s hips, to let him adjust, and then he started to move, a few slow, shallow thrusts at first but quickly picking up the pace until he was fucking into Cas hard and deep, their hips slamming together every time he buried himself to the hilt in the younger man.

Cas started out trying to keep his moans somewhat muffled, biting on his lip, eyes closed and head hanging, entire body jostling and jerking while Dean pounded into him, but soon he found himself panting out gasps and moans that just got louder the more time passed, until he was next thing to shouting, voice cracking, going hoarse around the edges with each cry.

Eventually, Cas’s arms, already shaky, gave out on him, and he half-collapsed forward into the pillows with a shout, hips still in the air but now at least able to muffle himself into the covers while Dean continued fucking him totally and thoroughly, the other man’s hands grasping hard at his waist now.

Cas scrabbled for purchase in the bedding, finding none, and eventually ended up grabbing at the headboard of the bed, his entire body jostling up and down along with Dean’s thrusts. His other hand, meanwhile, slid down between his own legs to start stroking at his own cock, slick and spilling precome in slippery blurts across the sheets under him.

There was nothing but animalistic want and need, here, and both of them were more than fine with that, at least for the moment. Dean continued thrusting into Cas hard, almost roughly, one hand coming up to shove his hair back out of his face before returning to Cas’s hip—until finally his climax edged up on him, and he backed off a bit, waiting for Cas’s telltale cry. He didn’t want to come before his lover, leave him hanging.

Dean didn’t have to wait long. Cas kept jerking at his own cock until he fell over the edge a short time later, coming over his own fist with a wrecked wail—and then Dean started thrusting harder again, working himself to the peak and over, swallowing a too-loud shout when he finally came hard and deep inside the other man.

Chest heaving, Cas waited for Dean to pull out of him, then carefully eased down onto his stomach. Dean shuffled around to lay next to him, settling on his side facing Cas and letting one hand drift down his back, gentleness in harsh contrast with what has just transpired between them.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized after a few minutes of them catching their breath, “that was…”

“A lot.” Cas mumbled, still face-first in the pillow. He finally turned his head to look at Dean—and just smiled, a little lopsided. “We don’t do that very often.”

“Because I’m afraid of hurting you.” Dean admitted, hand resting at the small of Cas’s back now. It moved when Cas began to shift, rolling onto his side to face Dean properly. “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, you know that, Cas.”

“Mm,” Cas agreed, “but I can handle some rough sex once in a while.”

“Cas…”

Cas sighed and lifted a hand to stroke along Dean’s cheek, his touch soft and reassuring. “Dean, it isn’t like you treated me like one of the monsters you Hunt. You just fucked me. Really thoroughly. You didn’t hurt me. I liked it, you liked it. So don’t feel bad. We can even do it again some time, just...”

“Just?”

“Just… notice. A little bit of notice, if possible. This time kind of came out of nowhere.”

Dean finally flashed a grin, “it did for me, too. Sorry.”

“If I’m walking with a limp later, I’m blaming it on you.”

“I accept full responsibility if I broke your ass, Cas.”

Cas rolled his eyes, but leaned in for a kiss, warm and affectionate. When they parted, he asked, “you think I could raid the minibar? I need a drink.” And then, to clarify; “a non-alcoholic drink. A ten-dollar bottle of water or something.”

“Oh,” Dean waved a hand in the direction of the minibar in question, “I already broke into the thing before you even got here. Have at.”

All Cas could do was laugh.

-- --

Later that night, in-between bouts of having sex—or making love, as the case may be—Cas sat down (on his miraculously unbroken ass) and removed the embroidered pentagram patch from Dean’s old jean jacket, which was very obviously on its last legs. The patch itself was worn, too, but mostly just faded with age. It was still recognizable for what it was. Cas sewed it onto the shoulder of the leather jacket with practiced hands and was done in no time, smiling to himself as he handed the jacket over to Dean to be inspected.

Dean seemed pleased, if the kisses he received as payment were any indication.

The rest of the night was spent just enjoying each other’s company, watching a shitty movie on the television and calling out for pizza to be delivered for dinner at nearly ten o’clock at night. They ate it sitting on the disheveled bed with the box between them, laughing and talking the entire time.

Even though they talked almost every day, it seemed like they never ran out of things to say to one another, and that was one of the astonishing things about Dean. Or maybe not so astonishing, considering his life. He had a treasure trove of wild stories that, to anyone else, would just seem like tall tales, signs of a healthy imagination—but Cas knew better. He had lived one of those tall tales. He knew all too well that they were real.

And Dean never seemed to tire hearing about Cas’s own, mundane life. His classes at university, his friendship with Alfie, his job at the Gas-n-Sip, what he did in his spare time, what he talked about with Charlie, Jody, Garth, Jo or Kevin when he video called them (especially Charlie.) He was as fascinated by Cas’s ordinary life as Cas was by his extraordinary one. Cas supposed it was true, the grass was always greener on the other side.

Once they were finished eating and had raided the minibar again for (expensive) drinks, they settled in for the evening, just spending the rest of their time quietly—making love once more, just warmly this time, sensually, heat and passion and closeness before completion, before turning in for the night just before one in the morning—actually pretty early, for them.

When they woke up the next morning it was just before eleven and they were in a sea of plush blankets and pillows—and it was snowing, just lightly, outside the balcony window. Cas cuddled closer against Dean’s side, his head resting against the older man’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, and quietly watched the stray flakes falling for just a few minutes as he tried to commit that exact moment to memory.

Dean, meanwhile, had one hand up, his fingers stroking through Cas’s hair and making him hum out a contented noise. “It’s gonna be chilly out today. You sure your trench coat will be warm enough?”

Cas made a soft positive sound in his throat and let his eyes close over, enjoying the fingers through his hair. “It’s actually very warm.”

“Who knew?” Dean chuckled, ducking in to drop a kiss by his forehead and then settling back again. “I wish we could just stay here forever, Cas. Just the two of us, in this room, in this bed, for the rest of eternity.” He sighed softly, “I love meeting up with you like this—I live for it—but saying goodbye after just a weekend together is always…”

“It’s hard.” Cas agreed. “I don’t like it, either. But… that’s how it has to be. I think we’re lucky your Dad even lets you come meet me at all.”

“Only because I don’t ask permission.” Dean told him with a tiny quirk of his lips, “I don’t give him a choice. I just tell him I’m leaving, and I go. I don’t even tell him where to until you’re long gone again, just in case, though he’d good at tracking people, he could probably find me if he really wanted to. He yells every time, though. About how I’m being disobedient and insubordinate and all kinds of other words they taught him in the Marines.”

“Your Dad was a Marine?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably explains a lot.”

Dean laughed and allowed, “yeah, probably.”

They continued their soft conversation for a while, just cuddled up in bed together, before finally deciding that if they wanted to go to the farmer’s market, they had to get up at some point that day. So, they climbed out of bed and showered, cleaned up and got ready to go out, Cas pulling on his trench coat and Dean is newly-pentagramed leather jacket, before they disappeared out the door, leaving a “do not disturb” sign on the handle on their way out.

Cas’s phone once again came to the rescue in getting them directions to the farmer’s market and they arrived just after one o’clock. The market was huge, with at least a hundred different booths and vendors, and Cas perked up considerably at the sight.

“I go to the farmer’s market in Tallahassee sometimes,” He told Dean, reaching to take his hand as they began perusing the market, “but it’s nowhere near the size of this one. There’s one stall, though, this old Polish woman and her daughter run it? And they sell the best pastries and tarts…”

Dean smiled as he listened to Cas talk. He was already privately making plans to go to the Natural History Museum next, even though they hadn’t really discussed it. It probably wouldn’t be entirely up Dean’s alley, just like the farmer’s market wasn’t, but it would make Cas happy and that was the importa—wait, that booth had pies.

Thoughts derailed for the moment, he tugged at Cas’s hand, heading over to the booth in question, a long table that was absolutely laden with pies of all sorts. Rustic, homemade pies. Dean paused there for a long moment and then glanced at Cas, who was looking all sorts of amused.

“It’s your money.” Cas told him fondly.

Okay, but how was he supposed to pass this up? And they had a mini fridge back at the hotel. Dean kept hold of Cas’s hand, tugging him along as he wandered down the table, looking at the various kinds of pies they had before finally releasing his boyfriend and digging out his wallet. “How much for the strawberry-rhubarb with the streusel?”

“Fifteen, hon.” The woman behind the booth answered cheerfully.

And damn, that was an expensive pie, but he was going to buy it anyway. He fished out a twenty and handed it over, retrieved his change, stuffed everything back in his pocket, then watched the woman bag the pie up for him, taking it with a smile and a thanks when she handed it over the table to him.

Cas was standing a couple of feet away with a little smile on his face as he watched the entire transaction. When Dean moved away from the pie booth, he reached to take hold of the older man’s free hand again. Dean just asked, “are all farmer’s markets so expensive?”

Cas just shrugged. “Generally, yeah. But you get what you pay for. I guarantee it’s a really good pie.” Then another smile and he added, “you found something for yourself at the farmer’s market after all.”

As for Cas, he bought a couple of apples from one of the other booths and found a hand-knit sweater at another that he seriously considered buying for his father but decided against in the end—because he’d come into town with only his backpack, so bringing home bulky souvenirs could be problematic. The apples went into one of his trench coat pockets for now.

They just continued on down the first row of vendors and tables until they got to the end of the row where—

“Hey, kid.”

Cas blinked and glanced sideways when someone called to him, then almost opened his mouth to protest because he was twenty, damnit. Instead, he stopped walking and in turn tugged Dean to a stop as well.

The woman who had called him was seated at a smaller table. It had a dark purple tablecloth and a literal crystal ball sitting in the middle of it. To the side was a deck of tarot cards. The woman herself was maybe a little older than them, wearing a long skirt and wrapped up in a shawl against the chilly weather.

Cas regarded her curiously for a moment before asking, “yes?”

She shifted in her seat, gaze roving up and down Cas before flitting up above his head and then back down to his face. She said, “I can see your halo.”

Beside Cas, Dean snorted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You two. You’re going to go through some very hard times.” She continued, and Cas frowned because was this her way of trying to drum up business? It wasn’t working very well. “Do you believe in soul mates? Because you two are strongly connected, and always will be, but… I see a lot of turmoil in your future. Things that may break you.” She hugged her shawl tighter around herself and offered them a vague smile, “you can get through it if you stick together, no matter what.”

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Dean tugged at Cas’s hand, “c’mon, let’s get out of here, Cas.”

Cas just continued staring at the woman. Finally, he asked, “how long?” And then, to clarify, “how long do I get with him, before it’s over?”

She shook her head. “It’s hard to say, considering all the variables. What you are. Could be a few years. Could be an eternity. It’s really up to you two.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cas, let’s go.”

But Cas tugged his hand free and dug out his wallet, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and depositing it on the woman’s table. “Thank you.” He said politely, before returning his wallet to his pocket and taking Dean’s hand again, allowing himself to be tugged away. Once they were far enough off, he squeezed Dean’s hand and asked, “you’ve never run into psychics, in all the Hunting and everything?”

“We have,” Dean grumbled, obviously annoyed, “but real psychics are one in a billion, and they don’t hock their wares at farmer’s markets, of all places. She was just screwing with us. And you gave her money for it.”

Cas was quiet for a long moment before adjusting his hold on Dean’s hand, threading their fingers together, and saying softly, “I don’t think she was just screwing with us. And she never asked for a dime, I gave her that money of my own free will. I think she was just trying to help.”

There was silence from Dean for a while as they continued walking the loop of vendors, not really paying attention to them anymore. Finally, he just blew out a frustrated breath and said, “I guess I just… didn’t like what she had to say. Is all.”

“Neither did I, really.” Cas admitted, tugging Dean to a stop again and easing close, leaning up to kiss him gently. “But we’ll be okay. We’re always okay, right?”

Dean finally smiled a little. “Right.” Then he bumped his forehead against Cas’s and asked, “you wanna drop this pie off at the hotel room and then go to the Natural History Museum?”

The younger man brightened at that, perking, and nodded. “I would love that, Dean.”

Dean’s smile brightened as well, and he angled for another kiss. “Alright, let’s go then.”

-- --

The Natural History Museum was surprisingly fun for both Cas and Dean, who turned out to have a bit of a secret thing for dinosaurs. While they wandered the prehistory section, he kept telling Cas which ones he thought he could take in a fight, which just made Cas laugh on more than one occasion. They had a good time. Cas bought a fossil shark tooth from the gift shop before they left, just because he liked it.

On the long walk back to their hotel they held hands and ignored the occasional dirty look they got from passers by. North Carolina apparently attempted to foster safety and equity amongst all of its citizens. Still, clearly not everyone was getting the message. But it was like that anywhere you went, really.

Over the last few years, Cas had travelled all over the country to meet up with Dean and not everywhere had necessarily been welcoming to them. Some places they’d had to stick strictly to their motel room and order food in, just in case—mostly because Cas was worried about someone starting a fight and Dean finishing it. It had happened in the past.

In Raleigh, the dirty looks were few-and-far-between, and no one seemed inclined to start anything, so they both felt safe enough to be out together and affectionate in public. Even if that got them accosted by strange psychics at farmer’s markets.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?”

Cas blinked out of his thoughts and glanced sideways at Dean. He hummed for a moment before shrugging. “We did my fun things today already. What do you want to do tomorrow?”

Dean grinned and leaned over to kiss him. “You.”

Cas rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. That was kind of a given. “I think we can arrange that. Maybe even a couple of times.”

Dean laughed and bumped his forehead into Cas’s temple before returning to walking normally again. “Some day I’m going to tell Sam exactly how much time we spend in bed together on these weekends, just to see the face he makes.”

“Don’t you dare.” Cas swatted at him with his free hand, “your poor brother.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mm?”

“Do you ever wonder, you know, about the amount of sex we have when we’re together?”

“I think it’s just because we’re apart so much. If we were living together, I think it would be different.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.” Cas glanced down, watching his feet as they walked. “I think being apart creates this… vacuum, almost. Between us. We’re just trying to fill that void. Make up for lost time.” He smiled a little, “make new memories to last until the next time we can be together.”

Dean’s hand tightened in his slightly. “Memories of you get me through some tough times, you know that?”

Cas looked up again to give Dean a smile. “Same here.”

Dean paused, then, tugging Cas to a stop and pulling him into a hug. “Don’t ever change, Cas. Just… always be like this. Always be mine.”

“I can’t promise I’ll never change. Change is part of the human condition, I think.” Cas hugged back gently when Dean sighed at that, “but I can promise to always be yours. I don’t ever want to be anyone else’s, not ever. And it’s been that way ever since we met, I think.” Easing back a little, he smiled at Dean softly, “I think that fortune teller at the market was right, at least about one thing. She asked if we believed in soul mates, and I… I think I do. And mine is right here, standing in front of me.”

Green eyes blinked at him in surprise—and then Dean was ducking in for another kiss, this time warm and wanting. Cas allowed it, kissing back in kind until they both broke away for air—and he leaned up to drop a kiss against Dean’s forehead.

“Let’s get back home, Dean.” Or, the hotel, anyway. “I want you to make love to me again.”

Dean’s reply was a muttered but enthusiastic affirmative and to take his hand again, threading their fingers together as they headed off down the street once more, this time walking at a little quicker pace.

-- --

Cas was straddling Dean’s hips again, but this time they were defiling the little two-seat sofa that came with the hotel room. Cas thought it pulled out into a second bed, but that was a moot point considering the two of them were sharing the actual bed, anyway. Regardless, now Dean was seated on it with Cas in his lap, Dean’s legs up and his feet braced against the coffee table—both to help hold Cas in place and, also, because this was that delicious position that rubbed Dean’s cock against Cas’s prostate constantly, made Cas absolutely lose his shit.

They both liked this position but for radically different reasons. Cas because of the frankly mind-blowing pleasure it provided, and Dean because watching Cas come completely undone the way he did got him off like no one’s business.

“This is not making love.” Cas commented almost idly, already breathing a touch hard from the foreplay alone. He angled his hips to rub his cock hotly along Dean’s and bit back a curse at the feeling. “Ah…!”

Dean rocked his hips upward lightly in response, then cast a glance toward the clothing scattered in a trail between them and the door. “I think ‘making love’ was out of the picture the second we got in here and you jumped me, Cas.”

“I did—not!” Another rock of Dean’s hips and Cas’s voice went high and tight. He swallowed hard and reached down to grasp at Dean’s cock, giving it a few loose strokes just to make his boyfriend groan. “I just—ah—helped you out of your jacket, that’s all.”

“Mmhm,” Dean’s head fell back, and he licked his lips, “and then my shoes, and my shirt, and my jeans, and my boxers…”

To be fair, it had definitely been a two-way street. They had hit the room and gotten the door closed and locked behind them—and then been all over each other what seemed like a breath later. There was no real way to tell who had instigated it, or who had taken whose clothes off, there was just the fact that now they were naked, Cas needed to be stretched out, and the lube was across the room on the nightstand.

There was kind of a collective pause when the two of them realized that last part, and it was followed by Dean cursing. Loudly. Then whining out a pathetic noise when Cas proceeded to climb out of his lap to retrieve the tube of lubricant. It was kind of important, after all.

When he returned, Cas just climbed back into Dean’s lap, straddling him again, and handed him the lube before whetting his lips and leaning forward into Dean’s chest, burying his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and closing his eyes.

They had never tried the whole stretching thing from this position before, and while Dean coated his fingers with slick with complete false confidence, Cas just breathed unsteadily against his boyfriend’s neck, entirely unsure how this was going to go. He was hoping well, all things considered.

When Dean reached down over Cas’s back and began carefully touching along the younger man’s entrance, Cas actually twitched slightly. Dean backed off immediately—and Cas chuckled against his neck, murmuring a reassurance that everything was fine: they had done this countless times before without hurting him, this time wouldn’t hurt him either.

Dean muttered a quiet agreement and went back to what he had been doing, carefully pushing one finger into Cas—then two—and eventually three. It was a process made more difficult by the angle he was working at, but the result was the same: Cas writhing and panting against him, arching and pushing down into his hand until the younger man finally, urgently, patted one hand against Dean’s shoulder and gasped out, “I’m ready… let me have you, ah… Dean…!”

“Cas…” Dean eased his hand away, sliding it up Cas’s back hotly and tugging him up to pull him into a kiss. “You know I’m yours…”

Cas whined out a pathetic-sounding agreeing noise against Dean’s lips, then kissed him again even as he eased back a bit, adjusting himself in Dean’s lap and sliding one hand down to grip the other man’s cock, holding it steady so he could line up and sink down over him—taking Dean into himself fully and deeply, with a long, low moan.

Then he just paused, back arched slightly and hands holding against Dean, one at his shoulder and the other at his chest. He panted softly, head falling back—and when he gave a little, tentative test rock of his hips he had to swallow a curse because the swollen head of Dean’s cock was pressing directly into his sweet spot.

But that was the thing with this position, it rubbed Dean’s cock all over his prostate the entire time they were fucking. It felt incredible but was so overstimulating it was almost too much to bear. It left Cas absolutely wrecked by the end. Not that any of that was a complaint… it was just a lot.

“Shit, ah…” Dean’s hands came down to rest against Cas’s hips and he rocked upward, just lightly, barely, but still drawing a soft whimper from Cas’s throat. “Cas… come on, move…”

Cas nodded mutely, biting on his lower lip, and braced himself against Dean’s shoulder and chest before starting to rock his hips, first slowly, almost hesitantly while he got used to the constant pressure on his sweet spot—then harder, deeper once he started to really get going.

He propped his knees against the couch on either side of Dean, with Dean’s knees up and holding him in position, and fucked himself deeply and thoroughly on his boyfriend’s cock, eyes closed and very quickly losing himself to the feeling of Dean against him, inside him, the pleasure that was absolutely pounding through him.

Dean just leaned back and watched the show with completely blown pupils, Cas rolling his hips and rocking overtop of him, the younger man’s fingers digging into his skin as he moved, head back and mouth working, breathless gasps and soft curses and oaths; things Cas only said when he really got lost in their lovemaking—or fucking, as the case may be.

Cas, meanwhile, was completely lost in the moment, in the push-and-pull of Dean’s cock in him, jamming against his prostate every time he rocked downward. And God did he love Dean’s cock. Had since the first time they’d slept together—even before then, when he had jerked his boyfriend off under the bleachers at school. Now Cas just focused on the feeling of Dean inside him, hands kneading against Dean’s skin as he worked himself harder on the other man’s dick.

When Dean moved one hand away from Cas’s hip, down to wrap around his weeping cock, and started to stroke, the end was pretty much nigh. Cas gave a little, breathless cry and rocked his hips downward, firmly, a handful more times—before coming with a panted wail.

Then he collapsed forward against Dean, gasping for air against his boyfriend’s shoulder, and continued rocking his hips, little whimpers in the back of his throat when Dean’s erection bumped against his battered prostate, totally overstimulated now. He didn’t stop, though, not until Dean finally locked up and came with a guttural moan of his own. Cas’s hips slowed to stillness, then, and he slumped against Dean, entirely boneless.

“Shit, Cas…” Dean had his head leaned back against the back of the couch and his hands rubbed soothing little circles at Cas’s hips, then drifted down his thighs warmly. “Did I mention I love it when you ride me?”

“Mmph.” Came Cas’s oh-so-articulate reply. He had his face tucked against Dean’s neck and his arms mostly limp at his sides. Dean was still inside him, gone soft now, and while normally that bothered him a little, this time he didn’t even care. “Feels too good… when we do it like this. So good it hurts.”

Dean smiled a little, hands rubbing up and down Cas’s thighs gently. “’S why we don’t do it more often.” He admitted, “I know you can’t handle too much of it.”

“Feels fucking amazing…” Cas murmured, almost a protest. He smiled slightly and brought his hands up, pushing off of Dean’s chest to sit properly again. “It’s just…” He ran a hand through his hair, “a lot. That’s all.” Then he shifted, wiggling his hips just to see Dean’s reaction—and stifled a grin when his boyfriend groaned and gave him a look. Cas chuckled and eased off, lifting up and off Dean’s limp dick and then dropping down to sit beside him. “Next time don’t complain when I want you out of me ‘too soon’ after, then.”

“You can be a real jerk sometimes.”

“You love me, though.” Cas leaned into Dean’s side and Dean wrapped an arm around him, already lowering his feet to the floor.

The older man came back with: “yeah well, you love me, too, so we’re even.”

“Mm.” Cas hummed a happy noise, entirely too pleased with himself, wanting nothing more than to make this moment last forever. He wrapped an arm around Dean’s midsection and squeezed, a gentle hug. “You’ve got me there.”

They stayed there on the couch for a while, just sitting together and enjoying their post-coital bliss. Dean used his fingers to tidy up the come that was smeared across his abdomen, licking them clean afterward. Cas watched raptly as he did so, then leaned his head back down when Dean was done, closing his eyes with a sigh. Dean leaned his own head sideways to rest against Cas’s lightly.

A few minutes later they were both about to fall asleep and Dean forced himself to move instead, getting up and pulling Cas with him. Cas made a soft protesting noise, and Dean herded him over to the bed where they tumbled into the soft pillows and blankets, tangling up together in a mess of exhausted limbs, the moonlight streaming through the balcony window now.

They were both asleep in seconds.

-- --

When Cas woke up the next morning it was to the too-early rays of the sun, an empty bed, and the sound of Dean’s hushed voice from the other side of the room. Sighing to himself, Cas rolled onto his back and flung one arm up over his eyes to block the light as he listened quietly to what was obviously Dean’s side of a cell phone call.

He could hear Dean pacing back and forth restlessly as he spoke: “I can’t, I’m not available and you know it! …yes, I have priorities, they just aren’t the same as yours, Dad!”

And oh. No wonder Dean sounded so agitated. Cas lowered his arm away from his face and looked sideways, watching Dean pace. Finally, he turned onto his side to face the other end of the room and sighed again. This probably wasn’t going to be good. Arguments between Dean and his dad never were.

“I take four days every three months, I am trying, here, and you just won’t give an inch, it’s—no! Being with him makes me a better person, makes me stronger, I don’t get why you can’t see that!” Dean ran his free hand through his hair, frustrated, then; “damnit, Dad! I said no! Two more days and I’m yours again, okay?! I—Dad, stop, I’m not going to—”

Then a pause and he lowered his phone and looked down at it before turning around and pitching it at the couch. He followed that up by bracing his arms against the wall and leaning heavily against it, head hanging down.

Cas immediately climbed out of the bed and crossed the room quietly, stepping up behind Dean and sliding his arms around Dean’s waist from behind. Dean made a soft surprised sound and dropped one arm down to rest his hand against Cas’s where they were clasped over his abdomen.

Cas leaned his forehead against Dean’s back between his shoulders. “I’m sorry about your Dad.” He said softly.

“You heard all that, huh?”

“Some of it.”

“He wants me to bail on you early for a job.”

“Ah.”

“I said I wouldn’t do it, and now he’s royally pissed at me. I think it just… cements in him the idea that you’re not good for me.” Dean sighed and squeezed his hand around Cas’s, then carefully straightened up and turned around in Cas’s hold to wrap his arms around his boyfriend as well. “Did you know you’re a bad influence?”

“I’ve heard, yes.” Cas gave him a soft smile. “Your Dad will get over it. He always has before, right?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Dean agreed—and then dropped his forehead down onto Cas’s shoulder with a despairing moan. “He’s so pissed, Cas.”

Cas brought one hand up to thread his fingers through Dean’s hair, gentle and reassuring. “I do understand, you know, to a certain extent.” He said softly, “your Dad has been through so much, the whole thing with your Mom and… I know if anyone did anything to you, I’d be out for revenge, too. I wouldn’t stop. So, I get it, your Dad’s… obsession. With the demon, and the job. With teaching you and Sam, and keeping you guys close and safe.”

They had been together long enough, were close enough, that they knew pretty much everything about each other. Dean had told Cas about his mom’s death, the circumstances behind it, and his dad’s reaction to it, long ago. He had told Cas everything about his family—everything he knew, anyway, and Cas had done the same, though he didn’t have the kinds of secrets the Winchesters had.

“I know he doesn’t like me, and I know he’s never even met me and that seems unfair, even to me, sometimes, but…” Cas continued threading his fingers through Dean’s hair and tipped his head to press a gentle kiss by the older man’s temple. “He just wants to protect you and Sam, and in his view I’m a threat to that. I’m a distraction. I knock you off your game. Or at least that’s how he sees it, probably.” It did hurt, that Dean’s dad would never know him—never like him, but… “he’s just trying to keep you safe, right?”

“I know that.” Dean’s voice came out muffled against Cas’s shoulder, until he straightened up again. “Doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though.”

“He probably won’t ever understand what we have,” Cas told Dean with a little smile, “so just… cut him some slack. He doesn’t get it, but he does care.” Then a pause and he asked quietly, “are you alright?”

“I will be.” Dean offered a little, vague smile and just pulled Cas into a tighter hug. “You always know what to say.”

Cas leaned in for a kiss, then started backing up toward the bed, tugging Dean along with him, until they both crawled onto the mattress and buried themselves in the covers, Cas tucking up into Dean’s side under the blankets. Outside, it wasn’t snowing like it had been the day before, but it was still chilly. Cas looked off out the window, his fingers toying with Dean’s pendant absently.

“No matter what your Dad ever says to you, just remember I’ll always love you, okay?” When Dean’s hand came up and the other man began playing with a few strands of his hair gently, Cas smiled and cuddled closer. “Always, Dean. There’s never going to be anyone else for me. You’ve spoiled me for other people.”

“That’s a lot to say of your very first relationship,” Dean commented, sounding amused, “that I ruined you for anyone else.” Then he paused before adding softly, “except I can say the same thing of you. I’ve told you before, you’re it for me, Cas. I don’t ever want anybody else.”

“Mmm.” Cas hummed out a pleased noise. “Then we’re in agreement on that point.”

The two of them fell silent then, just warm and comfortable together in their (for once) nice hotel room. Today was the last day, though, Cas had to catch his bus back to Tallahassee the next morning. And they didn’t have anything planned, after everything they had done the day before…

So they simply stayed in for the day, spent most of it in bed being intimate in one matter or another—whether it was having sex or cuddling up together or just talking and laughing together about nothing in particular—but also watched some more shitty television, and of course ordered room service because there was no point in staying at a decent hotel if they didn’t order room service at least once.

Dean had been completely keyed up after his conversation with his dad, but slowly over the hours they whittled away together he unwound, relaxing into the comfort and security of their relationship—of Cas.

When they fell asleep that night, it was after making love again—properly, deeply, with passion and feeling—and knowing that their time together was almost over. For the next few months, anyway. They held on to each other in sleep, almost as if to keep from being separated when the sun came back up.

-- --

At just after three in the morning, Cas and Dean were woken by a sudden and violent pounding on the door to their room.

Dean was up and out of bed in an instant, yanking on his boxers and hurrying to his duffle bag, going for his gun. Cas followed after him, scrambling out of bed and pulling on his own boxers, but then hung back while Dean went and positioned himself to the side of the door, up against the wall. He motioned for Cas to get down and Cas immediately followed the silent command.

More pounding. Dean cocked his pistol and called out, “who’s out there?!”

And another voice shouted back, “DEAN, YOU OPEN THIS GODDAMNED DOOR RIGHT NOW!”

Dean jolted slightly, then relaxed his grip on his gun and lowered it to his side. He waved for Cas to get up again, then, frowning the entire time, reluctantly unlatched the door and pulled it open. Dean was pushed to the side by the man who stormed into the room, and just made a frustrated noise before closing the door and locking it behind him.

“What are you doing here, Dad?!”

And ah, that explained… Cas shifted on his feet and forced himself not to take the instinctive step back that he really rather wanted to. Dean’s eyes were darting between his dad and Cas—but they finally settled on his dad when the older man set a harsh glare on him and snapped, “I told you I needed you and you refused to leave, so I came to get you! And here I catch you with your pants down! Literally!”

Dean made an annoyed face and held up the gun he was holding. “If it’d been anyone but you or Sammy they’d’ve been full of holes right now!”

“A gun won’t stop a demon, Dean.” John growled.

“I am fully aware of that fact!” Dean snapped, and stalked back over to tuck his gun away again before crossing to where Cas was standing and reaching to squeeze his hand lightly. “You okay?” He asked softly, almost under his breath.

Cas nodded—but that had just drawn John’s attention to him, and now he was pinned under the older man’s glare. He tightened his hold on Dean’s hand without even meaning to. “Um. Hi. I’m… Castiel. It’s nice to meet you… I think?”

John glared daggers at him, then turned his glare on Dean, who just glared right back. He continued holding Cas’s hand, defiant. “I’m not leaving until after Cas’s bus leaves tomorrow, Dad. I always see him off and this time isn’t going to be any different.”

“You’re ruined. This kid has ruined you. You’re a Hunter, Dean! You know better than this!”

Dean bristled at that. “Cas hasn’t ruined anything, he’s made my life worthwhile, Goddamnit!”

“Being a Hunter makes your life worthwhile!”

“I can be more than just a Hunter, Dad, I can have a life, I can—”

“Are you coming with me or not, Dean?!”

“I already said no, and I meant it! I don’t ask for much, but these weekends are important to me!”

Cas’s lips quirked into a little smile at that—and he tugged at Dean’s hand, turning to face him and pulling him into a brief kiss. “Hey,” He whispered, bumping their foreheads together gently, “remember what I said. He’s just worried about you, deep down. You shouldn’t completely ruin things with your Dad for me, especially since my bus is leaving in about… seven hours. Seven hours isn’t worth your whole relationship with your Dad, Dean.”

Dean hesitated and frowned. Across the room John was grumbling. “Are you sure?” Dean asked finally, “it’s seven hours, Cas.”

“Seven hours won’t kill either of us, just this once.” Cas assured him softly. “Just go.”

Dean hesitated a bit longer, but finally pulled Cas into a proper kiss, then let him go and stepped away, stooping to start picking up his clothes. “I’ll be ten minutes. Meet you in the car.”

John turned and unlocked the door, pulled it open—then paused and glanced back at Cas, a long, surveying look (Cas privately wished he was wearing more clothes in that particular moment) before ducking out into the corridor and slamming the door closed behind himself.

Dean was halfway to being dressed, already in his jeans and just pulling his shirt over his head. Once it was on and his dad was gone from the room, though, he returned his attention to Cas, moving back over to wrap his arms around the younger man and pull him close. “Are you sure about this?”

A soft, amused smile, and Cas nodded. “I’m sure. We can make up for it next time. Just go with your Dad on this Hunt and prove to him that I’m not quite the terrible influence he thinks I am.”

“I can’t believe he actually tracked me down and came here,” Dean grumbled, leaning his forehead down on Cas’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have been subjected to that.”

“He has a temper,” Cas admitted with a laugh, then patted at Dean’s side and repeated, “just go, Dean.”

More grumbling from Dean, but he did lift his head up and go for one more kiss before easing away and turning to start shoving his things into his duffle bag. ‘Packing’, as it were. “You should get some more sleep, Cas. Enjoy the bed a little longer. The room’s already paid for. Sorry I won’t be walking you to the bus.”

Cas sat down on the edge of the bed with a smile. “You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand.”

Once he was done tossing everything into his bag, Dean shrugged into his jacket and pulled his boots on, then picked up the duffle and moved toward the door—only to stop at the last second and hurry back across the room to lean down and kiss Cas again, hard and deep. “Call me when you get back home, okay?”

“Only if you call me when the Hunt is done so I know you’re alright.” Cas countered with a laugh. “Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean pouted but scooted out the door anyway, leaving Cas to lock it behind him.

Cas stood by the door and looked around the room for a long couple of moments, trying to ignore the depression that was edging in on him already—and the anxiety that was gnawing at the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like to think too much about when Dean went out on Hunts.

Finally, he went over and crawled back into the now-empty bed, flopping on his side with a heaved sigh.

He was just settling in when his phone pinged with a text message. First just once, but that one ping was followed by a whole series of them in quick succession. Cas blinked and leaned up, reaching to the bedside table and pulling it over to read the new messages:

[I love you.]

[I miss you already.]

[Dad wants to know if I’m texting you.]

[Should I tell him?]

[I’m gonna tell him hang on.]

[Oh God he’s totally losing his shit.]

[His impression of you still isn’t great I guess.]

[I’ve got to go before he MURDERS me.]

[MURDERS.]

[Seriously I love you.]

[Talk to you after this Hunt is over.]

Cas laughed to himself, shaking his head, then typed out a quick reply:

[I love you, too. Take care of your Dad. Be safe.]

Then he set his alarm and put his phone aside, wrapping himself up in the blankets and doing his best to go back to sleep. In the end he was less successful than he would have liked to have been—but at least the bed was comfortable, and the blankets still smelled distinctly of Dean.

It was when he was packing up to leave the next morning that he remembered the pie, previously (miraculously) forgotten in the mini fridge. They had been so distracted by each other that neither of them had even had a single piece.

THE END

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Cheap Motel

Cheap Motel https://ift.tt/FsURZby by senashenta Almost nine months ago, Dean and Cas met in the cafeteria at Caspar High and the rest was history. They fell in love, they fought monsters together—and then Dean’s dad yanked him off to the next job, leaving Cas behind. Now, Dean and Cas meet up for the first time in seven long months of being apart, of texting and phone calls and video chats, to try to make up for lost time and stock up memories over the course of a too-short weekend in a cheap motel in Amarillo, Texas. Follow-up to Horror High. Words: 14963, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Horror High et al Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Cas, Top Dean, Destiel - Freeform, just fluff and smut here people, Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, there are probably other tags but I'll add them as I think of them via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/KWose25 September 19, 2024 at 05:50AM

[senashenta]

Cerulean Blue

Title: Cerulean Blue

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: SO MUCH SEX.

Summary: Cas and Dean meet up in New York City for one of their weekends alone together, and it starts out perfectly: spending seemingly endless amounts of time together, expressing desperately missed affection, and of course, having sex. Then they go for a walk down by the pier and find… something. Something WEIRD. Something Dean should probably be HUNTING, except it’s not like any monster he’s seen before. Cas and Dean decide to take it back with them and try to salvage their week while the little beastie does it’s best to cause them nothing but trouble.

Notes: Right, so more smut and fluff, but Cerulean Blue has a bit of a plot in it as well, so it’s got that going for it! :D;; (Who are we kidding, we all know you’re here for the smut. :P)

Interestingly, the one thing I obsess over is the travel times and how long it takes Cas to take the bus to all these different places, so I make a point of being relatively accurate with that because my OCD brain insists on it for some Goddamn reason. In this case, it takes roughly 16 hours and 25 minutes to drive from Tallahassee to NYC, so I added four hours for stops, transfers and layovers (since Cas IS taking the bus) which brings us to 20 hours and 25 minutes, give or take. Ta-daa!!

ALSO. Thank you so much to everyone who’s left comments/kudos on Horror High, Cheap Motel and Counting Scars in the last week, it’s really been helpful in cheering me up a bit and inspirational for working on writing the Horror High sequel. I’m glad SOME PEOPLE out there are enjoying this series! <33333

HORROR HIGH et al TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

CERULEAN BLUE By Senashenta

[31 Broadway Hotel, 38 West 31st Street, floor 4, room 12.]

For once they weren’t really meeting at a city in the middle. Usually, when they planned their meetups, Cas and Dean picked a town or city in-between Tallahassee, where Cas was currently living for school, and whatever city Dean happened to be in at the time. That seemed like the fair thing to do, all things considered. Sometimes one of them traveled a little father than the other, but never too much. Cas had seen half the country over the last four years of his relationship with Dean, he thought, not that it was a bad thing.

This time was different, though: Dean had been in New York City on a job, so they probably would have met up somewhere in North Carolina or Virginia, but Cas had expressed interest because he had never been to New York City, so Dean had suggested, if Cas didn’t mind being the one to do all the traveling this time around, that he simply stay put and Cas join him. He already had a hotel room and everything, he would just extend his stay.

Dean’s dad, who had been with him on the New York Hunt, had been unimpressed, but then he was always unimpressed when it came to his son and Cas. This time he had only pitched a minor fit, though, before tossing his things in the Impala and taking off for the next town. Dean had counted himself lucky to get off so easy. Usually, it took at least an hour of yelling before his dad wound himself down.

Now he was puttering around his hotel room—large this time, with two beds because they had been accommodating both himself and his dad—taking down all the newspaper clippings and hand-scribbled notes pertaining to the job they’d just finished that were taped to the walls and tossing them in the trash. Not that Cas wouldn’t understand, of course, but he preferred not to subject the other man to it if it wasn’t necessary.

Once that was done, he ran a hand through his hair—and came up with dirt still caked against his scalp from the night before. Dean made a face and headed into the bathroom, showering quickly and washing off the grime. He was just stepping out when someone knocked on the door—and he grinned.

Toweling his hair enough that it wasn’t actively dripping, Dean then wrapped the same towel around his waist and hurried through to unlock the door and open it a crack. His grin widened when he saw Cas standing in the hallway, and he flung the door open with a laugh, “you made it!”

Cas looked at him, blue eyes skimming up and down the length of his body, and complained, “oh, come on, how is that even fair?”

Dean looked down at himself, still grinning, and shrugged, “you caught me at a bad time.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad time.” Cas commented, eyes still flitting over Dean’s body. Finally, he shook his head and pushed a hand against the older man’s chest, easing him back so he could step inside and close the door behind himself. Crossing over, he dropped down to sit on the edge of one of the beds with a huff, dropping his bag by his feet. “Twenty hours on a bus is exhausting.”

Dean made a soft sympathetic noise, even as he undid the towel from around his waist and started using it to finish drying off—including his hair, which was beginning to drip again. Cas watched him perhaps too closely. “New backpack?” Dean asked as he ruffled at his hair, then draped the towel around his shoulders and headed over to dig out a pair of boxers.

Cas blinked, then glanced down at the backpack by his feet. It definitely wasn’t his old one, didn’t have all the distinctive embroidered patches on it. “My old one finally died on me. I still have to transfer my patches over.”

“Yeah, it’s weird seeing you without the angel wings and stuff,” Dean agreed, pulling on a pair of boxers, finally, and rummaging for his jeans. “Sorry, you really did show up right when I was in the middle of getting ready. Hey, how’d you get here, anyway? This city’s a maze.”

“Taxi.” Cas shrugged, “I knew I’d never find the place on my own. Also, walking all the way from the bus station didn’t sound fun either and I have no idea how the subways here work. So.”

Though he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, Dean had at least managed to put some pants on, now, and tossed the towel in the general direction of the bathroom before moving over to sit next to Cas and leaning to kiss by his ear gently. “Hi, you.”

Cas smiled and turned his head to look at Dean properly, then ducked in for a real kiss. “Hi. Thanks for the show, I’d missed that.”

“Pfft. You just want me for my body.” Dean accused, grinning again.

It wasn’t as if they didn’t get time together when Dean was on the road; they talked almost every day, one way or another, and were even intimate—remotely, obviously—when Dean could get his dad and Sam out of the motel room for a while. Video call sex did the job, but just wasn’t the same as being together and touching each other in person. (Not that watching Cas touch himself and moan Dean’s name over the computer would ever get old, of course.)

Another brief kiss and Dean shifted back to really look at Cas. “You do look tired.” He decided, and set to work, manhandling his boyfriend out of his trench coat and then maneuvering him up onto the bed to lay down. Dean stretched out beside him and pulled Cas into his side. “You getting enough sleep?”

Cas hummed an absent little noise and slung an arm across Dean’s bare chest, fingers tracing against his skin gently. “I do okay.” He shrugged before admitting softly, “just… lately the nightmares have been bad again, so…”

“So, you really do need a few nights with me.” Dean finished for him, one hand rubbing against Cas’s side.

Because for some inexplicable reason, even after all this time, being around Dean still kept the nightmares at bay. Nightmares that Cas had been having for as long as he could remember, of another life, a horrible life, a frightening life, a violent and painful life—but also an astonishingly weird one, and one of hope and love and joy, at times.

“I took the week off.” Cas said after a moment’s pause. He shifted to look up at Dean. Today was Sunday and—“I don’t have to catch the bus back home until Friday morning. Is that okay?” Then he hesitated before adding, “I can always catch an earlier bus if it’s not.”

“It’s fine,” Dean assured him with a smile, his free hand coming up to stroke against Cas’s cheek gently. “Dad and I only just closed out this job, so I can afford to stay a couple extra days. Dad won’t be happy, but when is he ever?” When Cas returned his smile and then leaned his head back down, he added, “besides, I’m not gonna turn down the chance to spend a whole week with you, Cas… we haven’t had that much time together in a single stretch since high school.”

And that had been almost four years ago, wasn’t that a thought. It felt like longer—it felt like a lifetime.

Cas hummed softly, fingers still tracing against Dean’s chest. He ran one over the older man’s nipple just to feel it harden under his hand, then commented almost idly, “so you’ve got your work cut out for you this week, being my personal dreamcatcher and everything.”

Dean took a sharp breath in and licked his lips, then accused, “you tease.”

“Says the guy who answered the door wet and in a towel. And then proceeded to take that off to dry off and parade around naked, after over four months of not seeing each other.”

“I, uh… I see your point.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t jump you the second the door was closed.” Cas grumbled. He rubbed a finger over Dean’s puckered nipple again, just for emphasis, making Dean sigh out a soft pleased sound. After a moment, Cas added quietly, “it was too long, this time, Dean. Four months is too long. One hundred and thirty-one days is too long.”

“You counted the days?”

“I do every time.”

“Yeah, I… hate being away from you, too, Cas. You know I do. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Cas knew Dean and his dad had been in deep this time, Hunting something especially dark and terrible—something that had been hunting them back. Something so bad they had been forced to dump Sam off with Pastor Jim for the duration of the Hunt. And it had led them most of the way across the country before they had pinned it down in New York and finally dispatched it, very nearly at the cost of their own lives. It wasn’t as if Dean had been avoiding Cas; he had been doing his job, and his job was important.

They had still talked almost every day, on the phone or video chat, or even if it was just to send off a couple of quick texts, but four months was a long time for them to go without seeing each other in the flesh, so to speak—this was the longest they’d gone since the first time, three and a half years ago, right after Dean had left Jacksonville. They had gone seven months before seeing each other again, that time, and had promised never again.

The arm around Cas shifted, now, and Dean threaded his fingers into the other man’s hair, petting and stroking gently, soothing and apologetic. “Tell me about your dreams.” He said softly, “you said they’ve gotten bad, but how bad?”

Cas sighed and smoothed his hand up Dean’s chest so he could toy with his pendant almost absently. “I can’t even have a nap right now without dreaming horrible things. On the bus here I fell asleep and dreamt I was homeless, eking out a living from the trash… and then this kind girl took me home with her. We bonded; we had sex. Twice. And then the next morning she tied me to a chair and tortured me, then stabbed me to death. I could feel all of it.”

Dean grumbled softly at the sex part. Cas rolled his eyes with an amused smile.

“You can’t be jealous of a dream, Dean.”

“I can and I freaking will.” Dean grumped in response, but didn’t stop stroking through his hair, the touch warm and affectionate, “why is it that all your dreams have a touch of the brown acid, Cas?”

“How should I know?” Cas shrugged, “for that matter, how do I know what it feels like to have sex with a girl? I’ve never…” He blew out a frustrated breath and tugged at Dean’s pendant lightly. “Forget it, it’s just my messed-up mind making stuff up. I just need a couple nights of decent sleep and I’ll be back to normal. Right now, my brain is kind of fried.”

“You wanna have a nap now?” Dean asked.

“Can’t. I just got here, and I had a million cups of coffee on the trip from Tallahassee. I’m too wired.” Cas shook his head, then dipped to kiss against Dean’s chest gently. “Thanks, though.”

“You know what’s good for getting out energy and relaxing you, though?” Dean was grinning again; Cas could hear it. The older man shifted, pushing Cas onto his back and sinking down over him, leaning in for a kiss. “I’ll give you three guesses, but you’ll only need one.”

Cas laughed, legs apart now so Dean could settle between them and smiling up at his boyfriend in amusement. He hooked his legs loosely around Dean’s hips and met the offered kiss warmly, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. “You’re incorrigible,” He murmured against the older man’s lips a moment later.

“Guilty.” Came Dean’s agreement, already going for another kiss, “but you don’t seem too bothered by it.”

That was because Cas wasn’t bothered by it—not at all. He loved every part of Dean, every facet of his personality, and thought he always would. There was something special about Dean’s enthusiasm for everything in life—or almost everything. It was almost contagious, made the same enthusiasm swell up inside Cas as well.

There had been times when they had talked and he had been down, of course. Upset about his dad or Sam, or about the events of a Hunt. Angry. Depressed, even. But that was normal, right? Everyone got down sometimes.

And Cas was always there to talk him through it and out the other side, to bring him back around to the happiness he got from the little things, like diner burgers, cold beer and the motels that had Magic Fingers on their beds. Things like Cas himself, who was what sparked the most joy, more than anything else out there. More than anything else ever (except maybe his mom.) Things like…

Dean slid a hand up under Cas’s shirt, mapping along his side warmly as they continued to kiss, starting out with gentle little kisses and then sliding into a full-blown make-out session, hot and heavy and practically trying to devour one another while Dean pushed-and-pulled at Cas’s shirt until the younger man broke off—and pushed Dean back enough to strip it off and toss it away.

That was much better. Dean ducked back in to bite and kiss along Cas’s shoulder, then his collar bone, down to one nipple, where he paused to lick and suck for a moment, nipping at the perked nub and making Cas arch and gasp sharply. Dean smirked because turnabout was fair play.

Meanwhile, he eased his hands down and around to undo Cas’s pants, then hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged, leaning up to give Cas another kiss and murmur, “hips up. Lemme get these off you.”

Then he was back down, pulling Cas’s jeans off with a little cooperation from the younger man, who kicked them away with a laugh a moment later. Dean grinned and went for Cas’s boxers next, and they landed in a heap on the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Dean ran his hands up Cas’s legs and then ducked his head, intending to suck Cas’s cock into his mouth—but Cas stopped him with hands on his shoulders, a little shake of his head and a smile. “You, too.” He said simply, reaching down to tug at Dean’s jeans—the ones he had only just gotten into, ironically. He popped the button open and worked the zipper down, then pushed at the waistband and gave Dean an expectant look.

A soft, low chuckle and Dean shifted back and to the side, quickly shucking out of his jeans and boxers and dumping them off the side of the bed before returning to his previous position—only for Cas to stop him again, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging. “Dean.”

Dean huffed quietly, climbing up over him and leaning in for a kiss. “What is it, Cas? What do you want?”

Cas hesitated slightly before licking his lips and offering, “turn around, so I can too. At the same time, I mean. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Dean just blinked down at him. “I understand, yeah, I just wouldn’t have thought…”

Cas was trying very hard to ignore the fact that he was steadily turning redder and redder. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, just say so, okay?”

But Dean was quick to shake his head. He grinned. “I think it’ll work best if we lay on our sides, don’t you?”

This time it was Cas’s turn to blink. “I—yeah.” He agreed. “That sounds good.”

Dean continued grinning and shifted against him, rolling his hips so their erections rubbed together before easing away and onto his side next to Cas, pausing there as he waited for Cas to shuffle himself around as well.

This would be something… new. Not the blowjob aspect, of course, there had been a great many blowjobs over the years, but this position, doing it at the same time. It seemed a natural progression, but every time he and Cas tried something new, Cas got a little bit shy about it and Dean had to navigate the waters carefully for fear of turning him off. Now would be no different.

So, Dean went first, once they were settled, one hand coming to rest against Cas’s hip and leaning in to take the tip of the younger man’s cock into his mouth, sucking softly at first, gently, before slowly easing deeper, taking more of him in, sucking along the shaft with a low hum in the back of his throat that vibrated down Cas’s dick and made him gasp.

“God, Dean…!” Cas moaned quietly and pressed his forehead into Dean’s abdomen for just a moment—then eased back, licking his lips and took Dean’s cock into his mouth, sliding deep and beginning to suck, swallowing down the salty taste of precome with every movement of his tongue.

Dean pulled off his cock with a lewd slurping noise to laugh, “you know, some day the Big Man is gonna get tired of hearing you say his name like that and actually show up.”

Cas made a quiet whining sound, a token protest because not only had Dean stopped, but he didn’t even believe in God, so what was he even saying? When Dean just chuckled and licked at the head of his cock again before sucking him back into his mouth, though, Cas’s whine turned into a muffled moan and he rocked his hips just the slightest bit, silently urging Dean to go deeper.

It turned out that, actually, sucking dick while simultaneously getting yours sucked was a bit more difficult than either of them had originally anticipated. More so for Cas, though, who was more of a talker during sex than Dean was—he kept having to pull off and press his forehead by Dean’s stomach to mutter out strings of curses and oaths and generally whined nonsensical babble when things got to be too much for him.

Dean just found it amusing, and poured himself even more into the blowjob he was currently giving his boyfriend—bobbing his head, swirling his tongue, even scraping his teeth the slightest bit—he could worry about himself later, if it came down to that.

But Cas was nothing if not determined, despite the fact he kept having to take little breaks to swear against Dean’s abdomen and resist the urge to buck his hips. He gave as good as he got, sucking hotly up and down Dean’s cock, slurps and other lewd little noises as he eventually brought his hand up to cup Dean’s balls and knead.

Dean moaned around the dick in his mouth, brows drawing together slightly and starting to breathe hard through his nose. Every time Cas was going down on him and did that it got him off especially well. Now he wished he was within reach of the lube because if he could get his fingers inside the younger man? No contest. But definitely not without any lube.

So instead, he redoubled his efforts, sucking Cas off hot and heavy, sloppy and wet, humming in the back of his throat so the sound vibrated along Cas’s cock and sent the other man gasping into his stomach again, panting there, hips twitching as he tried not to thrust even deeper into Dean’s mouth.

Dean pulled off of Cas’s cock at the same time to cough out, “you can move if you want to, Cas…”

Cas closed his eyes and shook his head, hair mussing against Dean’s skin. “Don’t wanna choke you.”

“Oh, for—” Dean just dove back in at that point, sucking Cas in—and then pushing deeper, sucking in a breath and swallowing him down into the back of his throat, then swallowing around him rhythmically.

Cas lost it. His hips bucked twice, completely beyond his control, and he came hard with a breathless cry, half-muffled into Dean’s stomach. Then he just panted there while Dean continued sucking him dry before pulling off him with a soft wet sound, licking his lips and swallowing thickly.

“You cheat.” Cas accused; the words panted slightly.

Dean laughed. “Says the guy who’s literally got me by the balls right now.” And then, not unkindly, “get out of the way so I can finish myself off.”

But Cas made a stubborn sort of noise and just pushed Dean onto his back, then squirmed around, limbs a little wobbly still, until he was down settled between Dean’s legs—then went right back to work, sucking Dean off like he was being paid for it. And it was easier now, without the distraction of his boyfriend’s mouth on his cock, to focus on what he was doing, sucking and bobbing his head, nipping lightly here-and-there, then pulling Dean’s own trick and shoving deep, swallowing around him until Dean could do nothing else but arch and come hard with a loud moan, one hand down and tangled in Cas’s hair.

It had only taken a couple of minutes; he’d been pretty close already. Once he was finished, Cas pushed himself to sit up, swallowing down the slippery feeling of Dean’s come in his throat, and crawled up to settle next to him on the bed once more. Dean pulled him close and wrapped an arm around his waist. Cas tossed an arm over Dean’s ribs with a hum.

“Solid eight out of ten.” Dean said finally, smiling up the ceiling.

“You’re rating my blowjobs now?” Cas asked with a little quirk of his lips.

“No, I mean the position. Doing it at the same time.”

“Ah. I actually failed rather spectacularly at that, if you recall.”

“All I know is your mouth is fantastic and I came hard. Hence the eight out of ten.”

“Eight is decent.” Cas agreed finally. “So, we give it another try sometime?”

“Oh, definitely. It’s great feeling you try to hold it together while you’re getting your dick sucked like that.” Dean grinned, then added; “but next time not in my Dad’s bed. Because gross.”

Cas stopped at that, pulled his arm back a little and lifted his head to look between the bed they were on and the other one. “Why didn’t you say something earlier, Dean?”

All Dean could do was laugh.

-- --

They spent the rest of the day and that night mostly in the hotel room, with a couple of quick outings to a coffee stand around the corner. Since they had the time, they took down the rest of wall of newspaper clippings, articles and photographs that Dean’s dad had had put up for the Hunt they had just finished, tossing it all in the trash.

They stole the pillows from Dean’s dad’s bed and tossed them onto Dean’s—the one they would be sharing for the duration of their stay—to make things a little more comfortable (the pillows and linens in this hotel… weren’t great.)

They ordered pizza in for dinner. They watched an old black-and-white movie on the glitchy TV while they ate, and Dean pulled a beer from the mini fridge to accompany his meal. Cas just leaned into his side with a happy sigh, content with his cola and Dean’s company.

They made love that night, slow and languid and full of emotion before they finally reached completion together. Then they fell asleep, tangled up in each other’s arms, and just like magic Cas didn’t have a bad dream for the entire night.

When Cas woke up in the morning it was to an empty bed—and empty hotel room—but he wasn’t worried. Dean would come back, and he could take care of himself if something happened. So, Cas took the time to have a shower and brush his teeth, then got dressed in clean clothes that didn’t smell like twenty hours on a Greyhound bus; a fresh pair of jeans and a graphic tee that Charlie had picked out for him last time they had managed to get together. Cas actually knew who The Pixies were, miraculously, and Charlie said it looked good on him, so he just went with it.

Cas was just finishing toweling his hair dry for the second time and smoothing it out (mostly) when he heard the door to the motel room open, then close, followed by footsteps. He quickly hung his towel up and poked his head out the bathroom door, brightening when he saw Dean, back turned to him, working on locking the door behind himself.

Wandering through, Cas sat down on the edge of their bed. “Hey. You were out early.”

“Yeah, went for coffee.” When Dean turned around, he was holding a tray with two cups of coffee in one side, a half-folded paper bag balanced on the other side. He set everything on the kitchenette counter and motioned for Cas to come over. “C’mon, sleepyhead, breakfast time.”

“It’s only ten.” Cas protested, but stood and headed over anyway, “and I’ve been up for half an hour. That’s early for our weekends and you know it.” When he got over to Dean’s side, Dean leaned in for a quick kiss, then left Cas to inspect the contents of the paper bag—donuts of some kind. He didn’t quite recognize them.

“Cronuts.” Dean supplied as Cas pulled one out of the bag, “they’re a big thing, apparently.”

Cas shrugged and took a bite of the one in his hand, pausing to consider before smiling and offering, “mm, they’re good!”

Dean smiled back and handed him his coffee. “Three cream and two sugar.”

“Perfect.” Cas’s smile turned soft, and he took the cup gratefully. “Thank you.”

Meanwhile, Dean was opening up his own coffee (black, naturally) and plucking out a cronut of for himself. “So, how’d you sleep last night?” He asked around his first mouthful.

Cas sighed and leaned back against the counter, still munching on his own breakfast, sipping his coffee in-between. “I slept really well. I always do with you. No nightmares, nothing. Just… rest. I always feel rejuvenated when I can spend the night with you. It’s only been one night, and I already feel almost back to normal.”

“You ever think you might be an energy vampire or something, Cas?” Dean chuckled, finishing off his cronut and going for another, taking a drink of his coffee. “Seriously, you know I’m happy to help, even if I don’t know how I’m doing it. So, I’m glad.”

Cas was quiet for a bit, and they ate in silence for a while before he finally spoke up again; “you remember last year, that fortune teller in Raleigh?” He paused again, pulling out a second cronut for himself and taking a bite, chewing and swallowing before continuing, “she said we were strongly connected. Asked if we believed in soul mates.”

Dean frowned slightly but shrugged with one shoulder. “So?”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Cas told him, looking at Dean with an almost unreadable expression. “But I think she might have been right. We’ve been connected right since day one, haven’t we?” A little, soft smile tugged at his lips, and he glanced down, “what if you being my dreamcatcher is because when we’re apart, our souls are split in half? And when we’re together like we are now, your soul and mine kind of… meld. And yours protects me.”

There was a long silence from Dean—long enough that Cas was absolutely sure he was about to get a Soul Mates Aren’t A Thing lecture—and Cas finally glanced up, intending to apologize for being stupid, just in time for Dean to drop a kiss against his forehead with a small smile. “Yeah,” He said warmly, surprising Cas a little, “I say we go with that.”

Cas smiled a bit more, then leaned into Dean’s side slightly and went back to finishing off his breakfast. When he was done his second cronut and still sipping at his coffee, he asked, “what time did you get up, anyway?”

“Early.” Dean peered into the paper bag as if considering a third cronut, but then decided against it and folded the bag over again to save the last two for later. He took a long drink of his coffee. “I’m just off a job, so my body is still trained to wake me up at the crack of dawn.” A smile. “I did stay in bed with you for a while before I left, though. You’re gorgeous while you sleep.”

“My hair is a mess, and I drool on my pillow sometimes.” Cas deadpanned.

“Adorable.” Dean chuckled.

Cas would have protested more, but instead conceded, “I like watching you sleep, too.”

“When you say it, it just sounds creepy.” Dean joked.

Cas reached with his spare hand and swatted him in the arm. “Don’t be a dick.”

The older man chortled to himself for a minute or two while Cas gave him a dirty look, then settled into his side once more. They were still leaning against the kitchen counter, but it was a nice moment between them, regardless. Cas enjoyed all the little moments like these. He had always enjoyed the little moments between them, right from day one, from when they had met. They were… pleasant. Almost domestic. Made him feel warm in his chest.

Now he lifted his coffee cup to inspect it curiously, but it didn’t have any markings, so he asked, “where did you go? This is really good coffee.”

“Little artisanal place a couple blocks away.” Dean smiled, “found it last week while we were still on the Hunt. I think I’d drive cross-country for their coffee alone. Dad’ll drink any old shit… I mean. So will I, I guess. You get used to crappy motel and diner coffee. But if I can get my hands on the good stuff I absolutely will.”

“I don’t blame you.” Cas laughed, “I was spoiled. Father always insists on keeping really good coffee in the house, so I kind of grew up on it, once I was old enough to start drinking it.”

“Yesssss I remember the coffee the mornings after our sleepovers.” The older man sighed deeply. “That was imported, had to be.”

“Straight from a tiny farming village in the deep forests of Brazil.” Cas confirmed, amused. “Can’t remember what it’s called, now… Brazil Mogiana, maybe?”

Dean chuckled and finished off his coffee, setting his cup down but not going anywhere, staying where he was, propped against the counter with Cas leaning into his side. He just watched as Cas continued sipping at his own coffee—he always took longer to drink his than Dean did his own. “So, what do you want to do today?”

Cas paused halfway to a drink. He blinked slightly. Then he looked up at Dean, an almost blank look on his face. Normally he would have suggestions, but this time? “I have no idea.”

-- --

New York had a whole laundry list of touristy things to keep them busy for the week but for once Cas hadn’t been on his phone looking them up while he’d been on the bus there. He had just slept for most of the trip, instead, bad dreams and all. So, after breakfast they sat together, using Dean’s beat-up laptop (the browser opened to Busty Asian Beauties dot com and Cas gave him a look; Dean at least had the decency to look sheepish) and did some searches for attractions around the city.

The first and most obvious one was Coney Island, and Cas had to admit that he’d never really been to a place like that before—somewhere with rides and games and vendors, the whole shebang. Dean said his dad had taken him and Sammy to one or two over their childhood, but just little, rural fairs, nothing like what Coney Island would be.

So, it was pretty quickly decided that that’s where they would be going that day. Even if they both ended up hating it, they could just go down to the beach and take a walk along the shoreline. That would be nice, too, Cas thought, though pictures showed the beach to be a pretty crowded place.

With that plan in mind, they lingered around the hotel room a little while longer and then grabbed their things and left. Cas of course wore his trench coat, even though it was warm enough to go without it; Dean teased him for it, but Cas would rather be safe than sorry. What if the weather changed? And it had large pockets, in case he wanted to buy anything. Besides, he could always take it off and carry it if it got to be too hot.

At some point Dean just stopped arguing and started to laugh, steering Cas down the hallway to the elevator with a hand at the small of his back.

They hailed a cab and got themselves dropped off at the entryway to Coney Island, and both of them were surprised to discover that there was no entry fee to the park itself, though if they wanted to go on any of the rides, they had to pay for those. So, they just walked in and began to stroll the boardwalk, Dean reaching for Cas’s had pretty much right away. Cas just made a little pleased noise and threaded their fingers together, squeezing gently.

The boardwalk was bustling with people, and while Cas had gotten more used to crowds after moving to Tallahassee for university, they did still bother him a little at times. Having Dean with him, holding his hand, helped a lot. He could focus on the feel of Dean’s fingers twined in with his own when everyone around them started pressing too tight.

They walked down rows of vendors, first, though neither of them found anything worthwhile for the most part. Cas took a few minutes at one particular stall, though, which was selling books of all kinds. He picked up and put down one book—“The Books of Enoch: The Angels, The Watchers and The Nephilim”—several times before Dean finally huffed and snatched it from him, then went and paid for it himself, returning a moment later to shove it into one of the pockets of Cas’s coat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Cas told Dean once they were back hand-in-hand, walking down the boardwalk again, “I could have bought it.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have.” Dean rolled his eyes with a grin.

Cas smiled softly. “Thank you, Dean.”

They continued their perusal of Coney Island, stopping for ice cream and funnel cake on the midway before they reached the portion of the park that held all the games. And that was when Dean really lit up—he insisted on trying almost all of them, and successfully won prizes at most. Then he turned around and gave them away to random little kids who were walking past with their parents with a charming smile and a laugh.

One tiny teddy bear, a consolation prize for a game that he didn’t win at, went into Cas’s other coat pocket, though.

That was before the slinky drama. They got to a ring-toss game and Dean spotted a giant rainbow slinky as one of the prizes, and then Cas was forced to watch him play that bloody game for over an hour until he finally won and got what he wanted out of it. The grin on Dean’s face was huge, though, and Cas couldn’t help chuckling, smile fond as they headed off.

“You know that slinky cost you about a hundred dollars, right?” Cas asked as they walked, no longer holding hands.

Dean was busy unwrapping the slinky and playing with it gleefully. “I don’t even care!” Then he glanced sideways at Cas, paused in what he was doing, and looped the slinky over his arm before reaching for Cas’s hand again. “What do you think, beach now?”

“Unless you want to do the rides?”

“Nah, I’m good on the rides front.”

“Yeah, me too.” Cas agreed, then smiled and added, “let’s check out the beach, then.”

At some point over the course of the afternoon the sun had disappeared behind the clouds and a bit of a chill breeze was now coming off the ocean. Cas was fine in his trench coat, and Dean in the flannel overshirt he wore almost perpetually, but most of the beachgoers were starting to pack up and leave. Neither Cas nor Dean minded that, it just meant more time and space for themselves.

So, for a while it was just the two of them and a handful of stragglers—until the rain started up. Light at first, then harder until it was pounding down and everyone else scattered for the safety of the boardwalk. Cas and Dean scrambled across the sand and ducked under the pier, pausing in the gloom to take stock and deciding they weren’t too wet, all things considered. Beyond the pier, the rain just continued to pour down.

“Well.” Dean flopped back into the sand, settling himself with a huff. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a while.”

Cas continued looking around them for another moment before sitting down next to his boyfriend and asking, “are you going to let this ruin our date?”

“No.” Dean grumped. He pulled the slinky off his arm and set it beside himself in the sand. “Yes. Maybe.”

Cas chuckled and shifted around, propping himself up on one hand and leaning over Dean, ducking down to kiss him. “Don’t be grumpy.”

Dean hummed quietly and when Cas moved away, he reached to pull him back down, “hey, no, c’mere. I’ll stop being grumpy.”

Laughing, Cas ducked down to kiss Dean again, smiling against his lips. “What are you trying to do, here?”

“Make out with you~?” There was a little lilt to the end of Dean’s sentence, and he angled for another kiss, reaching up to tug Cas down on top of himself. Cas’s balance teetered and he tipped over, landing on Dean’s chest with an ‘oof’. Dean grunted softly but just grinned at him. “Much better.”

Cas frowned down at him slightly. “We are out in public, Dean.”

“Look around, Cas,” Dean glanced left, then right, before looking back at Cas. “We’re literally the only ones here.” And then he reached up, tugging Cas down again and dragging him into another kiss, this time deep and long. “Mmh…”

Cas made a soft protesting sound but even that faded out quickly and he found himself sinking into Dean’s chest, kissing back heatedly. Dean tasted of powdered sugar, pastry and ice cream and on the older man’s tongue it was even more delicious. He wondered, briefly, vaguely, if he tasted the same.

A few long moments later and they were making out heavily—and Dean had a hand up Cas’s shirt, fingers dragging against his side. And, Cas thought, he really should put an end to all this before it went too far. But then Dean broke away and ducked in to suck along his throat and that idea went right out the window. Cas groaned and arched his neck against Dean’s mouth, one hand moving up to thread into Dean’s hair, tugging gently.

“Dean…” He managed after another minute, “what are we, ah… doing, here?”

Dean bit at the crook of his neck, making Cas groan again, then pulled him even closer and asked with a grin, “what do you think?”

Cas swallowed hard and gave a token protest: “here? Really?”

“Really.” Dean’s grin finally faded into a reassuring smile, and he added; “there’s no one here to see us. The rain is so loud no one will hear us. It’s dark, it’s cozy…”

“It’s got all the sand.” Cas pointed out.

That made Dean laugh. He tugged at the lapel of Cas’s trench coat. “Instant blanket. Also,” He dropped one hand to grope in his own pocket for a brief moment before producing a small tube of lubricant. Cas gave him a completely blank look, even as he returned the lube to his pocket. The grin came back full force. “Just in case.”

When Cas still hesitated, Dean wrapped his arms around him and rolled them over, so he was laying half-overtop the younger man instead of the other way around. He leaned in to rest their foreheads together gently. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, obviously. You know I’d never force you. We can just wait out the rain and go back to the hotel and make love there, if you want. I just thought this could be… different. Fun.”

Cas started out frowning up at him, but as Dean spoke that frown faded out, replaced by a sort of… considering expression.

Dean had a couple of good points. There was no one else under the pier or anywhere around it right then, and the rain was still pounding down, it would mute any noise they made. It wasn’t like they would be having sex in public, with a bunch of strangers watching them. And Cas liked to think of himself as open-minded, he just hadn’t considered exhibitionism before—if this even counted, and he wasn’t even sure it actually did.

Finally, he gave Dean a serious look and told him; “if I get sand anywhere uncomfortable, we’re not having sex for the rest of this week.”

“But next time we meet up we’re cool again, right?”

“Dean.”

“Alright, alright. It’s a deal.” Dean ducked in to kiss him—and Cas kissed back despite his initial reluctance. When they broke apart a moment later, Dean kissed by his jaw and added softly, “we can stop any time, Cas, if you get uncomfortable. Just say the word, same as always. Okay?”

That made Cas smile again and he nodded slightly. “Okay.”

It was a slower thing this time. They began with Cas taking his coat off and spreading it out for them to lay on—and then almost embarrassedly taking his shoes off, followed by his pants and boxers. He refused to take his shirt off, wanting to keep as much of his clothing on as possible, just in case. Then he laid back on the coat and licked his lips, gesturing with one hand for Dean to get started.

Dean was still fully clothed when he pulled the lube back out of his pocket, spread the slick over the fingers of his right hand, then quickly capped the tube and stuffed it back in his pocket again. Then he ducked down to push Cas’s shirt up a little, trailing messy kisses along his abdomen and easing the first finger into Cas’s body, slow and deep. When Cas just shifted his hips and sighed out a groan, Dean smiled against his skin and added the second, both fingers stretching and parting, rubbing heatedly against the other man’s sweet spot.

And while Cas hadn’t started out hard this time, he very quickly stiffened up when Dean started playing with his prostate, working up to three fingers quickly, fucking Cas on them hard and deep, until Cas was arching and writhing, head back and moaning loudly—but still barely audible over the pounding rain.

When Cas was broken down to pleadingly panting for Dean—that was when Dean tugged his fingers out, pulled his hand away, and quickly undid his jeans, pushing them down just enough to pull his throbbing cock out. Then he settled himself over Cas, between his legs, and carefully pushed into the younger man’s body, sinking in deep and fast, making Cas bite back a cry.

This wasn’t going to be making love by any means. This was going to be quick and dirty, and they both knew it. But that was okay sometimes, was good sometimes, especially in this sort of a situation. (And how had Cas let Dean talk him into this, again? Cas threw his head back and laughed breathlessly at the absurdity of it all, only for Dean to drag him into a kiss immediately afterward.)

Dean began moving, then, quick, sharp thrusts right against his prostate that made Cas’s head fall back again, forced him to muffle loud little cries every single time. And his own cock was half-under the edge of Dean’s shirt, rubbing against soft skin—and cotton that was soft in a different kind of way—and they had never had sex while mostly clothed before. It was new and novel and not terrible by any means, although Cas admittedly missed the feeling of Dean’s skin against his.

One arm came up and around Dean, hand grabbing at the back of his shirt, twisting in the fabric there, and the other arm got tossed up above his head—Cas almost startled when it landed in cool sand, fingers curling in the fine grains, digging lightly. That wasn’t a texture or feeling he had previously associated with sex, and it was surprisingly jarring—but before he could think too much about it, Dean was back to kissing him and he returned to just moaning, panted and loud, as the other man battered against his sweet spot.

Finally, Cas lifted one leg to hook around Dean’s hip, the opposite heel sliding almost uselessly in the sand, and threw his head back to gasp out, “Dean…! A-ah…! So close…!”

Dean grunted out an affirmative and slid one hand between them to shove their shirts out of the way and grasp at Cas’s aching cock, beginning to stroke along with his continued, hard thrusts. He was jostling Cas up and down on his coat on the sand, but Cas didn’t even care anymore, gasping and panting for air, his own hips jerking and twitching until he came with a loud shout—it echoed under the pier, but was still, thankfully, drowned out by the rain falling around them. Dean followed after him, coming just a few thrusts later with a low cry of his own, again, just as covered by the sounds of the storm.

Then Dean slumped down over Cas, giving a pleased but breathless-sounding sigh against the crook of his neck, pressing meandering kisses there in a trail up to his boyfriend’s ear where he paused to murmur, “…you’re the best. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Cas replied, chest still heaving slightly. When Dean eased back onto his knees and pulled out of him a moment later, he groaned and shifted with a grimace. “Sand everywhere.” He protested, though he had a little smile on his face the entire time. He watched Dean tuck himself back in and do up his pants and asked, “happy, now?”

“So happy.” Dean agreed.

“I’m glad, now shake the sand out of my clothes so I can put them back on.”

A laugh, but Dean did as he was told, and soon enough they were both dressed again, albeit with sticky cum smeared under their shirts and a suspicious stain on the inside of Cas’s trench coat. It would have to be dry cleaned to get that out. At least it was on the inside. As for the cum, Cas hummed to himself while Dean lounged back in the sand and leaned over to lift the other man’s shift up, ducking down to lick the smears away from his skin—as much as he could, anyway, considering it was already starting to soak into his tee. Dean hummed and returned the favor a minute later, and then they both settled back to wait out the storm, pleasantly relaxed and boneless in the sand.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dean asked after a long, comfortable silence.

“I never thought it would be bad.” Cas corrected him, smiling up at the underside of the pier, “sex with you is always good. I was just concerned about the setting, that’s all. And just so you know, I wasn’t kidding, I have sand everywhere.”

Dean chuckled. “Sorry.”

“You are not. But I don’t really mind as much as I thought I would.”

“So, I’m not cut off for the rest of the week after all? Even though you got sand everywhere?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Awesome.”

The storm raged on for another forty-five minutes or so and they just stayed where they were under the pier, talking sometimes but more often than not just existing together in silence, listening to the weather howl around them. Eventually, though, the wind died down and rain petered off into drizzle, and then nothing. The sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds again.

They continued to stay there until the sun was shining brightly once more and other people started coming back down to the beach—at which point they got up, gathered their things, and started to head out—

Until something caught Cas’s eye.

It was down at the end of the pier where it ran into the ocean, in the sand just beyond the reach of the waterline, shining iridescent purple. Cas, trench coat tucked under one arm, blinked, then squinted, and finally abandoned his boyfriend entirely and wandered over, leaving Dean to hurry after him.

Once they were both standing over the object in question, Cas looked at Dean for an explanation, only to get an exaggerated shrug in return: the thing was large, a little over a foot long and maybe half a foot wide, oblong and shimmery violet in color. It had clearly come out of the water—was loosely wrapped in seaweed. Dean, ever the resourceful Hunter, started looking around for a stick to poke it with.

Cas, on the other hand, crouched down next to it and reached with one hand to touch one finger against it gently. It had a hard shell, but that shell was covered in almost a gel coating, like a cushioning barrier. It wasn’t slick or slimy, just soft. When Dean looked over and Cas was touching it with his bare hand, he gave a startled noise and squawked out, “Cas, don’t touch it! Hunting rule number one is don’t touch the weird stuff!”

“I’m not a Hunter.” Cas pointed out, fascinated when something inside the object moved in response to his touch. He pressed his entire hand against it, watching the movement curiously before pulling back. “I think it’s an egg.”

“You think it’s an—great. Great. Just. Perfect.” Dean came back over and crouched down next to him to look at it properly. “We’re going to have to take this with us now, you know.”

Cas didn’t even look surprised. “Can’t leave it here in case it’s something dangerous.” He agreed, already spreading his trench coat out—and then carefully, oh so carefully, picking the egg up and placing it inside, wrapping it up securely. His coat would well and truly need to be professionally cleaned, now. Once it was wrapped, he picked it up and stood, then waited for Dean to do the same. “Okay, let’s go.”

They walked back up the beach to the boardwalk with Cas carrying the egg gently and Dean looking at him like he was holding a nuclear bomb. But there was something about the thing that made Cas feel at ease. He wasn’t the least bit worried about the egg or what was inside it, somehow. Maybe he just had screwed up survival instincts, or maybe Dean was naturally paranoid because of his job. Either way, they were having two very different reactions to the maybe-egg.

A not-so-quick taxi ride back to the hotel and they got into their room safely, at which point Cas set the bundle containing the egg on the second bed and stepped back, looking at the little parcel contemplatively.

Dean stepped up next to him. “Your book and teddy bear are wrapped up in there somewhere.” He reminded Cas blandly.

Cas chuckled—then stopped and looked sideways at Dean. “Where’s your slinky?”

Several emotions flitted across Dean’s face in quick succession before he scowled and muttered, “fuck!”—he’d forgotten it under the pier.

-- --

After a lot of discussion and going around in circles about it, they decided the best place to keep the egg—(it was probably definitely an egg)—was in the bathtub for the time being. So, Cas carefully unwrapped it and took it through to the bathroom to set it in the bottom of the bathtub gently. Whatever was inside it was still moving, so that was good. Or possibly very bad, he wasn’t sure which. And the egg’s color seemed to be changing as well, fading from dark purple to a lighter, brighter pink. What that meant, neither of them had any idea.

He turned the light off and closed the bathroom door when he left, returning to the main room where Dean was on the phone with someone named “Bobby”, whom he claimed was the one to call for this type of a situation. And Cas kind of had to ask… what type of a situation? A “random potential monster egg on the beach” type of situation? That seemed pretty specific.

So, while Dean made his call, Cas rescued his book and teddy bear from his now (temporarily) ruined trench coat and stuffed the coat in the bottom of his bag to get it out of the way. The book and bear got tossed on the second bed for the time being, Cas smiling a little when he looked down at them in his hands. Then he dug out his own cell phone and pulled up the Skip app, ordering them dinner to be delivered to the hotel since it was about that time. Dean was probably starving—all they’d had for lunch was ice cream and funnel cake and Cas knew the older man simply could not survive on that alone.

The food was just arriving about the time Dean was finished his call with Bobby. He dropped his phone on their bed with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair before announcing, “Bobby says we’re both idiots and he’ll be here in a day or so.” Which, admittedly, was a much better reaction than if he’d called his dad. “He’s driving from South Dakota, it’s like a… twenty-three hour drive? If he floors it? So…”

It sounded like they had the beginning of a plan, at least, and soon they would have help with the potential tactical nuke they had stashed in their bathroom. Cas nodded, then just waved Dean over to the kitchenette counter where he was unpacking their dinner. When Dean approached, he basically shoved a burger into the older man’s hands and said, “eat. You’ve got to be hungry by now.”

Dean looked down at the burger in his grasp, then back up at Cas—and gave a huge, relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

Cas smiled but continued unpacking the paper sack. Two more burgers—one for himself and another for Dean just in case—and two little containers of fries that actually looked really good. Cas had just picked the place randomly off the app, since he had no idea about the restaurants in the area, but so far, the food looked decent. His smile widened when he pulled out the two little pocket pies as well and held them up. “Not the same, I know, but…”

“You bought pie, too?” Dean asked around a too-big mouthful of burger, “jeez, Cas, you share your ice cream with me at Coney Island, you let me fuck you on the beach, you buy me pie… it’s like you’ve got a thing for me or something.”

“Maybe a little one.” Cas agreed with a laugh, unwrapping his own burger and starting to eat and—oh. Yeah. Actually, this place had really good burgers, too. He absently checked the receipt for the name of the joint—Black Iron Burger—even though he knew he would likely never be back to New York again. “Anyway, you paid for the ice cream and funnel cake. And you bought me a book and won me a teddy bear. So maybe you’re the one who’s got a thing for me, hm?”

“Technically I think I lost you that teddy bear. That… ping pong ball fishbowl game was impossible.” Dean pointed out with a chuckle, going for another bite of burger.

“Doesn’t matter, I still love it.” Cas was enjoying his meal as well, just not with as much enthusiasm as Dean, who finished off his first burger quickly and reached for the remaining one, pausing to give Cas a questioning look. Cas nodded him on, and he was quick to unwrap that one and start in on it, too. “I’m sorry you left your slinky behind.” He added between bites, almost an afterthought.

A scowl from the older man, but then he just heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Maybe you’ll find another one some day.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-- --

With the Egg Of Potential Doom lurking in their bathroom, they couldn’t exactly leave the hotel room just in case something happened with it. If a maid came in and found it, despite them leaving the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Or, God forbid, it hatched and whatever was inside proceeded to run rampant over the entire hotel.

They sat around and discussed it, briefly, on multiple occasions, trying to figure out what it might be, and every time they came up blank. Dean just didn’t know of any monsters that laid eggs like that (any monsters big enough to lay eggs like that), and Cas didn’t know enough about the supernatural stuff to be of any real use, either.

In the meantime, they did have the room to themselves and the Do Not Disturb sign firmly on the door, so they made the most of it, enjoying each other’s company—and bodies—throughout the long hours that passed while they babysat the egg and waited for Bobby to show up.

Now, for example, Cas was on his back, stripped to his skin, moaning breathlessly while Dean not only worked him over with his fingers but also sucked him off, the sweetest kind of torture under the guise of getting him ready for Dean’s cock—which brought about the question as to why Dean was still completely dressed, actually, it seemed rather unfair given the circumstances.

Eventually Cas couldn’t take it anymore, and after a particularly good rub over his prostate he grabbed at Dean’s hair and pulled the other man off his cock, shivering at the slick, wet noise that followed and tugging him upward to drag him into a kiss. “Dean, take your clothes off and fuck me.” He panted against Dean’s lips, “please.”

Dean tended to listen when Cas swore like that, because Cas didn’t swear like that very often. He had been raised not to use words like “fuck” except under dire circumstances. But this? He considered a dire circumstance. He was going to lose his mind if Dean didn’t get inside him immediately.

So, Dean just chuckled and sat back, pulling his fingers away, and quickly stripped out of his shirt, then his pants and boxers, Cas watching him intently the entire time, eyes half-lidded and licking his lips, shifting impatiently in the sheets. Once Dean was naked, Cas reached to drag the older man down on top of himself, pulling him into a breathless kiss.

There was little preamble after that, Cas wrapping his legs around Dean’s hips loosely and Dean pushing his cock into Cas’s pliant body, making the younger man let his head fall back and sigh out a moan as he was filled up completely, perfectly content with Dean finally properly inside him.

Cas would live like this, if he could—but it wasn’t about the sex, it was about the connection. Being as close to Dean as he could possibly be. Sharing an experience that bound them together, even if just briefly. Sometimes he wondered if Dean felt the same—and other times Cas absolutely knew that he did.

This was one of those other times, when Dean started moving inside him slow and deep and sensual, making love to him even though he hadn’t asked for it, and reached up to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair, tugging gently and pulling him into a heated kiss—and Cas felt nothing but love and devotion in ever single action.

And this was what John Winchester was so afraid of, this side of his son. The side that cared so deeply and let down walls and loved with everything he had. Who didn’t want to be the dark, unsung hero, not all the time, not when they had this. Not when they had each other; when they could go out on dates and have sex on the beach or in shitty hotel rooms and eat dubious diner food and just be regular people sometimes.

Now, Dean continued rocking his hips into Cas’s, fucking him so thoroughly and deeply it left the younger man gasping against Dean’s mouth, panting softly as he rolled his own hips in response, meeting Dean’s thrusts with his own, everything slow and hot, the pleasure building gradually in his limbs, in his gut, coiling slowly but easing him toward inevitable release.

Cas dug his fingers into the back of Dean’s shoulders, then dragged them down his back, nails scraping slightly, making Dean hiss, before pausing at the small of his back to hold there, kneading, feeling the way his boyfriend’s muscles bunched and released, shifting along with his movements.

He always wished it could last forever, when they made love like this, and indeed, it seemed to—everything stretching into what felt like an endless span of time, just the push and pull of Dean inside him, over him, around him, kissing him like they had never done this before and possibly never would again. It was always perfect, and this was no exception.

But as with all good things, it had to come to an end. Eventually Dean’s thrusts became faster, harder as he worked them both to their peak—and Cas fell over with a breathless cry, hot come spurting between them, Dean followed soon after, burying his face in the crook of Cas’s neck to muffle a too-loud moan and coming deep in the younger man’s body.

There was silence afterward, broken only by the sound of their panting, and stillness for a few, long minutes, until Cas unwrapped his legs from around Dean’s hips and Dean eased away from him and rolled to the side, landing on his back with a huff. Cas shuffled around to tuck against him with a hum, ignoring the fact they were both covered in drying come for the time being.

A while later, though, he pushed away again and announced that he was going to have a shower. Dean leaned up to kiss him gently and agreed, promising to join him in minute—he just needed another second, so his legs were more stable before he went to stand under running water. Cas laughed and headed into the bathroom without him.

Once he was in there he side-eyed the egg slightly, then carefully picked it up out of the bathtub and set it down in the corner of the bathroom, before finally moving over to get the water going.

Twisting the handle until the water ran at the right temperature—Cas liked his showers hot—Cas pulled the pin to start the shower and climbed in, pulling the shower curtain closed behind himself. Dean would theoretically be joining him in a minute or two, and he was looking forward to that, despite the ominous presence of the egg in the bathroom with him.

Cleaning the now-dry smears of come off his abdomen was the first order of business, and it was taken care of with a washcloth and some body wash. That was the only problem with sex, sometimes, the mess that needed to be cleaned up afterward.

Cas went on to clean the rest of himself up quickly before turning to his thoroughly sexed-up hair, wetting it down and then beginning to scrub it with the actually kind of nice smelling hotel shampoo, the whole bathroom filled with hot steam now—and then he stopped, arms up and hands in his hair, because…

A series of cracking noises from beyond the shower curtain, followed by a kind of muffled pop and a hiss.

Cas froze, listening, and after a moment little, sliding, shuffling sounds could be heard along the bathroom floor and—shit shit shit. Cas quickly rinsed the rest of the shampoo suds away, and was blinking a bit of soap out of his eyes when the shower curtain began to move—

And a little, blue head and neck poked around it, bright eyes peering up at Cas curiously.

“Uh. Hi.” Cas said, the words nervous and stilted, then raised his voice to call out “DEEEEEEEAN—!!”

There must have been some urgency in his shout because Dean was at the door in an instant, slamming it open and demanding, “Cas?!”

The little creature, meanwhile, had clambered up over the edge of the bathtub and slid down inside. It was actually kind of… cute. But still. You never knew. Cas didn’t particularly want to be naked in the shower with it. He took a step back against the wall behind him, “the egg, the egg!”

Dean’s head jerked around, his eyes searching through the steam before landing on the egg, which, of course, was now cracked open and empty. Dean swore and immediately reached to yank the shower curtain open, bodily pulling Cas out of the bathtub with an overly suspicious look at the little… whatsit, that was currently splashing around in the still-running water.

“I’m fine, it didn’t even touch me.” Cas assured his boyfriend when Dean began checking him over. “It just… startled me.”

“Understandable.” Dean grunted, one hand still holding onto Cas’s arm protectively. “Look, I think… yeah. I think we’re just going to back out of the room and close the door for now, agreed?”

While they watched, the tiny animal slid back out of the bathtub and crawled over to the empty eggshell—then began eating it, crunching away, obviously content for the moment. Dean tugged at Cas’s arm and the two of them slipped out of the room, closing the door behind themselves with a click, the shower still running in the bathroom behind them.

Cas stood there, staring at the closed door, for the longest moment, before muttering almost blankly, “should’ve grabbed a towel.”

Dean snorted and went to the second bed, pulling off the thin top blanket and bringing it back over—he tossed it over Cas, who floundered under it briefly before finding his way out again. “There. Dry off. It’s a hotel, they don’t care.”

That was a good point, Cas supposed. Besides, the blanket would dry before they checked out on Friday anyway. So, he just set to drying himself off quickly, until he was left ruffling at his hair. “So, I really wasn’t expecting that. It just started cracking… I could hear it. As soon as the room got hot. Maybe it was the steam that set it off.”

But this put them in an entirely different situation, now. Babysitting a stationary egg was one thing—babysitting a tiny monster was entirely different. Cas glanced at Dean as he let the blanket fall to rest over his shoulders, draped around him like a cape. Dean was staring hard at the bathroom door, a little frown on his face. Cas knew what he was trying to decide—should they be killing the thing or not?

Finally, Cas wandered over to toss the damp blanket back on the second bed and set about pulling clean clothes on—his last set. He would have to take his things down to the laundry room and get them washed. That was the big problem in packing in only a backpack, he could only fit so many clothes.

When Dean eventually turned back around, Cas was tugging a fresh t-shirt over his head, and the older man squinted at it before asking, “what’s The Amazing Devil?”

“Indie band.” Cas replied, “one of my favorites.”

“And you were wearing The Pixies earlier.”

“Yes, Charlie picked that one out for me.”

“With the band shirts now.”

The banter was helping them both calm down after this latest plot twist. Cas dropped down to sit on the edge of their bed and Dean came over to join him. Together they went back to staring at the bathroom door, listening for any sounds from inside the room. There was just the continued sound of quiet crunching, but not much else.

“You know,” Cas said after a while, “eating its own eggshell actually makes total biological sense. A lot of species do it. The shells are full of calcium and all kinds of other nutrients to give the baby… whatever-it-is, a good start in life.”

“Thank you, Animal Planet.” Dean muttered.

Cas allowed it, considering the circumstances. He reached to take Dean’s hand and squeezed gently. “What do you think we should do?”

“I ffffffreaking… I have no idea.” Dean admitted with a sigh.

“I think we should go have a real look at it.” Cas offered, and then, when Dean gave him an incredulous look; “I know, I know! It could be dangerous! It could bite or spit poison or—whatever! But it didn’t seem threatening and… we should figure out as much as we can, right?”

“My God, you sound so much like Sam right now.” The older man’s head dropped forward, and he gave a weak laugh, “okay, just… I am not going in unarmed.”

Luckily, he still had some weapons in his duffle bag from the Hunt he had been on with his dad before Cas had arrived (his dad had carted most of them off in the Impala when he left, though.) Dean lifted his head and leaned to kiss Cas’s cheek, then let go of his hand and went to dig his bag out from under the bed. When his rummaging produced a machete and a buck knife, Cas almost flinched. Dean just handed him the buck knife anyway, and he took it without complaint, but was very sure he wouldn’t be needing it.

Together they approached the bathroom again, Dean leading the way and Cas close behind him. Dean cracked the door open, and they both poked their heads inside cautiously to peer through the steam.

The little creature was a good halfway through munching down the leftover eggshell, and looked up when it realized it was being stared at. It was about the size of a cat, almost reptilian looking with beautiful, cerulean blue skin and scales, a long neck with a small head—a head full of little needle teeth. It also had flippers for limbs and a short, stubby tail that was probably vestigial. It looked right back at them with huge, bright blue eyes that held a startling amount of intelligence.

Dean didn’t move, but Cas eased past him and into the room, crouching down and setting the buck knife on the floor next to him—Dean uttered a harsh “Castiel!” at that—then reached one hand out, palm down and fingers relaxed, the way he had learned to approach Marshmallow when he was in a bad mood.

After another long pause, the tiny thing turned around and kind of hop-shuffled across to him, sniffing the air the entire time, until it was close enough to investigate his hand. It sniffed all over, then nipped lightly just once, clearly testing, before licking the side of his hand, rubbing its cheek over his knuckles, and turning back around, returning to the egg and its meal.

Cas watched it go, then smiled up at Dean. “I’m going to call her Sally.”

“Cas, we do not name the monsters!”

“She’s not a monster, though.” Cas turned his attention back to watching Sally, absolutely fascinated. “I think she’s just… an animal.”

Dean grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back out of the bathroom again, closing the door firmly behind them. Cas went along willingly. He understood. This was something beyond Dean’s experience, and he was a little freaked out. He supposed to a Hunter something “new” was never a good thing.

“Your knife is still in there.��� Cas pointed out.

“It’ll survive.” Came Dean’s reply, grumpy. “You really think that thing’s okay?”

“She probably could have hurt me, at least a little, but she didn’t.” The younger man shrugged. “And we have to take care of her until your friend gets here, right? We can’t just leave her in the bathroom and let the shower run for hours. Besides, it’s the bathroom, we’re going to need to use it.”

“Why is it a ‘her’?”

“Because Sally is a girl’s name? Also, she has no external genitalia. Though I guess it’s possible her species just… has no external genitalia, as a rule.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

Dean went over to put the machete away again, then flopped backward onto their bed with a huff. Cas followed him over and crawled onto the bed as well, sitting next to him for a few minutes while he calmed down and then stretching out beside him, tucking into Dean’s side and leaning to kiss by his jaw gently. Dean grumbled but wrapped an arm around him anyway.

“It’s staying in there overnight; I don’t want it wandering around while I’m trying to sleep.”

“She. Her.” Cas corrected with a laugh, “but that sounds like a good plan, yes. Can I go turn the shower off now?”

“I guess.”

“Thank you.”

Untangling himself from the other man, Cas climbed back off the bed and went back to the bathroom, opening the door wide and going inside to turn the water off. Sally had pretty much finished off her egg at that point and he was impressed by her ability to cram so much food into her tiny body so quickly. On his way out of the room, he retrieved Dean’s buck knife—and then left the door hanging open in his wake.

Setting the knife on the bedside table, Cas returned to his spot against Dean’s side. Dean just wrapped his arm back around Cas without a word, and Cas’s own hand traced absent circles on Dean’s chest. “You never put a shirt on.” He observed, “when I yelled.”

“Didn’t seem like there was time.”

“But you put your jeans on?”

“Look, you don’t go into a fight blind, and you don’t go into a fight pantsless. I don’t make the rules.”

Cas laughed and reached up to thread his fingers into Dean’s hair, tugging him into a kiss. “You could have a shower now, you know.”

“I’m not that gross. I can handle being post-sex Dean for a while longer.”

“Mmm. Yes, I rather like post-sex Dean, myself.”

Dean’s lips actually quirked into a little smile at that—but then he paused when shuffling sounds came from the bathroom doorway. They both lifted their heads and watched as Sally hesitantly hop-crawled into the main room, looking around with bright, curious eyes. Dean scooted farther up the bed to get his feet off the floor and tugged Cas along with him, Cas rolling his eyes the whole time.

They stayed like that, cuddled up together on the bed, just listening to Sally explore the room for a while. She wasn’t doing anything untoward. Got into Cas’s backpack a little but that was his own fault for not zipping it closed and there was no damage done. Eventually they both sat up to watch her poke around. When she got to the side of the bed they were on she stretched up as far as her little neck would let her, then tried to jump—and fell, landing on her back with a frankly adorable squeak.

Cas leaned over to right her and Dean admitted, grudgingly, “okay, I guess she’s kinda cute.” Then he grabbed the hotel notepad off the bedside table, ripped a page off, crumpled it up, and tossed it across the room. Sally scrambled after it like a puppy after a ball and Dean actually grinned. “Did I say ‘kinda’ cute? ‘Cause…”

Cas settled back in the bed again, personally satisfied that they weren’t about to be eaten in their sleep, but having no doubt that Dean would insist on locking Sally in the bathroom overnight anyway, just in case.

-- --

They got to sleep late that night after letting Sally wander the hotel room for a couple hours and then corralling her back into the bathroom before spending some time just cuddled up together, talking about the logistics of keeping what was obviously a sea monster in their hotel room. There was a lot to discuss, but hopefully Bobby would be able to help them out with things when he arrived the next day. They finally went to sleep around one in the morning, curled around each other like always.

The next morning, they were woken up early to thrashing and splashing coming from the bathroom, just a general ruckus, and Cas stumbled over to check on Sally and make sure things were alright. As soon as the door was open, she bolted—as much as she could bolt—out into the main room and began searching for the paper ball again. Dean grumbled but it was good-natured grumbling, at least.

Once Dean managed to haul himself out of bed, the two of them left Sally on her paper ball hunt and took a shower, and then, when they were done, refilled the tub halfway for their new friend and left it like that.

Breakfast was shitty hotel coffee and the stale leftover cronuts from the day before, after which they set about the task of wrangling Sally for the next few hours, trying to keep her out of too much trouble until Bobby arrived around one o’clock. He must have been driving like a bat out of hell to get there so fast.

When the knock came at the door, they both looked up quickly, and Cas went over to check the peephole—which was pointless, really, since he didn’t know what Bobby looked like. He glanced back at Dean. “Older man, scruffy beard, baseball cap?” He asked.

Dean nodded. He was currently trying to redirect Sally away from his duffle bag. The bag was securely zipped closed, but she seemed determined to get into it. Cas just left him to it and unlocked the door, pulling it open. “Hello.”

“Hi.” The man said, then looked past him at Dean. “Dean?”

Dean waved for the man to come in and Cas stepped aside, then closed the door behind him, locking it securely. He swallowed slightly. With his track record with Dean’s dad, he wasn’t sure what to expect from Bobby, but still finally cleared his throat to offer an introduction at the very least: “I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are, Castiel Novak. John had me run the entire gambit of background checks on you years ago.” Bobby informed him with a snort, making Dean swear under his breath from across the room. “I’ve heard a lot about you over the last few years.”

Cas gave him a somewhat surveying look. “Good or bad?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Bobby answered truthfully. “if you ask John, well…” Cas and Dean both winced. He didn’t need to continue that sentence. “But Dean, on the other hand, he won’t stop singin’ your praises.” Finally, the older man cracked a lopsided smile and held out one hand. “Bobby Singer. Nice to finally meet you, son, after everything I’ve heard about you.”

Cas let out a little, relieved breath and shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, too.”

When Bobby let go of his hand again, he asked, “so I hear you’ve got an egg problem.”

“Actually,” Dean grunted, and finally just picked Sally up to get her away from the duffle bag, turning around with her in his hands. When Bobby just stared at him, Dean grimaced, “yeah I thought you might say that.”

-- --

“The Loch Ness Monster, Ogopogo, Champ, Morag… none of them exist, Dean, sea monsters, lake monsters, they aren’t real.” Bobby sounded incredulous. “They’re like Bigfoot, they’re myths.”

Dean’s eyebrows went up and he pointed at Sally, who was once again chasing her paper ball around the room. Cas watched her for a minute before looking back at Bobby. “Her name is Sally.”

Bobby gave Dean a look. “Her name is Sally.” He repeated sarcastically. Then he heaved a sigh and palmed over his face, “okay, so let me get this straight. You two idjits found this egg down at the beach, took one look at it, and decided to bring it home with you?”

A little half-shrug and Dean offered weakly, “it seemed like the thing to do at the time?”

“We reasoned that it was safer than leaving it out for someone in the public to find it. It was just right there in the sand under the pier.” Cas said.

“What were you doing under the pier?”

“Sheltering from a storm.” Cas responded, even as Dean simply replied, “screwing.”

There was a long silence, and it was obvious that Bobby was trying to decide whether or not to ask about that—but eventually he shook his head. “Where, exactly, did you find it?” Bobby asked, instead.

“Coney Island.” Dean told him flatly. “And that place is packed. We didn’t know what was in the egg, but it seemed that if it hatched it could be trouble. Better to have it with a Hunter, right?”

Bobby sighed. “I suppose so…”

“But then last night after I’d already called you it just… hatched. Ta-daa, baby sea monster!” Dean rubbed at his hair awkwardly, “she seems friendly enough. She’s kind of cute. But we don’t know how to take care of her, or how big she’ll get, or anything like that…”

For the most part Cas was keeping to himself, letting Dean have this conversation with his mentor. They didn’t need his two cents, really, Dean knew everything he did. But after a few more minutes of talking things out, Bobby’s attention shifted to Cas. He looked at Cas, surveying, searching, before looking back at Dean again.

“Hey Dean, why don’t you go out and get Sally some food? Let me and Cas here get better acquainted.” Bobby suggested, making Cas freeze and blanch slightly.

Dean, however, just smiled easily and stood, reaching to give Cas’s shoulder a squeeze and flashing a reassuring smile. He leaned down to drop a kiss against Cas’s temple before straightening—then stopping. “Wait, how am I supposed to know what this thing eats?”

“It’s obviously an aquatic predator, dumbass, try seafood.” Bobby snorted—and Dean nodded his head, grabbing his wallet off the counter and heading for the door. Once he was gone, Bobby turned his attention to Cas, giving him an obvious once-over before asking flatly, “state your intentions.”

Cas balked slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bobby fixed him with a look. “I ain’t Dean’s father.” He stated, “but I damn near raised him anyway. I ain’t John, and I ain’t gonna treat you like John does. But I need to know your intentions with Dean before I leave New York. And they’d better be good or by God you’re going to wish I was John Winchester.” Then a pause and he asked seriously, “you met in high school, right?”

“I—" Cas shifted in his seat slightly, swallowing, and nodded. “Yes, sir. In final year. We both transferred into Caspar High at around the same time. I…” He trailed off for a long moment before breaking eye contact and glancing down, “we became friends, and then started dating, even though Dean’s Dad forbade it. We got really close… we are really close. I’m closer to Dean than I am with anyone else in my life, even my own Father.”

“Mmhm,” Bobby nodded to himself, then waved a hand vaguely, “and he told you all about Hunting, the life?”

“Yes. He was walking me home from school one day and a vampire attacked us… me. He saved me. And… well, I mean, we both came out okay, but I guess he figured he had some explaining to do, so he told me everything the next day.”

“You’ve been together ever since?”

“Not… geographically. But in all the ways that really count.” Cas looked back up, smiling a little. “I… I love Dean, Mr. Singer, more than anything. More than anyone. He’s the most important part of my life. And I know—I know things are tough for him, with the Hunting and everything, so I just try to be there for him when and where I can. I just try to show him how much he’s loved, every single day.”

“Jesus, kid, you’ve got it bad.”

“Yes, I do. But it’s not a passing infatuation, I promise you that.” Cas’s smile faded out just a little and his eyes flickered down again. When he spoke once more his voice was soft: “I know it’s not possible, not with his life, but I would marry him in a second if I could. Or, forget marriage, I would leave behind my whole life to go on the road with him, even. But… he wouldn’t want me to be in that much danger. And he would be in more danger with me around. So, I never ask or offer. I just keep meeting up with him every couple of months like this for us to eke out time together.”

Bobby eyed him for another minute before shaking his head. “The way John rants about you, you’d think you were the Goddamned antichrist, but here you’re just genuinely in love with his son.”

“I am, yes. I would give my life for his, if the situation called for it.” Cas hesitated before adding softly, “and I think he feels the same way about me.”

Bobby studied him quietly, then, “and you’re okay with the whole arrangement, the way it is now?”

“It’s not ideal, but it’s the best we can do. The best I can do.” Cas smiled gently. “It would be worse not to have him in my life at all.”

“You’ve gotta understand where John’s comin’ from, though…”

“Oh, I absolutely understand. I’m the wrench in the works. Dean’s Dad has spent Dean’s entire life, practically, teaching him and training him, making sure he’s strong and safe and competent as a Hunter. I’m a threat to that.” A small quirk of his lips and Cas shrugged with one shoulder, “I would never purposefully do anything to hurt Dean, but when he’s with me he shows… softness. Weakness. He lets his guard down. And I get it, why his Dad is so against our relationship, he doesn’t want Dean to get hurt. But I also know… Dean won’t let me go. Not without fighting tooth and nail. And I’m holding on just as tightly. We have been for years now. We will for years to come, hopefully… so…”

“So, you stay apart as much as possible and meet up in shitty hotels when you can.” Bobby finished for him. After a pause he offered a smile, “I can’t say I’m not a little worried—for both of you—but it is good to see Dean so happy, and if you’re the cause of that then I can’t exactly hate you for it.” Then the smile faded, though, and Bobby fixed Cas with a serious look; “but if you ever hurt him, kid, so help me God, you’ll have to deal with me, and like I said, you’ll wish I was John.”

Cas swallowed slightly and nodded. He didn’t doubt Bobby’s threat for a second. “I love him with everything I have, Mr. Singer, and do everything I can to help keep him safe and happy. I swear I’ll never do anything to hurt him.”

“Hence the critter currently running around here?” Bobby tipped his head toward Sally, who was had caught up to her crumpled paper ball and was currently chewing it into mulch. He raised one eyebrow.

“That—uh—yeah. Was a joint decision.” Cas gave him an apologetic look, “we just didn’t think it was safe to leave the egg out there on the beach with all kinds of tourists walking around. It was Dean’s idea, too.”

“Of course it was.” The older man took his hat off to rub at his head and then put it back on again. “I need a big cooler.”

“Cooler?” Cas blinked at the seemingly random declaration.

“Yeah, to smuggle Nessie here out in.” Bobby clarified, “we can’t exactly walk her out on a leash.”

He had a point. Cas watched Sally gnaw on what was left of her paper ball for a moment before standing up, going over to take the mangled paper away and throw it out, then picked her up, and took her through to the bathroom. He set her in the half-full bathtub, then left her there to play and returned to his seat opposite Bobby.

The two of them talked about various things (but mostly his relationship with Dean) for a while longer before Dean finally returned. He was toting two bags—one from a little supermarket nearby and one from a burrito joint he had stumbled upon on the way home. He dropped both on the kitchenette counter and then crossed the room to give Cas a quick kiss. “I brought food for us, too, since we haven’t had lunch yet.”

Cas hummed a happy noise—“thanks”—even as Bobby gave a little, hidden smile at the sight. Then Dean returned to the bags and fished out a couple of burritos, tossing one toward Bobby and one to Cas. He pulled the third one out for himself but set it aside for the moment, instead turning his attention to the contents of the other bag, “okay, so the grocery store had a whole section of fresh seafood, and I had no idea what to get, so I grabbed shrimp, sardines and uh… those little squareish blobs, you know… scallops! I got scallops. And I guess we’ll see if anything flies.”

“Squareish blobs.” Cas repeated with a fond look.

“Shut up.” Dean told him distractedly.

Cas laughed and started unwrapping his burrito to take the first bite, watching curiously as Dean got out the little bags of seafood and then headed through to the bathroom where Sally started sniffing the air and perked up immediately. She had long since finished off her eggshell.

In the end it turned out she would eat anything, basically, and gobbled down all of the shrimp, most of the scallops and about half of the sardines before finally seeming to have her fill. Cas was once again impressed by the amount of food she could cram into her comparatively small stomach at once. Then again, she was probably already growing like a bad weed.

When Dean existed the bathroom, he tossed the remaining scallops and sardines into the mini fridge to keep them from spoiling, then grabbed his own burrito and sat down with Cas and Bobby to eat. The three of them were quiet for a while, but eventually Bobby spoke up again with, “so I figure there are a few big enough lakes in my neck of the woods, I can probably plant her in one of those and she’ll do fine. Lake Oahe, maybe.”

“How do we know she’s not meant to be in the ocean?” Cas asked around a bite of burrito, “we found her egg there, after all.”

“Yeah, but she seems to thrive in fresh water, right?” Dean shrugged, “maybe the egg just travelled through the ocean to kind of… drop it on a distant shore?”

“To better disperse the species over large distances.” Cas said, sounding surprised, “that might explain the spongey covering on the egg—to protect it from the salt water!”

Another shrug. “If you say so.”

Bobby gave them both a surveying look, “are you boys sure we’re doing the right thing, here? Sally could get big, and we don’t know what her temperament will be when she grows up. Might be better to take care of her while she’s little like this.”

Cas was halfway to a bite of burrito and paused, glancing toward the bathroom, where Sally was currently clambering her way out of the bathtub again to waddle into the main room, looking for attention. “I think… it’s a chance we should take. Not everything is a monster, you know? I think she’s just an animal. She deserves a chance to live. And she’ll do okay, as long as we don’t domesticate her too much in the meantime.”

Bobby chuckled and nodded his head toward Cas. “Your boyfriend reminds me of Sam a bit.” He told Dean.

“Ugh, don’t even say that.” Dean complained.

“Alright.” Bobby set the last of his lunch aside and patted his hands against his knees before standing. “I guess I’m going out to get me a cooler.”

And Dean just made a muffled confused noise. “Cooler?”

Cas laughed and shook his head, because he’d had the exact same reaction.

-- --

In the end Bobby came back with the biggest cooler he could find, as well as a smaller one as well—the smaller one was for fish and whatnot for Sally along the way. And also, probably, for drinks for Bobby, no one had any illusions over that one. Strictly soda, though, since he would be driving, and Bobby was staunchly against drinking and driving.

After another hour or so of lighter conversation—Dean hadn’t actually talked with Bobby in forever—they loaded Sally into the bigger cooler, along with a couple inches of water, sealed it up, and Bobby and Dean hauled it out of the hotel and down the block to Bobby’s car with Cas tagging along, carrying the smaller cooler filled with ice and what remained of Sally’s lunch. Bobby would have to buy more fish later.

They said their goodbyes to Sally in the parking lot, and Cas gave her a fond little scratch on the head before sealing the cooler again and sliding it into the back seat of the car. Bobby and Dean exchanged a small glance, but both of them were smiling the entire time.

When it came time to saying goodbye to Bobby, they both said massive ‘thank you’s and promised that they owed him one. Bobby and Dean hugged, and when Cas held out his hand Bobby took it—but then pulled him into a hug as well, making him squawk out a surprised noise. He did hug back, though, once he got over the initial shock of the whole thing.

“Well boys,” Bobby said as he was climbing into his car, pulling the door shut and looking out the rolled-down window at them, “I wish you both the best of luck.” And then he caught Cas’s eye and added, “sincerely”, before finishing with, “I’ll call you once I’ve got her dropped off at Oahe. She should be happy there. You know how to get a hold of me if you ever need anything. That means you, too, Cas.”

Cas smiled widely. “Thank you, Mr. Singer.”

But Bobby just waved a hand, “don’t mention it. But no more eggs, ya idjits!”

“We’ll do our best, Bobby!” Dean called, even as Bobby was pulling out and driving away.

Cas watched the car until it was out of sight, then sighed deeply and reached to take Dean’s hand. “So, this’ll be an entry for your journal.”

Dean laughed as they headed back to the hotel to figure out what they wanted to do for the rest of the week, “I definitely won’t be showing it to Dad, that’s for sure!”

THE END

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Counting Scars

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/b3Js89B by senashenta Three years after their first meetup in a motel in Amarillo, Texas, Dean and Cas are used to traveling to meet up with each other every couple of months or so. This time it’s in Raleigh, North Carolina, where they spend (most of) a weekend locked up together in a (not so) cheap hotel, making up for lost time and reaffirming their love for one another once more… until Dean’s DAD stops by unexpectedly to pound on the door and drag him away, anyway. Follow-up to Horror High and Cheap Motel. Smutty. So, so smutty. Words: 12080, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Horror High et al Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Cas, Top Dean, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Destiel - Freeform, Sex, Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, just fluff and smut here people, and a tiny bit of angst read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/b3Js89B

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Counting Scars

Counting Scars https://ift.tt/K39X8Eu by senashenta Three years after their first meetup in a motel in Amarillo, Texas, Dean and Cas are used to traveling to meet up with each other every couple of months or so. This time it’s in Raleigh, North Carolina, where they spend (most of) a weekend locked up together in a (not so) cheap hotel, making up for lost time and reaffirming their love for one another once more… until Dean’s DAD stops by unexpectedly to pound on the door and drag him away, anyway. Follow-up to Horror High and Cheap Motel. Smutty. So, so smutty. Words: 12080, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Horror High et al Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Cas, Top Dean, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Destiel - Freeform, Sex, Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, just fluff and smut here people, and a tiny bit of angst via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/utIpe2s September 26, 2024 at 01:03AM

[senashenta]

Horror High: Chapter Ten

Title: Horror High

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Sex, Violence

Summary: John Winchester plants his eldest son at Caspar High in Jacksonville because weird things have been happening there: people disappearing. People reappearing only dead and drained of all their bodily fluids. Cocoons. It’s up to Dean to figure out what’s stalking Caspar’s halls and deal with it accordingly; but then he meets the New Kid—newer than him, even, the New-New Kid—Castiel Novak, and all his plans get severely derailed. Now Dean has to juggle the supernatural case—a really hungry jorogumo—and also the fact that he’s very quickly falling in love, something that is absolutely forbidden by his dad.

Meanwhile Castiel, shoved into the third new school in a year because his adoptive father—Chuck Shurley’s—job has them moving around a lot, struggles to fit in at Caspar High, not only because he’s the New Kid but because he’s the weird New Kid. Dean seems like a saving grace, a harbor in a storm, someone who doesn’t judge him—that is until Cas finds out about Dean’s night job. Cas’s life just got a whole lot stranger—but that doesn’t stop him from falling for Dean, regardless.

Notes: Here we are, at the last chapter, for those few of you who actually stuck it out with me! A fluff and smut chapter with a high-ish note ending for you. And I have several follow-up one-shots to post after this as well, so I’ll be posting the first one, Cheap Motel, in a couple of weeks—or maybe sooner, if the mood strikes me, so keep a look out. <3

Thank you to those of you who actually DID read all of Horror High, and especially those who left comments or kudos. There weren’t many of you, and I appreciate you all. After the follow-up one-shots, there’s an actual SEQUEL to Horror High in the works, Storm Season, which will have chapters like Horror High has, but it’s somewhat important that you read the one-shots because Storm Season directly hinges on the last one.

Unless. Unless you don’t like smut, in which case avoid the one-shots like your life DEPENDS ON IT. They are insanely smutty, for the most part. :|

Anyway, thanks again! See you in a couple of weeks! :D

ALSO ON AO3 IF YOU'D RATHER. <3

HORROR HIGH TUMBLR MASTER POST HERE.

HORROR HIGH Chapter Ten By Senashenta

The next day Cas let himself sleep in until almost eleven o’clock. He was feeling much better, true, but he wasn’t back to one hundred percent yet, and Dean was right that he needed his rest.

When he came downstairs after getting ready for the day it was almost noon, and his father gave him a surveying look as if he was making sure Cas wasn’t still ‘sick.’ Evidently, he decided that his son was alright, because he didn’t actually say anything except to ask what Cas wanted for lunch.

After lunch, Cas spent a couple of hours working on homework to finish it off, because he knew he was going to be busy that night into the next day. He listened to music on his mp3 player (Dean had yet to make him a playlist, too distracted by the whole jorogumo thing) while he worked.

Around four, his father called up to him to tell him that Dean was at the door, and Cas dropped what he was doing to hurry downstairs and pull the older boy inside, dragging him into a pleasant, warm kiss. “Hi.” He said with a smile when they parted.

Dean just smiled back at him. “Hey.”

“Boys, please close the door, we’re not trying to air condition all of Florida.” Chuck called over from the living room.

“Sorry, Chuck!” Dean called back and reached over with his free hand to swing the door closed behind himself before returning his attention to Cas. “Well, you certainly seem like you’re in a good mood.”

“Yes,” Cas agreed. He adjusted himself to slide his arms around Dean’s waist a moment later, the smile still on his face. “I’m going on a date today. It’s kind of a big first for me.”

“Was that today?” Dean laughed and slid his own arms around Cas as well. “I told you, I’ve never really been on a date either. Not a real one. Not one that mattered, anyway.” Then a fond look and he added, “this one matters.”

The two of them stood there by the door together until Chuck finally told them to just go upstairs, already, at which point they climbed the stairs and ducked into Cas’s bedroom, heading over to climb into the bed, Dean on his back and Cas tucked into his side comfortably. They didn’t talk much, instead just soaking each other in in silence, enjoying each other’s company, just the fact that they were both there. Something they were both going to miss immensely.

About an hour later, Cas patted a hand on Dean’s chest and informed him that it was time for them to leave—they had to walk to Maggie’s Diner and at this rate they wouldn’t make it before the place closed for the night. Normally he would have been fine with just staying cuddled up with Dean for the rest of the day, but today they actually had real plans.

Despite their best efforts, it still took another half an hour for them to get out the door because they got waylaid by a minor make-out session before they left the comfort of Cas’s bed. But once they did get moving, they were downstairs and out the door in five minutes flat, with just a brief pause to tell Chuck where they were headed.

The walk to Maggie’s took about an hour, but only because they got a little lost along the way. They did eventually make it there, though, and Dean seemed pleased by what he saw: cushy booths, retro décor and even an old school jukebox in the corner. Cas wasn’t particularly familiar with diners, so he just took Dean’s word that it was a good one.

They found a booth along the back wall and slid into their seats, facing each other because they couldn’t be counted on to keep their hands to themselves, and the waitress came by quickly to drop off menus and take their drink orders, returning a short time later with their drinks and to take their food orders.

Once their food arrived Dean began eating like he was starving, the same as always, while Cas just smiled into his drink at the sight.

“So how are you liking your first date, so far?” Dean asked when he took a break from his burger for a drink of his cola.

“It’s good.” Cas was mostly finished with his own burger and picking at his fries now, “it’s just nice to spend time with you, though. It’s always nice to spend time with you.”

Dean gave him a smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“You’ve been a lot of firsts for me, you know.” Cas admitted softly, “first date, yes, but also first friend at Caspar… first boyfriend. First relationship at all. First kiss. First… time.” It was no wonder that Dean meant so much to him, given how many firsts he’d had with the other boy. Cas smiled absently, eyes on the plate of fries in front of him. Then his smile widened a little and he glanced up before adding, “first monster Hunt.”

Dean frowned at him just slightly, halfway to a bite of cheeseburger. “Not funny.”

“I thought it was funny.” When Dean continued to frown at him, Cas sighed, “I guess we’re not to the point we can joke about it, yet.”

“It’s only been like a week.” Dean pointed out, this time around a bite of burger, “you’re still hurt. No joking until the hurt is gone.”

“…okay.” Cas finally agreed, and went back to eating his food, “sorry.”

“Don’t gotta apologize.” The older boy shrugged and reached across the table to snag a couple of fries off Cas’s plate. He had already finished his own. Dean’s appetite would never fail to amaze him. “And we can talk about all that other stuff, if you want.”

Cas tilted his head slightly, curiously, and asked, “why did you approach me… on that first day, in the cafeteria?”

“Because…” Dean paused with a fry halfway to his mouth and frowned slightly before giving him a frankly adorable grin; “because you were cute.”

“Dean, you’d never liked a guy before. You can’t say you took one look at me and instantly turned gay.”

“Bi.” Dean corrected, “and I’ve always been, I just… never acted on it before. Also, you looked really lost, and I knew exactly the kind of shit those assholes were going to try to pull at lunch. I couldn’t ignore that.” He shrugged, but then gave Cas a genuine smile again, “but yeah… Cas, I liked you right from the start. Why do you think I started walking you home and everything?”

“But… I kissed you, first.” Cas stated almost blankly.

Another shrug. “I would’ve made a move, you just beat me to it.”

Cas was completely blindsided by this new information. He just stared at Dean for the longest time, trying to digest everything he had just learned, while Dean continued to help himself to Cas’s not-quite-leftover fries. And he had been nervous about his crush on Dean. Worried about how the other teen would respond when he found out. And all along, Dean had been…

That was about when the waitress, blonde and pretty, approached the table again. Dean was still pilfering fries, but looked up long enough to give her a winning smile and ask, “do you guys have pie?”

“Cherry or apple, hon?” She smiled back.

Cas privately didn’t like the way she was smiling at his boyfriend but kept it to himself. He knew it was her job to be friendly. Dean just tipped his head and said, “oh, definitely cherry.”

“I can do that, sweetheart.”

Dean grinned up at her. “Thanks.”

“Stop flirting with the waitress.” Cas finally muttered with a small frown.

Dean blinked slightly and returned his attention to Cas, looking surprised, even as the waitress gave Cas a knowing little smile and told him in an almost conspiratorial whisper, “don’t worry about it, darlin’, your boyfriend here’s obviously only got eyes for you.” Then she spun around and headed off, presumably to get Dean a slice of pie.

Cas watched her leave, still frowning a bit, before looking back at Dean. “Sorry.”

But Dean was just regarding him with the utmost fondness in his eyes. He grabbed Cas’s plate and shoved it to the side, then reached across the table to take hold of one of Cas’s hands, squeezing gently. “You’re totally jealous right now.”

“I—” Cas wanted to deny it, but it was pretty obvious. He frowned some more. “Stop flirting with the waitress and I’ll stop being jealous.”

“I wasn’t! …at least not on purpose. Was I?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, I mean, that’s just kind of bad habit I picked up on the road.” Dean gave him an apologetic look, “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”

Jealousy was a new emotion for Cas. He had never been in a relationship that might require it, until now. It was strange and awkward and an uncomfortable feeling deep in his chest. He didn’t like it—but at the same time, he couldn’t exactly help it, either. “I’m not mad,” He said quietly after a brief consideration. He moved his hand in Dean’s, threading their fingers together, “just try not to do it anymore when I’m around? It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like it.”

“I really am sorry. I won’t do it again.” Another apology. Dean squeezed his hand again. “You know you’re it for me, Cas.”

Cas glanced down, then back up with a little smile. “I know. Same.” Then a pause before; “you ate all my french fries, Dean.”

Dean laughed and grinned. “I’ll share my pie with you. And trust me when I say that’s not something I offer up lightly.”

Cas gave a soft chuckle at that. “I know about your legendary love of pie.”

“Legendary?”

“According to Sam, yes.”

“I’m not that bad.” Dean protested.

“You are.” Cas confirmed, but then allowed softly, “but I understand why.”

They continued talking, just quietly between themselves, and when the waitress brought the pie around, she winked at Cas, not Dean. Cas just blinked back at her, and she walked away laughing. Dean grinned over the entire scene before handing Cas a fork and waving for him to have the first bite—which Cas did, but then left the entire rest of the slice of pie for Dean, because he was obviously having a torrid love affair with it and Cas couldn’t bring himself to break up the party.

When they were finished with their food and Dean had paid the bill, they vacated Maggie’s and headed out into the evening air. The sun would go down in an hour or so, but for now they had the last bit of daylight to enjoy before the stars came out in full force. But either way was fine with them, really.

They wandered the streets for a while after that, just randomly, enjoying each other’s company, talking and laughing—until they realized they were completely lost and had to use the maps feature on Cas’s phone to find their way back to his street. Even having lived there for a couple of months, neither of them had any clue of the layout of the city, not really.

“I recognize this street,” Dean declared finally, after what felt like hours of walking around in circles. Not that it had been unpleasant, the entire idea had been for them to go for a walk together, like a ‘normal’ couple, and just pretend that everything wasn’t as screwed up as it actually was in reality, but they did have to get back to Cas’s place at some point.

Now they were on Lachley Street, which was only a couple of streets off of James, which crossed King, which of course was the one Cas lived on. Cas put his phone (and its’ maps) away and reached to take hold of Dean’s hand again with a hum. By now the sun had well and truly abandoned them and they were walking by the moonlight alone, not that that was a problem for either of them.

“When you leave,” Cas said after another half-block of walking in silence, “will you say goodbye?”

“What? Why would you even—” Dean cut himself off with a shake of his head and offered a smile, “of course, Cas.”

“Promise?” Cas tightened his hand in Dean’s slightly. For some reason, this felt important. The idea of Dean taking off without even seeking him out to say a final goodbye made something in his gut clench up. Was almost painful. “I don’t want you to go without saying goodbye first.”

“Cas,” Dean tugged him to a stop and pulled him in to bump their foreheads together lightly, “I promise, okay?”

Cas just looked at him for the longest time before nodding. “Okay.”

A little, gentle kiss. “Okay. Now lets’ get back to your place. It’s getting late.”

The younger boy smiled again, just a little, fond quirk of his lips, and they headed off.

-- --

When they got back to Cas’s house it was after nine o’clock and Cas just went straight inside, pulling Dean along with him. There was no standing around on the front porch exchanging little, lingering kisses until Dean finally had to leave like usual. Cas’s father was in the living room watching television and glanced over when they came in the door. He paused when he saw Dean and raised an eyebrow.

“Hello, Dean.” He was more a question than a statement.

“Hi, Chuck,” Dean greeted, not quite meeting his eyes.

Chuck turned his gaze to Cas, who just said, “we’re going upstairs,” and then followed that up by stating matter-of-factly; “Dean is staying the night.”

Chuck made a surprised noise. “Cas—”

“I’ll be eighteen in six months, Father.” Cas had already taken his shoes off and urged Dean to do the same, though Dean was hesitating because he was half expecting to get kicked out any minute now. “I’m old enough for my boyfriend to sleep over.” Then, after a pause, “besides, it’s not like we haven’t already done things. You’d be a little too late to stop us, now.”

Chuck’s eyebrows practically shot into his hairline, and he asked, half-seriously, “who are you and what have you done with Castiel?”

Cas actually smiled at that. “I’m growing up. I think it’s about time.”

There was a long, drawn-out silence, and then Chuck waved a hand and turned his attention back to the television. Cas finally got Dean to take his shoes off and they headed upstairs—only for Chuck to call out, when they were halfway up the staircase, “USE A CONDOM!” And then; “DO YOU HAVE CONDOMS? I CAN GIVE YOU SOME MORE IF YOU DON’T HAVE ANY—”

“NO!” Cas half-tripped over a step, face turning red, and called back, “we’re good, thanks!” Then he hurried the rest of the way up the stairs and hustled Dean into his room, closing the door firmly behind them before his father could say anything else. That had been embarrassing to say the least.

Safely inside his room, Cas leaned back against the closed door for a moment to catch his breath. His father had always been one to tease, but that was excessive even for him. Meanwhile, Dean just shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the desk chair like usual, then wandered over to the chronically-unmade bed and climbed in, settling himself amongst the pillows and blankets and patting one hand against the spot beside him, waiting for Cas to join him.

Once he wasn’t quite so red in the face, Cas pushed away from the door and headed over to crawl into the bed with Dean, settling beside him with a little pleased noise, one arm curled up so he could toy with the front of the older boy’s shirt like usual and his head pillowed on Dean’s shoulder comfortably.

“I’m sorry about my Father.” He apologized after a moment.

“Chuck is… a lot, sometimes.” Dean agreed, grinning up at the ceiling. “But he’s nice, and he obviously cares about you. I think he’s a good Dad. You’re lucky. There are a lot of people out there with way shittier parents than you have.”

Cas supposed that was true. His fingers traced little, absent circles over Dean’s chest, and he glanced up at him slightly. “You almost sound jealous.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I love my Dad, and I respect the shit outta him.” Dean’s eyes flitted away from the ceiling, down to Cas, and he smiled, “but sometimes I do wish I’d had a more… normal. Childhood. That everything with Mom never happened and me n’ Sammy just got to grow up like regular kids.”

“I understand. You’ve had to go through terrible things.” Cas’s fingers paused and his hand smoothed out over Dean’s chest, “but you know, if you’d had a normal upbringing, we never would have met. Just like if I hadn’t moved around so much with my Father, same thing. So at least one good thing came out of it all, right?”

There was something fond in Dean’s eyes when he leaned in for a kiss. “Right.”

Cas echoed that fondness in the kisses that followed, deep and slow and progressively more heated until they had to break apart to catch their breaths and Dean took the opportunity to gently push Cas down onto his back and settle over him, careful of his ribs the entire time.

And that was the thing with Dean—he always took special care not to hurt Cas in any way, especially now that he was injured. He was always gentle and careful in everything they did, which was why Cas had no reservations about being in bed with him, even though he was still technically wounded. Dean would never do anything to hurt him. Dean cared about him too much for that, and Cas trusted him implicitly because of it.

Now he sank down onto his back, letting Dean come to rest comfortably overtop of him, and looped one arm around the older teen’s neck to pull him down for more kisses—because kissing Dean was warm and deliciously addictive, and he never wanted to stop once they got started.

Dean just settled with his weight resting on his forearms, holding most of his bulk off Cas’s chest, even though Cas would have been more than fine with Dean all but crushing him. The closer he got to the other boy the better, as far as he was concerned, which was pretty much why he let go of his grip on Dean’s neck and slid both his hands down to grab at Dean’s shirt, rucking it up and pulling at it until Dean finally broke off the kissing and sat up long enough to strip it off properly, tossing it to the side a second later.

Cas took a breath to just look at him, hands wandering up Dean’s abdomen to his chest and then farther until he could cup his jaw and drag him down for another kiss. “Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?”

A muffled chuckle against his lips. “Beautiful is for chicks, Cas.”

“I don’t think that’s true. You call me beautiful.”

“That’s different.” Dean didn’t offer any real explanation, just began trailing his lips along Cas’s jaw and Cas tilted his head to make it easier, even as Dean’s hands started pulling at his shirt. Cas pushed him back for a moment to wiggle out of it, discarding it afterward. Then he just pulled Dean back down to kiss him again.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” One of Dean’s hands had come to rest on the bandages that still covered his ribs and concern tinged his voice.

Cas sighed and kissed him again. “Are you planning on hurting me?”

A frown against his lips. “Of course not.”

Another kiss. “Then we absolutely should be doing this.”

Because they might not have another chance, and Cas was damned if he was going to let this one slip through his fingers. As much as they talked about meeting up after Dean left Jacksonville, it couldn’t be guaranteed, and if this was all he could have of Dean he was going to take it and run.

Dean understood that, even if he didn’t say as much out loud. Instead, he just returned Cas’s kisses, propped on one elbow and the other hand sliding in between them to fumble with the button and zip on Cas’s jeans. He wasn’t getting very far one-handed, though, and finally Cas batted him away and just undid them himself, then quickly moved on to doing the same for Dean’s pants, pushing them down over his hips a moment later.

The older boy was back to kissing along is jaw and throat, nipping at the crook of his neck, and muttered, “I think we’re gonna have to get up to get the rest off.”

Cas laughed softly, just the slightest bit breathless, and pushed a hand against Dean’s chest, easing him back. “Up.”

Dean gave him a cheeky grin. “I’m already up.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You’re horrible. Just take your clothes off before I change my mind.”

So, Dean rolled out of the bed to strip his pants and boxers off, while Cas just stayed where he was and shimmied out of his own jeans and boxers, kicking them off the end of the bed when he was done. Then he closed his eyes and slid one hand up to give his already aching cock a few cursory strokes, just to take the edge off, his head falling back, blue eyes closing over and a low groan in his throat.

When he opened his eyes again and glanced at Dean, the older boy was looking at him the way a starving dog would eye a porterhouse steak, gaze intense, absolutely riveted. Cas licked his lips and held a hand out invitingly. “Come here, Dean.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He practically dove at the bed, and Cas laughed while Dean climbed over him, Cas easing his legs apart so Dean could settle between them. Cas moaned softly at the feeling of Dean’s cock pressing against his own and let his head fall back again, even as the other teen began grinding into him, all hard heat and slick precum, the drag and friction just this side of painful and all the more delicious because of it.

One hand grabbing at the sheets, Cas wrapped the other arm around Dean and dug his fingers in, kneading for a moment before dragging his fingers down to the small of his back, his head still back and Dean mouthing at his throat, muttering quiet curses under his breath in between the kisses.

After a couple of minutes of that, Cas finally slid his hand around to Dean’s hip, patting there urgently before stretching—with only the faintest of winces when the motion pulled his wounds—and fumbling in the nightstand. He pulled out the tube of lubricant and pushed Dean back, shoving it into his hand. Dean swore, but his hips stopped moving and he sat back a bit. And then—

“Where’s the condom?” Dean asked, still breathing hard and staring at the lube almost blankly.

“Dean… you already swallowed, remember? And so did I, kind of. I think we’re past that.”

“I—” He couldn’t really dispute that, but still. “Are you sure?”

Cas gave him an overly fond look, “are you having sex with anyone else?”

“Well. I mean. No. Of course not. Not for like a year, almost. And I was safe then, too. But no, you’re the only one I—” And then, again, “no, I’m not.”

“Then, I’m sure.”

“Your Dad very specifically told us to use a condom, you know. Yelled it, in fact.”

“He doesn’t need to know, does he?”

“Cas…”

“Dean.” And then a pause, and Cas tilted his head and asked, “would you rather we used one?”

“I just… I don’t want to screw things up between us, and this seems like a big deal.”

Cas regarded him fondly for a few breaths, then just stretched to reach into the beside table drawer again and pulled out a condom, holding it out for Dean to take. “Here.”

“Really?” Dean took the condom, already looking relieved.

“Yes, of course really.” Cas confirmed. It may not have made logical sense to him, but he didn’t want Dean to be uncomfortable. Cas reached to drag him into a kiss and Dean went willingly, already relaxing against him again. “I just want you to enjoy this as much as I do.”

“I will.” Dean promised with a grin, already opening the lubricant and smearing a good amount onto his fingers, condom discarded safely to the side for the time being.

He spent the next few, long minutes prepping Cas, stretching him out, first one finger, then two and finally three—and though Cas started out squirming, the same as the first time they had done this, by the second finger he was arching into it and starting to groan, and by the third he was head-back moaning. Loudly. Dean was getting better at finding his sweet spot and it showed, and he had already been good at it to begin with. Cas pulled at the blankets and panted until Dean finally decided he was ready and tugged his fingers away.

Cas actually collapsed back into the pillows with a whine, already completely debauched, cock leaking wetly against his stomach. “Dean.”

“Shit, Cas,” Dean’s voice came out low and rough, and he fumbled for the condom, ripping it open and quickly rolling it onto his own straining dick.

But as urgent as his movements started out, the instant it came to actually sliding into Cas’s body, Dean eased off, one hand petting down Cas’s injured side gently as he rolled his hips and fucked himself into the younger boy, slow and deep—and that set the pace for everything that followed.

Cas laughed breathlessly, delighted when Dean picked up a slow, hot rhythm, wrapping his arms around the older teen and sliding his hands up and down Dean’s back as Dean rocked their hips together, a kind of pleasure that crept up his spine and made his limbs feel loose and tingly, made his cock throb in time with Dean’s thrusts. When Dean lifted his head, Cas pulled him into a kiss, long and drawn-out and matching their movements.

Dean just continued rolling his hips into Cas’s, fucking into him slow and deep, so much differently than he had the first time, one arm braced against the bed next to Cas and the opposite hand up and rubbing gently up-and-down Cas’s injured side.

Cas lightly scored his nails down Dean’s sides, leaving little, white trails in their wake before resting his hands at the small of Dean’s back to feel the smooth roll of his muscles, kneading there while Dean continued moving inside him—and then buried his face in Cas’s shoulder, whispering soft little curses and oaths under his breath. Cas just turned his head to pant into Dean’s hair, his own breath coming heavy and harsh.

Everything was slow and heated and kinetic, soft touches and whispered words. It was perfect.

And they both knew what it was. It wasn’t just sex. But neither of them would say it—they couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.

So, for now they just allowed themselves to get lost in each other for what felt like an eternity—until things came to their inevitable conclusion, anyway.

Cas came first, almost startlingly fast when Dean snaked a hand in between them to jerk him off in time with their movements, head thrown back and mouth working silently, come smearing between them—sticky and needing to be cleaned up—but later because Dean wasn’t there yet, so Cas hooked his legs around Dean’s hips and dragged him into a series of deep, hot kisses, rolling his own hips faster to keep the older teen moving.

It was only another minute or two before Dean was thrusting harder, and then pushing in deep and holding there, entire body taut. Cas stroked his hands along Dean’s back, then smiled to himself when Dean finally collapsed on top of him, completely boneless, and muttered into his shoulder, “you’re the actual best.”

Cas laughed breathlessly, “you probably say that to everyone you have sex with.”

But Dean lifted his head to frown down at him. “I really don’t. It’s just, that was—I mean, it was seriously—just.” And then, “it was just.”

When Dean broke off, Cas smiled up at him. “It was, yes.”

A return smile from Dean, and then the other boy dropped his head back onto Cas’s shoulder with a huff. Cas chuckled softly and brought one hand up to stroke through Dean’s sweat-damp hair, just gentle affection, enjoying Dean’s weight over him and the feeling of him breathing. After another couple minutes, though, he tugged at Dean’s hair and shifted his hips.

“Dean… you need to get out of me.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Dean.”

Dean muffled a laugh against his neck and dropped a kiss there before easing back and pulling away finally, rolling to the side and sitting up. One hand lifted to ruffle at his own hair before he just got up and crossed the room, disappearing into the bathroom. When he came out, the condom was gone, and he had a washcloth in his hand.

Cas made a soft surprised noise but didn’t complain when Dean came back over and began cleaning him up, wiping the cooling cum away from his abdomen. It occurred to him that Dean was a considerate partner when it came to things like this. More so than he would have thought if he’d considered it when first meeting him. Now that he really knew him it didn’t seem so odd, Dean was a caring person, but back then Cas wouldn’t have pictured this.

Once he was done, Dean set the cloth to the side on the bedside table and then climbed back into bed, easing up to Cas’s side and wrapping him up in his arms once more, one hand sliding down to rest against his bandages almost absently.

“How’s your side? We didn’t pull it or anything, did we?”

“No.” Cas shook his head against Dean’s shoulder. “It feels fine. You were very gentle.”

“Well, I… of course I… I mean, what just happened was…” Dean trailed off, hedging for time, then just asked softly, “do we need to talk about this, Cas?”

Cas hesitated before shaking his head again, “not if you don’t want to.”

Dean was quiet for a while, just rubbing his hand against Cas’s side gently, and Cas allowed him time to think because this was a sensitive topic at best, and an absolutely forbidden one at worst. If he was honest with himself, he was a little afraid of what was about to happen—what might happen if they had this conversation.

“You know I care about you, Cas.” Dean said finally, speaking over Cas’s head, as if eye contact was a deadly dangerous thing, “more than I can even—” He cut himself off, then, and made a frustrated noise before burying his face in Cas’s hair. His voice was muffled when he spoke again, “probably more than anyone ever.” He admitted softly, “but I can’t—I’m not—with the way things are—”

Cas shifted around, adjusting to pull Dean into his arms instead and leaning in to press a kiss against his forehead. “I understand, Dean.” He said softly. “Really.”

“But it’s not fair to you, I—”

“You can’t help how your life is.” Cas assured him, voice quiet and a gentle smile on his face, “I promise I understand. Please don’t feel badly because of this. You already treat me like…” Trailing off, he considered before finishing, “like I’m something special. Something to be protected. It’s a novelty for me. No one has ever treated me the way you do, not even my Father. So, when I say I understand, please believe me.”

“Cas…”

The younger boy hummed and leaned their foreheads together so he could look into Dean’s eyes. “You know how I feel about you, right? I don’t have to say it, either?”

Dean looked like he wanted to break eye contact, but to his credit he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed a little before replying, “I know, yeah.”

“Then we’re okay.” Cas smiled fondly and settled back, Dean still wrapped up in his arms. They were both quiet for a little while before he spoke up again to say, “I hope we were quiet enough. I was… kind of loud. A couple of times.”

“Well, your Dad didn’t come banging on the door, so I’d say we did alright.” Dean seemed relieved by the topic change. That had been Cas’s plan all along. He gave Cas a wry little smile. “Guess we’ll find out at breakfast.”

“Mm.” Cas wasn’t looking forward to that inevitability. Sighing, he traced the fingers of one hand down Dean’s arm, just feeling out the muscles and enjoying the way they shifted under his touch. “Hey, Dean? Is it very different… having sex with me compared to a girl?”

“Cas!” Dean squawked, flushing red all the way down his neck, “that’s not—I mean—why would you even ask me that?”

Cas just blinked at him. “I’m curious. I’ve never slept with a girl, so I have nothing to compare it to, but you have. So.”

Dean buried his face Cas’s chest and muttered to himself about his clueless boyfriend for a moment but when he lifted his head again Cas was still staring at him expectantly, so he heaved a sigh and pushed up to roll onto his side and face the other boy properly.

“I…” Rubbing at his hair almost awkwardly, he cleared his throat and willed the blushing to go away with little success. “Okay. I… there’ve been… a few. Girls. And they’re all different, but… I guess they’re… softer? I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but that’s how it seems in my mind. They’re softer and smoother, more pillowy, where your body is all hard planes and lean muscle. It’s a huge difference.”

“Oh.” Cas pondered that for a moment before asking softly, “do you prefer girls?”

“Cas,” Leaning forward, Dean bumped his forehead against Cas’s and gave him a little, conspiratorial half-smirk, “I’m gonna tell you something, alright? You. You feel amazing, every inch of you. And you take me so well, did even the first time. You’re so incredibly hot and sweet and pliant. And our bodies fit together perfectly—like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other. You turn me on like crazy and get me off like no one has before. You are hands down the best I’ve ever had. You take my breath away.” Ducking in, he gave Cas a quick kiss, then added; “so no, I don’t prefer girls. Or even other guys, not that there’ve been any. I just prefer you. So, you’d better get used to meeting up with me in cheap motels because I’m not letting you go any time soon.”

By the time he was finished, Cas was looking positively dumbfounded, just staring with wide eyes—until a flush of red began to creep across his face and down his neck all the way to his chest. Dean counted making Cas blush as a win. “I didn’t… realize. I knew today was… but…” Cas’s blue eyes glanced sideways before flicking back to Dean again. He swallowed and licked his lips. “So… after the first time, when I told you I saw stars? I wasn’t—being figurative. Things were so intense, and you were so amazing and perfect and my vision just—blacked out for a minute, near the end, and I saw literal stars.” He swallowed again and brought one hand up to touch at Dean’s chest, fingers dragging there lightly. “I’m glad you don’t prefer anyone else because I—don’t—want to share you, Dean. You know that. Not when you can make me feel like that. Like you always do. Like I feel now.”

“Not when we fit so well together.” Dean agreed softly.

This harkened back to their earlier conversation but felt easier somehow.

“It’s selfish of me, though.” Cas murmured, pressing his hand flat against Dean’s chest to feel his heartbeat under his palm. “It seems like the whole world could use some Dean Winchester, and I just want to keep you all for myself.”

But Dean shook his head at that. “It’s not selfish. I feel the same way about you.”

“But what use am I, really, other than wielding a fire extinguisher on the odd occasion?” Cas countered with a smile and one of Dean’s hands lifted, up and around to smooth over the bandaged gashes on Cas’s ribs again almost absently; “you’re out saving the world almost every day. I’m nobody special.”

“You are special, I’ve told you that before.” Green eyes peered into blue—and then Dean sighed and shuffled around to pull Cas back into his arms again. Cas went willingly, accepting the trade-off and settling against his chest with a hum. “Just because you’re not a Hunter doesn’t mean you’re not special. To me you’re the most precious thing in the world. And I can tell you’re gonna do great things, Cas. Important things. I can feel it, deep down inside myself. You could be President some day.”

Cas laughed at that suggestion. “I seriously doubt that but thank you.”

Dean grinned at him. “You know what I mean, though.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.”

The rest of the night was spent just spending time together, each one basking in the other one’s light, talking about whatever came to mind, making out—and yes, having sex twice more during the long hours they were passing. When they finally did go to sleep, the sun was just cresting the horizon and they were tangled up in each other’s arms, warm and comfortable and pretending, at least for the time being, that things were going to stay that way.

-- --

When Cas woke up later that day, the clock on the nightstand read two twenty-three p.m. and Dean’s breath was soft on the back of his neck, the other boy’s arm slung over his waist, heavy and warm. Cas closed his eyes again, then rolled over to cuddle into Dean’s chest, humming a contented sound to himself. He could get used to this.

And the same as last time, he hadn’t had any nightmares, with Dean beside him in the bed. Dean really was like his own personal dreamcatcher, only far more effective. Cas was just idly considering that idea when Dean began to move, shuffling slightly and then tightening his arm around him.

Cas pressed a kiss by his collar bone gently. “Good morning.”

“Mm. ’Morning.” Dean still sounded half-asleep, but he still adjusted to hold Cas against his chest, “how’d you sleep?”

“Good. The same as last time you slept over. What about you?”

“I could use a couple more hours. Last night was intense.”

“It was.” Cas agreed and looked up at him to study his expression. “But good, too, I hope.”

Dean chuckled, low in his chest. “So good, Cas. The best.”

Cas brightened considerably at that. “Great, so then you can’t be angry with me when I tell you that we have to get up.”

A long groan and Dean flopped his head on the pillow. “Why?”

“My Father,” The younger teen explained, “is probably waiting for us to make an appearance downstairs at some point today, and it’s already two-thirty.”

“Your Dad…” Dean stared at him, then swallowed hard, “I have to face your Dad after last night? After what we did last night? I mean it was amazing and everything but…” Then; “what if I just sneak out your window, instead?”

Cas smacked his arm. “No.”

“Cas.”

“My Father likes you,” Cas pointed out, even as he began to untangle himself from Dean and sit up. “And he knows we’re sleeping together, obviously. If he’d had a problem with it, he would have kicked you out last night when I told him you were staying over. He won’t do anything.” Then a pause and he amended, “I take that back, he will probably tease us. A lot. But that’s just how he is. I’m used to it.”

“I’m not.” Dean grumbled, but sat up anyway, stretching and running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t always good at dealing with the parents of his conquests after the conquesting. He usually cut and ran before there could be any confrontations. Not that Cas was a conquest by any means, which made going downstairs and actually talking to Chuck after he had spent an entire night debauching his son an important thing to do. Awkward, but important.

Cas leaned over to give him a brief kiss. “We’re showering first.”

“’We’re’?”

“Mm, you’re coming with me.”

“Cas, you know what happens when we shower together.”

“I know.” Cas shuffled over to the edge of the bed and climbed to his feet, glancing back over his shoulder at Dean. “Are you coming?”

Dean didn’t really need to think about his decision too hard, not with Cas standing there completely naked, asking him to join him in the shower. That seemed like an easy one. Like, so easy it could be a trap of some kind. In the end Dean decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and just got up to follow Cas into the bathroom.

When they emerged from the bathroom almost forty-five minutes later, Cas had a little, almost smug, self-satisfied look on his face and Dean’s knees felt wobbly, but they were otherwise clean at the very least, and Cas had fresh bandages on. They got dressed quickly after that, paused by the door for Dean to drag Cas into a series of long, deep, grateful kisses—and then headed out into the hallway and down the stairs to the main living area.

Chuck was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the island, his glasses on and reading the paper, a cup of coffee sitting by his elbow. He didn’t even spare a glance up when they approached and Cas started rattling around in the cupboard for coffee cups, checking to make sure the pot was full, and pouring a couple of mugs for himself and Dean. He added cream and sugar to his, though of course just handed Dean a cup of black coffee. Dean uttered a soft ‘thank you’ and gave him a smile.

“I was beginning to think you’d died.” Chuck drawled finally without looking up from his paper, “I wouldn’t be surprised, considering the goings on last night.”

“Hello, Father.” Cas replied, pulling out the bread and dropping two slices into the toaster. “How are you, today?”

“I would be better if I’d had earplugs last night, who could sleep with the racket you two were making?”

Cas sighed. “Father.” While Dean muttered, “we weren’t that loud.”

Chuck finally looked up from his reading, reaching to pick up his coffee and take a drink, and eyed the two of them for a long moment before deadpanning; “it was six o’clock this morning when you two finally quit it. Did you run out of condoms? I thought you’d never go to sleep.”

Another long-suffering sigh from Cas. The toast popped and he buttered it, then added jam and passed a slice to Dean, who was doing his absolute best not to look Chuck in the eye. “We weren’t that bad, and you know it. Also, I happen to know that you do own earplugs.”

“And sound-cancelling headphones,” Chuck broke into a huge grin, “they came in handy!”

“Father,” Cas protested around a bite of toast.

“Hey, no, real talk here, Cas,” Chuck set his mug down again and looked between the two of them, “I’m glad you seem so happy. I’m glad you found each other, as it were. I can overlook the underage porn happening under my own roof, just—Dean?” And when Dean’s eyes finally flicked up to meet his, Chuck gave him a serious look; “don’t you dare break my son’s heart. I will bring the almighty wrath of God down on you, I swear it.”

Dean had been chewing a bite of toast, but swallowed it quickly, eyes widening. “I—” He swallowed thickly, glancing at Cas and then down before back up at Chuck again, expression serious and voice firm; “I told you before, and I meant it. I would never knowingly hurt Cas. I care about him too much for that.”

A little, fond smile quirked at Cas’s lips, and he hid it behind the lip of his coffee mug. “I trust him.” He told his father softly, “you should, too.”

Chuck grumbled something under his breath before accusing, “you two are making it really hard to be the stern Dad, here.”

“Sorry.” Cas shrugged.

“You are not.” Chuck adjusted his glasses and went back to his reading. “Leave my presence now, your puppy love sickens me.”

Cas’s expression shifted to something unreadable for a moment because… this wasn’t puppy love, what was happening between him and Dean. They had established that the night before, even though neither of them had said the actual words. But his father had just reminded him that it was there, always there, and would still be there after Dean left. And it would be hard. So hard. To say goodbye to him. (Even with the promise of visits and video chats.)

Blinking back to reality, Cas took a sip of his coffee, watching Dean from the corner of his eye. The older boy seemed a bit more relaxed now, drinking his own coffee and finishing off his piece of toast—not much of a breakfast but better than nothing—while the three of them just kind of… existed. In surprisingly comfortable silence, all things considered.

After a moment, Cas transferred his coffee from one hand to the other and dropped his now-free hand to take hold of Dean’s, squeezing gently. “What do you want to do today?”

“Something that isn’t sex?” Chuck piped up, and Cas next thing to glared in his direction.

Dean coughed out a laugh. “We could go somewhere. We have a few hours before I told Sam I’d be back.” Then he paused just long enough to thread their fingers together before adding, “or we could just hang out here. Maybe watch a movie or something?”

Cas set his half-empty mug on the counter and smiled at his boyfriend. “I think we should stay in.”

Because Dean would be leaving any day now, and Cas wanted as much quality time with him as he could get, even if it was just cuddling up on the couch and watching Netflix while his father teased them about it. Going out on another date would be nice, but it wasn’t… private enough. He wanted Dean all to himself. He always wanted Dean all to himself. (And he knew in the end that his father would only tease them a little and then disappear into his study, anyway.)

“Pizza and Netflix it is, then.” Dean agreed.

“Pizza?” Cas blinked. No one had said anything about pizza.

“Definitely pizza.” Dean confirmed, “I mean that was some good toast, I’m not knocking the toast, but I am starving.”

“You used up a lot of energy last night,” Cas reasoned with a quirk of his lips, then; “we can order pizza if you want.”

Dean at least had the presence of mind to be embarrassed over Cas’s comment, glancing at Chuck, who was steadfastly ignoring them now. Leaning in close to Cas he whispered, “and this morning, thanks to you.” Cas tried not to look smug and failed rather spectacularly. Dean just grinned and offered, “I’ll pay for the pizza.”

With a fake credit card, Cas knew, the same as always. “Of course.”

So, they ordered pizza, and while they were waiting for it to arrive, they browsed through Netflix to find a movie to watch, though if he was honest Cas really didn’t mind what was on the television as long as they were together. He would probably be paying more attention to Dean, anyway.

Eventually they settled on an old thriller that Dean had seen before—though to be fair, Cas thought Dean had seen all the movies before. In any case, Dean swore uphill and down that it was a classic and that Cas would love it. Cas was skeptical. He wasn’t really into movies, not the way his boyfriend was. They had already established that he was more of a book person. Hence the disused television in his bedroom.

Once the pizza arrived and they had both eaten their fill—and shared with Chuck, who ate and then disappeared into his study as Cas had privately predicted—they settled in the living room to watch their movie. Dean was leaning into the corner of the couch with Cas tucked into his side and everything was warm and comfortable again immediately.

And Cas was right, the movie didn’t interest him. Dean seemed to be enjoying it, but half an hour in Cas was far more interested in the other teen than he was the film playing out in front of them.

He tilted his head and started pressing kisses along the curve of Dean’s neck, just little and light, eyes closed as he nuzzled into Dean’s throat with a sigh. After a moment Dean made a soft sound that rumbled in his chest and turned his head—and the next kiss that Cas dropped was met by lips instead of soft skin.

“Mm.” Cas smiled into the kiss, and when Dean pulled back again, he offered, “sorry. I’m really not interested in movies.”

“I know. It’s just an excuse to cuddle up with you, really.”

Cas laughed, already shuffling them around so Dean was sprawled out on his back, and he could settle over him. He crossed his arms over Dean’s chest and leaned his chin down on them, smiling up at the older boy for a long moment. “Where do you think you’ll go?” He asked softly, “when you leave here.”

Dean hummed and brought one hand up to card his fingers through Cas’s hair, the other resting against his side gently. “There’s no way to know. Wherever we’re needed, I guess. Wherever Dad decides to take us.”

“And you’ll help out on the Hunts, now that you’ve done one of your own?”

“Hard to say.” Dean hedged, “Dad is pretty pissed at me right now. He might bench me because of all…” He waved a hand between himself and Cas before returning it to Cas’s side, his other hand still toying with Cas’s hair; “this. I broke all the rules on my very first solo Hunt.”

Cas leaned into the touches in his hair, eyes closing over, “I’m sorry. You’re in trouble because of me.”

But Dean just shook his head, smiling down at him, expression soft. “You’re worth it, Cas.”

“Worth defying your Dad for?”

“Definitely. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Blue eyes opened and Cas looked up at Dean—then pushed up to kiss him. “I adore you.”

Dean smiled against his lips and managed, “I know. I… I mean. You know. Same.”

That was the best he was going to get, but it was good enough for Cas. He understood how Dean felt, just like Dean understood how he felt. They just weren’t actually saying it. Because saying it made it too real, saying it… you couldn’t take that back, once it was out in the world. Even telling Dean that he adored him was pushing the boundaries a little.

Maybe some day they could say what they actually meant, but not today.

In any case, for now Cas just settled over Dean again, resting comfortably with his head tucked under Dean’s chin, and they spent the rest of the day—until Dean had to head back to the motel—with various Excuse Movies playing in the background while they generally ignored them, spending the time wrapped up in each other instead.

At seven, when Dean reluctantly announced that he had to leave, Cas grumbled but allowed it, untangling himself from the other teen and climbing off the couch, then reaching a hand out to help haul Dean up, too.

They possibly spent too long saying goodbye, standing at the front door exchanging little kisses until Dean finally wrenched himself away and disappeared into the night for the long walk back to the motel where his brother was waiting.

Cas turned off Netflix, after that, and went up to his bedroom to tidy things up from the night before.

-- --

The next day was Monday, which of course meant school for Cas, if not for Dean, but after the events of Friday, spending time with the friends he already had and making new ones, he wasn’t actually dreading walking up the steps to Caspar High the way he had before. He knew he wasn’t alone, even if Dean wasn’t there anymore.

Charlie, Jody and Garth met him by his locker like they had on Friday, but this time Jo and Kevin joined them, and Cas chatted with them for the short time before the first bell rang to send them off to class: for Cas it was geography.

His morning classes went by smoothly enough, though there were the occasional whispers behind his back. It happened in every class except calculus, as if Charlie warded the negativity off. He sometimes wondered why Charlie didn’t get the same treatment, considering she was just as gay and out as he was. Maybe it was more socially acceptable to be a lesbian? Who really knew.

In any case, lunch hour was spent at the Weird Kid table in the cafeteria. This time Cas had remembered to only pack one sandwich—not an extra one for Dean. It was a kind of bittersweet moment to open his bag and find just one lunch inside instead of two. Cas shook it off and settled in to eat anyway.

Right after lunch was his beloved calculus class. Beloved not because he liked calculus all that much, but because it was the only class he shared with his friends. He made himself comfortable in his seat behind Charlie and beside Garth, diagonal from Jody, and pulled his books out.

The four of them talked amongst themselves until the teacher arrived, at which point they buckled down for math.

But only ten minutes into class, Cas’s cell phone beeped from his bag—and he stealthily picked it up to check the message. It was from Sam:

[We’re leaving. NOW. He’s cleaning out his locker. If you run, you can catch him.]

Cas dropped his cell back in his bag and scrambled for the door, ignoring the teacher calling after him and Charlie shouting “what the hell, Cas!”

Dean’s locker had been in the science hall, which was all the way in the other end of the building. By the time Cas got there it was a ghost town, Dean was gone. So, Cas did the only thing he could think of—he sprinted for the front of the school, hoping to head Dean off at the pass. Because he could handle Dean leaving, he had come to terms with that, but not without saying goodbye. They had agreed to that.

When he got to the lobby it was empty, but Dean was outside, making his way down the steps in front of the school.

“Dean!”

Dean was just about to get into the idling Impala when Cas burst through the front doors of the school, frantically calling his name. He immediately turned around and hurried over—the two of them collided halfway between the building and the car, Dean grabbing Cas by the collar and pulling him into a desperate kiss. Cas returned it in kind, not stopping even when a car horn honked and an angry voice called after Dean.

When they broke apart there were tears in Cas’s eyes and he brought his hands up to rest against Dean’s chest, fingers hooking in the fabric of his shirt, tugging gently. “You promised you’d say goodbye.”

Dean shook his head, then winced when the horn honked again and Sam’s voice could be heard demanding just give him a minute, Dad! “I’m sorry—just—my Dad, and you were in class—there was no time—”

Cas smiled sadly. He understood. His hands slid up to cradle Dean’s face, thumbs brushing over the scratchy stubble of his jaw; “listen to me, this is important: You are a good person, Dean, no matter what other people might say, no matter what your Dad might say, no matter what you might think of yourself sometimes. You’re good, and kind, and generous, and so, so caring. You’re the most caring person I know. I’m better for having known you. And you are destined for great things, world-changing things, even if I’m not there to see them. Remember that there’s always someone out there rooting for you and remember that being a Hunter doesn’t have to define you.” Then a small, sad laugh, and; “and remember that texting and video chats are a thing.” Cas was still smiling, but now tears were streaming down his face. He took a shaky breath before continuing; “and know that I love you, Dean Winchester. I love you.”

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, then let it out, shuddering, and pulled the other boy close again, closing the distance to kiss him once more. “Cas, you know I—I—”

“I know.” Cas murmured against his lips, “you’re not ready. You may never be ready. But I had to say it.” Stepping back a bit, he wiped at his eyes and looked toward the car; “you should go. Sam and your Dad are waiting.”

Dean shook his head, mouth working but no sound coming out for a long moment. Then he reached out to take hold of Cas’s hand and squeezed firmly before letting go and turning around, heading over to the Impala and climbing in. The car door closed with finality and Cas blinked back more tears as it pulled out—

—only to almost immediately screech to a stop again just a few feet later. Muffled, raised voices sounded from inside the vehicle for a moment before the passenger door flung open once more and Dean clambered out again, striding purposefully back over to where Cas was standing, giving him a completely baffled look. “Dean, what—?”

Grabbing hold of him, Dean dragged him into another kiss, then pressed their foreheads together and offered up a breathless grin; “I am ready. And I love you, too, Cas. I do. I think ever since I met you.” Dean’s smile was bright and happy; “I couldn’t leave without telling you. I never would’ve forgiven myself.”

Blue eyes blinked, shocked, but then a wide, delighted smile stretched across Cas’s face, too. The kind of smile he didn’t offer up very often. Dean soaked it in like the rays of the sun, and they stood there like that for the longest few moments before his dad honked the car horn again, bringing them back to reality. Dean lifted a hand to stroke through Cas’s hair gently and Cas leaned in for another kiss—and this time when they said goodbye it wasn’t sad or heartbreaking, it was only tinged with the slightest bit of melancholy and brimming with the hope and joy that newfound love brings to everything it touches.

When Cas got back to class a short time later, there was already a new text on his phone:

[Butte, Montana. Werewolf. Yes, they’re a thing. I love you.]

Cas smiled down at the screen and quickly typed out a reply, the teacher glaring at him the entire time:

[Be safe. I love you, too.]

-- --

Chuck finished typing his latest page and printed it out, then plucked it from the printer and held it up with a satisfied grin on his face. “I knew I should have introduced them earlier. High School AUs are in this season!”

THE END