FIC: A Mighty Dark Night - Chapter IX
Title: A Mighty Dark Night
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word length: ~74,000
Warnings: violence, language and sex
Summary: Detective Dean Winchester meets Homeland Security Agent Castiel James over a corpse.
Chapter IX
It takes a powerful man to carry that load
A pretty brunette woman was reading a magazine by his bedside when he opened his eyes again several hours later. The curtain to separate him from the other half of the room was drawn back, revealing an occupied hospital bed and several beeping machines, and beyond that, the night sky poking through the blinds.
"Cas?" Dean croaked, and the woman jumped.
"Oh, you startled me! I hadn't realized you'd woken up," she said.
"Cas?" he croaked again.
"He's still unconscious," she said, glancing across at the other bed.
Dean peered blearily at her. She looked vaguely familiar - pretty eyes, confident gaze, preppy clothes. "Sarah?" he asked.
She smiled, pleased. "I wasn't sure you'd remember. I sent Sam to get some food with your aunt and cousin," she added.
"Good," Dean grunted. "They like babying him." Her lips quirked at that. The last, and only time, he'd met Sarah had been at a classic car show Sam had bought them all tickets to attend. She seemed like good people.
"I've been meaning to ask you, Sarah." He had to pause to clear his throat. He could really handle some water. Wordlessly, she reached for the pitcher on his nightstand and poured a little into a cup for him. He nearly choked on it, but waved her off when she made to rise out of her chair. "So," he wheezed eventually. "Bleaurgh. Sorry about that."
"Are you okay?" she asked, a wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows.
"Yeah, good as new. Anyhow, that thing? That I've been meaning to ask you?" His lips were dry, too, maybe he could get her to give him her chapstick. Probably not, after she heard what he was going to say. "It's not a question, really. More like a statement: if you break his heart, I will destroy you."
He hadn't meant for it to come out so bald. That was a lie, he did. But he hadn't meant for it to come out when they were both sober. Though he supposed he could claim morphine delirium.
She held his gaze for a long moment before nodding.
"I have no intention of breaking his heart. I've had mine trampled before." She smiled suddenly, showing her canines. "Has anyone ever told you you're a bit too overprotective?"
"Nah. If they did, I'd break their face." They gazed at each other for one long moment before they both laughed, Dean's ribs reminding him quite painfully why he should not do that.
"Dean!" Sam appeared in the doorway, wincing at Dean's gasping wheeze of a laugh. "Oh my God, are you in pain?" He rushed to Dean's bedside, Jo and Ellen hot on his heels. Dean would have laughed harder at the sight of them falling all over themselves, but bruised ribs trumped his morphine good mood.
"They don't let you strangle cats in the hospital, Dean," Jo teased him, her light tone at odds with the tight worry lines around her eyes.
"Everybody move back and give the boy some air," Ellen commanded, hooking her fingers in Sam's and Jo's collars and giving a tug. She immediately took their place at the head of his bed, glanced across him at Sarah, then turned her focus on Dean. "You're grinning like a loon. How much morphine did they give you?"
"Enough to float a boat. I'm good as new, ready to get back to work." He coughed, and winced at the flare of pain in his chest. Ellen raised her brow at him. "At least well enough for Sam to fill me in on some things."
"Sam is not a law enforcement official," a male voice said from the doorway. Dean looked through his family members to see Anna standing ramrod straight in the entrance to the room, Gabriel Smecher beside her with tired eyes and one arm in a sling.
"Are you trying to kick us out?" Jo asked, her voice escalating. "We're not leaving. We just got back here!"
Anna and Gabriel were armed, Ellen and Jo were not, but if he didn't do something, Dean had a feeling the agents were going to get their asses handed to them. "Aunt Ellen," he croaked, playing up the family angle, and she knew it, too, judging from her narrowed eyes, "could you please call Bobby for me? The Impala's hurt bad, I need to know she'll be okay." He gave her his absolute best Bambi eyes.
Ellen could never resist the Bambi eyes. She gave Anna a level look, then laid her hand on her daughter's arm and said in a loud whisper, "It's okay, we'll get all the important stuff later. Come with us, Sarah," she said, raising her voice, "it's high time we got to know one another. Jo's gonna call Bobby, I can't wait to hear why Sam didn't tell us about you for so long."
Sam cringed as the three women left, each shooting him identical looks of disgruntlement. Dean found it uproariously funny, but only managed a slight croak.
"Explain to me again why the moose gets to stay?" Gabriel asked, gesturing at Sam after the door shut behind Sarah and her interrogators.
"Dean will just tell him everything after we leave anyhow," Anna answered crisply. She'd changed since the alley, and was in her no-nonsense FBI pantsuit. Her pumps beat a sharp staccato on the tiles as she crossed to Dean's bed and picked up his medical chart. The noise reminded him uncomfortably of Lilith in the warehouse.
"How did Lilith get away?" he asked with no preamble.
Gabriel and Anna exchanged a look. "You're absolutely sure she was there?" Anna asked.
"Am I - what?" Dean struggled to sit up. "She was there - at the alley, you said-" He batted away Sam's hands, trying to get him to relax, and glared at Anna. "I asked you about her there!"
"And I said no one had seen her," Anna snapped back. She took a deep breath, visibly calming herself. "Look. Dean. There's no record of what went on in that warehouse. No one else saw Lilith."
"Then why'd you even bother going there?" he grumbled.
Anna sighed and glanced over at Cas's bed, but it was Gabriel who answered, looking down at Cas's unconscious body. "Because my brother asked us to."
Dean's throat closed and his eyes watered. Cas had been unconscious the last time he'd seen him, practically at death's door. How had he said anything? Would he ever say anything again?
"When Rufus found the Impala," Sam said in a low voice, "there was a message written in blood on the floormat. AD has DW, and a license plate number."
Dean blinked rapidly and looked up at the ceiling. The tiles were fascinating and not at all blurry.
"Your partner and Major Henriksen did not divulge that information to the rest of your fellow cops," Anna said, picking up where Sam had left off. "Instead they called me with it, then set their trap for the informant at your station."
"And who was it?" Dean asked in a rough voice. His brother squeezed his shoulder briefly, and Dean drew strength from Sam's sure grip.
"Scott Carey. Henriksen thinks he had no idea he was helping Lilith. A classic patsy. I'd like to investigate myself-"
"IA will do it," Dean interrupted her. Scott Carey. Damn. He was just a kid, young and a little stupid, easily manipulated. Dean could picture him at the crime scene outside the West Hyattsville Metro. Someone was going to have to tell him of his other connection to the murdered DHS Agent. IA would hardly sugarcoat it, but Anna would break Carey with one look. Anna opened her mouth to argue with him, but Gabriel cut her off.
"Leave off, Anna. It's not really your jurisdiction."
"Lilith's involvement makes it a federal case," she said, shaking her head.
"So now you believe me that Lilith was there?" Dean asked drily.
"I didn't say I didn't believe you-"
"Sure as hell what it sounded like to me!"
Gabriel stuck two of his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Dean and Anna shut up and turned to glare at him. He grinned back. "Ladies. You're both beautiful. But maybe we have other things to discuss?"
Ladies? "Okay, asshole," Dean agreed. "How about you explain how the fuck Alistair got out of your custody and ambushed me and Cas?"
Gabriel winced, his eyes darting back to Cas again. "Fuck. That's quite the tale."
"He break your arm for you?" Dean asked.
"Despite my heroic acts of brave derring-do. Probably would have garroted me but for Balthazar," Gabriel continued, mumbling.
"Who's Balthazar?"
"Another Agent. Friend of ours." Gabriel gestured between him and Cas. "Anyhow. We hid Alistair, like we said we would. And Lilith technically didn't find us."
"What he means is, Raphael found them. And Lilith was following him, letting him do all the dirty work to find you, because she knew he would." Anna was glaring at Gabriel by the time she finished.
"So Raphael is my fault now? What, I'm supposed to keep all the balls in the air?" Gabriel looked like he wanted to cross his arms, but that was a bit impossible with one arm in a sling.
"No, just your own," Anna shot back. Dean and Sam exchanged quick glances, lips twitching.
"Anna Milton, going for the potshot. Never thought I'd see the day. If you'll recall, you said you'd keep an eye on Raphael-"
"An eye, not a tail!"
"-because he already distrusted me, remember that? Remember how he'd like to hang Cas out to dry?"
"'Cas' is hardly pure as the driven snow-"
"Enough," Dean cut them off with a growl. It was no longer strangely amusing to watch the two of them go at it like squabbling children. "Whoever fucked up, it's done." Which could have been worded more diplomatically, as Anna and Gabriel both narrowed their eyes at him, but whatever. "Alistair escaped, knocked Gabriel down for the count, so I bet neither of you know that Crowley is alive? Right?"
Gabriel's eyes widened. "The fuck?"
Anna frowned as she ran through her mental notes. "Crowley. A mid-level manager in Lilith's organization? The corpse that brought you into contact with DHS?"
"Yeah. Him. Not a corpse anymore. That's why Alistair grabbed us. Lilith thought Crowley and I were working together." He cleared his throat. "Alistair made the decision to leave Cas behind, as a kind of warning."
"How'd he get the jump on you?" Gabriel asked. Dean could feel a flush crawl up his neck, and he was suddenly powerfully aware that he was in a hospital gown, which was not high enough to cover up the remnants of his Cas-given hickey. Gabriel's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"He's Alistair," Anna said with a wave of her hand, continuing on, oblivious. "Let's get back to Lilith in the warehouse. Dean, anything you remember will help. Give us some details. How did she hold herself? Why did she need to find Crowley? Start at the beginning."
Sam poured him several cups of water over the next hour, and helped him walk on wobbly legs to the little ensuite bathroom twice, as he struggled to dredge up everything his detective's mind had taken in from the warehouse and Lilith's behavior, back to the meeting with Crowley at Chuck's mother's house that morning. The only thing he left out was the content of the conversation he and Cas had been having when Dean had pulled over on that fateful stretch of shoulder in PG County. Still, there was something about her expression when he spoke about Cas and the Impala getting pushed down the rainy road, and he didn't dare meet her eyes until he was delving into the part of the story within the warehouse. One look at her, and he knew her obliviousness had been feigned. She knew. A miniscule shrug of her shoulders, and she let him go, neatly severing their relationship. It might have stung but for the morphine and the fact that it had never truly been real. Maybe now it could develop into a real friendship. He sat a bit straighter in his hospital bed and told them everything he could recall of Lilith.
Cas still hadn't woken by the time they were done going over every detail and hashing it out again and again. Anna and Gabriel left first, off to do important things, useful things, while Dean had to lie on his ass in the hospital.
"Crowley's not going to talk to one of them," he groused to Sam after they left.
"Thought you didn't want to talk to Crowley, either," Sam said, surreptitiously checking his watch.
"I don't, but they're not going to find his sorry ass until he comes crawling out of the muck again, and he's not going to do that for one of them."
Sam looked down again.
"I'm sorry, princess, are you going to turn into a pumpkin or something?" Dean asked, annoyed. "Why the hell do you keep checking your damn watch?"
Sam started. "Uh," he stammered, running a hand through his hair. "Ellen and Jo have had Sarah to themselves for an awfully long time…"
"Dude, seriously?! Lilith and Crowley are on the loose, Crowley could still conceivably initiate a terrorist attack on U.S. soil, fuck, Lilith still could if she could get her hands on her money, I'm stuck in the hospital, can't do shit about any of this, the Impala is up on bricks at Bobby's, and Cas - Cas still hasn't woken up!"
His voice cracked a bit at the end, embarrassing him. He'd put it down to the morphine later. Anything weird he said would be laid firmly at morphine's door.
Sam gave him a stricken look. "I'm sorry, Dean! I-"
"Forget it."
"Dean-"
"No, I mean, this isn't your problem, you're not a cop-"
"I know, I can't do anything about that, but I know what it's like to love some-"
"Stop talking."
"Dean-"
"Stop talking."
Dean's nostrils flared, and Sam shut up. An awkward silence descended on them as Dean's stomach did flip-flops. It was one thing, maybe admitting certain feelings to himself when he'd had the shit beaten out of him and circumstances looked dire. But having Sam voice them out loud? That was just - that was too much.
Sam cleared his throat. "So. It's great not talking about this stuff, really, Dean, but if you change your mind… call me instead of Oprah, okay?"
It startled a small smile from Dean's lips. "Get out of here, you big girl."
"You sure? You need anything else?"
For Cas to wake up. Can you make that happen? "Nah. I've got my water. Well, you could send Jo in. To give me an update on my baby."
Sam smiled, and leaned down to brush his lips across Dean's forehead. Dean blinked at him. Sam hadn't kissed him since they were kids; Dean distinctly remembered the last time - Sammy had stayed up late, reading by flashlight under his covers, back when they lived with their dad in the apartment off New York Ave. Where the Red Fern Grows, that had been the book, and Sammy had been a mess of tears and clinging hugs, kissing and snotting all over Dean's forearm when he'd wrapped his arms around his little brother and let him sleep the rest of the night with him. Dean's eyes watered now. From the morphine.
Sam squeezed his shoulder again and hurried off to rescue Sarah from their aunt and cousin.
Dean threw the covers off the minute the door closed behind Sam. It was a very short walk to the other end of the room and Cas's bed, but it took almost all his energy. Finally he was leaning down over Cas's bed, looking into his face.
He had a hell of a shiner, and little bandages over his right cheekbone. He was breathing on his own, though, which was awesome, absolutely awesome, and it took Dean a moment to realize he was mumbling that out loud.
"You're awesome, Cas, you're gonna be fine, and we'll let Gabriel and Anna worry about those other fuckers, we'll go and put the Impala back together, you and me and Bobby, and Sammy can help, but he's kind of pitiful with cars, don't tell him I said that, he likes to think he knows what he's doing. She's beat up pretty bad, but we can fix her. You just need to wake up. Come on, dude, you can't leave me out on this limb by myself. I need you to help me fix the Impala. Come on, Cas. Come on."
His own bed was so far away, and he was so tired. He crawled up next to Cas. The bed was huge. It was easy to avoid the wires hooking Cas up to beeping machines, easy to put his arms around the other man's body and hold him to his chest.
"Just gonna rest my eyes here with you for a moment," Dean informed him. The morphine made him press a kiss to Cas's dark hair. Dean was not a snuggler and hair-kisser, so it had to be the morphine. "Jo's coming, and she'll tell us about the Impala, and we'll go to Bobby's, and I'll tell you that I choose you. 'Cause I chose you, Cas."
He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
***
He woke up ten hours later, blinking crust from his eyes. His right arm was asleep, probably thanks to Cas sleeping on it. Cas had shifted in the night, and there were fewer tubes going into him. He must have…
"Cas, did you wake up?" Dean asked in a voice that sounded like rusty hinges.
Cas didn't say anything, but his hand twitched where it was splayed across Dean's shoulder and his lips parted slightly.
"You bet your ass he woke up!"
Dean got whiplash, he turned so quickly. Ellen settled back into her armchair, eyes dancing.
There were several ways he could play this. He could pretend he wasn't overjoyed to hear that Cas had woken up, he was merely concerned, as one colleague to another, since he had just accidentally fallen asleep… with his arms wrapped around another man. Fuck it. He was going to choose the tried-and-true 'act like nothing weird is going on here' and hope that Ellen felt like playing along.
"So, uh, what time is it?"
Ellen's eyebrows practically climbed into her hair.
"Mid-morning. And don't you try playing 'nothing weird is going on here' with me, Dean Bean, I taught it to you." Dean winced, and Ellen gave him a ghost of a smile before sobering. "Now you tell me how you're feeling, the truth, you hear."
He cleared his throat. The truth was he ached all over, he needed to pee abominably and he had no idea how Ellen was going to react to Cas. And truthfully, he needed her to like him.
"I'm fine," he said.
"Translation: you feel like you've just played the part of the piñata at Jo's eighth birthday party." Her eyes roamed his face, his arms still holding Cas, Cas himself. She started speaking again, almost as if she was talking to herself. "I remember the morning after your momma died, seeing you with Sammy, I knew right then you'd go into the family business, you'd be a cop, you'd do something crazy where you're always risking your life for someone else."
"Aunt Ellen-"
"No hear me out," she said, raising her hand, her voice growing stronger. "I'm not done. I didn't want you to be a cop, God knows I don't want Jo to follow after you and wear a damn gun and a badge, but she's gonna. You, Sam, Jo - what you do is in your blood, and you're not gonna stop." She leaned forward, all mirth gone from her eyes, and laid her hand gently on his arm. "And I worry, you know I do. You're always looking out for Sam, and I know the two of you will be the support Jo needs when she graduates. But you, you always big brother Sam whenever he wants to protect you back. You need someone, you need family to watch your back, Dean. And if this man here is it," she tapped lightly on Cas's hand, "then he's better than fine with me."
Dean swallowed hard and tore his eyes away from Ellen's to blink at the wall. Watery eyes must be a side effect of morphine. She graciously gave him a moment. What must they have talked about, Ellen and Cas, when Cas woke up in the hospital, being held by Dean with Dean's tiny, motley crew of a family gathered round? It was just… so fucking intimate it was making Dean's skin crawl, even though he never wanted to let Cas out of his sight, out of his arms. And Ellen, spilling her guts to him like that? God, he wished he could set her fears to rest. He needed more morphine.
"Thanks, Ellen," he managed finally. "Really."
"I know it's a lot to take in." Ellen pushed back in her seat and stood up. She, too, leaned over and brushed her lips across his forehead. The hospital was bringing out the sappiness in his entire family. He doubted Jo had kissed him, though. She'd probably taken pictures of him and Cas snuggled together like bunnies. Dammit. "I've got to get back to the Roadhouse before Ash burns it down. He'll be in later to see you, by the way, with old Rufus."
"Awesome," he mumbled. He hoped Sam had filled Ash and Rufus in; he really didn't feel like going over everything yet again. And Rufus was probably going to kill him; their case had exploded, doubling their workload and where was Dean? Stuck in the fucking hospital. "Did the doctor tell you when I could get out of here?"
"Patience is a virtue, Dean," she said, that old twinkle back in her eye. "Rest up. Oh, and Jo left you a note." She fished a scrap of paper out of her jeans pocket, kissed his forehead once more and left with a lingering glance at Cas's sleeping face.
Dean opened the note one-handed. He still couldn't move his right arm, thanks to Cas.
Brakes, bumper, alignment - nothing insurmountable - Bobby ordering parts.
Cute boyfriend, btw. Where's mine? :P
P.S. Try not to get yourself killed, or my mom'll kill you.
P.P.S. Sarah seems nice.
Nothing insurmountable -- those were the magic words. They could put his baby back together. He yawned widely, and hobbled carefully into the tiny bathroom. It was a lot easier to do with Sam helping him walk and waiting outside, but he was pretty proud of himself. Dean Winchester, able to piss on his own. Someone give him a medal. He should really return to his own bed, but Cas's was so warm and comfortable and easy to fall into. So he did.
He woke up again when the flash went off in his face.
"Jesus, Ash!" he yelped, eyes flying open as his brain told him to reach for his gun, wake up, defend. There was a loud slapping noise, and Ash howled in pain.
"Why'd you smack me, old man?"
"You don't use flash when you're going for blackmail photos, you idiot. The point is for him not to know you took them, dang."
"Gee, thanks for defending my honor, partner," Dean muttered, eyes adjusting. Ash and Rufus were both grinning at him, Ash rubbing his head and trying to give Dean a wink at the same time.
"We can let you go back to snuggling and cuddling, Winchester, if that's what you want," Rufus said.
"I'm not fucking cuddling. My arm's asleep." Why hadn't he got out of Cas's bed and into his own? He was never going to live this thing down.
"That's 'cause Prince Charming is snuggling it," Rufus snorted. "Ash, tell Sleeping Beauty here what you told me about the bank accounts."
Sleeping Beauty reminded him of Alistair's taunts, and he shifted uncomfortably in the bed, missing whatever teasing remark Ash led off with. Which was just as well. Rufus watched him sharply, eyes narrowed. He'd noticed something.
"-all frozen. So then I thought to myself, 'Self, what about the unofficial accounts?' They have to have them, right? What's in those? And…"
Dean tried to pay attention, but Ash's creative accounting was even more boring than his technobabble. And Cas was sleeping on his chest, his partner was watching and doing his damn best to act nonchalant, which was so out of character for Rufus, Dean could only surmise he'd actually been afraid for Dean's life.
"…through the foster system which, please, I could crack those in my sleep, it's like stealing candy from a baby - a big, whiny baby with no motor control and itty bitty hands and…"
Cas was snuffling in his sleep, like a cute puppy, and Dean caught himself starting to make a doofy grin. He looked up quickly and saw Rufus rolling his eyes, a much more normal Rufus Turner reaction.
"…under Fremont! The name of the foster family she had in New Harmony, Indiana, twenty years ago!" Ash announced triumphantly.
"Wait, what?" Dean asked.
"My point exactly." Ash nodded. "Pretty creepy, right? Hiding thousands of dollars in an account named after your old foster family, that just happened to die in a mysterious house fire? Bet she thought no one would ever be able to trace her back as Lily Fremont. Just goes to show you can't hide from Dr. Badass." He blew on his knuckles and waggled his eyebrows.
"Lilith was in foster care?"
"Fucking pay attention, Baby Winchester," Rufus chided him. He returned Dean's dirty look with a broad smirk.
"Yeah, once I cracked it open, all this shit spilled out." Ash glanced around the hospital room. "Hey, has anyone brought you chocolates yet? Or cheetos, I'm not too fussed, but I could use something…"
"Later, Ash." Dean snapped his fingers, getting Ash's focus back on him. "Who were Lilith's birth parents?"
"Mother died giving birth, far as I can tell. Her father, though, he was a real piece of work." He made a face. "Legally changed his name to Lucifer, went a little batshit crazy, got himself institutionalized. Why Lilith got put in foster care in the first place."
"Huh," Dean mused, chewing on his lower lip. "Something Crowley said…"
"What?" Rufus asked. "Come on, spit it out."
"He said Lilith was looking for approval from an absent father," Cas rasped, eyelashes fluttering as he slowly blinked his eyes open. Dean forgot to breathe for a moment when their eyes met. Ash said something, and so did Rufus, but Dean didn't hear them. Cas was alive, and awake, and right there. Unthinking, he brought his left hand up to cup Cas's chin and leaned down to kiss him.
Cas's lips were dry, and his breath was foul, as was Dean's, but he didn't care, and deepened the kiss. Cas finally broke the kiss, breathing hard.
Ash wolf whistled.
"Nice tiles you got here," Rufus remarked, squinting up at the ceiling.
Dean ignored them both. Cas was staring at him, his typical intense blue gaze, only slightly clouded by pain and sleep. There was a spark burning within their depths, something like joy. Dean took a deep breath.
"Okay. So Lilith's got her hands on some emergency funds. What about Crowley?"
They talked until the doctor came and kicked Rufus and Ash out, and made Dean get back in his own bed, with the promise that Dean, at least, might be discharged the next day.
Later that evening, ensconced once again in Cas's bed, with Cas asleep on his chest, Dean's mind turned back to his meeting with Crowley. There was something about how he'd spoken of Lilith. Alistair and all the rest had seemed cowed by her, but Crowley had been almost contemptuous. Though still scared, and if not of Lilith, then what or who? With that thought, he fell into an uneasy sleep.
***
The next two weeks passed with the same feeling, as if bugs were crawling beneath his skin. Cas felt it too, and tempers were short in Bobby's house. Dean was beginning to think Bobby'd kick them out for disturbing his peace, but he never did.
A constant stream of traffic showed up at the farmhouse from DC and PG County. Sam, of course, and Anna, Gabriel, Ash, Rufus, Ellen and Jo, Major Henriksen, once even Chuck and Becky, all found their way out to the Singer homestead in between turning the DC metro area upside-down and shaking it for Lilith and Crowley.
For the first week, Dean worked on restoring the Impala with Bobby, in between bickering with everyone who came by with information on the case, and Cas most of all, after his early release from the hospital the day after Dean. It seemed Dean couldn't resist picking at whatever they had between them, as if everything he had said under the influence of morphine was an invitation to see how much he could push before he broke it. And every moment he wasn't covered in engine grease or yelling at Ash or Cas or whoever, he and Cas spent fucking.
He had no idea where they got the stamina from. They were both still on pain pills, and Cas had to wear a boot cast on his left leg, but that first night at Bobby's, after Dean had helped Cas up the stairs to his old room, they'd undressed and crawled into bed, falling into exhausted sleep. Dean had woken up to find Cas half-hard and half-asleep, pressing up against his ass.
He almost had a second freakout, bigger than the first, but then Cas had woken completely up, looked at his face, and slid down the bed to lick him open, his tongue delving in again and again, reducing Dean to a quivering, whimpering mess. He was round the bend before he even felt the first press of Cas's cock entering him, and maybe it hurt, a little, but he'd had aspirin before bed, he always kept lube in his night stand, and Cas was hitting his prostate, slowly, sleepily, and it took them half an hour to come.
The next morning he'd woken a little sore, a little surprised, and Cas had fucked him again, lying draped across his back, rocking the bed with each slow thrust, the pillow catching each of Dean's moans and muffling the noise.
As the days passed, and the Impala returned to fighting shape, he and Cas fucked and argued in equal amounts. Cas was no pushover, dominating Dean in their bed, despite his more substantial injuries. To his utter embarrassment, Dean found that he loved not needing to be the strong one for once, loved it when Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders for better leverage and moved inside him. It just made him lash out harder during the day, though, arguing about the dumbest things imaginable, not even related to the case - the type of bread for sandwiches, if it would rain in the afternoon or the evening, even once over the shirt Cas was wearing. Cas had won that one by stripping the shirt off and using it to gag Dean as he fucked him in the barn with Bobby and his neighbor right outside, talking tractors.
News finally began to trickle in. The first piece Henriksen brought himself. After finding out his inadvertent connection to Lilith, Officer Scott Carey wrote a note to his mother and then blew his brains out in the Hyattsville break room. Dean went into the barn and punched bales of hay, muttering obscenities. Cas found him there an hour later, a dirty, sweaty mess, and pushed him against the side of the barn before kneeling and taking him into his mouth. Dean was rougher than he meant to be, but Cas took it, and pretended the tears on Dean's cheeks were tracks of sweat.
Chuck and Becky didn't have a death to report, or at least they had no body. Becky's erstwhile boss, the motivational speaker who'd taken War as his dumbass stage name, had disappeared without a trace. Becky didn't seem put out by it, and spent their entire visit grilling Bobby about the method he used for arranging the books in his den, and had he ever considered going digital? Chuck drew Dean and Cas aside to tell them that he had his ear to the ground for any word on Lilith or Crowley, but even he, with all his contacts, hadn't heard anything about their whereabouts. The only thing he could gather was that Lilith's new crime family had imploded.
"My guess is she promised them fireworks and they turned on her when the show fizzled," Chuck said. "And can you blame them? I once went to this fireworks show set to music from Star Wars and it rained. No fireworks, and my Boba Fett costume was ruined. It sucked ass. I would have demanded my money back if I'd actually paid for a ticket."
The next death was found by Gabriel and Agent Balthazar Dion. Dean disliked the new agent on sight, but Cas looked happy to have him sitting at Bobby's rickety kitchen table with them. Cas even laughed at one of Balthazar's jokes, the two of them chortling over a literary bon mot that Dean got, thank you very much, but he found to be pretentious. He broke one of Bobby's plastic cups from an ancient Jurassic Park and Burger King special deal, his death grip sending soda leaking over his fingers and spilling across the table. Balthazar had smirked at him as Cas helped him clean it up, and told them he and Gabriel had found the man codenamed Pestilence in his filthy apartment, bugs crawling over his corpse. He'd been poisoned, they thought, but they'd turned the body over to the CDC. Security around the Capitol building had been tightened and double-tightened, in case Lilith tried again with a new delivery man, but according to Ash, it didn't look like she could afford to.
Especially when Anna showed up with news of Brady's death. The FBI had recovered all three crates from Niveus; however, one small vial was still missing. It looked like Brady had been mauled by wild animals, his guts strewn around him, Anna said, her face turning a shade paler than usual. It must have been pretty disgusting to get that kind of reaction from Anna, Dean thought.
"Which do you think did it?" Dean asked her, sitting over plates of spaghetti in Bobby's kitchen. Where the magic happens. He poked at the long strands of spaghetti. They looked like entrails, but he slurped them right up, unfazed. Bobby looked a little sick, but sprinkled on extra Parmesan cheese.
"He was closer to Lilith," Anna mused.
"Lilith's allies are drying up," Cas argued. "And according to Chuck, her unification of the criminal activity in this area has fallen apart. I do not think she would destroy one of her lieutenants at this point."
"Death by dog strikes me as Crowley," Dean agreed, mouth full of meatball. Bobby didn't even flinch from the meaty spray, just flicked it off and continued eating.
Cas gave him a smile, recently rare when they were out of bed, for agreeing with him for once. Anna snorted and muttered something under her breath. Dean rolled his eyes. She might be okay with his 'relationship' with Cas, in theory, but it was different when they were all conscious and in the same room together. If Cas said up, Anna said down. That friendship would need patience to get back, not really Cas's strong suit. It frustrated Cas, Dean could tell by the way he fucked him hard that night, Dean bracing himself on his childhood desk while Cas stood behind him and slammed in again and again, his fingers roughly jerking Dean off in time with his thrusts.
After the first week, Dean was deemed fit enough to return to work, and he joined in the long commute each day. He could have stayed in his own apartment, but Cas was in Frederick County. They never talked about what was going on between them, just argued and fucked. Now that Dean was back at work, Cas's own uncertain future with Homeland Security weighed heavier on him. Dean hadn't a clue how to solve that problem, frustrated himself with being relegated to paperwork in case he still had any aches and pains. The best he could do was to let Cas have his way in bed. Cas rode him so hard one night he blacked out when he came, Cas sheathed tight all around him as his hips left the mattress and his fingers dug gouges in Cas's thighs. Dean screamed so loud that night Bobby couldn't look at him the next morning.
But when they were both awake and orbiting each other in the kitchen or the living room or the yard, Dean couldn't stop himself from sniping at Cas, questioning his assertions on what he thought Lilith might do next (even when he agreed), who he thought might offer an alliance to Crowley, everything. Bobby kept opening his mouth to say something, before shaking his head and limping away.
Sam joined them every few days for dinner at Bobby's house. At the end of the second week, he arrived bearing pizza. Cas was quiet and moody, disgruntled about still being benched, still wearing his boot cast. Dean was snappish after a day spent in the company of Gordon Walker, who'd delighted in making snide remarks about his still-missing zombie drug dealer.
"So! What's going on with the search, Dean?" Sam asked, a string of cheese dangling from the corner of his mouth.
"A whole lotta nothing, with a side order of shit and red tape," Dean answered, filching another slice of pepperoni off a piece of pizza still in the box. "No one's seen hide nor hair of Lilith, or Crowley."
"Sounds promising," Sam said with a laugh. Cas gave him a flat look, but said nothing. "Sorry, just an attempt at levity."
"These two don't do 'light,'" Bobby snorted. "It's like living with sturm und drang in the flesh."
"Yeah, and you're Merry Sunshine herself," Dean grumbled back.
"I am getting nowhere with the case, Sam," Cas interjected, "because I am stuck here in Frederick County and utterly useless. Dean, on the other hand, has the respect and support of his station, and is able to accomplish things."
Dean rocked back in his chair as if slapped, and Sam paused in mid-bite. "Here it comes," Bobby muttered under his breath.
"What the fuck, Cas? You're not useless! You think I make you feel useless?"
"You misunderstand me. I am simply stating a fact," Cas said in a clipped voice.
"Bullshit. You think I suck at this, don't you?" Oh, yeah, they probably should have talked about their thing before now, Dean could see that in retrospect. "You think I'm a shit - person - for you, don't you?"
"Lover."
"Jesus, Cas! Sam and Bobby are right the fuck here!" Sam and Bobby were resolutely staring at their plates.
Cas slammed his fist on the table, the unexpected show of physical violence from Cas drawing all eyes to him.
"They know, Dean. Everyone knows! We slept in the same hospital bed. That we're lovers is hardly a secret. Your friends and family have accepted it without a batted eye. What are you so afraid of? Do I disgust you so much?"
Dean's mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Fuck, Sam and Bobby were both staring at him now. Sam probably wanted him to make some gushy romantic declaration. He swallowed. "I thought we were talking about the case."
Cas sighed heavily. "Of course, Dean. The case takes precedence with you." He stood up, his chair scraping loudly. "You'll forgive me if I'm done discussing the case for the evening. Thank you for the pizza, Sam."
"I paid for the pizza!" Dean yelled after him. He wished he had a better comeback. And one that was true.
"You're a moron," Sam informed him. "And you owe me twenty-five bucks."
"I'm good for it." They all distinctly heard the sound of Dean's old bedroom door closing upstairs. Dean took a vicious bite out of his now-cold pizza. So much for getting laid tonight.
"'Good for it'? Really, Dean, are you? Why are you pushing him away?"
"I'm-"
"No, shut up, Dean, I already know why. I know you better than you know yourself." Sam let out an exasperated breath. "I've tried telling you this your whole life, and you've never believed me, but try to listen, okay? It's okay to let other people in. You're worth it! Me and Bobby, Ellen and Jo - you can expand the circle. Please just let him in. He wants it, despite all your issues, just - let him in, okay?"
The susurration of crickets and cicadas drifted through the open screen door. It was the first warm night of spring. In another couple of weeks, it'd be warm enough for him to take Cas out into one of the surrounding fields at night and watch the stars come out. Which was what Dean had always called it when he'd taken a girl out to the fields and ignored the stars in favor of sex. But with Cas, they'd probably do both. If he didn't leave Dean before then.
"You think I have issues?" he asked finally.
"Dean."
"Sorry," he muttered.
"It's Cas you should apologize to," Bobby said, and rose, collecting the paper plates and lifting the pizza box lids to survey the leftovers. "Your brother's right."
Dean just grunted in reply. The other two bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up and eventually striking up a conversation about something Sheriff Mills had told Bobby the other day. Dean went into the den and tuned them out.
What the fuck was he doing with Cas? He thought he'd had it all figured out. He liked Cas, Cas liked him. They certainly trusted and depended on one another. And the sex was fantastic. He never would have guessed, but putting himself completely into Cas's power and allowing Cas to fuck him, reach so deeply into him, and Cas coming inside him, breathing his name with such reverence, falling apart even as his arms tightened around Dean - it was a huge fucking turn-on. He maybe even loved Cas.
But admitting that shit out loud? He couldn't take it back. It could be used against him. He'd just - he'd had his family for such a long time. They weren't going to leave if he did something stupid. Cas could. But right now, he was the one who'd abandoned Cas.
The floorboards creaked as he climbed the stairs to his old bedroom and pushed open the door, pausing in the doorway. Shadows hid Cas's face and painted his bare chest. Dean made a noise low in his throat, and Cas turned. He didn't say anything as Dean walked across the floor to his bed, remaining quiet and watchful when Dean stopped at the foot of the bed, when Dean slowly unbuckled his shoulder holster and laid it on the nightstand next to Cas's gun, when he pulled his shirt off over his head and shucked his jeans and underwear, when Dean stood there, awaiting Cas's decision. Dean couldn't look away from his eyes. Cas should reject him, close his eyes and push him away. Instead there was a challenge staring out at him.
Cas stretched out in the bed, his nostrils flaring slightly. Dean swallowed and held out a hand, resting it lightly on the worn cotton of Cas's pants. Cas held his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before nodding just slightly. The pajama bottoms made a slight rustle as Dean dropped them onto the floor.
The bed squeaked and groaned when he climbed on top of Cas. He was just enough taller to cover the other man's body completely. Cas's hands came to rest loosely on Dean's waist, not holding him or pulling him near, but not pushing him away either. Dean cupped Cas's jaw in his hands and kept his eyes wide open when he kissed Cas. Each of his kisses told a piece of the story, words translated into action with each lick and nibble, reinforced by the pads of his thumbs brushing circles along Cas's jaw.
Cas's arms tightened around him and his lips parted to Dean's questing tongue. Dean forgot how many kisses they exchanged after that, gentle things completely different in tone than the aggressive passion of their first encounter. It was weird, but good, so unlike any of Dean's previous romantic relationships, his lovers. His kisses stuttered to a halt as the word seared itself into his brain. Cas looked up at him, a knowing expression on his face, before he sighed and lowered his eyes.
"No," Dean rasped, breaking their silent conversation. "I know I suck at this lover thing, and I'm sorry. But don't give up on me. Please don't. I'll - I'll try-"
"I need you to be my lover outside of this bed, too, Dean," Cas said bluntly. "I'll take you however I can get you, and take only what you give me. But I want. I want you to want to stand beside me, instead of toe-to-toe all the time."
"I…" Really, it was the same thing he wanted, he just didn't have the first idea how to do it. "Will you help me?"
Cas stared into his eyes and Dean held his breath. It left in a whoosh when Cas nodded slowly, stretching his neck up to start kissing him again.
The touch of Cas's body set his skin on fire and it occurred to his lust-fogged brain that he was going to get laid after all, fuck, he was going to come from just kissing and skin-on-skin, from being tender with someone. Dean, you've got it bad, the voice in his head told him. Loudly. Shut up, you fucker, I'm making sweet, sweet love here, he told it back. Cas was grinning into the kiss, as if he could hear Dean's thoughts. A wicked glint entered his eye and he reached between them, grabbing Dean's cock.
Cas had the same kinds of calluses he had, hands that wielded guns and pens nearly an equal amount. Cas's touch was gentle, at odds with the glint in his eyes. Almost too gentle, drawing out a mewling sound from Dean at each feather-light stroke of the rough fingers.
"Cas, please," Dean begged, truly begged, and something in Cas's expression shifted. His other hand came forward to pull Dean down by the neck for sloppy kisses with a lot of sucking on lips and tongues and it was totally a mess and totally perfect. Cas's thumb brushed against his slit, smearing pre-come over the head of Dean's cock and suddenly Cas was stroking him faster and harder. Dean began to black out at the lack of oxygen before he came with a guttural groan that was loud enough to wake the dead, collapsing on top of Cas.
Dean breathed heavily against Cas's neck, feeling Cas laugh softly beneath him. Dean pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down at Cas's smirking face. As dry as his mouth was, it went even drier when Cas ran a finger through Dean's come, splashed over his thigh and stomach, and brought it up to his mouth. Fuuuuuuck.
"If that's the way you're going to play this," Dean grumbled, "sit up."
Cas shot him a questioning look, but did as he was told, leaning back against the old wooden headboard. Dean took a breath, and knelt between his legs. Should have stolen Ash's copy of "The Joy of Gay Sex."
The cock was… not a particularly attractive appendage, Dean thought, considering the one before him. He unconsciously licked his lips, and Cas's hips stuttered forward. Dean threw him a glance. His face was flushed, his eyes intent on Dean's movements. Dean licked his lips again, slowly this time, and Cas whimpered. Nice. Dean leaned forward and ran an experimental tongue over the leaking head of Cas's cock, then sat back.
"Dean!" Cas hissed in exasperation, his eyes slightly bulging and a muscle in his jaw twitching. Dean had to laugh.
"Dude, I'm not going to leave you hanging."
He leaned forward again and locked his lips around Cas's cock. Cas, it turned out, was very much into encouragement during blowjobs. Dean spared a fleeting thought for poor Bobby and Sam, trying to hold a conversation or maybe even sleep, somewhere else in the house while Cas moaned and gasped and rocked against the headboard, drowning out Dean's slurping first attempts at a blowjob. It was quite the boost to his ego, having Cas fall completely to pieces as Dean sucked and licked his cock. And the encouragement was welcome because cock-sucking? Not going to go on Dean's list of five favorite things any time soon. Cas was heavy and hot in his mouth, and he tasted of salt and a slightly musky, bitter flavor, and Dean had to concentrate on not allowing him far enough inside to choke on him. Still, the texture of his skin felt good against his tongue, and he focused on that, licking along a nerve until he felt fingers gripping his hair. He pulled back just as Cas came with a loud grunt, come hitting him in the chin, neck and chest.
Cas flopped back onto the bed, breathing heavy, skin flushed. Dean drew a finger through the come on his chest and gave it a little lick. Yeah, definitely not one of his top five favorite activities, but getting that wide-eyed look from Cas? That was in there.
I wrestled the devil, lived to testify
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word length: ~74,000
Warnings: violence, language and sex
Summary: Detective Dean Winchester meets Homeland Security Agent Castiel James over a corpse.
Chapter IX
It takes a powerful man to carry that load
A pretty brunette woman was reading a magazine by his bedside when he opened his eyes again several hours later. The curtain to separate him from the other half of the room was drawn back, revealing an occupied hospital bed and several beeping machines, and beyond that, the night sky poking through the blinds.
"Cas?" Dean croaked, and the woman jumped.
"Oh, you startled me! I hadn't realized you'd woken up," she said.
"Cas?" he croaked again.
"He's still unconscious," she said, glancing across at the other bed.
Dean peered blearily at her. She looked vaguely familiar - pretty eyes, confident gaze, preppy clothes. "Sarah?" he asked.
She smiled, pleased. "I wasn't sure you'd remember. I sent Sam to get some food with your aunt and cousin," she added.
"Good," Dean grunted. "They like babying him." Her lips quirked at that. The last, and only time, he'd met Sarah had been at a classic car show Sam had bought them all tickets to attend. She seemed like good people.
"I've been meaning to ask you, Sarah." He had to pause to clear his throat. He could really handle some water. Wordlessly, she reached for the pitcher on his nightstand and poured a little into a cup for him. He nearly choked on it, but waved her off when she made to rise out of her chair. "So," he wheezed eventually. "Bleaurgh. Sorry about that."
"Are you okay?" she asked, a wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows.
"Yeah, good as new. Anyhow, that thing? That I've been meaning to ask you?" His lips were dry, too, maybe he could get her to give him her chapstick. Probably not, after she heard what he was going to say. "It's not a question, really. More like a statement: if you break his heart, I will destroy you."
He hadn't meant for it to come out so bald. That was a lie, he did. But he hadn't meant for it to come out when they were both sober. Though he supposed he could claim morphine delirium.
She held his gaze for a long moment before nodding.
"I have no intention of breaking his heart. I've had mine trampled before." She smiled suddenly, showing her canines. "Has anyone ever told you you're a bit too overprotective?"
"Nah. If they did, I'd break their face." They gazed at each other for one long moment before they both laughed, Dean's ribs reminding him quite painfully why he should not do that.
"Dean!" Sam appeared in the doorway, wincing at Dean's gasping wheeze of a laugh. "Oh my God, are you in pain?" He rushed to Dean's bedside, Jo and Ellen hot on his heels. Dean would have laughed harder at the sight of them falling all over themselves, but bruised ribs trumped his morphine good mood.
"They don't let you strangle cats in the hospital, Dean," Jo teased him, her light tone at odds with the tight worry lines around her eyes.
"Everybody move back and give the boy some air," Ellen commanded, hooking her fingers in Sam's and Jo's collars and giving a tug. She immediately took their place at the head of his bed, glanced across him at Sarah, then turned her focus on Dean. "You're grinning like a loon. How much morphine did they give you?"
"Enough to float a boat. I'm good as new, ready to get back to work." He coughed, and winced at the flare of pain in his chest. Ellen raised her brow at him. "At least well enough for Sam to fill me in on some things."
"Sam is not a law enforcement official," a male voice said from the doorway. Dean looked through his family members to see Anna standing ramrod straight in the entrance to the room, Gabriel Smecher beside her with tired eyes and one arm in a sling.
"Are you trying to kick us out?" Jo asked, her voice escalating. "We're not leaving. We just got back here!"
Anna and Gabriel were armed, Ellen and Jo were not, but if he didn't do something, Dean had a feeling the agents were going to get their asses handed to them. "Aunt Ellen," he croaked, playing up the family angle, and she knew it, too, judging from her narrowed eyes, "could you please call Bobby for me? The Impala's hurt bad, I need to know she'll be okay." He gave her his absolute best Bambi eyes.
Ellen could never resist the Bambi eyes. She gave Anna a level look, then laid her hand on her daughter's arm and said in a loud whisper, "It's okay, we'll get all the important stuff later. Come with us, Sarah," she said, raising her voice, "it's high time we got to know one another. Jo's gonna call Bobby, I can't wait to hear why Sam didn't tell us about you for so long."
Sam cringed as the three women left, each shooting him identical looks of disgruntlement. Dean found it uproariously funny, but only managed a slight croak.
"Explain to me again why the moose gets to stay?" Gabriel asked, gesturing at Sam after the door shut behind Sarah and her interrogators.
"Dean will just tell him everything after we leave anyhow," Anna answered crisply. She'd changed since the alley, and was in her no-nonsense FBI pantsuit. Her pumps beat a sharp staccato on the tiles as she crossed to Dean's bed and picked up his medical chart. The noise reminded him uncomfortably of Lilith in the warehouse.
"How did Lilith get away?" he asked with no preamble.
Gabriel and Anna exchanged a look. "You're absolutely sure she was there?" Anna asked.
"Am I - what?" Dean struggled to sit up. "She was there - at the alley, you said-" He batted away Sam's hands, trying to get him to relax, and glared at Anna. "I asked you about her there!"
"And I said no one had seen her," Anna snapped back. She took a deep breath, visibly calming herself. "Look. Dean. There's no record of what went on in that warehouse. No one else saw Lilith."
"Then why'd you even bother going there?" he grumbled.
Anna sighed and glanced over at Cas's bed, but it was Gabriel who answered, looking down at Cas's unconscious body. "Because my brother asked us to."
Dean's throat closed and his eyes watered. Cas had been unconscious the last time he'd seen him, practically at death's door. How had he said anything? Would he ever say anything again?
"When Rufus found the Impala," Sam said in a low voice, "there was a message written in blood on the floormat. AD has DW, and a license plate number."
Dean blinked rapidly and looked up at the ceiling. The tiles were fascinating and not at all blurry.
"Your partner and Major Henriksen did not divulge that information to the rest of your fellow cops," Anna said, picking up where Sam had left off. "Instead they called me with it, then set their trap for the informant at your station."
"And who was it?" Dean asked in a rough voice. His brother squeezed his shoulder briefly, and Dean drew strength from Sam's sure grip.
"Scott Carey. Henriksen thinks he had no idea he was helping Lilith. A classic patsy. I'd like to investigate myself-"
"IA will do it," Dean interrupted her. Scott Carey. Damn. He was just a kid, young and a little stupid, easily manipulated. Dean could picture him at the crime scene outside the West Hyattsville Metro. Someone was going to have to tell him of his other connection to the murdered DHS Agent. IA would hardly sugarcoat it, but Anna would break Carey with one look. Anna opened her mouth to argue with him, but Gabriel cut her off.
"Leave off, Anna. It's not really your jurisdiction."
"Lilith's involvement makes it a federal case," she said, shaking her head.
"So now you believe me that Lilith was there?" Dean asked drily.
"I didn't say I didn't believe you-"
"Sure as hell what it sounded like to me!"
Gabriel stuck two of his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Dean and Anna shut up and turned to glare at him. He grinned back. "Ladies. You're both beautiful. But maybe we have other things to discuss?"
Ladies? "Okay, asshole," Dean agreed. "How about you explain how the fuck Alistair got out of your custody and ambushed me and Cas?"
Gabriel winced, his eyes darting back to Cas again. "Fuck. That's quite the tale."
"He break your arm for you?" Dean asked.
"Despite my heroic acts of brave derring-do. Probably would have garroted me but for Balthazar," Gabriel continued, mumbling.
"Who's Balthazar?"
"Another Agent. Friend of ours." Gabriel gestured between him and Cas. "Anyhow. We hid Alistair, like we said we would. And Lilith technically didn't find us."
"What he means is, Raphael found them. And Lilith was following him, letting him do all the dirty work to find you, because she knew he would." Anna was glaring at Gabriel by the time she finished.
"So Raphael is my fault now? What, I'm supposed to keep all the balls in the air?" Gabriel looked like he wanted to cross his arms, but that was a bit impossible with one arm in a sling.
"No, just your own," Anna shot back. Dean and Sam exchanged quick glances, lips twitching.
"Anna Milton, going for the potshot. Never thought I'd see the day. If you'll recall, you said you'd keep an eye on Raphael-"
"An eye, not a tail!"
"-because he already distrusted me, remember that? Remember how he'd like to hang Cas out to dry?"
"'Cas' is hardly pure as the driven snow-"
"Enough," Dean cut them off with a growl. It was no longer strangely amusing to watch the two of them go at it like squabbling children. "Whoever fucked up, it's done." Which could have been worded more diplomatically, as Anna and Gabriel both narrowed their eyes at him, but whatever. "Alistair escaped, knocked Gabriel down for the count, so I bet neither of you know that Crowley is alive? Right?"
Gabriel's eyes widened. "The fuck?"
Anna frowned as she ran through her mental notes. "Crowley. A mid-level manager in Lilith's organization? The corpse that brought you into contact with DHS?"
"Yeah. Him. Not a corpse anymore. That's why Alistair grabbed us. Lilith thought Crowley and I were working together." He cleared his throat. "Alistair made the decision to leave Cas behind, as a kind of warning."
"How'd he get the jump on you?" Gabriel asked. Dean could feel a flush crawl up his neck, and he was suddenly powerfully aware that he was in a hospital gown, which was not high enough to cover up the remnants of his Cas-given hickey. Gabriel's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"He's Alistair," Anna said with a wave of her hand, continuing on, oblivious. "Let's get back to Lilith in the warehouse. Dean, anything you remember will help. Give us some details. How did she hold herself? Why did she need to find Crowley? Start at the beginning."
Sam poured him several cups of water over the next hour, and helped him walk on wobbly legs to the little ensuite bathroom twice, as he struggled to dredge up everything his detective's mind had taken in from the warehouse and Lilith's behavior, back to the meeting with Crowley at Chuck's mother's house that morning. The only thing he left out was the content of the conversation he and Cas had been having when Dean had pulled over on that fateful stretch of shoulder in PG County. Still, there was something about her expression when he spoke about Cas and the Impala getting pushed down the rainy road, and he didn't dare meet her eyes until he was delving into the part of the story within the warehouse. One look at her, and he knew her obliviousness had been feigned. She knew. A miniscule shrug of her shoulders, and she let him go, neatly severing their relationship. It might have stung but for the morphine and the fact that it had never truly been real. Maybe now it could develop into a real friendship. He sat a bit straighter in his hospital bed and told them everything he could recall of Lilith.
Cas still hadn't woken by the time they were done going over every detail and hashing it out again and again. Anna and Gabriel left first, off to do important things, useful things, while Dean had to lie on his ass in the hospital.
"Crowley's not going to talk to one of them," he groused to Sam after they left.
"Thought you didn't want to talk to Crowley, either," Sam said, surreptitiously checking his watch.
"I don't, but they're not going to find his sorry ass until he comes crawling out of the muck again, and he's not going to do that for one of them."
Sam looked down again.
"I'm sorry, princess, are you going to turn into a pumpkin or something?" Dean asked, annoyed. "Why the hell do you keep checking your damn watch?"
Sam started. "Uh," he stammered, running a hand through his hair. "Ellen and Jo have had Sarah to themselves for an awfully long time…"
"Dude, seriously?! Lilith and Crowley are on the loose, Crowley could still conceivably initiate a terrorist attack on U.S. soil, fuck, Lilith still could if she could get her hands on her money, I'm stuck in the hospital, can't do shit about any of this, the Impala is up on bricks at Bobby's, and Cas - Cas still hasn't woken up!"
His voice cracked a bit at the end, embarrassing him. He'd put it down to the morphine later. Anything weird he said would be laid firmly at morphine's door.
Sam gave him a stricken look. "I'm sorry, Dean! I-"
"Forget it."
"Dean-"
"No, I mean, this isn't your problem, you're not a cop-"
"I know, I can't do anything about that, but I know what it's like to love some-"
"Stop talking."
"Dean-"
"Stop talking."
Dean's nostrils flared, and Sam shut up. An awkward silence descended on them as Dean's stomach did flip-flops. It was one thing, maybe admitting certain feelings to himself when he'd had the shit beaten out of him and circumstances looked dire. But having Sam voice them out loud? That was just - that was too much.
Sam cleared his throat. "So. It's great not talking about this stuff, really, Dean, but if you change your mind… call me instead of Oprah, okay?"
It startled a small smile from Dean's lips. "Get out of here, you big girl."
"You sure? You need anything else?"
For Cas to wake up. Can you make that happen? "Nah. I've got my water. Well, you could send Jo in. To give me an update on my baby."
Sam smiled, and leaned down to brush his lips across Dean's forehead. Dean blinked at him. Sam hadn't kissed him since they were kids; Dean distinctly remembered the last time - Sammy had stayed up late, reading by flashlight under his covers, back when they lived with their dad in the apartment off New York Ave. Where the Red Fern Grows, that had been the book, and Sammy had been a mess of tears and clinging hugs, kissing and snotting all over Dean's forearm when he'd wrapped his arms around his little brother and let him sleep the rest of the night with him. Dean's eyes watered now. From the morphine.
Sam squeezed his shoulder again and hurried off to rescue Sarah from their aunt and cousin.
Dean threw the covers off the minute the door closed behind Sam. It was a very short walk to the other end of the room and Cas's bed, but it took almost all his energy. Finally he was leaning down over Cas's bed, looking into his face.
He had a hell of a shiner, and little bandages over his right cheekbone. He was breathing on his own, though, which was awesome, absolutely awesome, and it took Dean a moment to realize he was mumbling that out loud.
"You're awesome, Cas, you're gonna be fine, and we'll let Gabriel and Anna worry about those other fuckers, we'll go and put the Impala back together, you and me and Bobby, and Sammy can help, but he's kind of pitiful with cars, don't tell him I said that, he likes to think he knows what he's doing. She's beat up pretty bad, but we can fix her. You just need to wake up. Come on, dude, you can't leave me out on this limb by myself. I need you to help me fix the Impala. Come on, Cas. Come on."
His own bed was so far away, and he was so tired. He crawled up next to Cas. The bed was huge. It was easy to avoid the wires hooking Cas up to beeping machines, easy to put his arms around the other man's body and hold him to his chest.
"Just gonna rest my eyes here with you for a moment," Dean informed him. The morphine made him press a kiss to Cas's dark hair. Dean was not a snuggler and hair-kisser, so it had to be the morphine. "Jo's coming, and she'll tell us about the Impala, and we'll go to Bobby's, and I'll tell you that I choose you. 'Cause I chose you, Cas."
He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
***
He woke up ten hours later, blinking crust from his eyes. His right arm was asleep, probably thanks to Cas sleeping on it. Cas had shifted in the night, and there were fewer tubes going into him. He must have…
"Cas, did you wake up?" Dean asked in a voice that sounded like rusty hinges.
Cas didn't say anything, but his hand twitched where it was splayed across Dean's shoulder and his lips parted slightly.
"You bet your ass he woke up!"
Dean got whiplash, he turned so quickly. Ellen settled back into her armchair, eyes dancing.
There were several ways he could play this. He could pretend he wasn't overjoyed to hear that Cas had woken up, he was merely concerned, as one colleague to another, since he had just accidentally fallen asleep… with his arms wrapped around another man. Fuck it. He was going to choose the tried-and-true 'act like nothing weird is going on here' and hope that Ellen felt like playing along.
"So, uh, what time is it?"
Ellen's eyebrows practically climbed into her hair.
"Mid-morning. And don't you try playing 'nothing weird is going on here' with me, Dean Bean, I taught it to you." Dean winced, and Ellen gave him a ghost of a smile before sobering. "Now you tell me how you're feeling, the truth, you hear."
He cleared his throat. The truth was he ached all over, he needed to pee abominably and he had no idea how Ellen was going to react to Cas. And truthfully, he needed her to like him.
"I'm fine," he said.
"Translation: you feel like you've just played the part of the piñata at Jo's eighth birthday party." Her eyes roamed his face, his arms still holding Cas, Cas himself. She started speaking again, almost as if she was talking to herself. "I remember the morning after your momma died, seeing you with Sammy, I knew right then you'd go into the family business, you'd be a cop, you'd do something crazy where you're always risking your life for someone else."
"Aunt Ellen-"
"No hear me out," she said, raising her hand, her voice growing stronger. "I'm not done. I didn't want you to be a cop, God knows I don't want Jo to follow after you and wear a damn gun and a badge, but she's gonna. You, Sam, Jo - what you do is in your blood, and you're not gonna stop." She leaned forward, all mirth gone from her eyes, and laid her hand gently on his arm. "And I worry, you know I do. You're always looking out for Sam, and I know the two of you will be the support Jo needs when she graduates. But you, you always big brother Sam whenever he wants to protect you back. You need someone, you need family to watch your back, Dean. And if this man here is it," she tapped lightly on Cas's hand, "then he's better than fine with me."
Dean swallowed hard and tore his eyes away from Ellen's to blink at the wall. Watery eyes must be a side effect of morphine. She graciously gave him a moment. What must they have talked about, Ellen and Cas, when Cas woke up in the hospital, being held by Dean with Dean's tiny, motley crew of a family gathered round? It was just… so fucking intimate it was making Dean's skin crawl, even though he never wanted to let Cas out of his sight, out of his arms. And Ellen, spilling her guts to him like that? God, he wished he could set her fears to rest. He needed more morphine.
"Thanks, Ellen," he managed finally. "Really."
"I know it's a lot to take in." Ellen pushed back in her seat and stood up. She, too, leaned over and brushed her lips across his forehead. The hospital was bringing out the sappiness in his entire family. He doubted Jo had kissed him, though. She'd probably taken pictures of him and Cas snuggled together like bunnies. Dammit. "I've got to get back to the Roadhouse before Ash burns it down. He'll be in later to see you, by the way, with old Rufus."
"Awesome," he mumbled. He hoped Sam had filled Ash and Rufus in; he really didn't feel like going over everything yet again. And Rufus was probably going to kill him; their case had exploded, doubling their workload and where was Dean? Stuck in the fucking hospital. "Did the doctor tell you when I could get out of here?"
"Patience is a virtue, Dean," she said, that old twinkle back in her eye. "Rest up. Oh, and Jo left you a note." She fished a scrap of paper out of her jeans pocket, kissed his forehead once more and left with a lingering glance at Cas's sleeping face.
Dean opened the note one-handed. He still couldn't move his right arm, thanks to Cas.
Brakes, bumper, alignment - nothing insurmountable - Bobby ordering parts.
Cute boyfriend, btw. Where's mine? :P
P.S. Try not to get yourself killed, or my mom'll kill you.
P.P.S. Sarah seems nice.
Nothing insurmountable -- those were the magic words. They could put his baby back together. He yawned widely, and hobbled carefully into the tiny bathroom. It was a lot easier to do with Sam helping him walk and waiting outside, but he was pretty proud of himself. Dean Winchester, able to piss on his own. Someone give him a medal. He should really return to his own bed, but Cas's was so warm and comfortable and easy to fall into. So he did.
He woke up again when the flash went off in his face.
"Jesus, Ash!" he yelped, eyes flying open as his brain told him to reach for his gun, wake up, defend. There was a loud slapping noise, and Ash howled in pain.
"Why'd you smack me, old man?"
"You don't use flash when you're going for blackmail photos, you idiot. The point is for him not to know you took them, dang."
"Gee, thanks for defending my honor, partner," Dean muttered, eyes adjusting. Ash and Rufus were both grinning at him, Ash rubbing his head and trying to give Dean a wink at the same time.
"We can let you go back to snuggling and cuddling, Winchester, if that's what you want," Rufus said.
"I'm not fucking cuddling. My arm's asleep." Why hadn't he got out of Cas's bed and into his own? He was never going to live this thing down.
"That's 'cause Prince Charming is snuggling it," Rufus snorted. "Ash, tell Sleeping Beauty here what you told me about the bank accounts."
Sleeping Beauty reminded him of Alistair's taunts, and he shifted uncomfortably in the bed, missing whatever teasing remark Ash led off with. Which was just as well. Rufus watched him sharply, eyes narrowed. He'd noticed something.
"-all frozen. So then I thought to myself, 'Self, what about the unofficial accounts?' They have to have them, right? What's in those? And…"
Dean tried to pay attention, but Ash's creative accounting was even more boring than his technobabble. And Cas was sleeping on his chest, his partner was watching and doing his damn best to act nonchalant, which was so out of character for Rufus, Dean could only surmise he'd actually been afraid for Dean's life.
"…through the foster system which, please, I could crack those in my sleep, it's like stealing candy from a baby - a big, whiny baby with no motor control and itty bitty hands and…"
Cas was snuffling in his sleep, like a cute puppy, and Dean caught himself starting to make a doofy grin. He looked up quickly and saw Rufus rolling his eyes, a much more normal Rufus Turner reaction.
"…under Fremont! The name of the foster family she had in New Harmony, Indiana, twenty years ago!" Ash announced triumphantly.
"Wait, what?" Dean asked.
"My point exactly." Ash nodded. "Pretty creepy, right? Hiding thousands of dollars in an account named after your old foster family, that just happened to die in a mysterious house fire? Bet she thought no one would ever be able to trace her back as Lily Fremont. Just goes to show you can't hide from Dr. Badass." He blew on his knuckles and waggled his eyebrows.
"Lilith was in foster care?"
"Fucking pay attention, Baby Winchester," Rufus chided him. He returned Dean's dirty look with a broad smirk.
"Yeah, once I cracked it open, all this shit spilled out." Ash glanced around the hospital room. "Hey, has anyone brought you chocolates yet? Or cheetos, I'm not too fussed, but I could use something…"
"Later, Ash." Dean snapped his fingers, getting Ash's focus back on him. "Who were Lilith's birth parents?"
"Mother died giving birth, far as I can tell. Her father, though, he was a real piece of work." He made a face. "Legally changed his name to Lucifer, went a little batshit crazy, got himself institutionalized. Why Lilith got put in foster care in the first place."
"Huh," Dean mused, chewing on his lower lip. "Something Crowley said…"
"What?" Rufus asked. "Come on, spit it out."
"He said Lilith was looking for approval from an absent father," Cas rasped, eyelashes fluttering as he slowly blinked his eyes open. Dean forgot to breathe for a moment when their eyes met. Ash said something, and so did Rufus, but Dean didn't hear them. Cas was alive, and awake, and right there. Unthinking, he brought his left hand up to cup Cas's chin and leaned down to kiss him.
Cas's lips were dry, and his breath was foul, as was Dean's, but he didn't care, and deepened the kiss. Cas finally broke the kiss, breathing hard.
Ash wolf whistled.
"Nice tiles you got here," Rufus remarked, squinting up at the ceiling.
Dean ignored them both. Cas was staring at him, his typical intense blue gaze, only slightly clouded by pain and sleep. There was a spark burning within their depths, something like joy. Dean took a deep breath.
"Okay. So Lilith's got her hands on some emergency funds. What about Crowley?"
They talked until the doctor came and kicked Rufus and Ash out, and made Dean get back in his own bed, with the promise that Dean, at least, might be discharged the next day.
Later that evening, ensconced once again in Cas's bed, with Cas asleep on his chest, Dean's mind turned back to his meeting with Crowley. There was something about how he'd spoken of Lilith. Alistair and all the rest had seemed cowed by her, but Crowley had been almost contemptuous. Though still scared, and if not of Lilith, then what or who? With that thought, he fell into an uneasy sleep.
***
The next two weeks passed with the same feeling, as if bugs were crawling beneath his skin. Cas felt it too, and tempers were short in Bobby's house. Dean was beginning to think Bobby'd kick them out for disturbing his peace, but he never did.
A constant stream of traffic showed up at the farmhouse from DC and PG County. Sam, of course, and Anna, Gabriel, Ash, Rufus, Ellen and Jo, Major Henriksen, once even Chuck and Becky, all found their way out to the Singer homestead in between turning the DC metro area upside-down and shaking it for Lilith and Crowley.
For the first week, Dean worked on restoring the Impala with Bobby, in between bickering with everyone who came by with information on the case, and Cas most of all, after his early release from the hospital the day after Dean. It seemed Dean couldn't resist picking at whatever they had between them, as if everything he had said under the influence of morphine was an invitation to see how much he could push before he broke it. And every moment he wasn't covered in engine grease or yelling at Ash or Cas or whoever, he and Cas spent fucking.
He had no idea where they got the stamina from. They were both still on pain pills, and Cas had to wear a boot cast on his left leg, but that first night at Bobby's, after Dean had helped Cas up the stairs to his old room, they'd undressed and crawled into bed, falling into exhausted sleep. Dean had woken up to find Cas half-hard and half-asleep, pressing up against his ass.
He almost had a second freakout, bigger than the first, but then Cas had woken completely up, looked at his face, and slid down the bed to lick him open, his tongue delving in again and again, reducing Dean to a quivering, whimpering mess. He was round the bend before he even felt the first press of Cas's cock entering him, and maybe it hurt, a little, but he'd had aspirin before bed, he always kept lube in his night stand, and Cas was hitting his prostate, slowly, sleepily, and it took them half an hour to come.
The next morning he'd woken a little sore, a little surprised, and Cas had fucked him again, lying draped across his back, rocking the bed with each slow thrust, the pillow catching each of Dean's moans and muffling the noise.
As the days passed, and the Impala returned to fighting shape, he and Cas fucked and argued in equal amounts. Cas was no pushover, dominating Dean in their bed, despite his more substantial injuries. To his utter embarrassment, Dean found that he loved not needing to be the strong one for once, loved it when Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders for better leverage and moved inside him. It just made him lash out harder during the day, though, arguing about the dumbest things imaginable, not even related to the case - the type of bread for sandwiches, if it would rain in the afternoon or the evening, even once over the shirt Cas was wearing. Cas had won that one by stripping the shirt off and using it to gag Dean as he fucked him in the barn with Bobby and his neighbor right outside, talking tractors.
News finally began to trickle in. The first piece Henriksen brought himself. After finding out his inadvertent connection to Lilith, Officer Scott Carey wrote a note to his mother and then blew his brains out in the Hyattsville break room. Dean went into the barn and punched bales of hay, muttering obscenities. Cas found him there an hour later, a dirty, sweaty mess, and pushed him against the side of the barn before kneeling and taking him into his mouth. Dean was rougher than he meant to be, but Cas took it, and pretended the tears on Dean's cheeks were tracks of sweat.
Chuck and Becky didn't have a death to report, or at least they had no body. Becky's erstwhile boss, the motivational speaker who'd taken War as his dumbass stage name, had disappeared without a trace. Becky didn't seem put out by it, and spent their entire visit grilling Bobby about the method he used for arranging the books in his den, and had he ever considered going digital? Chuck drew Dean and Cas aside to tell them that he had his ear to the ground for any word on Lilith or Crowley, but even he, with all his contacts, hadn't heard anything about their whereabouts. The only thing he could gather was that Lilith's new crime family had imploded.
"My guess is she promised them fireworks and they turned on her when the show fizzled," Chuck said. "And can you blame them? I once went to this fireworks show set to music from Star Wars and it rained. No fireworks, and my Boba Fett costume was ruined. It sucked ass. I would have demanded my money back if I'd actually paid for a ticket."
The next death was found by Gabriel and Agent Balthazar Dion. Dean disliked the new agent on sight, but Cas looked happy to have him sitting at Bobby's rickety kitchen table with them. Cas even laughed at one of Balthazar's jokes, the two of them chortling over a literary bon mot that Dean got, thank you very much, but he found to be pretentious. He broke one of Bobby's plastic cups from an ancient Jurassic Park and Burger King special deal, his death grip sending soda leaking over his fingers and spilling across the table. Balthazar had smirked at him as Cas helped him clean it up, and told them he and Gabriel had found the man codenamed Pestilence in his filthy apartment, bugs crawling over his corpse. He'd been poisoned, they thought, but they'd turned the body over to the CDC. Security around the Capitol building had been tightened and double-tightened, in case Lilith tried again with a new delivery man, but according to Ash, it didn't look like she could afford to.
Especially when Anna showed up with news of Brady's death. The FBI had recovered all three crates from Niveus; however, one small vial was still missing. It looked like Brady had been mauled by wild animals, his guts strewn around him, Anna said, her face turning a shade paler than usual. It must have been pretty disgusting to get that kind of reaction from Anna, Dean thought.
"Which do you think did it?" Dean asked her, sitting over plates of spaghetti in Bobby's kitchen. Where the magic happens. He poked at the long strands of spaghetti. They looked like entrails, but he slurped them right up, unfazed. Bobby looked a little sick, but sprinkled on extra Parmesan cheese.
"He was closer to Lilith," Anna mused.
"Lilith's allies are drying up," Cas argued. "And according to Chuck, her unification of the criminal activity in this area has fallen apart. I do not think she would destroy one of her lieutenants at this point."
"Death by dog strikes me as Crowley," Dean agreed, mouth full of meatball. Bobby didn't even flinch from the meaty spray, just flicked it off and continued eating.
Cas gave him a smile, recently rare when they were out of bed, for agreeing with him for once. Anna snorted and muttered something under her breath. Dean rolled his eyes. She might be okay with his 'relationship' with Cas, in theory, but it was different when they were all conscious and in the same room together. If Cas said up, Anna said down. That friendship would need patience to get back, not really Cas's strong suit. It frustrated Cas, Dean could tell by the way he fucked him hard that night, Dean bracing himself on his childhood desk while Cas stood behind him and slammed in again and again, his fingers roughly jerking Dean off in time with his thrusts.
After the first week, Dean was deemed fit enough to return to work, and he joined in the long commute each day. He could have stayed in his own apartment, but Cas was in Frederick County. They never talked about what was going on between them, just argued and fucked. Now that Dean was back at work, Cas's own uncertain future with Homeland Security weighed heavier on him. Dean hadn't a clue how to solve that problem, frustrated himself with being relegated to paperwork in case he still had any aches and pains. The best he could do was to let Cas have his way in bed. Cas rode him so hard one night he blacked out when he came, Cas sheathed tight all around him as his hips left the mattress and his fingers dug gouges in Cas's thighs. Dean screamed so loud that night Bobby couldn't look at him the next morning.
But when they were both awake and orbiting each other in the kitchen or the living room or the yard, Dean couldn't stop himself from sniping at Cas, questioning his assertions on what he thought Lilith might do next (even when he agreed), who he thought might offer an alliance to Crowley, everything. Bobby kept opening his mouth to say something, before shaking his head and limping away.
Sam joined them every few days for dinner at Bobby's house. At the end of the second week, he arrived bearing pizza. Cas was quiet and moody, disgruntled about still being benched, still wearing his boot cast. Dean was snappish after a day spent in the company of Gordon Walker, who'd delighted in making snide remarks about his still-missing zombie drug dealer.
"So! What's going on with the search, Dean?" Sam asked, a string of cheese dangling from the corner of his mouth.
"A whole lotta nothing, with a side order of shit and red tape," Dean answered, filching another slice of pepperoni off a piece of pizza still in the box. "No one's seen hide nor hair of Lilith, or Crowley."
"Sounds promising," Sam said with a laugh. Cas gave him a flat look, but said nothing. "Sorry, just an attempt at levity."
"These two don't do 'light,'" Bobby snorted. "It's like living with sturm und drang in the flesh."
"Yeah, and you're Merry Sunshine herself," Dean grumbled back.
"I am getting nowhere with the case, Sam," Cas interjected, "because I am stuck here in Frederick County and utterly useless. Dean, on the other hand, has the respect and support of his station, and is able to accomplish things."
Dean rocked back in his chair as if slapped, and Sam paused in mid-bite. "Here it comes," Bobby muttered under his breath.
"What the fuck, Cas? You're not useless! You think I make you feel useless?"
"You misunderstand me. I am simply stating a fact," Cas said in a clipped voice.
"Bullshit. You think I suck at this, don't you?" Oh, yeah, they probably should have talked about their thing before now, Dean could see that in retrospect. "You think I'm a shit - person - for you, don't you?"
"Lover."
"Jesus, Cas! Sam and Bobby are right the fuck here!" Sam and Bobby were resolutely staring at their plates.
Cas slammed his fist on the table, the unexpected show of physical violence from Cas drawing all eyes to him.
"They know, Dean. Everyone knows! We slept in the same hospital bed. That we're lovers is hardly a secret. Your friends and family have accepted it without a batted eye. What are you so afraid of? Do I disgust you so much?"
Dean's mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Fuck, Sam and Bobby were both staring at him now. Sam probably wanted him to make some gushy romantic declaration. He swallowed. "I thought we were talking about the case."
Cas sighed heavily. "Of course, Dean. The case takes precedence with you." He stood up, his chair scraping loudly. "You'll forgive me if I'm done discussing the case for the evening. Thank you for the pizza, Sam."
"I paid for the pizza!" Dean yelled after him. He wished he had a better comeback. And one that was true.
"You're a moron," Sam informed him. "And you owe me twenty-five bucks."
"I'm good for it." They all distinctly heard the sound of Dean's old bedroom door closing upstairs. Dean took a vicious bite out of his now-cold pizza. So much for getting laid tonight.
"'Good for it'? Really, Dean, are you? Why are you pushing him away?"
"I'm-"
"No, shut up, Dean, I already know why. I know you better than you know yourself." Sam let out an exasperated breath. "I've tried telling you this your whole life, and you've never believed me, but try to listen, okay? It's okay to let other people in. You're worth it! Me and Bobby, Ellen and Jo - you can expand the circle. Please just let him in. He wants it, despite all your issues, just - let him in, okay?"
The susurration of crickets and cicadas drifted through the open screen door. It was the first warm night of spring. In another couple of weeks, it'd be warm enough for him to take Cas out into one of the surrounding fields at night and watch the stars come out. Which was what Dean had always called it when he'd taken a girl out to the fields and ignored the stars in favor of sex. But with Cas, they'd probably do both. If he didn't leave Dean before then.
"You think I have issues?" he asked finally.
"Dean."
"Sorry," he muttered.
"It's Cas you should apologize to," Bobby said, and rose, collecting the paper plates and lifting the pizza box lids to survey the leftovers. "Your brother's right."
Dean just grunted in reply. The other two bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up and eventually striking up a conversation about something Sheriff Mills had told Bobby the other day. Dean went into the den and tuned them out.
What the fuck was he doing with Cas? He thought he'd had it all figured out. He liked Cas, Cas liked him. They certainly trusted and depended on one another. And the sex was fantastic. He never would have guessed, but putting himself completely into Cas's power and allowing Cas to fuck him, reach so deeply into him, and Cas coming inside him, breathing his name with such reverence, falling apart even as his arms tightened around Dean - it was a huge fucking turn-on. He maybe even loved Cas.
But admitting that shit out loud? He couldn't take it back. It could be used against him. He'd just - he'd had his family for such a long time. They weren't going to leave if he did something stupid. Cas could. But right now, he was the one who'd abandoned Cas.
The floorboards creaked as he climbed the stairs to his old bedroom and pushed open the door, pausing in the doorway. Shadows hid Cas's face and painted his bare chest. Dean made a noise low in his throat, and Cas turned. He didn't say anything as Dean walked across the floor to his bed, remaining quiet and watchful when Dean stopped at the foot of the bed, when Dean slowly unbuckled his shoulder holster and laid it on the nightstand next to Cas's gun, when he pulled his shirt off over his head and shucked his jeans and underwear, when Dean stood there, awaiting Cas's decision. Dean couldn't look away from his eyes. Cas should reject him, close his eyes and push him away. Instead there was a challenge staring out at him.
Cas stretched out in the bed, his nostrils flaring slightly. Dean swallowed and held out a hand, resting it lightly on the worn cotton of Cas's pants. Cas held his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before nodding just slightly. The pajama bottoms made a slight rustle as Dean dropped them onto the floor.
The bed squeaked and groaned when he climbed on top of Cas. He was just enough taller to cover the other man's body completely. Cas's hands came to rest loosely on Dean's waist, not holding him or pulling him near, but not pushing him away either. Dean cupped Cas's jaw in his hands and kept his eyes wide open when he kissed Cas. Each of his kisses told a piece of the story, words translated into action with each lick and nibble, reinforced by the pads of his thumbs brushing circles along Cas's jaw.
Cas's arms tightened around him and his lips parted to Dean's questing tongue. Dean forgot how many kisses they exchanged after that, gentle things completely different in tone than the aggressive passion of their first encounter. It was weird, but good, so unlike any of Dean's previous romantic relationships, his lovers. His kisses stuttered to a halt as the word seared itself into his brain. Cas looked up at him, a knowing expression on his face, before he sighed and lowered his eyes.
"No," Dean rasped, breaking their silent conversation. "I know I suck at this lover thing, and I'm sorry. But don't give up on me. Please don't. I'll - I'll try-"
"I need you to be my lover outside of this bed, too, Dean," Cas said bluntly. "I'll take you however I can get you, and take only what you give me. But I want. I want you to want to stand beside me, instead of toe-to-toe all the time."
"I…" Really, it was the same thing he wanted, he just didn't have the first idea how to do it. "Will you help me?"
Cas stared into his eyes and Dean held his breath. It left in a whoosh when Cas nodded slowly, stretching his neck up to start kissing him again.
The touch of Cas's body set his skin on fire and it occurred to his lust-fogged brain that he was going to get laid after all, fuck, he was going to come from just kissing and skin-on-skin, from being tender with someone. Dean, you've got it bad, the voice in his head told him. Loudly. Shut up, you fucker, I'm making sweet, sweet love here, he told it back. Cas was grinning into the kiss, as if he could hear Dean's thoughts. A wicked glint entered his eye and he reached between them, grabbing Dean's cock.
Cas had the same kinds of calluses he had, hands that wielded guns and pens nearly an equal amount. Cas's touch was gentle, at odds with the glint in his eyes. Almost too gentle, drawing out a mewling sound from Dean at each feather-light stroke of the rough fingers.
"Cas, please," Dean begged, truly begged, and something in Cas's expression shifted. His other hand came forward to pull Dean down by the neck for sloppy kisses with a lot of sucking on lips and tongues and it was totally a mess and totally perfect. Cas's thumb brushed against his slit, smearing pre-come over the head of Dean's cock and suddenly Cas was stroking him faster and harder. Dean began to black out at the lack of oxygen before he came with a guttural groan that was loud enough to wake the dead, collapsing on top of Cas.
Dean breathed heavily against Cas's neck, feeling Cas laugh softly beneath him. Dean pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down at Cas's smirking face. As dry as his mouth was, it went even drier when Cas ran a finger through Dean's come, splashed over his thigh and stomach, and brought it up to his mouth. Fuuuuuuck.
"If that's the way you're going to play this," Dean grumbled, "sit up."
Cas shot him a questioning look, but did as he was told, leaning back against the old wooden headboard. Dean took a breath, and knelt between his legs. Should have stolen Ash's copy of "The Joy of Gay Sex."
The cock was… not a particularly attractive appendage, Dean thought, considering the one before him. He unconsciously licked his lips, and Cas's hips stuttered forward. Dean threw him a glance. His face was flushed, his eyes intent on Dean's movements. Dean licked his lips again, slowly this time, and Cas whimpered. Nice. Dean leaned forward and ran an experimental tongue over the leaking head of Cas's cock, then sat back.
"Dean!" Cas hissed in exasperation, his eyes slightly bulging and a muscle in his jaw twitching. Dean had to laugh.
"Dude, I'm not going to leave you hanging."
He leaned forward again and locked his lips around Cas's cock. Cas, it turned out, was very much into encouragement during blowjobs. Dean spared a fleeting thought for poor Bobby and Sam, trying to hold a conversation or maybe even sleep, somewhere else in the house while Cas moaned and gasped and rocked against the headboard, drowning out Dean's slurping first attempts at a blowjob. It was quite the boost to his ego, having Cas fall completely to pieces as Dean sucked and licked his cock. And the encouragement was welcome because cock-sucking? Not going to go on Dean's list of five favorite things any time soon. Cas was heavy and hot in his mouth, and he tasted of salt and a slightly musky, bitter flavor, and Dean had to concentrate on not allowing him far enough inside to choke on him. Still, the texture of his skin felt good against his tongue, and he focused on that, licking along a nerve until he felt fingers gripping his hair. He pulled back just as Cas came with a loud grunt, come hitting him in the chin, neck and chest.
Cas flopped back onto the bed, breathing heavy, skin flushed. Dean drew a finger through the come on his chest and gave it a little lick. Yeah, definitely not one of his top five favorite activities, but getting that wide-eyed look from Cas? That was in there.
I wrestled the devil, lived to testify