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Jealousy’s cradle

Chapter Text

Working as a CEO for my grandfather's company may seem to be a blessing to many of the inhabitants of the small town we live in, but I can assure you its far from the grace of God. Not to say I don't appreciate all that my position has brought me, I definitely do. But there are things about my job that make me consider giving it up, fleeing from this cursed town with a history that could deem it a catastrophe. I wouldn't say this town is full of hicks and unwanted ill-mannered hillbillies with no sense of compassion, but I'm not denying that either. I want out of this disgusting small town of Georgia, I want to hit the big cities, pick up friends with benefits in each state until I consider myself to be old enough to settle. I'm pushing thirty-four so my days as a single bachelor should be coming close to being numbered, but I refuse to let those days dwindle without fulfilling their destiny. Not to mention I haven't laid with a man in ages, that flame would soon reignite itself, well I hoped it would. Men in this town...weren't exactly desirable. There were a select few that I wouldn't mind bringing them back to my penthouse for the night. I could say the same for the women here except I don't have to worry about my taste in them considering they find me revolting, I've never understood why but my ex-wife seems to believe its because of the scandal.
"Mr. Novak, you've got a call on line 6. Something about a bar your father owns a share in."
"Thank you, Catrina," I sighed, pressing the button for line 6 and preparing for whatever rant I was going to be served. My father always put his money into things, never admitting to his partners that this would only be a trial run. It was rather disgusting, maybe that's why women hate me. A son is always associated with his father, no matter the clear differences between the two. My father had caused many businesses to run dry, and there was no doubt in my mind my father had put them through to me because he was in another one of his, "meetings."
"Hello, Castiel Novak from Novak enterprises. Who is this?" I asked with a tone that reeked of unintrigued.
"Yeah this is Dean Winchester, I run the bar I believe your dad bought a share in and-"
"Let me guess, his side of the bills are piling up and the bars not making enough money for you to pay them all yourself? Yeah, give me the address and I'll swing by with a check for whatever he owes you," I said as I moved my mouse, clicking on the file that was labeled, "Dad's investments." Sure enough, the name of a bar was listed with a quote that read, "Nice bar, gave it a shot but it's not working out." No other explanation, just "it's not working out."
The man with the gruff voice on the phone hung up after giving me the address, I didn't even get to end the phone call with a polite goodbye. I just got the dial tone. I looked at my wrist and read my watch, the time read 7:45 pm and google maps informed me this was a ten-minute drive. Small town businesses, always so convenient to get to, traffic never was an issue. I got my papers in order and grabbed my checkbook, today would be a long night. I was sure this man would have plenty of concerns and complaints, and I was sure he wouldn't react well when I told him the bad news. They never did.
"Catrina, I'm heading out for the night, just set all calls to the end of the day voicemail and go ahead and take off," I smiled, grabbing my briefcase and making my way out the door and to the elevator. I was quite nervous about this altercation between the barkeep and me, he sounded gruff, intimidating. I really didn't feel like leaving the bar with a nice black eye. It wasn't unusual for my message to cause those hearing it to take their rage out on the deliverer.
I stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby, listening to the faint music that sounded the small space. I couldn't make out what the song was but I didn't mind the rhythm. If I knew the song I might even find myself humming to it. Finally, the elevator came to a halt and I walked out to my car. Driving there would be a joy, thinking about being yelled out, the man on the verge of tears as he proclaimed how he cursed Novak enterprises for ruining his business. That's usually how it went. I opened the driver's door to my BMW and putting the address into my GPS, ten minutes from now and I'd be at the "Winchester Saloon." Dean Winchester, that was the listed owner. I'm sure he'd just be a delight. Ten minutes on the road and I arrived in the part of town where the not so famous Dean Winchester's saloon was located. I parked in one of the only spots left, he must be doing alright considering the place was packed.
As I got out I made sure to lock my car, slipping my keys in my pocket and holding my briefcase close to my side. Cautiously, I slipped past the drunks who gathered at the door. Did they think they were the bouncers, they must, considering how hard they made it to enter. I made my way through the bar like a corn maze. Each turn I took laid another pair of judging eyes. Finally, I was able to squeeze through a pair of drunken teens clearly using a fake ID, their nervous yet proud expressions gave them away.
There stood a man with a scraggly beard paired with a blue baseball hat and a beer belly, he was sipping on what smelled like rum as he spotted me. He waved me over, his eyes soft, he had to be pushing fifty.
"You must be Dean Winchester, I've got the papers and a check just tell me-"
"I'll stop you right there, I'm Bobby, you're looking for my idjit nephew. He's right over there," Bobby laughed, directing me to the man at the end of the bar counter chewing on the end of a pen, staring at a piece of paper like it had killed his mother. He was beautiful.
I nodded and picked up my briefcase from the counter, walking over to Dean. He didn't notice me until I sat down in front of him, that was when he looked up from that piece of paper and let his eyes meet me. I knew I was supposed to say something, but looking at him only made me want to serve him with endless compliments, probably make him uncomfortable with my undying affection for him and still stare at him with a lustful gaze as he threw me out.
"So you're Castiel? The one I spoke to a few minutes ago on the phone?" He asked, taking his pen between his fingers as he came around the counter, taking a seat beside me and propping his elbow up on the counter.
"Yeah, that's me," I laughed, feeling all of my professional willpower fade away. My mind faded from ideas of business tactic and transitioned to ideas of what he and I would be like in a room alone, my lips on his and my hands on his waist. It would be something extraordinary, hearing his gruff voice fade into soft moans. I had to snap out of it, business could not mix with pleasure. It just wasn't professional. I could lose my job for participating in such activities with a client.
"I'm sure you know why I'm calling, your father flaked on us and I've got stacks of bills just piling up. Before he dipped he invested money into things that he thought would make my bar better and now I'm stuck here covering expenses on things I didn't want in the first place. Now either he can reimburse me for that, or I can-"
"Dean was it? I can barely hear you through the many drunks in here," I laughed, he wasn't amused, "Would you mind if you and I took a trip back to my place where we could really sort this out. I can think clearly when I can't hear," I continued, hoping he'd agree to it. Maybe I had ulterior motives, hopes of spending time with him in a different way than we discussed, but I couldn't seem to stop myself from breaking professional boundaries.
"Yeah sure, no problem, let me just grab my keys and I'll meet you outside."

Chapter Text

It was ignorant to think I could invite him over to my place and not be burdened by temptation. Driving back home was brutal, I could barely focus on the road because of my endless thoughts about dean. I supposed the most torturing fact was that to write my address down he had given me the very pen that had sat between his lips upon my entrance into his quaint little bar. I knew it was my own fault for letting my arrogance convince me I was entitled to this, that I could invite him here and not give in to every urge. I knew that it was me playing tricks on myself, having someone like Dean before me and not being able to act on every flirtatious tick my brain sent through my lips.
Of course, I've seen men that have attracted my attention before, but it was never like I couldn't get my mind off of them. They were all easily dismissable, but Dean was different. Dean represented some fantasy that every man had but didn't know until they saw it before their own eyes, but couldn't have it. This was all too ironic, a CEO of a big business meets a local barkeep. It's like a bad porno.
Sitting here on my couch waiting for the buzz of the intercom to sound through my penthouse was an excruciating wait. Dean said he would be a little late due to finishing up his shift at the bar, which I understood. I supposed I was so impatient because the more I sat around here by myself, the more I thought about him. Passing time wasn't as easy as it had been twelve minutes ago when there was still food on the table and clothes on the floor. Cleaning had helped me pass the time, not dwell on the minutes that continued to come while he didn't.
I leaned back against my couch, closing my eyes and breathing in. It was a deep breath, followed by a sigh. I knew what I had gotten myself in to, but Dean didn't. He was a simple barkeep who wanted to talk to the CEO of a company that screwed him over. He wanted his bills paid and his bar to be successful and not be drowned in debt. My dad screwed him over like he does everyone. He leads them on and cuts tie with really no reasonable explanation. I have no idea how we became so successful, considering every other business he pursues he drops in a month after putting in the minimal effort. It's disgusting really. His poor business tactics reflect on me as a person due to the fact we share the same last name, genes, and family.
An astounding buzz sounded through my penthouse alerting me out of my trance. I stood up, grimacing a bit as I was so comfortable on my couch. Straightening out my suit jacket, I walked over to my buzzer and pressed the button.
"It's Dean Winchester, from the bar," Dean, with the familiar gruff voice, said through my intercom. I stifled a laugh, him thinking he had to give me a context as to who he was, it was cute.
"Come on up."
I then backed away from the buzzer and looked back around the house, hoping I had tidied it up enough. I wanted to be presentable, I wanted him to find me professional. Though I wasn't being very professional with my thoughts about Dean. No, I wasn't at all huh?
A knock replaced the startled feeling the buzz gave me before, the knock was hard and loud. A firm knock. Dean worked hard, I was sure there were many aspects that he represented that through. He probably had a handshake just as strong and firm as his knock. I shook the thought and walked to the door, looking into the peephole though I knew who stood behind the door. He stood there with his hands in his pocket, tapping his shoe to the floor and biting his lip. Was he nervous? He had a good reason to be, but at the bar, he had presented himself with such confidence that I hadn't pinpointed him for someone to be anxious in business settings. I had dehumanized him due for my lust for him. A dick move.
I wrapped my hand around the doorknob, breathed in deeply and then opened it with a smile.
"Sorry for the wait, problems at the bar you know?" He laughed, looking in and pulling his hands from his pockets. I could see they were sweaty, he was in fact nervous. I nodded along to a joke, letting out a soft laugh. I gestured for him to come in, stepping back so he would have enough room to walk past me. He smiled, his head down a bit and his shoulder gently brushing mine.
"You can just take a seat on the couch and I'll grab my laptop and we can crank this out," I said as I closed the door, putting the lock back in place and then walking to my bedroom. I closed my door behind me, leaning against it and letting out a deep breath. He was in my house, sitting on my couch, nervous to talk to me. He was nervous to talk to someone who had spent their time from him from the minute they laid eyes on him thinking about him under them. He had no clue how fast my heart was beating, how my veins were sticking out with adrenaline, how anxiety surfed through my blood. I'd done this to myself, I put a poison covered caramel apple before me and I couldn't eat it. I brought myself up and off my door and walked over to my laptop on my study desk, my arm drug down a bit by its weight. It was heavier than usual, or maybe I was just weaker than usual. I knew my front was dwindling with every smile, with every meeting of his eyes. Yes indeed, I was growing weaker. I took a minute to myself, trying to compose the nature of my feelings for Dean before I walked back out into that living room. It would be a hard task, I knew that. There was nothing about this that wouldn't be hard. Looking at him and not letting myself fall back into thoughts about his lips, his eyes, his freckles or his gruff voice I just knew that had the potential to fall into weak whimpers. It was already too hard.
I grabbed the doorknob, too aggressively in fact because the door came swinging back. I was surprised I wasn't sent back against the floor, and thank god I wasn't. Not only would that have been embarrassing, but it could have broken my laptop. I breathed in, finding every ounce of confidence I could to walk back out that door again. It wasn't much, but I made my way back to the living room, taking a seat beside Dean on the couch and opening up my laptop.
"Not to step over a boundary, but I'm just wondering does your, dad, always bail out on shit a month in?" Dean asked passively, a laugh leaving his mouth though he had attempted to stifle it. I returned the laugh, though it was more of a choked cough, "To be frank, yes. If it wasn't for the fact my grandfather started the company up, I don't think it would've ever come to the success it is now."
I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a moment before turning to my side, looking over to him and placing my hand on his shoulder, "I'm truly sorry about all of this. I knew what you were calling about before I picked up the phone. I'm constantly fixing his mistakes and it's tiring. I don't know how to make up for him, but if there's anything I can do just tell me and I'll do it to the best of my ability." I'd never felt the guilt of my father's fuck-ups to this extent, and maybe it was because of the man before me, or maybe it was because no one else had ever confronted me or cared enough to swing by. I'd only ever gotten angry phone calls or told to, "get the fuck out," and more while being shoved out of doors and receiving the dial tone endlessly.
"You could pay the bills that your father cost me," he laughed, though I could tell he meant it. I nodded, laughing myself, "I guess I could, couldn't I?"
I'm sure he wasn't aware I meant it. I lifted my hand from his shoulder and replaced his shoulder with my table, pushing off of the couch and standing up.
"Could I get you a water, whiskey?" I asked, walking around to my kitchen and standing behind the counter, placing my hands on it as I looked to Dean with a cocked head paired with an arched brow. I watched him purse his lips as he pondered his choice, and I couldn't help but smile. What a cute expression. I drummed my fingers on the marble countertop before turning my back to Dean and skimmed the shelves.
"I'll take a whiskey, that sounds appropriate for the nature of today huh?" Dean called to me, I could hear him shuffling on the couch, I could hear his hands run over his jeans and the scruff on his chin. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey, this one dwindling down in content. My job is hard, my life doesn't have much going for it other than work. Embarrassing, but true. I hit the bottle a couple of times a night, a day, an hour. I poured Dean a cup of what was left, going back to the fridge to open another and fix one for myself. I grabbed the two cups, making my way back over to Dean and handing him a cup. He smiled, not hesitating to take a drink from it. I fell back into the couch, taking a large gulp from my cup. I sat my cup down and signed in to my laptop, opening my dad's file on Dean's bar through the company account.
"Can you be honest with me and tell me if you're just pretending to help me where when you say there's nothing you can do I believe you?" Dean asked, looking over the rim of his cup, I could see the fear of that possibility in his green eyes. I looked at him and shook my head, "In all sincerity, I am going to do everything to the best of my ability just like I offered to help you out in whatever way I can," I said, placing my hand on his knee, giving it a light squeeze before returning my eyes to my laptop. I squinted as I focused on the files, the many bullet points that I hadn't seen before. I scoffed, not being able to believe what all my dad had forced Dean in to.
"These costs, they're insane. What do you need self-flushing toilets for? You call your bar a saloon for Pete's sake," I said with a tone that came across as disgusted, and I supposed I was. Every one of these costs happened to be luxury costs. They were easily argued as unnecessary. I could barely believe that my father had believed such glamourous costs would benefit this bar.
"Your dad said it would please the customers, but it did just the opposite. They say it flushes before they're even done," Dean responded, following that with a large gulp of the whiskey and a wince following that. "I'm going to have to pay to get them removed now. The costs just keep piling on and on and on, it's extremely annoying. I mean you see me, I don't look like someone who can afford all this shit, I'm a broke bum," He laughed, chugging the rest of the whiskey and sitting the cup on a piece of paper. It was considerate to use the paper as a coaster, he was too hard on himself. I could tell from that one sentence that he thought himself to be scum, it made me quite sad in all honesty.
"No Dean, you look like someone who's a hard worker, I'll pay for that removal, really-"
"Oh god, I was just kidding about you paying. It's your dad's problem, not yours-"
I waved, dismissing dean's objection, "It's the least I can do. I've got enough money to help you out." I gave him a generous smile and then took his empty cup and walked back to the kitchen, hearing Dean's footsteps following behind me. I opened the fridge, grabbing that bottle once more to refill his whiskey.
The air felt tenser around me, the space around me felt closed in. I didn't know what it was, but I was sure it was the weight of my thoughts of dean crashing down on me all at once. I had held myself together quite well before, not flirting subtly, not crossing the threshold of boundaries. I was rather proud of myself. I closed the refrigerator door and scooted a bit to the left, sitting Dean's cup on the countertop and twisting off the cap, pouring him another drink. I turned around, drink in hand and Dean right before me. A small gasp dared to leave my mouth, the close proximity of his body to mine was all too much. I swallowed thickly, unable to stick out his drink due to the fact that it would bump into the male's chest.
"I really can't tell you how thankful I am for all you're doing for me."
I nodded, feeling my hand tighten around the cup, an involuntary action. He couldn't possibly understand what he was doing to me nor could I expect him to.
"It's really nothing, don't mention it," I smiled sitting the cup down on the counter as best as I could. My hands were practically trembling, beginning to clam up. This simple gesture of his, the small distance between us was enough for me to lose it. I knew I had to break away, but I didn't want to. He was so close to me, his lips only an inch or two away, his chest aligned with mine and his hands in his pockets though I wished they were intertwined with my own. Dean was like no one I had ever laid my eyes on before, he had some sort of cloud of seduction following him with ease. He didn't mean to attract who he did, but you'd be crazy not to want him. He had to be no more than 26, but his work ethic aged far faster than him. I could tell he was an experienced worker, a man of professional dignity but he wasn't afraid to say what he was thinking, and I admired that.
"It's not nothing, you have no idea what you're doing for me."
And you have no idea what you're doing to me. He really didn't, but I had to put on that front. I felt like a school girl crushing on the popular jock behind the bleaches. But he was in front of me now, right here and now and I could barely refrain myself from taking him to my arms and planting my lips on to his own, knocking down his tough guy exterior and see what was under it. How badly I desired to rip the clothes from his body, but I knew what he came here to do and I knew what I had to do. I had to keep my intentions pure and help the man my father had fucked over.
"How about we sit back down and figure out what costs you want to get rid of and what you want to keep and then take a trip back to your bar, and I'll start estimating the price of those removals and such?" I offered, pushing my hands down into my pockets and leaning against the countertop, needing a bit of space to continue to hold on to my professional deminer.
"That sounds great," he grinned, slipping past me to grab the drink I'd fixed him. I poured myself a quick, much-needed drink. I walked back to the couch, Dean following behind me. I plopped down, scrolling through the file until I found the bullet points of costs and investments again. They were all outrageous and I had expected such, but I hadn't expected so many.
"Okay so the self-flushing toilets you want to go, what about the jukebox, intercom system, security system, or the bouncer- the bouncer," I laughed towards the end of my sentence, what did a small town bar need a bouncer for? The security system I understood, but the bouncer?
"I like the idea of a jukebox, but this one cost far too much, it comes with a monthly service like Spotify or some shit. I just want the old fashioned type that you just put a quarter in and pick a song," He laughed, sitting down beside me and sitting his cup down before clasping his hands in his lap, "The bouncer is just ridicoulous, I've wanted to let him go for a while now but firing people just isn't my thing," he paused, letting out a sigh.
"You're the only bartender right, why don't you hire him as a bartender where you can become more of a boss?" I suggested, highlighting the jukebox and the bouncer, putting notes beside them and then marking down that he wanted to be rid of the self-flushing toilets.
"That's not too bad of an idea," he smiled, I could see ideas rilling through his head building off of my suggestion.
"Alright perfect, so what about the intercom and security system?"
"I don't want the intercom system, I haven't used it once. I quite honestly don't need such an over the top security system, I'd love for it just to be a few cameras inside and outside that showed up on my laptop. Much less expensive," Dean told me as he adjusted in his seat.
"Duly noted, I think this is a good starting point for cutting down the costs, I think we should head over to the bar now and take a look at what it'll end up costing in the end?"
"Sounds perfect," Dean nodded as he patted my knee, standing up and grabbing his cup, downing the rest of it before holding out his hand to help me up, I was cautious to take it because I knew it would only leave me thinking about the texture of his hand and the grip it held. I took it nevertheless and pulled myself up from the couch with his hand, which yes, indeed, had a strong grip. His hands were rough yet soft all at once, there was really no describing it. I let go of his hand before it became awkward and grabbed my phone from the table, closing my laptop.
"Alright then, lets head out."

Chapter Text

The car ride over was more brutal than the previous, my radio's volume drowned out by my thoughts about Dean. Each thought about him vulgar and vile. Thoughts about his lips, his hips, his waist, his hair, and oh god those eyes. How they looked at me, I was almost positive he saw right through me. As though my thoughts were written on the wall behind me and he could read them as clear as day. It was embarrassing, I knew he had to have noticed the way I tensed up when he came so close to me. The way I held my breath when I felt his on my neck. There was no way he couldn't read the lust through my body language. Maybe he could, and maybe he chose to dismiss it. But sitting before him, watching him fix me the beer he's offered to and talk about the complicated jukebox that he cursed my father for installing, I could only focus on him, not the words that left his mouth, but what he might be thinking. He had a depth to him, as every human did, but his depth went deeper than most. He was guarded, I could tell. But what in his life had made him built up such high walls? It was a challenge I wanted to commit to accepting, to find out what he kept behind those walls and how far back he hid his secrets.
"Why don't you go throw on some music while I finish up your drink? See if you can figure out how to work that thing," He suggested with a slight curve to his smile before turning his back to me and scanning over the beverages on the shelves behind him.
"Any requests?" I asked, sliding off of the stool and walking over to the jukebox. My eyes skimmed over the design, my index finger tapping the screen for it to come on. It definitely proved to be more complicated than a jukebox needed to be, there was an artist panel, a genre section among many different options. A jukebox didn't need to be so complex. Drunks wouldn't be able to operate this as easily as they would be able to operate an old junky one that you slipped a quarter in and pressed a button. They didn't care enough to scroll through different artists and genres, this device was a preposterous investment for a bar.
"None come to mind, whatever pleases you," He called back to me. I scrolled through the artist panel, too many musicians presented for me to pick. I ended up shuffling on favorites, which I supposed was linked to Dean in some way or another. A song played that I was not familiar with, though I already enjoyed the instrumentals. It was something older, I could tell that from the production. It reminded me of days in the living room with my grandmother, not knowing what she was going through but knowing how much she meant to me compared to my mother and father. A time when money had no meaning to me and greed wasn't a characteristic people associated with me. I sat my hands on the sides of the machine, taking in the lyrics.
"Well, please don't ask me what'sa on my mind
I'm a little mixed up, but I'm feelin' fine" the voice sang. I wasn't sure why the lyrics sat with me so well, but they most certainly did. So much so that I hadn't heard Dean's footsteps approaching me, or the sound of the glass he'd fix me meet the table.
"A great pick," Dean complimented, his hands sitting on my shoulders and patting them once or twice, "You've got to learn how to relax man. The tension in your shoulders is insane, I can feel it through this thick coat of yours," he whispered, his hands moving down my arms and to my elbows, holding me there for a moment before continuing his sentence, "What's got you so tense, hm?" He said in a soft voice, the gruffness that usually lingered in his words gone.
What's got you so tense? You, you do.
I rolled my neck, hearing it crack. There had been a shift in the room, a shift on tension and it was Dean's fault. The atmosphere was clouded with lust, and I knew it to be shared. It had to be. Delusional. I was delusional. Dean was a barkeep with an active quarrel with my father. I was here to help him, and he was here to receive my help. No matter what I wanted, I had to remain professional. Though it was hard to when the feeling of his breath was enough to make my knees weak.
"I suppose stress from work, maybe I just don't recognize the tension it causes because I'm so used to it," I responded lowly. This sentence had some truth to it, Dean was work. He was a client, and he sure was a piece of work.
"You know, in a stressful environment like that you've got to find stress relievers," Dean muttered, his hands moving up my arms and under then, finding their way to the edges of my coat, gripping on to them and slowly pulling it back. I felt myself slipping into Dean's words, his motives were unclear but whatever they were they were extremely strong. The ways of his words were effective, I was drifting back and forth between being pulled into Dean's words and the song playing. I couldn't differentiate between the two, which one held a stronger grasp on me.
"What kind of stress relievers do you recommend?" I asked, feeling the warmth my coat provided now gone. It was in Dean's hands now, and then I heard him drape it over the chair that belonged to the table he'd sat the drink he's made for me, the drink I hadn't touched yet.
"Well," he whispered, his hands panning down my body and to the loops that held my belt, "A good orgasm always does the trick for me."
What did he just say?
"What did you just say?" I asked, my breath hitched and my eyes wide.
Well she touched my hand what a chill I got
Her lips are like a volcano when it's hot
I heard those lyrics play in my head over and over again, his right hand sat on mine and his lips on my neck sent shivers down my spine through the air around me was so humid.
"I said, here's your drink," Dean smiled, holding out the glass he's fixed for me. My coat was still on, not draped over the chair that belonged to the table next to me. His right hand wasn't on top of mind, it was around the beer he had been making since we came in. And his lips, they weren't on my neck, they were where they always were but accompanied with a tight smile.
"Thank you," I mumbled, grabbing the beer and taking a large swig.
"All shook up by Elvis, nice choice Mr. Novak."
"Castiel," I corrected before returning my lips to the glass.
All shook up. That was for sure, I was all shook up.

Chapter Text

"Castiel," Dean repeated, nodding his head as he raised his brows. He was clearly taking in the bizarreness of my name, it was cute. I watched his eyebrows furrow as he let his finger dance around the rim of the cup of beer he had fixed me. I didn't care about that, I didn't care that it wasn't sanitary, I wanted his hands on me anyways, this was just the closest I could get to that without crossing any professional lines. I could've sworn he had already handed it to me or sat it on the table, then again I swore he'd told me about a good stress reliever, I wish.
I took the glass from Dean's hand with a smile, raising the glass to my lips and taking a small sip before sitting back in the chair. I hung one of my arms over the neck of the chair, watching Dean work through the curiosity of my name, "It's apparently some religious thing, but I've never cared enough to look into it," I told Dean, taking another swig of the beer. It was a light and tasty brew, I hadn't had anything like it before. Then again I stuck to whiskeys and hangovers so strong that my vision began to blur.
"I'm curious, what is this beer?" I asked, cocking my head and taking a light whiff of the drink, taking in the airy smell.
"It's my favorite, it's a Mexican brew called El Sol, I don't know where my brother Sam gets it but he always makes sure to bring a six pack when he swings by," Dean smiled, pulling out the chair beside mine at the table, propping an elbow up on the table. I watched his eyes dance over me, those green eyes, so endearing. I could definitely lose myself in them, maybe I already was. Were his lips moving? I couldn't hear anything. It was almost like everything went silent just so I could take in the man before me. It was like a movie, every light shut off beside a select few to shine around him like a theatre center stage. I watched the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled, and god that smile. It was like a damn Colgate campaign, I'd buy every tube of that toothpaste if his picture was slammed on the design.
"So, what do you say?" Dean asked, tilting his head and standing up. I furrowed my brows, fuck had I really zoned out that heavily?
"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked, sitting my beer down on the table.
Dean laughed, apparently amused by my ditzy nature. He crossed his arms over his chest– and fuck, just fuck. His biceps pressed against his chest made for a site that more than riled me up, my tongue ran across my bottom lip without hesitation. I swore if I stared at him any harder I'd start picturing him without a shirt on, and then without his jeans and then...
"I said, do you want to start going over costs and I'll grab us a few more of those El sols?" Dean smiled, arching his left brow. I nodded, wearing a smile myself. I would've answered him verbally but I could barely choke back a groan of frustration from thinking about Dean in nothing but, well nothing. I ran a hand over my face, feeling the effects of the many whiskeys I'd had throughout the day start to kick in. I'd been drinking, a lot lately. Work was stressful and so was my dad, shit life was just stressful. I hadn't thought about how many whiskeys I'd topped off in those expensive crystal drinking glasses my old friend Gabe had gotten me for my first year working at Novak enterprises. Those glasses had to be at least ten years old now.
"That sounds great," I nodded, leaning over and grabbing my satchel with my laptop in it. I pulled out my MacBook, opening my recent tabs and going back to the file that contained my dad's investments, more like failed investments. I switched to Dean's bar, titled Winchester's saloon and began to go through the bullet points again.
"So we already discussed getting rid of those self-flushing toilets, replacing the bouncer as the bartender, getting rid of the intercom system and replacing that fancy jukebox with a more simple one, does that cover everything we talked about back at my place?" I asked, scrolling through the next few costs.
"Well I did want to replace that expensive ass security system with a simpler one," Dean added, taking a seat beside me again and sliding me another beer. I hadn't finished my first but I smiled at him and took it anyway.
"God, my dad really went overboard with these costs, I'm so sorry Mr. Winchester," I sighed, my eyes scanning the numerous following costs. Some weren't too irrational, like replacing the knobs on those little serving chords– I didn't know what they were called and I wasn't going to make an ass out of myself in front of Dean by asking what they were. I knew enough about them to know a new knob was good for them.
"Call me Dean," He sighed obviously under a lot of stress. He forced a smile before running a hand through his hair that fell on either side of his forehead, brushing it back only for it to fall again. I could just imagine myself behind him, gripping onto those locks and yanking his head back to crash my lips against his.
Suddenly a swinging saloon door opened, distracting me from my distracting thoughts. A young man, who could only be a few years younger than Dean came in with a smile on his face and a six pack of beers. Didn't Dean mention someone who always brought him a six-pack of those El sols?
"Sammy!" Dean smiled, standing up and wrapping sam (who I now remembered dean mentioning as his brother) in a tight hug, his large hand moving to pat his brothers back. It was cute, watching Dean be so excited to see his brother. It reminded me of what a good family was like, I wasn't too familiar with that.
"I was on my way back from Stanford and figured I'd swing by my brother's bar, but you seem busy?" Sam questioned, his brown puppy dog eyes glancing over to me and then back to Dean with a curious raised brow.
Dean gestured for me to stand up and make my way over to the two, so I did. My legs were heavy, and a sudden wave of pain sounded its way through my head. I smiled through it though, I was always pretending to be sober during my working hours. I had meant to set my beer down but I was already standing beside Dean, so close that I could almost meet his side with my own but I wouldn't.
"I was just going through the costs with Mr. Novak, getting rid of-"
"Mr. Novak? Hold on, is this the dick who's costing you your bar dean?" Sam boomed with flared nostrils and an angry glare. This happened all the time, always mistaken for my father, my asshole of a father.
"You're mistaken, I'm-"
"You're a prick, you're costing my brother thousands of dollars that he just doesn't have and you waltz in here and you drink his beers with a smile on your face?" Sam laughed angrily, sitting down the six pack of beers he'd brought and moving his hand up to his own face, pinching the bridge of his nose. I went to open my mouth but before I could I felt Sam's closed fist slam into my face, and every muscle in my face began to throb. I'm not sure where he hit me, but I was sure of how bad it hurt and how it sent me down to the ground coughing. My head was lifted by my collar and all I could hear was Dean's faint voice in the distance saying sam over and over again before another blow of his fist came into contact with my face once more, this time my eye and the next time my cheek. Then it was black. Everything was black.

 

 

 

Heres young Dean for you to understand why Castiel is so obsessed ;)

heres young dean for you to see why castiel is so obsessed

Chapter Text

Where am I

Everything here felt different. The bed I was laying in wasn't a cloud of cotton candy like the one I spent so many hours sleeping in at home. It was hard, and lumpy and only every now and then did my back feel some relief. I tried to open my eyes but I couldn't, they were cold. I had enough common sense to understand more than likely a washcloth had been thrown over them, I knew that the cold would feel better than any air hitting the swollen skin. Yes, my eyes were swollen. I didn't remember much about last night but I knew a black busted eye, that feeling was all too familiar to me. I raised my hand, opening it and stretching my fingers. I could stretch them without any trouble so this was not a fight I fought back in. No, I had got the shit beaten out of me. I raised my hand again, moving it to the washcloth. 

  "Wait, I wouldn't do that Mr. Novak," a lovely gruff voice warned me. Dean, now I remembered. I had gotten the shit beaten out of me at Dean's bar. 

   "I told you, call me Castiel. It's the least you can do considering you got me in bed last night," I laughed, but fuck laughing hurt. My lips hurt to move, were they busted too? I heard Dean laugh, nice to know I could joke around with him. 

   "Alright Castiel," Dean spoke softly. I couldn't see him but I knew he was smiling, it was in the tone of his voice. I was sure it was one of those shy sheepish smiles. He was empathetic towards me, considering his own flesh and blood had beaten the hell out of me for sharing the same name as my father. 

   "Mr- Castiel, I'm so sorry about Sammy. He would've never done that sober, he was drunk and angry," Dean sighed, his hand wrapping around my forearm. I flinched and Dean's hand left me. He probably thought he had hurt me, but really it was an involuntary gasp from feeling his skin on mine. I missed it, damn my reflexes. 

    "Don't worry about it Dean, that's not the first time I've gotten my ass kicked for my father," I smiled, maybe Dean thought I was joking because I heard a soft laugh come from his direction, but I wasn't joking, not even close. I couldn't count on my fingers and toes how many times I took a beating that was intended for my father, it was honestly pathetic. I never really fought back, it wasn't in my nature to. I wasn't the kind of person who liked to get into fights, I had too many scandals already. 

  "I just don't know why Sam lost his cool like that, it's so not like him," Dean mumbled, more talking to himself than to me. 

   "Yeah it was pretty unprovoked," I laughed, again grimacing at the feeling in my chest. Was I getting old? Did a few hits to the face hurt my ribs? Against Dean's advice, I pulled the cloth from my face, wincing as I did so but it was worth it. Dean was freshly showered in a robe and probably nothing else under it, mmm yeah. 

  "Any idea why? Well, I know why but he didn't really give me a chance to explain myself," I sighed, trying my best to sit up but letting out a groan of pain, my head was killing me. I wasn't sure if it was from a possible hangover or if it was getting my head pounded in with Dean's giant of a bother. I breathed in again, letting out another quiet groan. I watched worry wash over Dean's face as he leaned forward, his eyes looking over me before his hands set down on my chest. His hands lightly rubbed my chest, his bottom lip between his teeth as he gently moved me back against the bed. This wasn't the way I envisioned Dean pushing me onto a bed, but it was something. 

  "I don't mean to make your morning worse, but, well, Sam's had a lot of pent up anger lately. His girlfriend ruby turned out to be not the best, and when he found out your dad dropped the bar and cost me well...to say the least thousands of dollars he just, he snapped and when he got to the bar he'd been drinking and I guess he just didn't have a clear mind and-"

  "Dean it's okay, don't worry so much," I said, noticing his hands still sitting on my chest, feeling the warmth radiate from his hands. Without hesitation I moved my hand up his forearm, finding his shoulder and then the nape of his neck. I let my fingertips dance through the ends of his hair, lightly gripping the damp dirty blonde locks of hair resting at the start of his robe. He didn't seem to hate it, so I didn't stop. I let my fingers move up through his hair, running through his scalp as my lips parted. I had every reason to want to move in for a kiss, but I didn't. I knew better than that. 

 "So, you been taking care of me?" I asked, inching my head to the left. I watched Dean's cheeks flush with red, a small smile taking hold of his lips. He nodded shyly, moving his hands up my chest. His eyes darted over me before his hands gripped at the fabric of my long sleeve shirt, it would wrinkle but I didn't care. 

 "Well, I appreciate it a lot, you'll have to take care of me more often," I grinned, sitting up and letting my hands run down the frame of his back. I watched his cheeks deepen in their color, hopefully, he wasn't uncomfortable. He didn't seem to be, not with the way his hands made their way down my shoulders. 

 "If you want, you can use my shower. I know it's Monday and you're the big boss man back at your company so," Dean shrugged, moving closer to me before taking the washcloth from beside my hand and helping me up, his hands brushing off the sides of my shirt. I nodded, knowing he was only trying to help me be a responsible boss but fuck we had gotten so close to what felt like a possible opportunity to run my hands over his body, his bare body. That was all I wanted from the moment I laid eyes on him, to lay with him. 

 "You're right," I sighed, watching him stand up and outstretch his hand to me. I took his hand in my own, feeling the roughness of his palms. It was funny, he was a young hardworking man and while I considered myself hardworking it wasn't like him. Dean worked with his hands, and probably grew up like everyone else knowing they had to find their way while I had my future decided for me from the moment I was born. Dean pulled me up, a sweet little endearing smile on his face as he pointed me into the direction of the bathroom. 

 "Thanks, Dean," I smiled, walking into the bathroom and locking the door after myself. I looked up into the mirror, locking eyes with myself. My lips had definitely taken a hit or two, the classic busted lip was what I was wearing. A bruise on my cheek, and it was a gross one. It was almost darker than purple, but not quite black. It would definitely take a few days to heal. My eyes weren't nearly as swollen as they felt, one was quite puffy and a deep purple but my god did I look rather attractive, like one of those movie bad boys. I should throw on a leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses, those little skinny ripped black jeans, and a band t-shirt, definitely of some metal band I didn't listen to. Yeah, I'd look like hot stuff. 

 I slowly began to undress, wondering if I'd uncover any hidden bruises. I didn't remember Sam hitting me anywhere other than my face but after a few punches, I was out cold. There was a light bruise on my pec, but other than that I was clean. I folded my shirt, sitting it on the bathroom counter. I then pulled off my pants along with my boxers, stepping into Dean's shower. I cut on the water, feeling the cold beat down on me. I forgot how terrible some showers could be but I didn't mind. This was Dean's shower and that meant Dean used it, and that made it that more appealing to me. I turned the shower knob the other direction, feeling it finally grow warm, not hot but warm. I ran my hands through my hair, letting the water rinse out all my worries and frustrations. I grabbed whatever bottle of shampoo was closest and squeezed out a handful before lathering it in my hair, scrubbing it until my scalp felt clean. It was refreshing to shower after such a long day, sure I'd rather Dean have joined me and let me lather his warm tanned olive skin with my bare hands, felt the curve of his back under my bare palms and his soft supple lips against my own. In fact, that was all I wanted, but I had a professional duty to fulfill and that's what I had to do. Even if it tortured me to watch him stand before me in that loose robe that exposed the midsection of his chest. Great, now the image of his bare chest was stapled into my mind while I was in the shower of all places. Complete agony. 

 After maybe ten minutes in the shower, I cut off the water a grabbed a towel that was hanging over the shower rod. I wrapped it around my waist and stepped out of the shower, taking another quick look in the mirror before going to the bathroom door and unlocking it, opening it with ease. 

 "Dean." 

 

 

 

 

                                                                 

 

                                                                                                                  hehe

 

                                                                   

Chapter Text

"Dean, what are- what is it?" I asked, my brows furrowed in confusion as I moved to tighten the towel around my hip line. I watched Dean's eyes follow my hands and I felt my cheeks begin to warm. Dean didn't say anything, not a word, he just moved forward and wrapped his arms around my neck, closing his eyes and letting his lips meet my own. I was taken aback by it, not sure if this was another one of my lustful daydreams. It felt so real, so damn real. He was so close to me, and it was all I had thought about for the past twenty-something hours.

   I needed him, and I needed him desperately. I closed my eyes, letting my hands wander his body just as I had thought about in the shower not even a minute ago. It was better than my mind had ever imagined. He tasted so fucking good. I didn't know if it was that El Sol still lingering on his tongue or if he just naturally tasted that fucking good. His hands found their way down my torso, his fingertips grazing my hips before hooking under the towel and pulling me back into his bedroom with a smile. I loved his smile, he still managed to smile under our kiss. I could feel that sweet-natured smile against my lips. I let my hands find the curves of his torso, gripping onto him tightly as I let my lips move down his jaw. He leaned his head to the side for me, making room for my lips against his neck, and I let them find their way past his stubble, nipping at his skin lightly and becoming ever so pleased with the whimper that left his mouth.

 "Please," Dean whispered, his hands moving up my back, his nails digging into my skin. Something about that felt so good, knowing he needed me that badly did it for me. I wasn't ashamed of the hard on that began to surface through that thin little white towel of Dean's. 

 "Hm, what is it, baby?" I whispered back, wondering if the pet name would turn him off but on the contrary, he was tugging at the towel on my waist with pathetic desperateness. It was really quite precious, the way he was so overcome with lust for me. It was exactly what I wanted from him, to see him squirm from just my words. He was so easy to control, every movement of my hand his eyes followed. He wanted me, and he wanted me bad. I couldn't wait to give myself to him.

 "I need you," He whined, his hands leaving my body and moving to the tie on his robe. He slowly began to let the robe drift off of his body, a naughty little smile resting on his plump lips. He looked so cute, trying to work me like I wasn't in complete control. 

  "Are you going to let me do all the work?" Dean antagonized, arching his left brow with a certain confidence and cockiness that made every animalistic instinct in my body kick off without a hitch. I grabbed the sides of his robe, yanking it off his body swiftly. I had been wrong before, he was wearing underwear, this tight little pair of boxer shorts that clung to his thighs like a dream. I pushed him to the bed, watching a smile pull on his lips firmly. He stretched out, letting his fingers hook under the waistline of his boxers teasingly. I took a step forward, moving onto the bed and hovering overtop of him, attaching my lips to his collarbone. 

  My hand ran over his bulge, causing his breath to hitch. So he liked that, he liked being teased. So, of course, I continued to do so. I let my hand move from his bulge and he pouted, the poor thing thought I was done with him. I wasn't even close to being done. I ran my hand along his inner thigh, gripping onto it tightly and listening to his every wine. 

  "You're a needy little thing aren't you?" I asked, moving my hand under his boxers, my fingertips grazing his bare hip. He nodded quickly, biting down on his bottom lip. 

   "I really am, please touch me. I need you so bad," He begged, his hands running down my back as he did so. I loved the way he wasn't shy about how badly he wanted this, how he wanted me. I knew I had been envisioning this among many other things with him since the bar but had he? This whole time I found myself swooning over him, was he swooning over me? The thought made me smile, it made me feel warm and it made me happy. I didn't feel so wrong.

   I smirked against his skin, that soft silk-like skin that I had thought about letting myself fall away in since the moment I laid eyes on him. My hands moved up his chest and to his face as I let my lips slam into his for a sloppy passionate kiss. I found his hair, gripping onto it. It was so soft, and smelled so good and holy fuck he was amazing. He was everything and I envisioned and more. The perfect client. 

Client

  Fuck he was my client. He was my client and I was currently wrapping my hand around my client's dick, stroking him as he begged for more. I was pleasing my client, making him moan and ask for more. He was begging me to touch him as he'd never been touched before, fucking into my hand and arching his back. My client was asking if I had a condom. My client wanted me to fuck him. My client wanted me to cross my professional boundaries. 

I shot up, backing up and looking everywhere for my phone. I saw it on the vanity, and I grabbed it as fast as I could. I had wanted this since I saw him chewing on that pen in the bar, what was I doing? 

  "Castiel?" Dean asked, bringing my focus back up from my phone. I just stood there, my mouth gaping open trying to explain as my fingers sent my driver my current location and telling him to pick me up as soon as possible. 

  "Castiel!" He repeated, standing up and pulling his boxers back up. I just shook my head, god if my dad found out. If he found out he'd lecture me about the scandal waiting to happen. I'd already had one company scandal, I didn't need to have a second. 

  "I- I'm sorry Dean this can't happen. You're my client, this is just a scandal waiting to happen and I can't have more of those. I, I need to go," I panted, feeling the anxiety in my stomach rise to my chest. Everything was getting so tight, I couldn't breathe. I felt sweat begin to run down my temple and the weight of my body was more apparent than it had ever been. 

  Dean sat back down, looking to his palms and shrugging his shoulders. He didn't say anything for a moment, and neither did I. We sat there, staring at each other, knowing that this couldn't happen. 

 "No one has to know," Dean mumbled, standing back up and making his way over to me. His hand sitting on my shoulder once more before his lips met my ear. 

 "I'm really good at keeping secrets," He whispered, sending shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes, every part of me wanting to give in but I knew better. I couldn't, but fuck he smelt so good and he was just the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my entire thirty-four years on this planet. I let my hand cup his cheek and slowly slide down his chest. 

 My phone buzzed and I opened my eyes once more, my driver Crowley had texted that he was waiting outside. 

 "I have to go." 

  And I did, I ran from his home as fast I could. I heard him call out and tell me something about my clothes. I had enough at home, and probably even a spare set in the car. I had nothing on my feet, and nothing but a towel surrounding me, but I was doing the right thing. I was, wasn't I? It was smart to put my work life before my personal one, well what existed of it. 

 I stepped into the car, slamming the door shut and throwing my face into my palms.

 "Your spare set of gym clothes are sitting in the back seat Mr. Novak, another crazy hookup I presume?" 

  "I wish, Mr. Crowley." 

Chapter Text

Waking up without Castiel beside me was a bummer. I didn't understand why he wouldn't stay the night, but then again I did. He was a household name and apparently he couldn't take another scandal. I couldn't grasp why I would be a scandal, maybe sleeping with clients was scandal worthy but I know that it wasn't uncommon for big name CEOS and such to sleep with people who had some type of business with them.

It wasn't so much that I was upset Castiel didn't sleep with me, more upset that everything would be awkward now. What if he didn't even want to help me out anymore? Hell, I tried to seduce the man after he'd told me he couldn't because of his job. He probably thought I was some asshole who couldn't take no for an answer. He fled from my house faster than a racing horse on a track.

"Dean why don't you take a break from obsessing over this man. If he's a decent person he won't hold this against you," Bobby sighed, sliding me a beer.

"You don't understand Bobby, not only did he shoot like a lightning bolt from my house after well, some hand stuff, but Sam beat the living shit out of him," I sighed, sitting my chin in the palm of my hand and using the bar counter as a bottle opener. I took a large frustrated swig from the beer, it wasn't an El Sol but after Castiel left I drank more than enough to give me a headache this morning. There wasn't a drop of El Sol left to say the least.

"Why would that idjit do that?" Bobby scoffed, grabbing a beer for himself, stressed out as well. Bobby and I co-owned the bar together so this didn't just affect me. Sadly I drug him into the whole bar idea, thinking it would jump off without any bumps in the road.

"He thought Castiel was his dad, the guy who screwed us over, and he'd been drinking. Usually, the sap is a sad drunk but whatever pissed him off made him an angry drunk by the time he got to the bar," I laughed, though it wasn't really funny to me. Castiel really had been unfairly treated, and though a bruised eye suited him he didn't deserve it.

"Do you know where he lives? Maybe you could swing by with a couple of beers and his clothes, apologize for sam and last night. Butter him up ya know?" Bobby suggested, running his hand through his ungroomed beard. I nodded, the idea couldn't hurt. It seemed logical but I didn't have a clue as to where he lived, but I knew where he worked. His last name just happened to be plastered up on a skylight building I passed every day. Small town wonders.

"No idea where he lives, but I'll figure something out," I smiled, standing up and walking out to my car. I slid into my old Impala, it had been my dad's but he wasn't missing it, or me, or Sam. Hell he probably didn't miss anyone but my mom. I couldn't give him too hard of a time for it, he never learned how to deal with grief. He was always searching for someone to replace her, it was too bad he didn't realize he still had a part of her with me and Sammy.

I grabbed an aspirin from the glove compartment, choking it down with a swig of my beer. Then I took out my old phone from the glove compartment as well, just a simple flip phone that still had minutes but it would do. Besides, I didn't talk to too many people that I didn't see in person for the majority of my days so I didn't mind using this cheap little Nokia phone. Smartphones weren't ideal for everyone. Sure, I wouldn't mind having one of those smartphones so I could take quality pictures and look at porn when I needed to, but good ol' magazines can cover one of those issues.

I drove my car back to my place, taking a quick trip inside and gathering up Castiel's shit, throwing it into a little duffel bag and then jogging back out to my baby. Man, she was a beaut, I love that damn car. I put the key in the ignition and began to put her into reverse. I knew where Castiel's building was, there was no missing it. It was easy to spot, one of the few trademark buildings in our small town.

It took me no less than ten minutes and I was paying some snobby looking valet boy too much money to park my car. He wouldn't piss off, apparently, it was policy. What a load of crap. I walked into the building, greeted by a wave of artificial smells hitting me in the face. It was pungent, then again I was surrounded by the pungent smell of booze and other alcohol all day long so maybe my smeller was off.

"Excuse me, sir, do you have an appointment here?" Some older man with a crummy beard who didn't look like he belonged here asked, his name tag said Luci and it took everything in me to stifle a chuckle. I don't know what was funny about the name to me but something was considering that holding back a laugh was proving to be devastatingly hard. I could be such a child.

"No I don't, but Castiel left some of his crap back at my house yesterday so I was just coming by to drop it off," I shrugged, looking around the room at all the people sitting in the chairs in the lobby and all the people just scattered around the place. It was insane.

"Well if you don't have an appointment I can't let you into his office, Mr. Novak is a very busy man," Luci the receptionist chuckled, rather rudely. He was a prick, I could tell. Something about him was just off and I didn't care for the guy.

"Oh come on man, what does it hurt for me to just knock on the door and exchange a few words with the guy before handing off his crap," I scoffed, watching a small man with a nicely trimmed beard and close-trimmed hair walk by. He paused for a moment, looking me over and then snapping.

"Ah! Luci, do be a doll and ring Mr. Novak up and tell him that a Dean Winchester is here to see him, I was supposed to tell him earlier but it completely slipped my mind," The man with the thick accent spoke before waving me over, he pulled me in by my bicep and whispered quietly, "I'm Crowley, his driver. I'll walk you up there, I remember him running from your home like a scared little infant boy." He then let out a not so quiet laugh and gestured to Luci to hurry it up with the buzz. He then pressed the elevator button for what I thought said the thirteenth floor but I couldn't quite make it out.

We both stepped into the elevator and once the door closed he looked to me with a smile that ran ear to ear, "So I presume you're the man Mr. Novak couldn't stop talking about. He's rather displeased with how he handled things last night, cold feet I suppose," Crowley chuckled, sitting his driver's hat back on his head and tapping his foot along to the elevator music.

"He was talking about me?" I asked, hiding a smile as I glanced over to Crowley, raising my eyebrows even though I didn't want to seem too happy about the fact he knew he screwed up. Not me, he screwed up. That's practically what Crowley told me.

"Oh yes," He hummed before leaning over, "Even let a few drunken words leave about, and I quote, your, "tight ass and soft lips," isn't that the funniest thing?" Crowley chuckled once more, clearly not seeing how red my cheeks turned. No one had been able to make me blush like that since Lisa. Castiel really did have some tight hold over me. I felt like I was back in high school, trying to get with the jock, well that comparison didn't really work I was the cool bad boy in high school so why would I want to get with the jock? Who cares, shut up Dean.

"I'll walk you to Mr. Novak's office and then we'll part ways Mr. Winchester," Crowley said as the elevator dinged and then opened. We both stepped off and he began to lead me without any moment to spare, he was practically jogging. His short little legs moved with a swift motion. Maybe he had somewhere to be. He then stopped breathlessly in front of a door with Castiel's name on a gold plaque.

"Here we are," He smiled, grabbing his keys and opening the door.

"Mr. Novak, you have a visitor," He called to Castiel who was currently pouring a drink from an almost empty whiskey bottle. Castiel turned to the door, his eyes widening when they met me. Was he mad? Was this a mistake? I mean I was only returning his clothes, I could leave as fast as I came if it was an issue. Or maybe I could just drop the bag at the door and dart back out to my impala like he'd darted back to his limo.

"Dean, nice to see you. I uh- didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon, come in," He gestured, his words were slurred and his eyes foggy. It looked like he had trouble keeping them open. God was he drunk?

I stepped inside, hearing Crowley close the door behind me. I didn't move any closer to Castiel, I felt like I was stuck in a slab of cement.

"Well, you left so fast yesterday that I didn't really get to give you your stuff back. So I thought I'd swing by and drop it off, so yeah, here's uh, your stuff," I stammered, holding out the duffle bag.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that," He said, stumbling over his words and then his feet as he walked over, using his furniture to help him walk over as kids did at the ice skating rinks.

"Don't sweat it, I get it," I nodded, my brows meeting in worry as he really was trying to put one foot in front of the other but ending up looking like a game of Twister.

"I don't want you to think it was anything you did," Castiel paused, having made his way to me.

"Well then, what was it exactly? Did you want me to...to top you? Because that's not really my scene but I mean I could've. I didn't think you were the bottom type seeing as you're this big CEO in control but who the hell ever knows, but I really do like you so if you wanted that you could've told me. I was thinking about it a lot last night and how after I asked if you had a condom you kind of freaked out so I just put two and two together so-"

Castiel laughed so hard I thought he would've burst a lung right then and there, but instead he just waved me off and sat his hand on my shoulder, "W-What? No, no, definitely not," He laughed again, this time a bit softer.

"Trust me, I did not want you to top me, I like being in control. I just couldn't do that, ethically. It would go against the ethics I set out as a businessman, sleeping with my client, and god would that be a scandal," He paused, falling back a bit but using his grip on my shoulder to keep himself steady.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked, walking us back to his bar and moving his hand around until he found a glass. He handed it to me and then laughed once more, "Fuck I've got to fill it first."

"You're drunk why don't you let me fix you some water, just take it easy and let-"

"No! You've got to understand, I've got to drink because if I don't I'll figure out how to work my dick and I'll stick it in you the first chance I get," He yelled, obviously not aware of how loud he was being. For the second time today in ten minutes something Castiel said while drunk made my face redder than a tomato, I could feel the heat bounce off of my blushing cheeks like a hot iron. Even if he was just a blathering drunk idiot, he was a blathering drunk idiot who wanted to fuck me.

He went to sit down in one of his chairs and just completely missed the seat entirely, falling to the floor and having the wind knocked out of him as soon as he made contact with the hardwood. I let out a shocked gasp and so did he, I just sighed and walked over to him, squatting down and looking over Castiel's face.

"Why don't you let me take you home? You're clearly not going to get any work done like this," I asked, holding out my hand for him to grab onto.

"I already told you, Dean," He hummed, singing out my name before continuing, "I can't sleep with you," He finished, pouting, his lips moving into a heavy frown.

I managed to hold back a laugh, though his response was hilariously adorable.

"I meant, take you back to your place, let me take care of you."

Chapter Text

I had been in Castiel's home before, but never past his living room. Fuck this place was huge, I guess that was guaranteed considering it was a penthouse. But moving Castiel's drunken body past his many bathrooms and bedrooms and whatever the hell else rooms he had in here, it set in. Castiel was rich, and he was a big shot and a CEO and he had money to spare. I was almost embarrassed that I had brought him back to my small trashed house I sometimes shared with Sammy. I glanced to the time on my watch, just out of curiosity. It was 8:00 pm, it had been around 7:30 pm when I visited his office earlier. I wondered when he usually got off of work, or if he could just leave whenever he wanted to. Technically I could leave whenever I wanted to, but it wouldn't be smart to leave a bar. I mean, drunks.  

  "This one," Castiel muttered, attempting to raise his hand to point at his bedroom door. 

   "Alrighty," I mumbled, pulling one arm from around his waist. Without the extra support, Castiel began to slip from my grip, so I had to quickly open the door and drag him with all my strength before watching him collapse to the bed. He was a mess. Why was it that drunk people always weighed more than they usually did? It was annoying, I always had to carry the drunks from my bar, and occasionally use my feet to carry my drunk ass to my car. 

  "You know, I didn't think the first time you saw me in bed I'd be drunk," Castiel laughed, coughing as he scratched his neck. I smiled, humoring him. 

   Even drunk he looked damn good. He hadn't shaved in days, he didn't just have stubble, he had scruff. Rough scruff where a beard would surface in a few more days, rough scruff that led down his jaw and to his neck. Rough scruff I'd love to feel against my closely shaven skin, against my neck, my face... Fuck. He spoke no words yet the sheer image of his silence and his scruff had me squirming. It didn't help that his shirt was messily unbuttoned, exposing the midsection of his chest and just the slightest bit of his pec. 

   "Dean," Castiel spoke, snapping me out of my trance. 

   "Yeah, sorry Castiel what is it?" I asked, moving forward and cocking my head to the side. 

    "Come to Daddy," He smirked, propping himself up on his elbows and using every ounce of strength his drunken body could muster up to push himself up into a sitting position. Even as a drunk dumbass he managed to cause a blush that ran from my toes to my nose, warmth bouncing off of my cheeks as they flooded with red. 

    "Castiel, you're drunk," I whispered, trying not to be too loud. He wasn't hung over yet, but maybe I was just looking for a reason to be quiet so he'd keep talking to me like that. 

     He didn't even acknowledge my reasoning, just patted his lap. I knew what he wanted, and he was crazy. It was almost cute. I knew he was drunk and I knew if he was sober that he probably wouldn't have even let me in his office, so I shook my head again. I wasn't going to take advantage of his drunken state, no one should ever take advantage of anyone in a drunken state. I couldn't count how many gross men and women I had to kick out of my bar for attempting to do just that. I could never imagine being like one of those slobs. 

   I watched as he stuck out his bottom lip, wearing a pout before asking, "Can I at least have a kiss then?" 

   I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck and then shrugging, "Sure, why not?" I smiled and then walked over to him, looking down to him and cupping his cheek gently, pressing a quick peck to his lips. I felt his hand grab on to my free one, his lips taking control of the kiss, crashing into mine with such passion that made my body feel heavy and weightless at the same time. He pulled me down, bringing me over top of him but somehow he still managed to have every ounce of power. 

  His hand moved to my right hip, gripping down so tightly on it that a light gasp left my parted lips. Castiel took advantage of that, his tongue running over my lips before entering my mouth. I could taste whatever whiskey he'd been drinking, it tasted cheap but knowing him it was probably expensive. His kiss was so strategic that I felt myself growing dizzy, my insides began to become all mushy and warm like sap. He kissed so good, he tasted so good, he was so good. 

  I felt his hand move down my chest, past my stomach and grabbing on tight to my dick. I practically yelped before pulling away, shaking my head as I tried to grasp onto any composure I had left so I could reason with a drunk man. 

  "Castiel," I breathed, shaking my head. 

  He only smirked in response, his hand moving between my thighs slowly, tightening around my inner thigh, using his hold on me to push me against his bed. He hovered over me, his lips meeting my neck. That scruff against my skin felt so good, so masculine and shit. I was hard. 

  "You seem to like it, baby," Castiel spoke against my red hot skin, the teasing tone of his voice was irresistible. 

 I couldn't be hard because this was wrong. But Castiel's lips moved down my body so skillfully that I almost forgot how terribly wrong this was. 

  "Castiel," I repeated, my hands moving to the sides of his neck and up his jaw, feeling that sexy scruff under my palms and fingertips. I let one of my hands move into his hair, pulling his head up from my skin with a smile, "You don't really want this. When you wake up you'll be happy that I helped you avoid a scandal," I quoted mockingly. 

  Castiel sighed, resting his head in the crook of my neck. I had successfully reasoned with a drunk man. 

  "But," he murmured against my skin, the hand that held my thigh now running up to my chest, not sexually, it was sweet. He was comforting himself. 

   "How about this, if you wake up tomorrow, and you still feel the same as you do right now, I'll let you have me?" I laughed, rubbing his back before propping myself up on my shoulders as he had earlier. I felt his lips tighten into a smile and I was satisfied. I sat back up, laying Castiel onto his back and propping his head onto a pillow with ease. He smiled up at me, a caring smile, not like the devilish smirk he had given me before crashing his lips against mine in the best kiss I'd ever had. Him taking control of me like that, fuck, just thinking about it gave me...inspiration. 

  "I like the way that sounds, "I'll let you have me," makes it sound like you're all mine," Castiel hummed, his smile still sweet, no inappropriate intentions behind it. Even though he wasn't being sly, I felt my cheeks deepen in color the same way they had when he told me to come to him.

 "Think about something else Cas," I chuckled, standing up from the bed and running a hand through my hair, finally feeling the weight of my body come back to me. 

  "Cas," Castiel repeated, my brows furrowing in confusion. Had I called him that? 

  "Sorry, just slipped I guess," I shrugged. He was so drunk he wouldn't even remember I had called him that tomorrow, so I wasn't too embarrassed. 

  "I like it, call me it tomorrow please, and oh, Dean, I'll take a glass of water now," He smiled, referencing the little scene at the office where he had yelled how he couldn't have a glass of water. I nodded, giving him a small smile before leaving his room and making my way back into the kitchen. I wasn't one to snoop, so I scanned the cabinets in his kitchen as quickly as I could. Most shelves were stacked high with booze, mainly whiskey, it caused a frown to come to my lips. I'd help him with that later. 

  I finally stumbled upon the cabinet that contained glasses, they were all so fancy. All glass or different kinds of crystal, mine at home were all plastic, mainly solo cups. 

  I took down a small glass and walked over to his sink. The thought just occurred to me that he probably had bottled water, but I was already at the sink. I filled the glass to just before the rim. He was drunk, he'd spill it if it was full. I then went through his drawers, hoping to find an aspirin or a few tabs of ibuprofen. Luckily, I found both. I grabbed two of the Ibuprofen and made my way back to his room. 

  "Here, drink this and take these," I said as I handed him the glass, hooking my hand under his neck to help him drink. Once he downed the pills I went to his closet, only finding suits. I shook my head disdainfully before walking over to his dresser. I found a pair of black fleece pajama pants and then paired that with a cotton t-shirt. I walked back over to him, my hands moving to his belt and unlooping it. Castiel raised his eyebrows at me, a playful smirk laying on his lips, and I rolled my eyes in return. I unzipped his suit slacks and pulled them off, replacing them with the pajama pants I had pulled off of him.

  I made it a point to not be distracted by his thighs or his amazing hip bones, I swallowed my lust and moved my hands up to his shirt. I unbuttoned the rest of the remaining buttons of his white long sleeve shirt, taking in the site of his bare chest. Again, I swallowed thickly. 

  "Raise your arms," I said softly, slipping the t-shirt over his head and then smiling as he laid back down. 

  "I'm sorry," Castiel said roughly.

"For what?" I asked, tilting my head and shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

  "For being a drunk asshole, I'm still drunk but at least I'm not being an asshole now," He sighed, folding his forearms over his face. 

  "It's okay Castiel," I said with a gentle tone, and I meant it. It really was okay, more than okay. Damn, was it okay. 

  "I'm going to head out Castiel, if you remember I was here call me tomorrow," I told him, beginning to walk out the door before I heard him call for me. 

  "Please stay, and stay here with me," He asked. I turned around watching him rub a hand on the bed beside him. That mushy soft gross but great feeling he had made me feel before resurfaced, everything was warm as I laid beside him. He extended his arm and pulled me into his chest, closing his eyes. I did the same. I was scared about how things would be when he woke up tomorrow when we woke up. But right now I knew things felt great. I pulled the expensive comforter of his bed over the both of us, letting another warm feeling come over me. Sleep was practically stalking me now.  

  "Thank you, Dean."

  "Any time Cas."

  

Chapter Text

I woke up, surrounded in the warmth of Dean's body tangled around mine.

How did this happen?

I closed my eyes, trying to think back to last night. The longer I closed my eyes the less my head pounded, it still pounded but just a smidge less. With every passing second, more and more pieces of last night came back to me. I remembered very little of what happened at my office, but I remembered every kiss I placed on Dean's skin. The only downside was that I had made a complete jackass of myself. I tried to seduce the man whose house I fled from while drunk. Of course, I had to be drunk.

Dean was still sound asleep, his cheek pressed against my chest, his lips slightly parted as they pursed out. He looked so cute. I could wake up to him laying like that every day if it was with me. I shook the thought, he was my client. God, why did he have to be my client? 

My arm that was hooked around his waist was numb, but I didn't mind. I raised my hand, feeling that annoying tingling sensation that everyone felt when their foot or leg or whatever the fuck fell asleep. I hated that feeling, but right now, I didn't really mind it. I let my fingertips graze the nape of his neck, combing through his hair. He smiled in his sleep, so I continued. Yeah, he was my client, but what could a little friendly affection hurt? 

The longer I looked at him the more I realized even though I'd been drunk, I really did want it, I wanted him. I had wanted him the moment I saw him in the bar, watching him chew that pen as he stared at a piece of paper with clear hatred for it. I wanted him when I sat with him at my couch, then at the table, we shared at his bar, and even when his brother punched the hell out of me with only a few words exchanged. I wanted him the night I got him off, when I called him baby and he whimpered, and I wanted him as I ran out of his front door and when I cussed at myself for leaving in my limo. And I wanted him last night when I was a drunk jackass kissing him with my whiskey stained lips and grabbing his dick and then his thighs. I wanted him now. 

I slightly turned to the side, just enough to where I could cup his cheek with my hand, lightly touching his cheekbone with my fingertips. He looked so pretty, I didn't even care that there was a drool spot on my overly expensive black polo sleep shirt. In fact, I loved it. It was evident that I slept with him without sleeping with him, too bad it would dry. It would be gross if it didn't but, okay whatever. I liked Dean. There wasn't any denying it. I liked Dean and his closely shaven face with just a hint of stubble, probably just the way he liked to keep it. Even with the stubble, his face was baby smooth. I liked Dean and his pink lips, green eyes and long eyelashes. I liked his soft skin, his pretty stomach, and his soft hair. I liked Dean, and I had to deal with that. 

His eyes began to flutter open, his hand moving up to his eyes as he yawned rather groggily. So fucking cute. I almost didn't realize how creepy it was that I was just staring at him while I cupped his cheek. I began to move it but he quickly moved his hand on top of mine to keep it in place. So fucking cute. 

"Well good morning," I smiled, not bothered by the intimate setting. 

"Good morning Castiel," Dean yawned, leaning into my touch, I didn't think it was on purpose, just natural for him.

"Castiel? I liked the sound of that nickname you gave me last night. Didn't I ask you to call me it today?" I almost hummed, my eyebrows raising in question. I watched his slightly tan skin turn a light pink. He was embarrassed that I remembered that, I was glad I hadn't forgotten. 

"Good morning Cas," Dean corrected, his cheeks turning red now. 

"Mm, there it is. Good morning Dean," I teased, sitting up slowly though I didn't want to, and apparently neither did Dean considering he let out a grumpy whine that made me laugh. 

"I have to get ready for work," I explained, standing up and running my hand over his arm. I walked into the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush and the almost empty tube of toothpaste. I ran it under the water and then began to brush my teeth, sneaking a glance at Dean every chance I got, watching the sleepy boy fight to stay awake. I thought about offering for him to stay at my home in my bed and to sleep while I was at work, but that would probably rub him the wrong way and weird him out. But god, did I want to come back home to him. 

I rinsed my mouth out, opening my drawer and grabbing my razor. I then grabbed my shaving cream and looked around for my sponge I used to put it on. I always lost that thing. 

"No!" Dean almost yelled, sitting up a bit. I turned my head, arching a confused brow to him in question. Once more, his cheeks turned a cartoonish pink. He swallowed before shyly looking up to me, those green eyes sparkling through his lashes. 

"Um...I like the scruff," he paused, looking back down to his feet before continuing, "it's uh, it's hot." He finished, not looking back up to me, if he had he would've been greeted by a smirk. 

I walked over to him, standing in front of the dirty blonde, my torso eye level with him, "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you. Speak up for me." 

"Oh shut up," Dean muttered, crossing his arms across his chest, scoffing. I liked embarrassing him like this, teasing him. 

My hand moved to his chin, lifting it up and making him look at me, "Speak up for me," I said sternly. 

"I like the scruff, it's hot," He repeated, biting his bottom lip and batting those long eyelashes up at me. Fuck. 

I leaned down without thinking, pressing my lips against his. I felt him smile under the kiss, he wanted this. So I continued, moving onto the bed with him, feeling his hands run up my back. I moved my lips to his neck, the way I had last night. But this time I had a plan. I lightly nipped at the skin of his neck, hearing him yelp in response. Pleased with that, I ran my tongue over the wounded skin, feeling him shiver under me. I ran my hand down his chest, finding the hem of his shirt and moving my lips from his skin, pulling off his shirt and looking to him before instructing him to take off his pants. That blush I loved so much came back to his cheeks, but he obeyed. I let my fingertips teasingly dance down his stomach, hooking under the waistline of his boxers. I attached my lips to his once more. my tongue fighting for dominance but he gave an easy fight. He wanted me in control. My hand found its way around his dick, slowly jerking him. He whined, his head falling back against my pillow but not breaking the kiss. He needed me so bad and it was so easy to see. 

I trailed my lips down to his jaw, licking up the structure of it before clinging to the skin of his collarbone. That was clearly something he liked considering at the mere contact he fucked into my hand. I smirked against his skin before sucking in and biting gently, starting easy with him. Moans began to slip past his lips, he was getting needy. I felt precome under my thumb and I came up from his skin, grabbing his face with my free hand, forcing him to look at me, "Tell me when you're about to cum," I said with a stern tone, looking into his eyes so deeply that I swore he lost consciousness for a moment. He nodded, biting down on his bottom lip once more. I watched his lip become irritated, plumping from how hard he was biting down. He was so fucking desperate for this, turned on. It gave my ego such a boost, shooting straight to my dick. 

I began to jerk him off faster, gripping onto his neck as he bucked into my hand around his cock. I began to kiss him again, the way I had last night. He loved it, he fell limp in my grasp before suddenly he tensed up, "I, I'm gonna cum Cas," He warned me, and just like that I quickly took my hand from around his dick and pulled away from his lips. His eyes darted to me, his lips moving into a pitiful pout as I watched confusion wash over his expression. 

"Well that's just too bad then, isn't it? Because it seems like I've got to go to work," I smiled, standing up and pulling out a suit from my closet, quickly throwing it on. I had gotten insanely fast at it, considering I did this every day. I looked back to him as he propped himself up by his elbows, shaking his head no. 

"But-"

"But nothing, I suppose you'll just have to take care of that yourself, hm?" I continued as I grabbed a pair of socks and shoes, sitting on the ottoman in front of my bed. 

"But Cas," He whined, only making me happy of course.

"Didn't I say to take care of it yourself, you're a big boy, you know how. Oh and Dean, while you're at it, why don't you grab that spare phone in the nightstand drawer and prove to me you were a good boy and did what I said while I was gone," I said casually, standing up and walking to my dresser, opening the drawer full with precisely folded ties in ways they wouldn't wrinkle.

"Do it...here?" he asked, confused as could be. Poor little thing. 

"Yes Dean, stay here. I'd love to see you when I get home," and with that, I left my bedroom and then my home without another word exchanged between the two of us. I walked downstairs, happy to see Crowley was already here to bring me to work. I stepped into the car, pleased with myself, wearing a stupid grin but I didn't care. 

"You look in high spirits Mr. Novak, would it happen to be that you have a suitor upstairs?" Crowley assumed, and I chuckled, nodding as he arched a brow in my direction.

"Good, I was hoping you and the barkeep would patch things up. Seems like you've done so with great accomplishment," Crowley grinned, but that grin was soon replaced with a frown. 

"What?" I asked, tilting my head. When Crowley frowned it was always for a good reason. I knew whatever he had to say would either piss me off, make me sad, or confuse the hell out of me.

"I hate to ruin your good mood Mr. Novak, but Mr. Bartholomew...he's at your office. He insisted on seeing you." 

Well fuck. 

What Crowley said managed to do all three things.

Today would be a different type of day at the office, considering my Bartholomew came into town, specifically into my place of work, even more specifically, my office.

Again, well fuck.

Chapter Text

When Crowley pulled into the parking lot of Novak enterprises, I felt my chest tighten. Sweat began to surface at the sides of my brow at the thought of having to see Bartholomew. Every part of me wanted to tell him to turn back around, to drop me back off at my home where I can work out any frustration I had with Dean and then sleep the day away with him. 

How many sick days had I taken this year so far? I wondered how many I had left. It would be worth it to use another if it meant I didn't have to see Bartholomew. I hated him, he betrayed me and his apologies were just lathered in shit. There was only one other person I hated as much as him, and the thought of her made my stomach turn. I shook my head, allowing myself to sink into the seat and pray for Bartholomew to leave. 

Nothing was easing the tension in my body. I knew I had to leave this car and go into work and then my office and face him. But I didn't want to. Thinking about it made my body heavy in the worst way, my heart sinking and squeezing until I felt as if it were going to leap from my body and leave me dead.

"Are you okay sir?" Crowley asked, probably noticing how unnerved I was. I simply shook my head in response. I couldn't push any words from my throat, it too was tight. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his comforting hand on my knee, "If you'd like, I can accompany you to your office and escort him from it," Crowley offered. While the offer sounded great, I knew Bartholomew must have some important reason to speak to me if he insisted on seeing me in my office, in private. 

"That sounds fantastic, but there's got to be some reason he needs to see me. If he pushes me too far, I'll text or call for you," I sighed, breathing in deeply and then opening my car, watching Crowley give me a pitied smile. I returned his smile with a closed-mouthed smile of my own before making my way into the lobby. I glanced around, making sure Bartholomew wasn't here. Sadly, he wasn't. I was hoping he had left my office, maybe he might have earlier. I would only know by entering my office. 

I walked to the elevator, waiting for it to open. I entered the small space of the elevator, barely being able to lift the weight of my nervous finger to press the button for my floor. I tapped my foot nervously to the floor, waiting for the elevator to rise and open on my floor. I didn't want it to, I wanted the elevator to stop working and drop to the depths of the building, maybe even knock me out for a few days where I could avoid speaking to him. But no, of course, it opened. 

The weight of my feet was so much more apparent walking down the hall to my office than it ever had been before. Finally, my eyes met my office door and I opened it, not looking up. I didn't want to see if it was true, if he really was here.  

"Hello brother," Bartholomew spoke in that voice that I despised, the voice that he put on when he wanted to sound cocky to intimidate me or something along the line. It was so annoying, he sounded like a fool. A complete fool.

"Hello Bartholomew, what are you doing here?" I asked, my eyes still glued to my feet.

"Don't you mean we?" A familiar female voiced asked in that same condescending voice that Bartholomew had put on. I knew that voice, I once loved that voice. I now hated that voice. I looked up with hesitation, my eyes meeting the face of my ex-wife, April Kelly. I swallowed thickly, pinching the bridge of my nose as I shook my head. Why was she here? Hadn't she done enough to me?

"What the fuck are you doing here April?" I asked, walking past her to the bar in my office, grabbing a glass and filling it with whiskey to the rim.

"Still drinking Castiel, didn't you learn your lesson from the scandal?" She hummed mockingly, causing me to grow so angry that I had to hold myself back from throwing the very drink I held to my lips into her face.

"The scandal that you fabricated to make yourself look good to the public eye and earn more money from our divorce settlement? The scandal that you conjured in your witch pot with your little monkeys on your shoulders to rub my name through the mud and tarnish my reputation instead of coming clean about how much of a disgusting person you are? Is that the one you're referencing?" I spat, chugging down my whiskey, holding it down as it burned through my throat. 

"Castiel lets be civil, April and I...well we've got something to ask you," Bartholomew began, standing up from my desk that he had been sitting on like the disrespectful jackass he was. 

"Out with it," I spat, still angry, I felt my blood begin to heat up.

"Castiel, I'd like for you and me to try things again, I miss you. I miss us," April said with a soft expression, I didn't buy it for a minute. I laughed in response, pouring myself another drink because this was all too much. 

"You can't be serious, I would never, ever consider being romantic with you again, what's your game here?" I grumbled roughly, growing agitated. I wanted them to leave, god I hated both of them.

"There's no end game," She whispered as she walked over to me, running her hands over my shoulders. It made me fucking squirm and not in the way that I squirmed looking at Dean, I felt sick. "I want us again."

"Get the fuck off of me, I don't know how dumb you think I am, but you're currently sitting in the room with my brother, the man you had an affair with, asking me to get back with you. As I said, I'd never, not in a million years, consider that," I practically growled, pushing her off of me, being careful not to shove her. Knowing her, she'd make a scene and say I hit her. 

"Fine Castiel, we just, we need you to at least pretend that you two are back together. Everyone is catching on to April and me, and it's not good it's-" 

"Its bad press," I finished for him, turning around to face the two of them. The idea of both of them getting exposed for the disgusting monsters they were made me grin.

"Exactly, so if you could just-"

"I'm sorry but I can't help you better your image, I'm dating someone," I said, crossing my arms after I sat my glass down on my desk.

"You're dating someone?" April questioned as if she didn't believe me. Technically, well...truthfully I wasn't dating anyone. But I liked Dean, this morning I realized I wanted to pursue him and only him. I liked his smile and his pink plump lips. I liked his thighs, and the way he reacted to me touching them. I liked the way he looked when he slept, and I liked his effortlessly beautiful hair. I liked the freckles that scattered his lightly tanned skin, and his nose and, and I just liked him. She didn't have to know that he and I had only met a few days ago and that we weren't dating, I just had to make her think that we were. 

"Yeah I am, jerked him off this morning if you must know," I shortly replied, my annoyed attitude apparent. 

"Him?" She emphasized, arching a brow. 

"Yes, him, I'm bisexual April. If you had ever paid attention to anything in our marriage other than your greed and want for fame, and well my brother, maybe you would know things about me," I said as I glared my eyes on her. 

"And before you think that you can do anything with that information, try and come up with some story to save your image, you cant. I've been out since I was 12 darling, the press already wrote articles on it, amending me for my "bravery," so to say the least Ms. Kelly, you're out of luck," I smiled, watching her body tense up with the realization that she had lost. 

"Castiel please, consider the fact that we're brothers," Bartholomew pleaded, causing me to ket out a loud obnoxious laugh.

"You can't be serious. Did you consider the fact we were brothers when you slept with my wife of 15 years for the last three years of our marriage?" I asked, watching the guilt of his sin wash over his face. I didn't even know he was capable of being guilty. 

"Castiel think about how long we've known each other-"

"Get the fuck out," I cut her off, walking to my desk and dialing Crowley's number.

"What?" April asked, shocked I had spoken to her in such a way. I had never before, sure I'd cussed at her but never so aggressively, I couldn't seem to care.

"You heard me. Yes hi, Crowley please escort Mr. Bartholomew and Ms. Kelly from my office, they've overstayed their welcome," and with that I hung up the phone and stood in front of both of them, my hands now behind my back as I looked to them with such calm intent as I spoke, "It sucks to have your name along with your reputation drug through the mud, doesn't it? I hope this breaks you and shatters every false persona you have both put on. I hope you both meet your downfall and are exposed for the shitty people you are and don't you ever dare step foot onto my place of business again. You will fucking regret it."

The three of us stood there in silence, staring at each other for a few moments until Crowley grabbed both of them by the forearm and walked them out of my office. I felt pleased with myself, I had scared them speechless. 

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, the notification was from Dean, on my home cellphone. I smiled, unlocking my screen and what I saw made my breath hitch. I sat down at my desk, analyzing the photo and taking in its glory. The photo started at dean's cupid bow, I could tell he had been biting his lips because they were all red and inflamed. I continued to move my eyes down the photo. I looked over his neck, seeing the splotches of red where I had nipped at his tender skin, I remember the yelps he let leave his mouth, I loved the sound of them. My eyes then found the blossomed bruise on his collarbone from where I had placed that love bit this morning. I remembered the moans he passed so fondly. I continued moving down the photo, looking at his bare chest, and then his soft stomach. I allowed myself to look at those beautiful thighs I love to grab, I wish my hands were laying on them now. Finally, I moved my eyes to the prize of the picture, his red swollen cum covered cock. He had done as I asked him to.

I changed the name of the phone to, "DEAN WINCHESTER," considering I was looking at a picture of his penis. 

My phone buzzed again, another text from Dean.

DEAN WINCHESTER: Did I do good for you?

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: You did so good for me, such a good boy for me. 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Be careful Castiel, you just might work me up again.

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: Is it that easy to work you up Dean?

DEAN WINCHESTER: So easy. 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK:  Dean, please be at my home when I get back home from work, I want to see you again. 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Are you sure?

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: I'm positive, I need to see you. 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Are you okay Cas?

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: Very rough day at work, would love to be able to come back to you. You'll make me feel better, just by seeing you.

DEAN WINCHESTER: I'll be here, waiting to make you feel good. 

His message came across a lot dirtier than intended, but I didn't mind, both ways I could interpret the text pleased me. 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

The longer Castiel and I texted, the quicker the time passed. He was working me up over the phone, he was so hot. I didn’t understand how someone could express that much power in a few words on a text bubble, but he did. It gave me that squishy warm feeling inside I had this morning and the other night. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends about him. I don’t know what I would tell them, but I’d tell them something.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: When do you get off of work?

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: I get off of work around 7 tonight, why? Do you miss me?

 

I could hear the teasing tone in his voice even though I was reading what he had to say. It was the same teasing tone he had when he told me to speak up this morning. I hated it, but I loved it so much.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Isn’t that obvious?

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: Aw, how cute.

 

Again, there the tone was.

It made me want to feel his hand around my cock again, but he had stupid work and I had to be here all alone...without his hand.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Shut up

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: :)

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Just for that, u can spend the rest of the day talking to ur other clients

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: Oh, so that’s how you’re going to be?

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Yup!

 

I heard the phone buzz in my hand, but I didn’t look. I wanted to tease and annoy him in the best possible way just as he had done to me so many times.

 

For the first time since Cas left, I didn’t have anything to do. I wasn’t texting him, or...well, yeah. Should I change his sheets and his comforter? I normally did after I finished...that at home. But I hadn’t gotten anything on them surprisingly.

 

I could at least make his bed. I stood up, walking to his vanity and changing out of my jeans, trading them for a pair of his pajama pants. I didn’t think he would mind, and if he did, well I was screwed.

 

I kept the same shirt on, not wanting to push too many boundaries. I liked my shirt anyways, it was just a flannel but it was soft. I then made my way back to his bed, pulling back the sheets and the comforter, feeling the soft fabrics under my hands. I wondered how much the set cost, it felt like heaven.

 

His bed was so big, I had to move around a lot just to pull the sheets back in place. I didn’t mind though, I remembered how great that big bed felt, even though I’d mostly laid on Cas all night long. He felt better than the bed.

 

I fluffed his pillows and then looked over what I had done, making sure the comforter was in place and everything looked nice. It did, I was impressed by myself. I made his bed better than I did my own, and my bed wasn’t even half of the size his was.

 

I checked the phone he’d left me with, not opening the text, I didn’t want to know what he had just said, but I was so tempted to talk to him. Not even ten minutes after I had put down the phone did I start missing him. I wished he was here so bad.

 

I brought the phone with me to the bathroom, looking at his huge shower, barely being able to keep my jaw off the ground.

 

I gave into temptation and opened his message.

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK:  I wouldn’t recommend that you might regret it when I get back home, Dean.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Oh really, is that a threat?

 

Cas didn’t answer right away the way he did before, maybe he was giving me a taste of my own medicine or maybe my absence gave him the chance to do some work.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER:  Cas, would you mind if I used your shower?

 

I was almost embarrassed for asking, but I hadn’t had a shower since before I saw Cas yesterday in his office and I reeked of his whiskey and all the other drinks I served at my bar prior.

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: I wouldn’t say a threat, more of a promise, and yes of course. You don’t have to ask.

 

I smiled before clicking off the phone and unbuttoning my shirt and tossing it to the bathroom counter before pulling of the pajamas I had borrowed of his, folding them nicely and walking back out to his bedroom, putting them on the bed. I then walked into the bathroom, closing the door after myself and pulling off my boxers.

I turned back on the phone, scrolling through the different screens until I found a music app. I went to the search slide of Spotify, typing “Classic rock,” and watching the many public playlists pop up. I could’ve gone to his personal library on the app, but I didn’t want to be snoopy. Was that snoopy? I couldn’t say for sure but I didn’t care to find out. I pressed shuffle on the playlist and then cut on the shower water, stepping in.

 

Unlike my shower back at home, the water didn’t take half of the duration of the shower to heat up. Look at me, using big words. No, this water boiled up as I stepped in the shower. It felt so damn good, I could live in this shower. I didn’t even care if I pruned up like a raisin if it always felt this good, I could shrivel up for all I cared.

 

I looked to the shampoo rack, surprisingly it wasn’t stocked up with tons of shit, but what he had looked good to me. He didn’t have a 2 in 1 shampoo, that's pretty much what I used exclusively. So now, I had to use a conditioner then shampoo. I grabbed the conditioner off of the rack, looking at the bottle and the fancy brand name I didn’t know how to pronounce before clicking off the cap and squirting a glob into my hand.

 

I ran my hand through my hair, scrubbing deep and rough and letting the silk smooth substance sink into my scalp. It felt so nice, better than my 2 in 1. I did that for a while until all the conditioner was rinsed out. I didn’t want Cas to come back to a greasy headed Dean. I then picked up a shampoo bottle, examine it just the way I had with the conditioner and repeating the process.

 

He had body wash and soap, and a razor but I wouldn’t need that, I’d already perfected my landing strip. I had a good laugh at that before looking back to the body wash and the soap, my eyes darted back and forth between the two. He had both so I decided I would just use both. I started with the soap, running it over the parts of my body that were fine to touch the soap with. I didn’t want him to use a bar of soap that ran up my asscrack, so I just used it on places that were usually exposed. Then I grabbed the bottle of body wash, squeezing out a good bit of it and running my hands over my body, dipping between every place, and specific places I needed to clean in case I got lucky when he came back.

 

I stood under the water for a few more minutes until all the soap suds were gone, and then I cut off the water, cold air washing over my wet skin, making me shiver. I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist and moving back to the phone. I lifted the phone up, pausing the music and going to Cas’ conversation on the iMessage app. I opened the camera icon, snapping a quick picture of myself, making sure the start of my pelvis was exposed, along with my hips. I didn’t flash a smile in the photo, but I still looked sweet. It was annoying, I wanted to look sexy and smolderly (was that a word? No? Well that's what I wanted to look like), the way he had looked when he was hovering over me. I tried a few more times before huffing and deciding to send it anyway, maybe the sweet face would still do something for him.

 

I walked out to the bedroom, pulling on the pajama pants I had picked out before. They felt so good on my freshly cleaned skin. Where did he buy his clothes from? Angels?

 

I heard the buzz of the phone from the bathroom counter and jogged into the bathroom, picking it up and sliding open the notification.

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: Fuck, Dean.

 

I smiled to myself, it had worked! My sweet stupid non-smolder face had worked on him.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: What, you don’t like it?

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: Don’t play dumb, I love it. Too bad I can’t do something about how much I love it right now.

 

I swallowed, how was that so hot? So fucking hot.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Be careful, you know I’m easy to work up

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: Or maybe you’re just desperate for me.

 

Castiel was working me so easily, it was almost too much. I couldn’t even think of a response, maybe that was my response.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Cas, I can’t even think of a reply that was so hot.

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK:  Doing such a good job of boosting my ego, baby.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Sometimes you just leave me speechless.

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: That’s too bad, I love when you’re loud for me.

 

Fuck, my stupid dick responded to that for me. But I’d just showered. I had to wait this off, I couldn’t move back into the bed I had just made and take care of this. But damn, if he could just get off of work and come home now, I’d be happy.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: I’m putting the phone down again, can’t keep you so distracted.

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: mhm, I’m sure that’s why.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Shut up

 

CASTIEL NOVAK WORK: :)

 

I turned the phone off again, tossing it to the bed before moving from his bedroom. I had stayed in there for hours, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me checking out the rest of his home. Not like he would know anyways.

 

I walked into the living room, looking to the comfortable couch where I’d sat with Cas so nervously. I then made my way into the neighboring room, a game room of sorts maybe? No, it didn’t look like that. Or did it? I couldn’t tell, I could just tell there was an XBOX and a PS4 sitting on the tv stand. There was also a sound system through the walls. Man, he was rich.

 

This room was so dark, but it had those LED colored lights that made a room more ominous. I’d keep this room in mind for...later things.

 

I left the room, feeling a bit more tired than I had before I entered it. I shook myself, making that stupid sound that people did when they tried to wake themselves up. It worked!

 

I made my way into his kitchen, figuring it might be nice for him to come back to a freshly cooked meal. I don’t know why but I wanted to do sweet things for him and make him smile, and make him happy and do things besides sucking his dick. Ew, gross, no. No. Feelings. Bad.

 

I closed my eyes, thinking about how Cas had obsessed over the fact I was his client enough to not sleep with me. He wouldn’t want to date me.

 

I never got ahead of myself like this, usually, I was the one that took time to open up enough to even consider being in a relationship. But with Cas, something made me soft. I wasn’t sure if I hated that or not.

 

I opened his fridge, looking for anything I could turn into dinner. I knew how to cook chicken well, and luckily he had a chicken breast still in the package

. I grinned wide before looking around his kitchen, usually, I grilled mine on a grill outside with charcoal and the whole shabang, but that didn’t look like it was happening here. So, I grabbed a pan out from one of his cabinets and set it on the stove. I’d seen my father cook stir fry chicken before, how hard could it be?

 

I scavenged through his pantry and cuppirds until I had every seasoning and every ingredient I remembered my dad using, and then started up the stove.

 

It took about ten minutes for me to see how hard it was, and then another twenty and then another thirty. Cas would be home soon and I was running out of time. He got off at 7 and five thirty was approaching.

 

I just had to concentrate, no thinking about Cas. No thinking about Cas and his pretty, sexy hands and that scruff that made me go crazy. Damnit. I already failed. I shook the thought of him away again, focusing on the chicken. It looked good so far, it was closed to being done. I was surprised I remembered the ingredients, but I wasn’t going to analyze why I did. I just knew it looked good, and I hope it tasted at least half as good as it looked.

 

I took another look at the clock, it was 6:30. I felt a shrill of excitement shoot through my body. He would be home soon and he’d eat my chicken and kiss me, maybe.

 

I grabbed two plates from his cuppourd, plating the chicken and then sitting it on the counter. I wasn’t sure what he liked to drink other than whiskey, but I didn’t want him drinking. So, I walked to his refrigerator and scanned my eyes through the options. Fancy bottled water, no doubt purified and from some creek like that Fujia stuff but probably more expensive. I kept looking, seeing some sodas, regular name brand ones that I was familiar with. It made me feel a little better, he was rich but still a friend to cheap sodas. He’d like my refrigerator stock then.

 

I heard the door unlock, and my eyes darted to it. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. The door opened, without a creek and it was Cas!

 

“Hey! You’re home early,” I smiled, closing his fridge, not being able to wipe off the giddy stupid smile on my lips. He probably thought I looked or was so stupid.

 

“I am, I wanted to get out of there. What smells so good?” Cas asked, but I focused on the first part of his sentence. He was sad, or something, I could tell. Something was off.

 

“You said you weren’t having a great day at the office, or something like that, so I figured I’d make you some dinner to come back to,” I shrugged, realizing how stupid it sounded when I said it aloud. Out of nervous habit, a pink blush came to my cheeks, they were hot so I knew that they’d changed their color. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to seem calm and not like I was embarrassed of making him dinner.

 

“You did?” He paused, my insides tightening up as he walked over to me. But that all went away when his hands cupped my cheeks and his lips met mine. It was a sweet kiss, not like the one that made me dizzy. I liked this one too, it made me feel all warm and sappy inside.

 

“Mhm,” I hummed against his lips, my cheeks pink for a different reason now. He pulled away, a gentle smile on his lips.

“Thank you, so much,” he said as he sat down on his counter stool in front of the chicken I made.

 

“Hey Dean, could you grab me a soda from the fridge if you don’t mind? Maybe a Dr. pepper?”

He asked, picking up the fork I’d set on the plate when I’d plated the chicken.

 

“Sure thing,” I smiled, walking back to the refrigerator and grabbing him one from the box of cans. I brought it over to him, our fingertips brushing when he took the can from me.

 

“I’m sorry if it tastes bad, the chicken, I haven’t cooked for anyone but Sammy in a long time,” I laughed, standing on the opposite side of the counter in front of him.

 

“Then again, I almost exclusively cooked him spaghettios and lucky charms as a kid,” I chuckled, remembering all the times dad was out doing whatever the hell he was leaving me to take care of Sammy. In a way, I was happy he did that, Sammy and I were so close now. It worked out for the best.

 

“Sounds like you took care of your brother? Am I wrong?” Cas asked, taking a bite of the chicken, my body feeling that tightening once more, worried that he might spit it out on site. But he didn’t, he took another bite, he liked it. Well look at that, I’m a chef.

 

“Yeah I did, my dad wasn’t there much so I kind of took that on, his role or whatever,” I shrugged, I hadn’t really thought about that in depth in a long time.

 

“I’m sorry Dean,” Cas said with that pity filled voice that I’d heard so many times. I just waved him off, I wasn’t sorry it happened.

 

“It’s okay, really. I’m kind of glad my dad was like that, gave me and Sammy a chance to be as close as we are now. Sure it would’ve been nice to have a conventional family, but things don’t always work out the way you plan them,” I smiled, sitting my arms on the counter.

 

“But, What was wrong with work, Cas?” I asked, tilting my head.

 

“My ex wife and my brother decided to make an uninvited appearance in my office today, I still don’t know how I managed not to cause a scene,” he sighed, stress moving into his brows again as he looked down to the plate of chicken. I frowned, I knew I didn’t understand the situation, but I understood that he wasn’t happy, and I didn’t like that.

 

I moved behind him, my hands moving onto his shoulder and attempting to massage out some tension.

 

“Well fuck the both of them Cas, I don’t know what they did but clearly they did something real bad. So just screw them, they’re a couple of jackasses anyways,” I said, trying to lighten the mood and I succeeded, he laughed and nodded.

 

“Boy, do I have a story to tell you,” he chuckled, taking another bite of the chicken before looking up to me, “Still a little mad at you for not letting me know you could cook before now.”

Chapter Text

Cas had insisted on me eating with him, not wanting me to go hungry. It was sweet, and I didn’t argue on it with him. I was hungry, and if my chicken stirfry was as good as Cas was making it out to be I definitely wanted to try some.

 

He had brought my plate and the second serving he fixed himself back to the counter, sitting down my plate next to his own before walking to the fridge and grabbing me a soda. I didn’t care what flavor, so he picked at random. It was a Pepsi, and I was fine with it.

 

“I was worried about you when we were texting earlier, you seemed sad,” I said to Cas, looking up from my plate. He wore a small smile, shrugging his shoulders, I watched his eyes move from his plate up to me.

 

“Honestly, I was a little sad. As I said, my brother and my ex-wife came by today. Usually, I’d be mad, and I was that too, but seeing my brother and realizing we just don’t have a chance at a close relationship again made me sad,” He admitted, wearing one of those smiles where he hid his lips. It was one of those sad smiles you gave when you were down but you didn’t want someone to feel bad or some shit like that. But I did feel bad, I was close with Sammy.

 

“I wish I could say I understand but that’d be a lie. I’m really close with Sam, and I’m sorry you don’t get to have that with your brother,” I frowned.

 

“I’m glad you don’t understand, Dean,” he smiled, but it didn’t make me feel any better, he was sad and I didn’t think there was anything I could do.

 

“What did he do, anyway? If you want to tell me, don’t think you have to or anything,” I asked, regretting as soon as I did because this was obviously a sensitive subject and Cas and I aren’t close, I didn’t know him. Why would he want to start getting close with telling me this? Sometimes I wish I’d just shut up.

 

“I probably should tell you, because you’re involved now. But I’ll get to that,” he paused, and I was already confused. How was I involved?

 

“I’d been with my wife for about 15 years, we were together throughout high school and I thought I knew her you know? You always think you know someone, you rarely do. Anyways, after we got married she started to change. My dad is a big name, and that means I am too. It started getting to her, she always needed more and needed publicity and she fucking loved those paparazzi cameras whenever my dad did something wrong. She made a name for herself outside of me, and I was fine with that until she was always gone,” he continued, pausing to take another bite of his food, and then take a sip of his soda. While he did that, I thought about how I was literally in the home of someone with more fame to their name than I would ever have. I wondered if people would make fun of him for being around someone like me.

 

“Her always being gone and coming home late, it scared me. I didn’t trust her anymore, she was like, this whole new person. It felt like I’d never met her before, and I wasn’t jealous or anything like that, it was the fact she was always hiding shit from me. She was sneaky and still is,” he grimaced. I could tell he really had been hurt by her, and that’s something I did understand.

 

“But that ended up getting worse, and she was always with my damn brother all the time. He was her manager or some shit, but that wasn’t what was going on. The last three years before our divorce, she’d been sleeping with him. Not just that, but they were romantic in the way she and I used to be,” he sighed, looking to me as if he had something to be embarrassed about.

 

“That’s so fucking nasty Cas, if I could I’d go back in time and kick your brother’s ass,” I told him, taking a bite and chewing. He laughed, and I noticed something I hadn’t before. When he laughed, his nose scrunched up. It was so fucking cute. But cute in the way where it made me want to leap across the table and rip his clothes off.

 

“And you know what they had the nerve to ask of me today? To fucking pretend to be with April, my ex-wife, so they wouldn’t get exposed for being together,” he laughed, shaking his head as he looked back down to his plate.

 

“Are you serious? You’re shitting me. What did you say?” I asked, I didn’t even know the two of them or the nature of their relationship but I was in complete disbelief.

 

“I told them I was dating someone,” he answered, shrugging. I felt my heart sink. He was dating someone? And I’d let him touch me and-

 

“Well, you. I didn’t directly say I was dating you but I was talking about you,” he explained, and I felt my heart rise back to its proper place. We were dating?

 

“I know we aren’t or anything, we’ve only known each other for about a week now but,” he paused, his own cheeks becoming pink like mine had earlier. Not dating, hmph. 

 

“I like you, and I don’t really plan to go and look for someone else to spend my time with,” he finished, nervously fixing the collar of his jacket. Not dating, but would be in the future, he had just guaranteed that right in front of me. I grinned real wide before walking over to him, squeezing between the table and his chair and plopping into his lap. My arms found their way looped around his neck, not ashamed of my big goofy grin.

 

“Good. Because when you said you were dating someone I got a little jealous,” I admitted, feeling his hands move down my sides. I didn't care to let him know that, it was the truth and he liked me so I could tell him things like this and not be scared. He seemed to like it though, his touches grew more tender. 

 

“I hate being jealous, so don’t ever make me that way. But it sure does look cute on you,” he smiled, his thumbs moving up my shirt, rubbing my skin.

 

“Shut up,” I huffed. I always found myself saying that to him when he made me flustered or made me feel even the slightest bit embarrassed. 

 

“Did you hear me, Dean? Don’t make me jealous,” he repeated. Worry wedged between the wrinkles in his forehead.

 

I nodded, reminding myself to never make Cas jealous. An urgent reminder to Dean Winchester: Never, ever, Never, make Castiel Novak jealous!

 

“I know it’s weird to say, but I hated the way I felt when I found out about April and Bartholomew, I don’t want to ever feel that way again,” he explained, and I nodded once more, my hands moving onto his shoulders. 

 

“I understand Cas, I promise I’ll try my best to never make you jealous,” I smiled, my hands moving up his neck and under his jaw. I really did understand. What Cas had told me tonight was terrible and sad and gave him every reason not to ever want to feel that way again, and I hoped I never did. I leaned in, pressing my lips against his just for a moment, a sweet kiss, not too much firepower behind it, just something to give him a smile.

 

“Did the dinner make you feel better?”  I asked, pulling away.

 

“It did, you really made me feel better,” he nodded, his hands tightening on my sides, that warm feeling I felt coming back.

 

“I’m so happy to hear that, did my pictures help at work too?” I teased, wearing a smile.

 

“You don’t know what those photos did to me,” he roughly said, his eyes on me, his blue eyes deep in their color.

 

“Aw, did they make you all frustrated? Mad you couldn’t do something about it?” I paused, leaning in next to his ear, “mad you couldn’t do something to me about it.”

 

Deans grip around my hips turned to a grip around my body, he stood up quickly, making me laugh a stupid giddy laugh that I still, couldn’t Ana age to be ashamed of. He liked it though, I could tell because he smiled and it wasn’t just that cocky one he liked to do when he teased me. It was a natural smile, and my insides turned to butterfly mush.

 

He carried me into his bedroom, throwing me into the bed I’d made hours ago.

 

“You made my bed?” He smiled.

 

“And wore your pants,” I added, grinning as I hooked my fingers under the waistband, popping it against my skin.

 

“That’s actually so cute,” he replied before moving in between my legs, his hand running up my shirt over my chest before yanking it off of me, his lips meeting the skin of my chest.

 

“Really? Good, I thought you might get mad about it,” I whispered, his hands stopping what they were doing to look up at me.

 

“Dean, I told you to make yourself cum in my bed, I wouldn’t be mad about some pajama pants being borrowed,” He smiled, his hand moving down my waist. He was being teasingly slow, torturing me. His fingers slid down my thighs, moving between them, I wish I could feel his fingers on the bare skin of my thighs. I was getting impatient.

“Take the pants off,” I breathed, looking down to him only to see him smile in the way he’d done the other night. That smile that let me know he had a plan.

 

“Dean, didn’t I tell you that you’d regret it when you told me I could talk to my other clients?” He hummed, his head moving up and hovering over mine. He cocked it, arching his brow, waiting for my reply.

 

“You did,” I responded, “But,” I pouted hoping it was a loose threat.

 

“But nothing,” he finished my sentence, his hand sliding down the pants and under my boxers, wrapping around my dick too tightly, making me whine loud. It hurt, but that was the point.

 

I felt his finger run across my tip, making me shudder. I bit down on my lip, bucking my hips up into his hand but it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. His free hand grabbed me by the face, his fingertips pressing into my cheeks.

 

“Be patient,” he growled lowly, looking into my eyes with those now deep blue irises.

 

“Mm, yes sir,” I moaned, biting my bottom lip as I felt his hand work faster around me, still too tight that it made me whimper, but I liked it. I felt my pants, well his, be pulled off quickly, not sparing my underwear. The cold air washed over my now naked body, making me shiver. I felt his hand in my hair, pulling my head up by the close grip.

 

“Turn around,” he demanded, and I did as he said. Good thing I used that body wash. I felt his hand run down my back and over my ass, the cold that brushed over me left the spots where he touched me.

 

“You know, it wasn’t a good an idea for you to play dirty like that Dean,” he began, his hand resting on my ass, holding tightly,

 

“I wasn’t a good boy for you?” I asked, looking back at him playfully, but met with a cold harsh face that meant business.

 

“No, you weren’t. I think that grants a punishment, don’t you?” He questioned, though he was sure of himself. I felt his hand slam against my ass, making my jerk forward and let out an embarrassingly loud help. Fire ran through my body, heat radiating off of the freshly slapped skin.

 

Cas leaned forward, his lips next to my ear, “Is that okay for you, comfortable with that?” He whispered, clearly asking me if I was okay with being spanked.

 

“Perfectly comfortable,” I answered. I’d never explored my kinks, but I was well aware of the fact I loved to be spanked, loved to be hurt in the best possible ways.

 

“Good,” he said as he nipped at my ear with his teeth, his hand moving back down my skin until he found my ass again, just the touch of his fingers stung.

 

He ran his finger down my ass, teasing at my hole. This was it, finally, since the first night I met him I’d wanted this and-“Fuck!”

 

His hand came down on me harder than the first time, it made me leap forward so far that his hand was freed from my body. It hurt, and I liked it. 

 

His hand found my hair and yanked my body back, “Don’t fucking move Dean,” he warned. 

When he talked to me like that it sent thrills down my spine, his assertive tone was more than enough on its own to get me jealous, but paired with his skilled hands, it was almost too much. I was like this putty slipping through his hands just to be found again by a grip stronger than the one I fell through, and I never wanted that to end.

 

I nodded in response, licking my bottom lip, noticing my hands grasping to the comforter.

 

“I want to hear you say you won’t move,” he growled, spanking me harshly once more.

 

“I understand!” I gasped as I did my best to stay put in place. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his hands run over me once more and then suddenly leave. I looked back, watching him unbutton his shirt. But he was taking so long, it was excruciating.

 

I turned around, practically lunging at him, my hands pushing his hands away from his button down. I quickly worked, pulling his shirt off and running my hands down his chest before his hands gripped my wrists, making me wither between his hold.

 

“Clearly you didn’t understand,” he spat, pushing us both onto the bed, his grip still tight as he pinned me down.

 

“You were going too slow,” I whined, and that struck a nerve in him. He pulled off his pants along with his underwear, my mouth falling as it had when I saw the shower.

 

“Work for it then, since you don’t know how to fucking behave you have to earn what you want, so work for it,” he spat once more, yanking me back up as he sat on his knees.

 

I swallowed thickly, looking up at him before taking his cock in my hand, pumping him slowly, focusing on figuring out what made him feel good. I leaned forward, licking up his shaft and watching his head fall back. I met his tip with my lips, swirling my tongue around it before moving down slowly.

 

I moved my hands to his hip bones, and fuck did he have sexy hip bones. I moved down his shaft, gagging as I met his base. He was big, bigger than I’d pictured him, almost too big for me. I had to grip onto those hips to remain balanced, coming back up and down. He was moaning, and a long groan would leave his lips every few seconds.

 

Is hands moved into my hair, and as soon as I knew it he was beginning to force me to move at his pace. It hurt but I didn’t mind, if my throat was sore tomorrow I’d be happy. I was making him feel good.

 

He must ’ve been ready because he pushed me to the bed, moving between my legs. I could barely contain my excitement and I guess he could tell because a soft blush tinted his cheeks as he smiled. 

 

I heard something click, like a lock, but I didn’t care enough to focus on that. He was working me up again, making me feel good, teasing me and making me beg. We hadn't even begun to move past the foreplay, but this was already so much better than my last few times. This made my times with Lisa look pathetic, he showed everyone up, and I couldn't wait to brag about it.

 

Then I heard a door close, and my eyes switched from a lust covered glaze to a wide-eyed gaze.

 

“What? What is it? Are you okay?” Cas asked, pulling his head up from my neck.

 

“I heard a door close,” I whispered, feeling stupid for being so startled.

 

“Baby, I didn’t hear anything,” he whispered, moving back to my neck, his arm outstretched to my thigh. I closed my eyes again, feeling his fingertips brush my inner thigh. His hands everywhere they should be, along with his lips. Everything he did was strategic, and it felt amazing. If foreplay felt like this, it could go on for hours for all he cared.

 

“Castiel!” An unfamiliar voice called, and I know I heard that. I opened my eyes again, seeing Cas’ head shot up himself. The voice sounded older, and I swore the more I thought about it the more I knew that voice.

 

“Now I know you heard that,” I whispered, thinking it could be an intruder, but then why would they call Cas’ name?

 

“It’s my father,” he sighed, laying his head against my chest.

 

Well fuck.

I knew Cas’ dad already, and I knew I didn’t like him, and from the looks of it, Cas didn’t either.

Chapter Text

 

“Here, get some clothes on and I’ll handle this,” Cas grumpily sighed as he stood up, his hard-on apparent. It made me laugh, but I stifled it quickly enough where he didn’t have the chance to notice.

 

I didn’t want to make assumptions, but I didn’t think Cas and his father had that great of a relationship.

 

“Can I borrow some of yours? I’ve been wearing the same clothes since I came to your office yesterday,” I asked, propping myself up on the bed, not shy about asking him that anymore.

 

“Of course,” he smiled, walking to his dresser and pulling out a pair of sweats and another black cotton t-shirt, the same kind I had dressed him in the other night. He handed them to me before finding his suit off of the floor, reluctantly putting it back on.

 

I watched him leave the room, his suit messily put on. He didn’t care. I was pretty sure he planned to take it right back off after his father left.

 

I pulled on the shirt and then the sweats, not bothering to find my underwear and put them back on. I slipped under the covers, a little cold and honestly, wanted to hide from Cas’ father. I didn’t care for the man, and I knew that Cas would get into trouble for sleeping around with a client (that was kind of sexy though).

 

I heard them talking, but I didn’t eavesdrop. Not until I heard yelling, and it wasn’t like I was eavesdropping, I mean he did leave the door open and they were yelling.

 

“Are you serious? He cheats with my wife, and I have to apologize to him to save his image, get the fuck out I’m in the middle of something- how did you get in anyway?,” Cas spat, and what he said made me angry too. Why should Cas have to apologize?

 

“Yeah it looks like you’re in between the middle of someone’s legs, is that more important than work? And it doesn’t matter how I got in,”  His dad scoffed. I hated him more now.

 

“Oh, would you shut up? You’re no saint, you sleep with your secretaries,” Cas shot back. So the boss man has scandals too? Interesting.

 

“What is that supposed to mean? You’re sleeping with the staff too?” His father accused, I could hear their footsteps approaching.

 

“No, I’m not sleeping with the staff, dad. Now just get out,” Cas dismisses, and their footsteps got louder and I could feel my chest tighten.

 

“So who are you sleeping with, one of our clients?” His dad laughed, his question was a joke but it made me nervous and sick to my stomach. Cas was silent. Well dammit, Cas, that gives it away.

 

“Are you?...”

 

“Just get out, you first tell me I owe Bartholomew and apology, and now you accuse me of sleeping with a client.”

 

“If you aren’t, why don’t I just see for myself?” His dad asked, and I could see the side of his profile from outside the corner door, my body was stuck and everything about this was uncomfortable.

 

“Because that’s weird, he could still be naked for all you know.”

 

“I think I’ll take my chances.”

 

“No!” Cas yelled, but it was too late, his dad had barged in and my heart sunk. Not for me, but for Cas. It was sexy that it wasn’t allowed before when I thought Cas had no possibility of getting in trouble, but now that it was real and his dad’s face was red with anger, it was scary.

 

“Are you serious? That bar twink with the shit booze and the weird uncle and pathetic brother, you couldn’t even pick a smart investment of mine? You had to pick some poor low life, god imagine what this could do to us, he’s embarrassing,” his father yelled, and this time I was hurt. I was worried Cas thought it was embarrassing that I was poor, but was he embarrassed by my family too? Of me?

 

“Shut up dad, you’re such a dick. Remember where you came from on the way out of the door, you fucking prick.”

 

Everything after that I didn’t care to listen to. I sat up and moved from under the comforter, finding my shoes and socks on the floor, pulling both on. Then I found my clothes and I fished my keys out of my now wrinkled jeans.

 

I had to get out of here, it was too much. I’d never been insecure about my wealth or my family, but Cas changed everything. And this was too much.

 

“Are you leaving?”

 

Cas broke me out of my trance, and I nodded. I stood up and shoved my hands into the pockets of Cas’ sweats, I felt sobs in the back of my throat and it was too hard to speak through them.

 

“Dean it doesn’t matter what he thinks, he’s just-“

 

“It matters a lot Cas, actually. This is just too much, I’m getting you in trouble and just like he said, I’m embarrassing,” I mumbled before moving past Cas, almost sprinting down the hallway of his penthouse.

 

“Dean,” I heard him call, but I didn’t stop. I was fucking sensitive, no one would tell you that other than Bobby and Sammy but I was and I needed to get out of here.

 

“Dean!” He yelled, and I felt his hand around my forearm, spinning me back to face him. But I couldn’t look at him, I had tears collecting at the waterline of my eyes and I didn’t need for him to know that.

 

“If you’re going to leave, can you at least call me tomorrow? Let me know you’re okay?” He asked, and I was sure his eyebrows were furrowed in concern with that sweet endearing look his eyes got sometimes.

 

“I don’t have your number and I have a stupid old crummy phone,” I muttered, wishing he hadn’t caught me, the more I talked the more my voice began to crack through words.

 

“I’ll call you then,” he replied, his hand moving down to mine, his thumb grazing over my knuckles. I felt him place something into my hand but I didn’t look, I was so tense now and everything made everything worse .

 

“Dean, I like you. It doesn’t matter if my dad likes you,” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my forehead, that made everything better .

 

“I like you too,” I quietly said, just loud enough for him to hear it before I walked out of his home. I could breathe again, but now I was angry. I was mad at Cas’ father for ruining our night, and fucking pissed at his jerk brother for snitching on him to daddy like a child. I made my way to the elevator and waited until it hit the lobby, tapping my foot anxiously. How long did this take? Oh, there was the ding. I stepped out and made my way out the front doors, once my feet hit the pavement I finally looked at whatever Cas had placed in my hand.

 

It was the phone.

The fucking phone.

He just gave me a phone.

That easily? Oh my god.

 

I unlocked it, and then a great idea came to mind.

I swiped through contacts until I found what I was looking for.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: Hi pls pick me up outside of mi home building n take me to Bartholomew’s place

 

DEAN WINCHESTER: my* stupid phone.

 

CROWLEY PERSONAL DRIVER: Are you having a stroke? Why are you typing like that, and why would you want to go to Bartholomew’s?

 

I took the time to notice the proper grammar in all of Cas’ text, even the ones with me. Also, he had really weird contact names.

 

DEAN WINCHESTER:  no I’m okay, can u just pick me up? It’s important.

 

CROWLEY PERSONAL DRIVER: I am on my way, Mr. Novak.

 

I cut off his phone and then thought about how stupid what I had just done was, his driver probably wouldn’t even let me in the car. He would know I wasn’t Cas because...I’m not Cas.

 

I heard the squealing of tires and Crowley called to me through the cracked window, “Got here as fast as I could, I take it that was you texting?”

I nodded.

“Good, get in the limo,” he gestured, and I did as he said. I slid into the comfy seat and sat my hands in my lap.

 

“What do you want with Bartholomew?” He asked, looking back to me as he pulled onto the road.

 

“I want to kick his ass,” I blatantly said, not thinking of some lie, just telling the truth.

 

“I take it that Mr. Novak informed you of the events that  transpired today?” He questioned, and I nodded, leaning on the window of the limo. Was that allowed, was that against limo etiquette?

 

“But just now me and Cas we’re getting, well, we were going to fuck and then his dick of a dad walks in and I hear him say, Bartholomew- also what kind of crazy name is that?- wants an apology, from Cas! Can you believe the set of balls this dude must have, I mean man,” I scoffed, my fists balling in anger.

 

“You’re funny Mr. Winchester,” Crowley laughed, putting on the radio quietly.

 

“Just call me Dean, and yeah I guess sometimes I’m pretty funny,” I smiled, watching him take a turn that led out of the town, I guess this Bartholomew guy didn’t live in town.

 

“It’s been a long time since I left town,” I informed Crowley, leaning forward and looking through the little thing in the limo that rolled up and down so you could talk to the driver.

 

“Really? How long, Dean?” He asked, turning the radio down a bit more.

 

“Well let’s see, it’s been about three years since Sam went to Stanford, so three years,” I told Crowley. What I just said was crazy, I can’t believe I haven’t left this town in three years. That needed to be something I did soon on my own, aside from this trip.

 

“Wow, you’ll have to ask Mr. Novak to take you on some of his out of state business trips sometime,” Crowley suggested, taking another unfamiliar turn to me.

 

“Maybe,” I nodded, looking at the sides of the limo which had these little tray type things with different types of booze and whiskeys, of course, the whiskeys had been drunk down to the bottom.

 

“How long does it take to get there anyway? To Bartholomew’s I mean,” I asked, curious of how long I’d be sitting in this limo.

 

“Not too much longer, he’s in the first apartment complex we pass,” Crowley told me.

 

For a while we sat there in silence, I didn’t want to talk. I was nervous about what I had decided to do, how Cas would feel about it. I was feeling the buzz of the phone in my pocket, but I didn’t want to check it.

 

I didn’t know how long we’d been driving, or when we got there, but we were parked and Crowley looked back to me. I think he could tell I was nervous because he turned to face me.

 

“Castiel isn’t going to be mad at you for this, you don’t even have to tell him, but if you did, he wouldn’t be mad. I know him, and I’ve figured him out and he’ll appreciate it. Don’t worry about it, if you don’t tell him, your secret is safe with me,” he said, giving me a smile before unlocking the doors. Oddly enough, it made me feel better. I got out of the limo and walked into the building. It wasn’t as nice as the lobby of Cas’ building where he lived, and that made me smile.

 

I walked over to the receptionist’s desk, and smiled to her before I spoke, “Hey could you direct me to Bartholomew Novak’s room?” I asked, tapping my fingers on the desk.

 

“I can’t give that out, I’m sorry sir,” she replied, but I wasn’t going to leave that easy. I was young and I thought I was pretty damn attractive, I’d put the moves on her so I could get in.

 

“Sorry, I forgot to mention I work for him. He called me up because we’ve got to file some stupid paperwork,” I paused, leaning forward, “you know how that is, annoying huh?” I asked, flashing a smile, running her over with my eyes, watching her blush.

 

“Oh, I see! Okay, he’s in room 32 up on the third floor,” she smiled, and I returned her smile with another one of my own. That was easy.

 

The third floor, Cas was on one of the top floors. Hah, you’re a loser, Bartholomew. Cas wins.

 

I walked over to the elevator, pressed the button and stepped in. I tapped my foot to the floor, not anxiously, I was excited. I was excited to beat the shit out of this dude. He had it coming, man.

 

The elevator opened and I jogged down the hall, finding room 32 and knocking hard. It hurt the knuckles of my fingers a little but it was worth it, he opened the door immediately. Cas was way cuter if this was Bartholomew.

 

“Hey, are you Bartholomew Novak?” I asked, making sure I was talking to the right person unlike my brother had done at the bar.

 

“Yeah, I am, who are you?” He asked, and I peaked past his face seeing what I assumed was Castiel’s ex-wife sitting on the couch, rubbing lotion on her legs. I was cuter than her.

 

“Oh, so rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Cas’ friend,” I smiled before raising my fist and meeting his face straight on the nose, the woman on the couch gasping as Bartholomew fell back.

 

“What the fuck?!” Bartholomew shouted, looking up to me and holding his bleeding nose on his hand, “Did Castiel send you?” He asked, but I just shook my head as I leaned down, grabbing him by the collar of his stupid looking douchey robe and lifting his head up.

 

“No, he doesn’t even know I’m here,” I paused before plowing my fist against his face once more, this time dead in the eye, the woman stood up but didn’t do much else. Now I knew it was Castiel’s ex-wife.

 

“I was just informed of how you had the fucking nerve to rat on Cas like a damn little baby to daddy, snitching on him and demanding an apology,” I continued, my knuckles meeting his other eye, I’d go for his lips neck.

 

“And that’s a bitch move man, really. You fuck your brother’s wife,” I paused, looking up to her and flashing a smile, “Nice to meet you,” I said before looking back down to Bartholomew, “And making up some little scandal that wasn’t true, from what I hear, to save your asses, and now you want him to play the role of the pitiful husband again,” I yelled, my fists meeting his face one after the other with ease. I’d lost feeling in them.

 

“Stop! He’s had enough you’re going to knock him unconscious,” the redhead pleaded, but she was laughing. God, these people.

 

I served him one final punch dead in the lips, I was tired of hearing from people what he had to say.

 

“Don’t come around Cas again, don’t ask him for favors and don’t tarnish his name, because I’ll find out about it, and you’ll regret it,” I warned, leaving the room without saying anything else.

 

Faster than I knew I was in the lobby, my hands behind my back so no one would notice the condition of them. I have the receptionist a smile, “turned out he’d already done the paperwork without me!” I laughed, and so did she. Just like that, I was outside again and in Crowley’s limo.

 

“You were gone for a long time Mr. Winchester, er- Dean. Sorry, I’ve got to get used to the first name basis we’re on,” he chuckled.

 

“I was? It felt fast,” I told him because it did feel fast. Maybe I was having fun. Time flies by when you’re having fun.

 

“A really long time, and your hands my god,” Crowley gasped, and honestly, I hadn’t really looked. I wondered how much of the blood on my knuckles was Bartholomew’s or my broken skin.

 

“I’m okay, could you take me to my home, I think you’ve picked me up there before,” I asked, nervousness set in again as I realized I’d have to explain this to my family and to Cas.

 

“You’re not going back to Mr. Novak’s?” Crowley asked, apparently surprised due to the octave of his voice.

 

“No, I don’t want to face him right now. His dad said some shit and I let it get to me and make me doubt what Cas thought about me so I just, I don’t think it would be smart to see him right now.

 

“His dad can be an asshole, so I don’t doubt he said something harsh for a moment. I’ll take you back to your house,” he nodded, pulling onto the road.

 

On the ride over, the phone in my pocket continued to buzz, but I couldn’t bring myself to check it. I laid my head against the seat, and let myself drift off.

 

….

 

“Hey, Dean, we’re here,” Crowley spoke loudly, tapping my shoulder and bringing me out of my sleep. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and propping myself up. I grabbed my clothes from the seat next to me and yawned a thank you to Crowley before rubbing my eyes again and getting out of the limo.

 

I walked slowly to my front door, being able to tell it was unlocked because it wasn’t forced awkwardly into the doorframe because of the broken hinges. I opened it, walking inside and seeing Sam and Bobby sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a beer.

 

How late was it? Bobby was back from the bar.

 

“What the hell Dean, where have you been? You left the bar yesterday and now you show up home, you idjit you scared the- what is wrong with your hands?” He asked, and I just waved Bobby off, not wanting to deal with it right now.

 

“Oh and dean there’s-“ Sammy began but I didn’t stay in the room to listen, I went straight to my bedroom and opened the door, but, Cas was here, sitting on my bed.

Why was he here? Fuck my room was dirty and my bed wasn’t like heaven the way his was.

 

“What are you doing here?” I asked, shutting the door after myself and looking at his face. He looked stressed.

 

“Dean, I gave you that phone to check on you because you were so distraught at my place that it scared me, and you didn’t answer anything and now you come back with what is that? Blood? On your hands,” he rambled, standing up and walking over to me.

 

“I’m sorry I was doing something, I’m not used to having a phone and checking it,” I mumbled, moving my hands behind my back so he wouldn’t look anymore.

 

Cas moved his arms around my back, grabbing my hands by the wrist. He raised them up and looked to me, shaking his head in confusion, “Did you get in a fight?”

 

“Technically I guess,” I mumbled, feeling my chest tighten. I was getting scared.

 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, leading me back to my bed, I shook my head no. I wasn’t, Bartholomew hasn’t laid one punch on me. I decked the bitch.

 

“Dean what happened, just tell me,” he insisted, walking to the small bathroom that was connected to my bedroom.

 

“Well, I,” I paused, feeling everything get right around me, space was closing in and I didn’t want to tell him.

 

“Go on,” Cas said as he ran a washcloth under some cold water.

 

“I beat your brother up,” I muttered, whispering so he wouldn’t hear me.

 

“You what? I couldn’t hear you, Dean, speak up,” he sighed, not annoyed because he probably would’ve rolled his eyes but he didn’t. He walked over to me and sat on the bed beside me, taking my hands in his own and sitting the cloth on them.

 

“I beat your brother up Cas,” I muttered again, flinching at the contact of the water on the broken skin of my knuckles.

 

“Dean, speak up for me,” he whispered, kissing my cheek. It made me feel better, but it didn’t make what I was about to say any better.

 

“I beat your brother up Cas,” I said aloud, watching his eyes grow wide before standing up, looking down to me but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking so I looked away. When I looked back he wasn’t in my room and I sighed, Crowley was wrong. I laid back against my bed and closed my eyes, feeling the throbbing pulsating feeling that ran through my hands.

 

“Put this on your knuckles,” Cas’ voice boomed. He hadn't left! Maybe everything wasn’t ruined. I sat back up and took the bag of frozen veggies from him, sitting them on my hands together.

 

“They’ll help with the swelling,” he explained, sitting on the bed next to me.

 

“Are you mad at me?” I asked, chewing on my bottom lip.

 

“No, I just don’t know why you did that,” he sighed, wrapping his arm around me.

 

“I was mad, he did all that shit to you and then told on you like it was something he hadn’t brought on himself. It pissed me off, I don’t know,” I muttered, not being able to explain myself. I shook my leg, I was nervous. He said he wasn’t mad but it didn’t seem like that.

 

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t text me back, I mean when you left you could’ve texted me that you were okay,” he argued, cleaning my hand with the washcloth.

 

“I didn’t want to talk to you I was sad I don’t know,” I spoke quietly, but he heard that and his hands stopped moving.

 

“What? Why?” He asked, I could feel his gaze on me but I didn’t look at him.

 

“I’m fine now so it doesn’t matter,” I dismissed, not wanting to answer the question. He’d either think I was insecure or stupid. I didn’t want him to think either.

 

His hand found my face and he made me look at him, “It matters to me. Why didn’t you want to talk to me, what did I do?”

 

“You didn’t do anything,” I told him, telling him that in a serious tone where he would understand it wasn’t anything he had done to me.

 

“Then What was it, Dean?” Cas exasperated.

 

“Your dad got to me okay Cas! That’s it that’s all it was it made me sad and made me worried that you might think the same shit, I don’t know it’s stupid okay,”

 

“Dean,” he paused, his hand moving up my face, cupping my cheek and looking into my eyes. I breathed in deeply, having no idea of what he was going to say next.

 

“As I said, I like you, it doesn’t matter if my dad does or what he thinks of you. We don’t share the same opinion, I’ve gone from hating the guy to loving him so many times that I can’t keep track. You can’t rely on his opinion, okay?” He said with such confidence that it made me feel better. I nodded, and he went back to cleaning the blood off my hands.

 

“I think it’s sweet you beat up Bartholomew for me, but I wouldn’t do that again, he might press charges. He’s a bitch like that,” he laughed, kissing my forehead before laying me back against the bed, pulling my unmade covers over me.

 

“Can I stay over tonight?” Cas asked, moving next to me on the bed. I nodded with a smile, but then I chewed on my bottom lip, it wasn’t as nice here or even close to it as it was back at his place.

 

“My bed isn’t as comfortable as yours, you might wake up with a sore back,” I warned, messing with the covers before feeling him move under them.

 

“I don’t care, I just want to stay with you,” he smiled, pulling me into his chest like the night before. I smiled up at him, bringing the covers to my chin and then reaching up to kiss Cas’ cheek.

 

This felt right.

Chapter Text

I hadn’t slept much, I didn’t know if it because I was worried about Dean or myself, or maybe he was right in warning me about his bed. But in reality it wasn’t really any of those things but all of them. My thoughts were running a hundred miles a minute, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling sad for Dean. My father’s words had gotten to him, and it was my fault somehow. I knew it was.

 

I was thinking about how my Dad might run his mouth and tell someone about Dean and I. My dad kept a lot of secrets when it came to himself, but he was never good about keeping mine or anyone else's. He had a mouth on him, and it was always moving.

 

And I was thinking about Bartholomew, and how he might rat Dean out or press charges. He was a jerk like that, he couldn’t just take it like a man, no when he got his ass kicked rightfully he couldn’t let it go. He had to have some sort of justice, though he was never the one who was owed something.

 

I needed sleep, it was one a.m, and I’d gotten maybe three hours of shut-eye. It was the weekend, and normally I worked those but I had gotten a text from my father saying he wanted me to stay home and think about all of this. He acted so high and mighty, but he was just saving his ass. I had thought about it, and against every logical point my brain gave me, Dean won.

 

I could spend the whole day with Dean if he wanted, but he’d be paired with a zombie if I didn’t get some sleep. I snaked my arm out from under Dean carefully, making sure not to wake him up. I slid off his bed, noticing I was still wearing that suit. Maybe that was part of the problem, but I had another idea. I left Dean’s room, peeking around every corner and tiptoeing around the place.

 

His brother was in the kitchen, so at least I didn’t have to snoop and worry about waking him.

 

“Hey, Sam was it? Do you have any sleep aid?” I whispered, watching him turn around and rub his eyes, he nodded, yawning and pulling open a drawer. He pulled a half empty pill bottle of melatonin from it and handed me it.

 

“Thanks,” I smiled, walking back to Dean’s bedroom before Sam made that little psst sound. I turned back around, watching him gesture for me to walk back over to him in the kitchen.

 

“Do you really like Dean?” He asked, leaning against the counter, probably more to keep him from passing out from exhaustion. He looked beat.

 

“Yeah, I do,” I nodded with a smile, wondering where he was going with this, but I didn’t really care to analyze it.

 

“Good, I think he really likes you too,” He yawned before walking past me and patting my back. I supposed he went to his bedroom, but I had to stand there for a moment. Dean liked me, Sam may have said he thought Dean really liked me too, but a brother wouldn’t ask a question like that unless they’d thought their sibling was going to fall for them. I knew that because of my brother Gabriel. I sometimes referred to him as my friend because he felt more like a friend to me than my other acquaintances. We would play the same little clever game whenever we thought the other had a crush.  Knowing Sam thought Dean liked me enough to ask me that, to play that clever little game, made me smile. It made my heart speed up a little, in just the right way.

 

I opened their fridge, seeing beers and sodas, and a couple of waters. I grabbed a water, popping open the pill bottle and looking at the name. It was prescription melatonin, and it was for Dean. Hm, interesting. I grabbed my phone from my pocket, snapping a picture of the name of this exact pill and then shoving my phone back into my pocket.

 

I popped open the bottle, taking just one pill because if it was prescribed it was much stronger than an over the counter bottle. I took a swig of water and swallowed down the pill. I took the water with me and made my way back to Dean’s room. He was awake now, but he’d just woken up.

 

“Where were you?” he whispered, all groggily as he rubbed his eyes, lifting up the blankets and waiting for me to join him. I sat my drink on the nightstand and then turned on my side, running one of my hands through his hair with a smile.

 

“I’m sorry baby, didn’t mean to wake you I just needed to get some water,” I whispered back, pulling him into my chest, sitting my chin on his head, feeling his hair.

 

“I love when you call me that,” he whispered, his whispers even quieter as he began to fall back asleep. I almost wished he wouldn’t, talking to him in this state comforted me.

 

“When I call you what?” I asked, knowing what he meant but I wanted to see the word leave his lips, his tired, slightly parted lips.

“Baby,” he yawned, wrapping his arms around my waist, moving in closer to me.

 

 

“Hey, Cas, wake up, I’ve got to go to work. Do you want to stay here or come with me?” Dean asked, having me a bit but not roughly. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times before seeing a freshly showered Dean in front of me.

 

“You took a shower without me?” I asked, putting on a pout before sitting up. He chuckled a cute chuckle that flashed his smile before nodding and moving to his dresser.

 

“I would’ve woke you up but Sammy told me you were up real early looking for something to help me sleep, and you didn’t give anything to me so I knew it was for you and I didn’t want to wake you up, but I think you took my prescription so just be careful it’s really strong,” he explained, pulling on a black t-shirt and pairing it with a red flannel. He was already wearing a pair of boxers, I was disappointed he didn’t put those on for me to watch.

 

“I’m sorry, he must’ve thought they were for you when I asked if he had any,” I apologized, pushing myself up and leaning against the headboard of the bed.

 

“It’s okay don’t worry about it, just be careful today you might be a little loopy. It took my body a while to get used to it, so,” he continued to explain, opening his third drawer and grabbing a pair of jeans. He put them on, and oddly enough they made his ass look even better than the boxers. But I knew it looked even better without any of those layers.

 

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” I asked, scooting to the end of the bed, watching him walk to his bathroom and grab a brush, running it through his hair.

 

“Yeah I do, but don’t worry about it. But Cas, are you wanting to stay here, go to work with me or head back home?” He asked again, I had completely forgotten to answer his question the last time.

 

“I’ll go to work with you, it’ll give me a chance to start bringing people in and making those changes we talked about. First, though, can we run back to my place and let me get dressed?” I replied, remembering I was still wearing the wrinkled up suit from last night.

 

“Yeah no problem, want to take your car or ride in mine?” He asked, swinging his keys side to side with a silly grin. He must like his car.

 

“I’ll ride in yours,” I smiled, standing up and finding my shoes, pulling on my socks and then slipping into my shoes.

 

“Great! You’re going to love her, she’s my baby,” he smiled, all giddy. It was cute when he got like that, such a change from the way he’d left my place last night.

 

“Your baby? Be careful, I might get jealous,” I teased, moving behind Dean and wrapping my arms around his waist, sitting my chin on his shoulder and kissing his neck.

 

“Oh I wouldn’t ever dare to make you jealous,” he cooed, somehow making me hot.

 

“Come on,” he whispered, finding my hand and unwinding himself from my hold before leading me out of the house. Bobby and Sam weren’t sitting at the kitchen or anywhere I could see them, so they were either out or in their rooms.

 

“Look at her! Isn’t she pretty?” He grinned, locking the house door behind himself and then turning around to look at his car.

 

“Very pretty,” I nodded, never actually having seen Dean’s car before.

 

“1967 chevy impala,” he told me, walking to his car and unlocking it, opening the passenger door for me.

 

“What a gentleman,” I bantered, sliding into the seat, leaning against the head of the chair. It was comfortable. He closed the door after me and then hopped into the driver’s seat, putting the key in and pulling out. The rumble of the car was cool, you know how kids used to in high school, but it never sounded this good. This is how they wanted theirs to sound.

 

“Now I have to warn you, there are some regulars at my bar who might get on your nerves,” he began, slipping a cassette into the player, some classic rock lowly playing.

 

“So there’s Dirty Dick, his name is Richard but he goes by Dick, and uses that as his pick up. It works 4 out of 10 times, so I guess he likes his odds,” he laughed, small little crinkles showing up at the corners of his eyes. Mine did that too, but it was so much cuter when Dean’s crows feed showed up.

 

“Then there’s Chatty Cathy, and her name actually is Cathy but with a K, so Kathy, she never, never ever, stops talking. Well, actually, sometimes she’ll just shut down for a second and then it’s like someone pulled her string again,” he told me, a smile on his lips.

 

“After her, there’s old man mike, and he just tells the same stories every night to different people, but he buys a lot of drinks so I listen to every one of those stories,” he yawned, raising one hand from the steering wheel to rub his eye.

 

“Are you tired?” I asked. I’d been enjoying listening to him talk, but he was clearly still drowsy.

 

“Yeah just a little, but when I get to the bar I’ll down a five-hour energy shot. They’re probably duds, placebo or some shit,” he chuckled, but the evilest thought came to mind.

 

“I think I’ve got some ways to wake you up,” I smiled, my hand moving to his knee and then up to his thigh. I watched his hands grip the steering wheel, his breath stalling.

 

“Really? Mind filling me in on those?” He asked, his voice lower.

 

“Oh of course,” I smiled, my voice smooth and low, and I can tell he likes when I talked like that because those loose blue jeans got tight. I trailed my fingertips along his thigh before gripping tight on the inside of his thigh. Every time I had done that I’d gotten a reaction, and this time was no different.

 

“Cas, I’m driving I can’t focus but fuck,” he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut just to open again.

 

“Then pull over,” I demanded, it was a command and my lips were right at his ear. I watched the hair on the back of his neck rise, and he nodded, doing that thick little swallow he did whenever he was nervously horny.

 

He found an alley to pull into, putting the car in park. I smiled before leaning over the seat, letting my lips become attached to his neck. My hand moved down to his chest, finding his top three buttons. I began to undo them, exposing his chest and running my lips over his collarbone. I nipped at the skin where I knew it drove him crazy, licking up the wounded skin.

 

“Cas,” he moaned, throwing his head back against his seat. I smiled, moving my hand down his stomach and to his jeans. I unbuttoned them, taking peek at his boxers. I’d forgotten what they looked like. I slipped my hand into his boxers, taking his length into my hand and slowly pumping him.

 

“Getting worked up baby boy? Waking up?” I asked, moving my lips against his. He muttered a yes under our kiss. I smiled, jerking him off faster as I sped up our kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth. I tasted some fruity drink, and I smiled. I didn’t take Dean for the fruity drink type.

 

I pulled away from the kiss, hearing his whine of frustration from that. But I shushed him, moving my head down to his crotch and moving down his boxers and jeans. He was so hard already, I barely had to do anything and it got him so riled up.

 

I ran my tongue across his tip, feeling his hand move from the steering wheel onto my back. I slowly took his length into my mouth, going at a teasingly slow pace. I wanted him to beg for me to go faster. His hand moved into my hair, not gripping it, just running through it. I could tell he wanted me to go faster because his hips started to buck up. I lifted up, grabbing his face in my hand, “Behave. Don’t fucking move,” I growled before lowering back down, going a bit faster than before.

 

“C-Cas,” he moaned, his hands fisting my shirt. I liked that. Cas being moaned so desperately, his little nickname for me did so much more for me than make me smile. I bobbed up and down, wanting to make him feel good. I don’t think I’ve ever finished him off. I fled from his house the first time, the second time I made him take care of himself, and the third time I’d spanked him and he’d sucked me off. Aw, a first.

 

He moaned loud this time, and his legs jerked. So I pulled off and he whimpered.

 

“I know baby, shh,” I whispered, my hand wrapping back around his cock as I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his skin, kissing under his jaw and tasting the lust fueled beads of sweat that laid.

 

“Cas, I’m so close,” he begged, his legs moving inward as he tensed up when my thumb ran over his tip. But I didn’t hear a word I was looking for, so I went slower.

 

“What do you say dean?” I paused, the hand I had cupping his cheek now moving down to the side of his neck, beginning to tighten its grip.

 

“When you want something, what do you say?” I asked through gritted teeth, my hold around his neck growing tighter as he began to cough.

 

“Please, please make me cum,” he breathed out, and just like that I let go of his neck and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

 

“Good boy,” I praised, leaning back down and attaching my lips to the head of his dick, moving down to the base before coming back up. I went so fast that even my gag reflex was triggered, but I didn’t let him hear me. I was skilled at this, and wanted him to see that.

 

His moans were louder now, quick and then short and then suddenly he yelled out my name and I felt his cum down my throat. I continued to bob up and down for a few seconds, letting him ride out this feeling. I then lifted up, swallowed and rubbed what was left of his load on the inside of my coat sleeve.

 

“What do you say?” I asked for the second time, arching a brow in his direction.

 

“Thank you.”

 

 

“You’re a few minutes late Deano, stop on the way here or something?” Bobby asked, not knowing we had done exactly that. I looked to Dean and watched his cheeks light up with pink.

 

“Traffic was heavy,” he lied, moving behind the bar counter and fixing himself a drink.

 

“Hey could you fix me one, I’ve got a bit of an aftertaste left in my mouth,” I smiled, furthering that blushes deepness.

 

“Shut up,” he mouthed, still fixing me a drink nevertheless. I just chuckled, sitting on a bar stool in front of him and pulling my phone from my pocket.

 

I had downloaded the notes about Dean’s bar from my laptop onto my notes on my phone. I scanned through the list, deciding I’d start with the self flushing toilets because they were making the customers unhappy.

 

After he slid me my drink I took a few swings before walking into the bathroom, snapping a few photos and submitting them to the online form for returns and replacements. Thankfully, the warranty hadn’t run out. My dad did do good with picking reliable places to buy from.

 

I got an email back almost automatically, saying they’d exchange them out for a simpler model, a classic hand to handle flushing toilet. There was a small fee for furnishing the new toilets, but they were pulling the old ones out for free.

 

After I’d gotten that situation under control and set a time for them to come buy, I walked over to the jukebox. Some early morning drunk was banging the thing out of anger, typical.

 

“Excuse me,” I murmured, sliding past the drunk. He had dried vomit on his bottom lip. What kind of hell had he been through? I may drink a lot, but at least I’ve never looked like that.

 

After he stumbled away from the machine, I took a photo of it and uploaded it on a reselling website. The company my dad did didn’t do free uninstallments, it would be more expensive than just buying a new one. So I decided I’d put this one up for sell why I searched the web for a new one.

 

Even though I hadn’t had too much time to myself lately, I had sketched a plan out for all of this. I wasn’t too worried about it. If I needed to wing anything I definitely could.

 

I’d already gotten some bids, but I was going to let that play on for awhile why I took care of the stupid security system and intercom system.

 

“Hey dean, do you have an office? I’m going to call the security system people about replacing it with a simpler system,” I asked, walking back over to him and picking up my glass, taking a small sip.

 

“Yeah, let me walk you back there,” he smiled, jogging out from behind the counter and leading me back to his office. He grabbed his key from his back pocket, unlocking the door.

 

“Dean you have small holes in your back pockets, I’d keep your key somewhere more safe,” I suggested, looking at his back pockets which gave me an excuse to look at his ass. His back pockets had those tiny designed ripped hole look that was meant to convey the message that you really wore those jeans. I never understood that look, but I liked it on Dean.

 

“Okay daddy,” he sarcastically said, rolling his eyes. But what Dean didn’t know was that my dick liked that. I just scrunched my nose in response and walked in, closing the door behind me and walking to his desk. I sat down in his office chair, which was surprisingly comfortable. I found his office phone and looked over the system again, just out of curiosity of what was happening. I then picked up the phone and dialed the company’s number, being put on hold. I hated the hold music, it was never anything good.

 

After waiting there for about twenty minutes or so, they finally answered. If I was petty enough I’d leave an angered comment on a yelp review, but I didn’t feel like destroying a business with one review.

 

“Yeah hey, this is Castiel Novak on behalf of Winchester saloon, and I had a question about your policy on refunds, I was wondering if you could either refund us the money because this isn’t what we expected, or uninstall it no charge and we’d pay for a replacement or some type of deal like that?” I asked, tapping my pen to the desk table.

 

He went on about their many different deals until we settled on no refund but replacing it no charge. I’d deal with that, it was basically just a trade. They would be here in about an hour, so that gave Dean’s bar a bit of time to gain more customers, which I wasn’t fond of. I mean really, if the toilet guys were already here doing their job shouldn’t the camera guys be able to as well?

 

I thought about dialing up the intercom system people, but I didn’t think it would be a good idea for today. I already had people tearing out toilets and people replacing cameras and removing them from god knows where, it would be too chaotic. Oh well, another day.

 

I glanced at my watch, surprised by how much time had flown by already. That security system kid really liked to chat. He and Chatty Cathy spelled with a K would get along wonderfully.

 

I glanced to the cameras, looking at dean talking to some handsome fellow. The pit of my stomach grew hot. I shook my head, blowing out air, calm down Cas. You just need to chill out and- what the fuck?! Why is his hand on Dean’s? Oh, don’t you dare move that thumb up his wrist.

 

I stood up, opening the door and straightening my jacket out before walking over to the bar. I looked over my stool before humming, “hm, does the still seem out of place to you?” I asked Dean, watching him tilt his head. I picked it up, jerking it to the side and letting the leg ram into the man’s ankle. He grimaced and immediately let go of Dean’s hand, tending to his ankle.

 

“My apologies, I can be so clumsy,” I said, moving into my stool and finding Dean’s eyes on me, a knowing look in them.

 

“I saw that,” he whispered, smiling before walking back and making a glass of water, ice cubes sitting on the bottom before he poured it. He walked back over to me, sitting it in front of me with a small smirk, “you seem hot, thought you could use a water to cool you down.”

 

“Very funny,” I mumbled, folding my arms in front of me and glancing to the man next to me who was standing up as we spoke. He’d laid eyes on some other poor prey he could stalk.

 

“Don’t worry Cas, he’s just a bar flirt,” Dean laughed, “He’s in here all the time and has never scored with me, but I appreciate how much you cared,” he teased, propping his elbows up on the counter in front of me.

 

“I didnt like him touching you was all,” I explained, which ad I said it aloud made no sense. Dean wasn’t mine, we weren’t together.

 

“It’s okay baby, I was missing you anyways. You were in my office so long, what was that about?” He asked, but I was still distracted by how happy the pet name made me, even if he was still poking fun at me I liked it. I understood why Dean was so fond of it now.

 

“I didn’t realize I had been held up in there for so long, I was on the phone with a chatty, I believe, Jeremy. A chatty Jeremy from the security system place, after being on hold for fucking ever,” I complained, taking a sip of the water dean had made me.

 

“Lucky for you, since you’ve been in there a couple of hours we’ve got ten more minutes until my break,” he grinned, and every annoyed and angered ounce of my mood fell away and was replaced with a warm slush of happiness topped of with excitement.

 

“Ten minutes has never seemed so long,” I smiled, taking another sip of my water and it actually tasted better than a whiskey would right now.

 

He just smiled and found the next waiting customer. I kept my eyes on him, and the customer. Yeah maybe I got a little...heated when I saw that man’s hand on him but he was so pretty and dean was so much prettier and they would be pretty together and- gross.

 

Ever since April did what she’d done to me I found myself getting anxious and nervous and all sorts of jealous over stupid things. And for the most part, I kept it hidden, but when that man at the bar made a move on Dean I just couldn’t. I was just happy Dean wasn’t angry at me for it. I did feel bad for the guy’s ankle, but then again, I don’t care.

 

I pulled out my phone, the bids for the jukebox were getting higher. Soon enough, we’d sell it for more than we bought it. Well, for more than my dad and Dean bought it. I was never really involved in his investments pre clean up and dirty work.

 

I heard the clicks of Dean’s shoes come back my way, and I looked up from my phone, and sliding it in front of him.

 

“Look, people are going crazy over that stupid jukebox you hate. I think I’m going to let it sit for a while and then once someone bids over the original value sell?” I suggested, but Dean shook his head.

 

“No, don’t rip them off. That’s what happened to me,” he pouted, but not that sexy pout I liked when he was begging. No, this was a different look.

 

“Okay, I’m sorry. We’ll take the highest bid right now okay?” I nodded, reaching out and sitting my hand on top of his, and his smile came back to his face. Dean was definitely not a corporate type, I hadn’t been one once either.

 

I took my phone back and clicked the highest bid, pressing sell and seeing all other bids go grey after I sold it. Selling it at this price Dean lost about 200 dollars, and that’s a lot to lose. He could use that money, but I wouldn’t say anything about it right now.

 

“Break time!” He grinned, drumming along the counter before moving from behind it. He gestured for me to follow him, so I did. It made me feel like a romantic the way Dean affected me, the way he was so happy to spend time with me. It used to be that way with April, but this felt different. It felt like it was so genuine.

 

Dean unlocked his office door again, pulling me inside before closing the door.

 

“I’m sorry if I made you jealous with Ryan, the bar flirt,” he apologized, remembering how I’d asked him to never make me jealous. It made me cheeks heat up because I was so embarrassed that I had gotten jealous.

 

“No, don’t apologize. I was unjustifiably jealous and we don’t need for you to start apologizing for my mistakes, you did nothing wrong,” I assured him, my hands finding his as I pulled him in closer, my lips meeting his forehead.

 

“Well, I kind of do have something to confess,” he mumbled, his big green eyes looking up at me through his long eyelashes. It made me tense up, what could he have to tell me?

 

“Yeah?” I asked, my throat feeling dry.

 

“Well,” he paused, walking us backwards until he moved in front of me, pushing me gently into his office chair.

 

“It was really hot, seeing you all jealous over him just holding my hand,” he whispered, moving onto my lap. I let out a breath of relief, my worries washing away before I’d even got to process what he said.

 

“Oh really?” I hummed, running my hands up his thighs.

“Mhm, real hot,” he breathed, rolling his hips against my crotch. My hands ran up his frame, finding his chest before moving back down to his sides, my fingertips pressing into them and guiding him against me, finding the perfect rhythm.

 

“Tell me how hot,” i horsley said, now gripping onto his hips.

 

“So fucking hot. It made me feel like I was all yours,” he paused, leaning forward, his lips lightly grazing my ear, “Like I could only be touched by you;” he finished. I was sure he could feel my hard on against him even through those blue jeans.

 

“Was there ever any question of that?” I asked, noticing the rough rasp of my voice, my hand moving up behind him, moving to the back of his neck, pulling his head forward, crashing my lips against his. If he wanted to answer my question, he couldn’t. My tongue was already in his mouth, and his moans were flowing so easy now.

 

He pulled away, catching his breath before leaning his forehead against mine, “Let me make you feel good,” he whispered, his sentence more of a request than a statement. I nodded in response, my slacks were so tight against my length that I needed it.

 

Dean smiled, biting his bottom lip before moving his hand down my chest, finding the buckle of my belt. He unlooped my belt from my slacks, tossing it to the floor. His fingers found my zipper, pulling it down with ease.

 

The door swung open, and our heads both shot up, “Hey Dean breaks ove- oh shit sorry!” Sam laughed, but didn’t leave.

 

“Get out!” Dean spat, and Sam’s laugh carried through the bar even after he’d closed the door. Dean sat his hand against my chest, sighing loud.

 

“I’ll make it up to you I swear,” he mumbled angrily, but I couldn’t help but chuckle. It reminded me of when I was young with different girls or boys in my room, getting caught by my dad and watching him try to stifle an uncomfortable laugh.

 

“It’s okay baby, I know you will,” I smiled, rubbing his back lightly.

Chapter Text

It had been a long day at the bar, considering Sam had walked in on me and Cas. Sam wouldn’t stop cracking jokes about it or looking at the two of us with raised eyebrows. He could be so annoying. He loved to annoy me, he always had. I was pretty sure it was his favorite way to pass time. Then again, I loved annoying him too. He got so frustrated and angry so easy, how could I not take advantage of that?

 

Cas had to go back to his stupid work so I had to drive him back to my place where he could get his car. I just wanted him to stay with me or take me with so I could latch on to him like a fucking koala, but no, stupid work. The possibilities of what he and I could do together if he just didn't have to go to work were friggin endless. Those possibilities were all I could think about. Man, I wish he was here.

 

Sam, Bobby and I had picked up Chinese on our way home, so that’s where I was now. At the kitchen table with both of them looking at me, their eyes never leaving me, and their lips forcing away a smile. I knew what they were thinking about, and I knew they had a million freaking tormenting questions. Sam just had to let Bobby in on what he saw. Of course, he couldn't just keep his piehole shut.

 

“Just out with it, stop staring at me,” I grumbled, twirling my fork in my noodles, watching the both of them look at each other before looking back to me. I could practically see the wheels in their minds turning. Idiots.

 

“So, Cas,” Sam started, wearing a dimpled smile. Here it was, the big questions that would make me uncomfortable and make the urge for me to blow my brains out all the more captivating.

 

“What about him?” I shrugged, looking to my noodles, tired of seeing their dumb faces. I knew exactly "what about him," that they wanted to know. They were nosey, nosey shits.

 

“Are you dating?” Bobby asked a little more of a mature question than I knew Sam was going to ask. Bobby was always a little more concerned, like a father. He practically was a father to me considering my dad wasn't much of one. Bobby saw me as his kid even if he just called me his nephew, we both knew that. It was comforting. I guess I saw him as a bit of a father figure too.

 

“No, I don’t think so, I don’t know,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders and taking a sip of beer. Bobby hummed, but I didn’t address it. He was like a machine processing something. I couldn't tell if he was just confused by my answer or if he was humming to try and work some other answer out of me. It was probably the second one.

 

“Do you want to be?” Sam asked. I definitely didn't want to answer that question, but from the look of his face, he wasn't dropping it. I wish he would just drop it.

 

“No, yes, I don’t know. Shut up Sam,” I stammered, rolling my eyes and taking a big bite of my food. Sam chuckled that evil chuckle that meant he wasn’t dropping it.

 

“So do you just take every man in a suit back to your office and sit on his lap and su-”

 

“Shut up! It’s none of your business,” I said quickly, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. Bobby slurped his noodles loudly, and I looked up to him, seeing his eyes smiling if that was even possible.

 

He then sat his fork back in his container and drummed his fingertips along the small kitchen table. I knew he had something to say. He always had something to say.

 

“Well he did buy you a phone,” he continued, arching an eyebrow, clearly challenging me.

 

“He didn’t buy me a phone, he gave me one of his that he never uses because he was worried about me having a stupid crummy one,” I argued, huffing as I rolled my eyes, feeling as if I were being interrogated. My argument was kind of shit, I knew you didn't give people your phone just because your's was better than theirs by leaps and bounds. I was pretty sure Cas liked me, really liked me, but I didn't want to be wrong.

 

“Sounds like you’re dating to me if he’s worried about you having a “stupid crummy one,” don’t you think Sam?” Bobby asked, looking to Sam and then back to me.

 

“Smells like a couple,” Sam sang.

 

“Oh just butt out it’s my relationship,” I snapped, tired of their little detective duo.

 

“Oh! So it is a relationship!” Sam exclaimed.

 

“Oh so it is a relationship,” I mocked, copying him like we were children again.

 

My phone began to buzz in my pocket, and I pulled it out, smiling when I saw Cas’ name on the screen.

 

“I have to take this,” I told Bobby and Sam as I stood up, sliding my thumb over the screen to accept it.

 

“Hey!” I said into the phone.

 

“Say hello to your boyfriend for me!” Sam yelled, and I immediately shot him with a dirty look.

 

“What was that?” Cas asked, and I felt my face get hot. I walked back to my room quickly, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

 

“It was nothing, sam is just an idiot,” I muttered, moving onto my bed and sitting up against the headboard, propping a pillow up behind my back.

 

“That’s not very nice,” Cas laughed, and awww!!!! It was so cute and oh my god am I a 16-year-old girl shut up Dean.

 

“Trust me he deserves it,” I replied, running my hand along the messy covers of my bed. I wish I was in Cas’ bed, with the soft covers that felt like they were woven from clouds in heaven and angel hair.

 

“Anyways, changing topics from sibling disputes, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a movie with me tomorrow? I have an off day, and I thought since there’d be a lot of work going on with the intercom system and jukebox- oh yeah sorry, forgot to tell you I took care of that when I got back to my office, anyways, I thought you’d like to have an off day too,” he asked, rambling a bit. I could tell he was nervous about asking me because Cas usually didn’t talk that fast and that much in one sentence.

 

“I’d love to, it'll be a me and you day,” I smiled, wishing I hadn’t said that as soon as I did, that sounded so stupid. Jesus, could I be any more cheesy?

 

“Perfect, I was thinking maybe a scary movie. There’s this new Jordan Peele movie out, and it’s got some mixed reviews so I thought we could see for ourselves,” Cas suggested, and I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see me.

 

“That sounds perfect, I can’t wait,” I grinned.

 

“Wait for what?” Sam yelled through the door.

 

“Oh my god! Go away!” I yelled, pulling my phone away from my ear. I got up and opened the door, Bobby and Sam falling a bit considering I pulled the door away from them and they were leaning against it.

 

“Privacy,” I spat, crossing my arms and giving them both a sour look.

 

“Oh come on, can you blame us?” Bobby asked, and I scoffed, slamming the door shut in their face, locking it after and moving back to my bed.

 

“Sorry, see, they’re both idiots, not just Sam,” I huffed, crossing my legs.

 

“It’s okay baby, they’re just curious,” Cas said, and even though I couldn’t see him I knew he was smiling.

 

“I love when you call me baby,” I told him for probably the seven thousandth time.

 

“I know, that’s why I make it a point to call you it every chance I can,” Cas told me in this sweet voice that made my insides all sappy and gross and warm and fluttery and I swore I felt butterflies.

 

 

I woke up early, Cas didn’t get me until 5:00 pm but I wanted to be clean and look nice. I wanted him to see me and his pupils change to hearts and his jaw to fall like mine did because of him so many times.

 

I stepped into the bathroom connected to my room, cutting on the water waited for it to get warm, I got on my phone, the one Cas gave me, and texted him, just a simple good morning.

 

I then clicked the three dots, trying to think up something cute to change his contact name to in my phone. I changed it to Cas for now, I’d come up with something later. Sam told me I needed to change the name of this phone to something else if I ever wanted to buy apps, I didn’t think that was right but I did it anyway. I just changed it to Dean.

 

CAS:  Good morning Dean, you’re up early.

 

Cas texted like an old man.

 

DEAN: you are too, any reason why?

 

CAS: I’m getting ready for you to come over, I’ve got things planned for us after.

 

I began to type, “REALLY?!!!” In all caps, but that was a little too much. Especially for Cas, who typed like an old, very old, super old man

 

DEAN: Really? Care to fill me in pls?

 

CAS: it’s a surprise Dean, you’ll just have to wait… What are you up to now?

 

And with that question, I smiled an evil little smile before stripping off my clothes. I messed up my hair a little bit and then found the camera app, holding the phone up to the mirror and snapping a photo. The picture started just above my head and ended just under my hip bones, nothing too revealing, but it would get him going.

 

DEAN: About to jump in the shower. I’ll ttyl:)

 

I attached the photo with the text, hitting send and then going to the Spotify app on my phone and finding the playlist I had played the last time, hitting shuffle. I then jumped into the shower, taking my time, but not poking around. The warm water would run out any minute.

 

Cas said he had a surprise for me, so I made sure to wash every special spot for him extra clean just in case. I was practically dying because I hadn’t gotten fucked by him yet, it was all I could think about. I’d come so close to it the other day but Cas’ jackass of a dad had to ruin everything.

 

I washed my hair, scrubbing real good. It didn’t feel as good as Cas’ shampoo and conditioner, my two in one didn’t rival that at all, but it would have to do. I looked down, grabbing my razor and cleaning up a bit. Just some light trimming, it wasn’t too crazy down there anyway. I kept everything and everywhere the way I wanted it. I perfected my landing strip before sitting my razor back down.

 

The water got cool and I quickly rinsed my hair out before the water was freezing. I stepped out of the shower, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my waist before picking up the phone and pausing the music.

 

I opened the message icon, seeing a few missed texts from Cas.

 

CAS : Fuck, you just love to tease, don’t you?

CAS: If I wasn’t so busy we’d be having a little more fun with that picture.

CAS: ttyl?

 

I chuckled, so old and so sexy.

 

DEAN: it means talk to you later. N mmm what my imagination can do with a sentence like that.

CAS: well then, as much as I’d love to make you a mess over text, I have to get some things ready for us, Tyler later, Dean.

CAS: Damnit, I meant ttyl.

DEAN: Okay, I’ll miss u.

 

Holy shit. Did I just say that? Cas would think I was some weird clingy loser who couldn’t go ten minutes without a convo.

 

CAS: I’ll miss you too.

 

PHEW! He wasn’t creeped out! It was a miracle. I kept reading his text over and over again and I couldn’t help but feel butterflies in my stomach. Could your heart turn into a butterfly and flutter because I was pretty sure that was what was happening right now.

 

I walked back into my bedroom, sitting my phone on my nightstand before going to my dresser. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to wear tonight, but it needed to be nicer than just my regular flannel. I didn’t own anything other than blue jeans, so that was definitely part of the outfit for tonight. Now the question was, which pair of jeans fit me the best in all the right places?

 

I opened my top drawer, scanning it for something other than a flannel or a t-shirt. I couldn’t find anything, how the hell did I not have a bigger selection? I slammed my drawer shut, a loud crash type sound booming off and making my ears ring.

 

“Dean, you okay?” Sam asked, breaking my focus. He sounded worried, and I guess I would too if I heard that sound coming from Sam’s room.

 

“Yeah I’m just mad, Cas wants to take me to a movie tonight and said he has other stuff planned and I want to look nice but I can’t find jack shit,” I complained, crossing my arms in anger.

 

“I might have something,” Sam smiled, walking back to his room. I sat on my bed for a while, fiddling with my thumbs. I wanted to look nice for Cas, he always looked so nice for me. Well, maybe he just always dressed that way.

 

“Here, try this,” Sam said, my eyes moving up from my hands. He handed me a blue button down long sleeve shirt, and man did it look fancy. Not too fancy, but fancy enough for Cas to go, “wow!”, at least I thought it warranted a wow.

 

“Ooo, where’d you get this? And why?” I asked out of curiosity.

 

“It was for a mock trial in class, but I haven’t used it since,” he explained, closing the door after himself. So there it was, the shirt that I would pair with my best pair of jeans and my best pair of shoes.

 

I walked over to my closet, taking out the many pairs that hung on hangers. These would be nicer than the ones in my drawers, they wouldn’t be wrinkled or creased.

 

I laid them out on my bed, crossing out any that had holes in them. That left three pairs. I tried the first pair on, walking to the bathroom and looking back to see if they looked nice. They were too loose, they’d definitely leave too much to mystery.

 

I walked back into my room, practically letting them fall off before stepping into another pair. These already felt better than the last pair. I jogged into my bathroom, looking back to see how they fit once more. I looked damn good in these, but I still had to see if the last pair showed them up. So I made my way back into my room and pulled these off before putting on the final pair.

 

They felt like they were gripping me in all the right places. I went back into the bathroom, checking myself out. These were the pair. I knew Cas wouldn’t be able to stop staring at me if I walked over to him in these. They made everything look so good, I almost felt naked. But I wasn’t, and that was the best part.

 

And shit! I needed to find the perfect pair of underwear. I didn’t want to go with just some boxers, I wanted to go with something snug, that gripped me just right like these jeans. I remembered when that Marky mark commercial came out for Calvin’s, I bought them because he liked the girl's freckles and I had freckles and his dick was definitely big. 90s mark was obnoxious but so fucking sexy.

 

I walked over to my dresser once more, opening my underwear drawer and moving past all my comfortable boxers and briefs until I found the famous Calvin’s. They weren’t my original pair from the nineties, but every time I’d need a new pair of them I’d save up long enough for a pair. These were a few months old, barely worn. Oh, Marky Mark, you treat me well.

 

I heard my phone buzz and I quickly ran over to it, knowing it was Cas because no one else had that number yet, that I knew at least. Not even Sam or Bobby, I should probably give it to them next time I saw them.

 

I lifted up the phone, sliding my finger across the screen to unlock it and seeing the sexiest picture of Cas probably to ever exist. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

 

It was a picture of Cas freshly showered wearing a smirk, those smirks he did when he knew he was getting me hot.

 

CAS: I thought I would return the favor ;).

 

That could definitely come between me and my Calvin’s.

 

 

“Dean! Almost time for Cas to pick you up, ten minutes!” Bobby yelled, my eyes widening as I realized I only had ten minutes left to get ready.

 

I ran the brush through my hair quicker than I had been, hoping it looked just the right amount of messy and just the right amount of fixed up. I then spritzed the tiniest bit of cologne on me and slipped into my dress shoes.

 

I buttoned the cuffs on the wrists of Sam’s shirt, moving my arms a bit to make sure I could still move freely. Sam was taller than me, but he was a lean little thing. My biceps were definitely bigger than his, but probably not for long. He wouldn’t stay the puppy-faced college boy he was forever. He might even grow out his hair and lose the bangs. A terrifying thought. I’d try and cut it for him if it ever got to that.

 

I walked out of my room, patting the pockets of the jeans to make sure I had my wallet and my phone. It was so weird to call Cas’ phone mine, but I’d texted him before asking when he wanted it back but he would just tell me, “I don’t, I gave it to you,” or variations of that.

 

“Well don’t you look snazzy,” Bobby grinned, causing me to roll my eyes. But I appreciated it, even behind my eye roll I was happy he said it.

 

“This is a nice change Dean, seeing you happy about someone again. I’m glad this is happening,”

Bobby said, scratching his beard before taking a sip of his beer.

 

“Me too, it’s been a long time since you’ve had someone who seems to actually deserve you,” Sam chimed in, I appreciated what they were saying but I could never deal with too much of this sappy stuff.

 

I held my hand up, shaking my head, “no chick flick moments,” I smiled, hearing a knock at the door. I felt my body tense up with anxiousness and saw Sam gesture for me to move towards the door. I breathed out before turning around and opening the door, seeing Cas dressed up in black jeans and a dark blue button up with this nice brown jacket. It looked like leather but I wasn’t sure. I just knew he looked good.

 

“You ready?” He asked, smiling. I nodded before stepping outside and closing the door behind myself.

 

“You look really nice Dean,” he told me, his hand on the middle of my back as he walked me to the car.

 

“Thanks, I planned the whole outfit out and everything,” I told him, making him laugh. He thought it was a joke, and that was a little cute, but I was going to correct him anyways.

 

“Cas,” I hummed, his eyes moving to me and his brow arching up in question.

 

“I really did plan the outfit, I wanted to look nice for you,” I told him, a blush surfacing to my cheeks as I realized how stupid that sounded.

 

“Well to tell you a secret, I planned my outfit out too,” he smiled, matching my blush as he opened the passenger door to his car for me. No Crowley today, just a me and Cas day, exactly the way I wanted.

 

I slid into the car, listening to the click of the door shutting. I watched him walk around the car and get in beside me, his side profile was so nice I wanted to outline it with kisses.

 

“I haven’t been on a movie date in forever,” Cas laughed, pulling out of my driveway. It made me all fluttery inside again when he called it a date. I don’t know why. I knew it was a date but hearing him say it was made me all giddy and warm.

 

“Really? I guess neither have I. The last time I remember being on o ne was back in high school, movie dates led to hand stuff and blow jobs in the back of the theatre,” I laughed. If you asked someone to the movies they knew exactly what was going to go down, it was almost like a code for second and third base.

 

“Hm, sounds fun,” Cas said in a curious tone.

 

“You looking to try it out?” I teased, expecting a laugh but instead, I got that smolder sexy look from him that I had tried to recreate in my photo for him a few nights ago.

 

“We’ll see,” he said as he sat his hand on my thigh as he drove, my cheeks warming. I swore if he did anything else they’d come to a boil.

 

I saw the theatre coming up and I immediately felt myself get excited. His hand was still on my thigh, not trying to work me up, just an affectionate touch.

 

He pulled into the parking lot, putting his car in park and then looking over to me as I opened my door.

 

“Dean, were you not wearing your seatbelt that whole time?” He asked, getting out and locking his car.

 

“Um, no,” I laughed, sheepishly scratching the back of my head as he came around to my side of the car.

 

“Not safe,” he chastised before finding my hand with his own, intertwining our fingers. He walked up to the clerk behind the counter outside, greeting her with a smile.

 

“Two tickets for “Us,” please,” he requested, bringing me in closer by the linking of our hands.

 

“Okay, just pick your seats and then I’ll ring you up,” the lady at the cash register told Cas.

 

“Where do you want to sit?” Cas asked me, his thumb grazing along my hand back and forth.

 

“I don’t mind, wherever you want to sit,” I smiled, looking up at the posters around me, seeing the different movies being promoted. Some of them looked really good, and some just looked so bad.

 

I felt his hand leave mine and I missed it, but I looked back over to him from the posters and he was paying. I felt bad, I thought he was going to pay for his ticket and I would mine but he’d bought both.

 

After Cas got the tickets his hand found mine again, and we walked inside. I liked how open he was about the fact we were on a date, I’d been with other men who were too scared to be open about it because of other people’s homophobia. But Cas didn’t care, it made my heart all fluttery and warm for the two thousandth time.

 

We walked over to the place where you bought candy and popcorn and all that jazz, he bought us a bag of popcorn to share and two different drinks. He began to walk away but I freed my hand, leaning on the counter and asking for a small box of raisinettes. I pulled out my wallet, giving them the four dollars they wanted for it and then jogged over to Cas who was waiting for me at the ticket checker’s booth.

 

“Sorry,” I smiled, stuffing my wallet back in my jeans pocket.

 

“I would’ve paid for that you know,” Cas frowned. Did he feel bad for not paying?

 

“I know, I know. But you paid for enough already,” I smiled, handing my ticket to the kid who was impatiently waiting, and Cas then handed him his as well, somehow even though his hands were occupied with the popcorn and drinks.

 

“You’ll be the last one on the left, number 8,” the kid who couldn’t be more than 16 said in a voice that reminded me of my once squeaky pre-puberty voice.

 

We walked down the hallway, finding the theatre and quietly creeping in, making sure the movie wasn’t on before we started talking.

 

“Where're the seats?” I whispered, watching the previews as we walked up the different rows.

 

“The back,” he quietly whispered, but that tone he used that made me hot was used and thank god it was pitch black where we were currently standing because if he could see me he’d be greeted with a crimson red-faced Dean.

 

I found our seats, letting him sit in the one closest to the corner and I sat right next to him. I took my drink from Cas, sitting it in the cup holder next to me. He propped the popcorn up on the armrest.

 

“Feels like high school,” I laughed, the lights from the movie screen beaming, letting me finally see Cas’ face. He returned my laugh, a big smile on his lips. He looked so pretty, the lights were making his eyes look so bright.

 

“I told you I was curious,” he chuckled, but even if he was joking it made me blush. I bit my lip, hearing the previews end and a lady’s voice sound through the room and tell us to turn off our phones because the movie was about to start. I watched Cas pull his from his pockets, having to scoot up in his chair to get enough room. It made his biceps flex and holy shit did I wish I had X-ray vision so I could see his bare skin. He cut off his phone, and then I did the same even though Cas was the only person with the number. Cas’ contacts could always text or call me, I’d just thought about that.

 

“Are you blushing?” He asked, the movie starting and everyone’s voices fell silent.

 

“I don’t think so,” I lied, taking a sip of my drink before I felt his hand on my chin, pulling my face towards his.

 

“Don’t lie,” he whispered, somehow even in a whisper he could convey this deep dominance in his voice. I knew my blush was just growing deeper and deeper, and it was all his fault.

 

“Maybe a little,” I whispered back, biting my bottom lip as I watched his eyes scan over me. It looked like he was ready to fuck me right there, and gosh was that hot.

 

He leaned in, pressing his lips against mine, his hand moving behind my neck. The kiss felt so much like that kiss we shared when he was drunk and the animalistic side of him surfaced. He lightly nipped at my bottom lip, tugging it back before releasing it. His lips not leaving mine. Everything he did was planned out and executed with skill. I felt dizzy just like I had before.

 

“‘Movies starting,” he whispered against my lips before pulling away, leaning back against his chair.

 

I was too light headed to huff in response to his lips leaving mine in such a cruel way. He couldn’t hide how smug he felt, I could tell he loved making me wait like this, making me suffer and leave me wanting more.

 

I looked up to the screen, watching the characters move but I couldn’t really register anything. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, and I couldn’t understand what they were doing. I just understood how badly I wanted Cas’ lips back on mine.

 

I dipped my hand into the popcorn, shamelessly shoving a handful into my mouth. I think I heard Cas snort, but I couldn’t be sure. I always ate like that, Sam thought it was obnoxious and quite honestly it was, but I didn’t care enough to change it.

 

I found my drink in the cup holder, taking a sip again. It didn’t taste as good as Cas’ kiss did. I just wanted his lips against mine again.

 

I closed my eyes for a minute, not opening them until I could think about something other than wanting to jump over the seat and sit in Cas’ lap and crash my lips against his. I finally opened them, looking at the screen and being pleased to see that I hadn’t missed too much of the movie, just the opening scene.

 

I felt Cas’ hand move from the popcorn and onto my thigh, but like the car is was purely affectionate. Sadly, no sexual motive. Damnit.

 

I leaned over, whispering to Cas, “I used to have that thriller t-shirt.”

 

“That’s crazy,” he whispered back, a smile laying on his lips. I sat back in the seat, looking back to the screen and watching the little girl on it walk away from her parents. Bad idea little girl.

 

Cas’ hand ran up my thigh, moving between them and gripping onto my inner thigh. A big grin found my lips but soon fell away as Cas moved his hand back to the top of my thigh. I looked over him to him, confused and he just smiled.

 

“The nights not over yet, Dean.”

 

 

“What did you think of the movie?” Cas asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

 

“What do you think?” I asked, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

 

Cas laughed before sighing, “It wasn’t terrible, but it definitely wasn’t amazing,” told me, turning onto the road that led to his house. Yes! We were going to Cas’, woohoo!

 

“That’s what I thought too, it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t great,” I agreed, “Mixed reviews from us too,” I smiled, leaning my head against the head of the seat.

 

“Hm?” He hummed, confused.

 

“You said the movie had mixed reviews on the phone earlier, now they’ve got mixed reviews from us too,” I explained, feeling stupid for thinking he’d get that reference.

 

“Hey, are you okay with going back to my place?” He asked, looking over to me before turning on his blinker. I nodded enthusiastically, I was very okay with going back to Cas’.

 

“I’m more than okay with going back to your place,” I smiled, feeling his hand moving back to my thigh. I sat mine on top of his, intertwining our fingers. I discovered that I really, really , liked holding his hand.

 

“Glad to hear, the surprises I told you about are back at my place,” Cas smiled, my eyes getting all big. Surprises, meaning multiple.

 

I kept my eyes on him, watching his jaw clench every so often, watching the way his fingers moved on the steering wheel and how his eyes scanned the road. I couldn’t stop looking at him, looking at him made me happy.

 

I thought about drunk Cas from a few nights ago, and the way he called himself daddy in the beginning. It was kind of hot, I didn’t get it but for some reason thinking about calling Cas that made my cheeks red, oh god and the scruff. I missed the scruff.

 

“You shaved,” I said aloud, noticing my pout in the window. I hadn’t meant to say it, but sometimes I said things that were on my mind, and even when

I shouldn’t.

 

“I did,” He enunciated, looking over to me as his eyebrow did the sexy arch thing he did so much, mm, “you don’t like it?”

 

“I do,” I began, “but,” I hummed for a long few seconds before continuing, “the scruff you had was really hot, like heatwave hot.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on,” he laughed, and before I knew it we were parked in the lot of his complex. That was the best thing about living in a town this small, everywhere was quick and easy to get to.

 

His hand was freed from mine and I already missed it, he had such nice hands. They were softer than mine and just a bit bigger, and they were so pretty. I guess he got those nail salon things done all the time, what were those again? Pedicures? No those were for feet. Manicures! Yeah, he must get those all the time because his nails are always so neat and clean and fuck I want to suck on his fingers.

 

We got out of his car, taking no time to get on the elevator and to his home. He was excited for whatever this surprise was, and it made me happy to see he got giddy about me too.

 

He pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocking the door. The lights cut on as soon as we walked in, and he smiled big as he showed me the first surprise.

 

“I cooked us dinner and had Crowley heat it up before we got back, I thought it would be nice to return the favor,” he explained, referencing when I had made him dinner after his hard work day.

 

“Cas,” I said, my jaw hanging as I was dumbfounded by how sweet this was.

 

“Do you not like it?” He asked, sorry coming to his tone.

 

“No, I love it! I’ve just never had someone be this well, sweet,” I quickly told him, wanting to wash away any worries he had. His smile returned to his face and he grabbed my hand, leading me back to the table.

 

“Sam told me you love junk food, especially pie, so I thought we could share one for dinner. He told me Apple pie was your favorite, right?”

 

“Pie?” I grinned, “Apple friggin pie? Yes, everything you just said, yes,” I continued to say with a big grin.

 

Cas laughed, walking to the kitchen and grabbing us two plates.

 

“Go ahead and sit on the couch baby,” he called to me. So I did. I walked over to his couch, I remembered sitting on it the night I met him. Very nice couch. I plopped down, looking up to the big tv mounted on the wall.

 

Cas came back and joined me on the couch with two plates and two glasses of milk.

 

“I put some ice cream on the side in case you were someone who liked to pair the two, personally I do,” Cas told me, sitting his plate on the sofa table.

 

“By the way, I asked Sam and Bobby what your favorite movie was and they said a safe bet was the untouchables, so I went ahead and rented that so we could watch it while eating dinner,” he smiled, leaning forward and grabbing his plate.

 

“It’s one of my favorites for sure, man I must’ve seen that movie like 50 times,” I admitted, watching him take a bite of his pie. I heard the intro play and I immediately got that warm cozy feeling you got whenever something happened that felt like home. This movie felt like home.

 

I took a few bites of my pie, hearing him sit his plate back down before wrapping his arm around me.

 

“Man Cas,” I paused, taking another bite of the pie, “If my mouth wasn’t full with pie and I wasn’t so happy eating it, I’d fuck the hell out of you right now,” I said with a full mouth still, finally swallowing after my sentence was finished. I looked over to Cas, seeing his red hot cheeks.

 

“Are you blushing?” I asked, teasing him with the question just as he had teased me in the theater.

 

“I don’t think so,” he smiled, his hand rubbing my upper arm, pulling me in closer to him. I liked that he knew I was repeating exactly what he said in the theater, and he decided to play along. Cas was so fun.

 

I leaned into him, my head resting on the side of his chest.

 

“Don’t lie,” I continued, sitting the pie on the table as I got more comfortable in his arms. I didn’t need to get full on the pie when Cas was making my stomach full of romantic chick flick moments that I loved.

 

“Maybe a little,”  he softly whispered, my eyes getting heavy as we sat like this but I didn’t mind it, I could make myself stay up.

 

I looked up at him, making sure I had no leftover pie or popcorn or candy left in my mouth before reaching up slightly and cupping his cheek. I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before resting back in his arms again.

 

“Are you tired?” He asked, probably noticing my eyes falling shut every now and then.

 

“Just a little,” I yawned. I must’ve been tired from getting up so early, and I always got super tired after going to the movie theater. Something about how dark it was just made me a sleepy Dean.

 

“Do you want me to take you home?” He asked, his hands running through my hair. I shook my head no, I definitely didn’t want to leave this.

 

“I like this right now, I wanna stay here like this. Besides, I can make it and keep myself up,” I told him, my arms wrapping around his waist like he was some type of teddy bear.

 

“Okay baby,” he smiled, I could tell he was smiling just by hearing his voice. His hand didn’t leave my hair, he kept running his fingers through it.

 

I was wrong, I could not make it nor could I keep myself up.

Chapter Text

 

I woke up, seeing Dean still sleeping. This wouldn’t be the first time I saw dean sound asleep. I hoped it wouldn’t be the last. Every time I woke up to that beautiful face my world felt a bit more complete, things weren’t so rough. He was still so lovely even when he snored, and though I envied him I admired him more. He was perfect. I couldn't settle on one thing about him that I considered being perfect, it was just him as a whole. He was extraordinary, and everything about him excited me. 

 

I’d had a lot more planned for Dean last night, but he was too tired for me to even consider bringing them up. Even though I would’ve loved for him to see all that I had in store, I knew he needed to rest. That was important to me. Besides, that meant that I could save all of that for another day. He'd enjoy it tomorrow or next week or next month just as much as he would've enjoyed it yesterday, I was positive about that.

 

When Dean fell asleep on me on the couch last night, I waited until he was out cold before bringing him back to my bed and dressing him in some pajamas. Dressing him like that, taking care of him like that, it made me happy. He’d taken care of me twice, and repaying that debt felt amazing. The first time was when his brother’s first took a liking to my face, and the second was when I made a complete and utter fool of myself. That typically happened when I was drunk, I was a jackass whenever alcohol took control of me.

 

I hadn’t gotten to tell him how good that shirt fit him. It outlined his arms and biceps so perfectly, it was tight on him but not too tight. It made him look good, so good that I’d wanted to rip it off him and devour him right on his front porch the moment I saw him. I hated that I hadn’t gotten the chance to inform him of that, but there’d be many more times for me to compliment his figure. At least I hoped so.

 

I slowly moved out from under Dean, watching his arms subconsciously search for me again. It made me smile, how cute. It was odd, in all my years with April she had never wanted to hold me like that or be held like that. I knew affection always lacked in our relationship, and I was glad that Dean would be the first person in years to give me the affection I had always wondered about. I glanced back down to him, watching his hand find the pillow beside him, and he was satisfied with that. Should I be insulted by that?

 

I walked into the bathroom, washing my face and feeling the hint of stumble begin to surface. No shaving for me though, Dean liked the scruff. I found my toothbrush and then my toothpaste, squirting a decent bit of it onto the bristles before running it under the water and brushing my teeth. I would’ve done my mouth wash, but it tasted bad and I wasn’t about to make that gross gag sound I made whenever I used it. Dean might hear me.

 

I then cut on the water on a higher power, running some in my hand and rinsing out my mouth with it. I cut off the bathroom light, leaving my room and quietly shutting the door after me. It would be nice for me to make him breakfast. I wanted to do nice things for him. I wanted to do every nice thing that existed for him. I would buy him the world if I could, but sadly I didn’t have enough money for that. I just wanted him happy.

 

I wondered what kind of breakfast he’d like. Sam said he liked junk food, and he was definitely right about that. I remembered how Dean ate the pie last night, while it was adorable he also slightly looked like a chipmunk with how full his mouth was. I hoped he liked the pancakes enough to fill his mouth like that once more.

 

Everyone likes pancakes right? I could pour in a cup of Hershey’s small chocolates, and whala! We would have chocolate pancakes. I was certain I’d have some here, I remembered them being on sale a couple of weeks ago and I’d bought two bags and watched the notebook and cried. Ryan Gosling was very pretty. Not dean pretty, but pretty.

 

I searched my cabinets and cupboards, finding the sweets section. Dean would like this cabinet. I’d have to show Dean the section next time he got a hankering for a snack. He could have every last bag of candy, chocolate bar or honey bun if he pleased. As far as I was concerned, Dean could take almost anything from my home and I wouldn’t blink an eye. Was that a bad thing? Maybe, but I didn’t care enough to worry about it.

 

I cut on my stove, pulling out a pan perfect for a pancake. I mixed up the batter, pouring it in. I poured another cup of small chocolates in, you could never have enough chocolate. I made four pancakes, two for Dean and two for me or maybe three for Dean. Just depended if I got full, I usually did.

 

I heard my door open, and Dean groggily came out. He was rubbing his eyes, yawning. It was so damn cute, I just wanted to wrap him up and lay with him until we sunk into the bed. We could watch tv as we bundled up in my blankets, cuddled and kissed and snuggled and damn, was I just a pool of romantic sap for this man. But who could blame me? Look at him.

 

“Woke up just in time, I made chocolate chip pancakes,” I beamed, fixing his plate and serving it with a glass of milk.

 

“I friggin love pancakes,” he yawned, trying to smile but he just kept yawning. He sat down at the counter, taking a sip of milk and looking back up to me, now able to wear a smile.

 

“Sorry I fell asleep on you last night, I always get tired after watching a movie on the big screen,” he apologized, taking the fork and butter knife I’d handed him. It was cute that he felt the need to apologize for that. There was no need to, of course. I would much rather he be well rested instead of exhausted with fatigue.

 

“It’s okay baby, don’t worry about it. You’ve been working hard at the bar, it’s to be expected,” I smiled, walking over beside him and sitting my plate down next to him.

 

“At least you still got me out of my clothes,” Dean smirked playfully, gesturing to the clothes I had dressed him in, making me remember doing that. I blushed just thinking about it. I wondered when the next time would be that he let me get him out of his clothes. Hopefully soon. Hopefully really soon. Would now work?  

 

“I sure did,” I laughed, taking a bite of my pancake.

 

“So that means you saw my Calvin’s, what did you think? Pretty nice right,” he grinned, looking all smug.

 

“I did, they fit you really well,” I told him, my voice low. I didn’t mean to come off as seductive as I did, but maybe I did. Thinking about Dean in those tight boxer briefs made my head spin.

 

“Shut up,” he blushed, taking a big bite of his pancake. I loved when I got him so frustrated like that, it was adorable. How many times had he told me to shut up in this week alone? Could I even count them on my fingers? Who knows? I wouldn’t try and embarrass Dean further, I wanted to hear everything he had to say.

 

“Fine then, guess I won’t talk anymore,” I sang, shrugging my shoulders, taking a bite of my food, and taking a sip of my milk. I wanted to see how far he would take his defense mechanism for when he grew embarrassed.

 

“Stop,” he whined, and I only shrugged in response, playing this little game just for fun.

 

“Cas,” He cooed, putting on a little pout. I loved the way his lips looked when he pouted. His pink pretty plump lips, pursed out, begging, just for me.

 

“Fine, fine,” I smiled, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek before standing up and sliding the second pancake off of my plate onto his. I walked over to the sink, placing the dish inside.

 

“Could I get some syrup?” He asked, sitting up on the stool. I nodded, grabbing a new bottle from the cabinet of sweets. I’d used up the syrup when I first made his plate, so I knew he’d run out of it. I slid the bottle to him.

 

“When do you have to be at work?” Dean asked, bringing my attention back up from the dishes to him.

 

“Not for a while, if at all, my dads coming in today so he’s going to use my office. He usually works from home, so whenever he leaves I’ll head in,” I answered, walking back over to Dean.

 

“Cas and Dean day part two,” Dean smiled, starring on his third pancake. I loved that he gave it a title, it showed he really did enjoy spending time with me and it made me happy, and it made my heart warm along with my cheeks.

 

“Oh Cas, I found a spare toothbrush in one of those little dentist things I hope you don’t mind that I brushed my teeth,” he said quietly, I think he was nervous about telling me because he didn’t look up. Maybe he thought I would be mad, but I didn’t mind at all. That’s why I left it on the bathroom counter.

 

I walked around the counter, moving behind Dean. My arms looping under his and holding his waist, “Of course I don’t mind baby, that’s why I left it on the counter,” I softly whispered, my lips finding the under of his ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin.

 

“Good, I was a little worried you’d think I was weird or something,” he chuckled, leaning back into me. This all felt very domestic, I haven't felt this comfortable with a person in so long. Which was odd, considering I’d known Dean for barely more than a week. I wasn’t complaining though, this was comforting. It felt natural, and it felt right.

 

“When you’re done with your pancakes, do you want to finish watching the movie I put on for us last night?” I asked, watching his lips move into a wide smile.

 

“Yes please,” he beamed.

 

I let go of his waist, walking over to the living room and cutting on the tv. I picked up the smart remote, clicking right until I found my Amazon prime account. I clicked the movie, pausing it and jogging back to my room, opening my closet and standing on my tiptoes to find a soft blanket. Once I felt one that made me feel like wanting to fall into bed swaddled like a baby, I pulled it down and walked back into the living room.

 

Dean was already sitting on the couch, his plates washed as well. He patted the cushion beside him, obviously impatient as he waited for me to come and join him.

 

I moved onto the couch next to him, stretching out my legs and looking down at my pair of sweatpants. It was sort of weird to be awake at 9:00 am and not be at work dressed in a suit, but I much rather preferred this.

 

I threw the blanket over us, watching him lay his head in the crook of my neck. I moved my arm around him, my hand sitting on the curve of his waist. I noted how perfectly my hand fit there, how great it felt just to hold him there.

 

“What’s your favorite movie, Cas?” Dean asked, his hand finding mine under the blanket. It was a big thing, holding hands. We’d done that a lot recently, and I really liked it. I liked the way his hands felt, they were rough in some places but so damn soft in others and whenever he touched me I shivered in the best way.

 

“Hm,” I paused, trying to think. I’d never really been too good at answering this question, I enjoyed so many different films.

 

“I honestly don’t know, I find so many different movies enjoyable, maybe I haven’t seen my favorite movie yet,” I answered.

 

Dean nodded, his knee lifting onto the couch, his head now on my chest. It was a bit like last night, except Dean was wide awake. It wasn’t just for comfort in sleep, he wanted to cuddle. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that the fact Dean wanted to cuddle made me happy and my cheeks red and my heart warm. Would that be the second or third time today in the last five minutes that he made me like that?

 

“I like the Clint Eastwood movies too,” Dean told me, his eyes glancing up from the tv screen to look at me. Every time I looked at those eyes I got lost in them. They were so beautiful, they fit a face like that. The beautiful freckles laid under them so precisely looked perfect paired with those candy apple green eyes.

 

“What else do you like?” I asked, wanting to hear him talk. His voice was just as pretty as his eyes, deep and rough but when he moaned it was light and sweet, and so pathetic.

 

“You,” he whispered, his hand running over my crotch under the blanket. I breathed in, a sharp breath that he heard, catching onto the fact I was already turned on.

 

“Is that so?” I asked, arching my brow, regaining the control in this situation. If he thought he gained the upper hand by catching me off guard, he didn’t. I grabbed his hand by the wrist, watching a smile come to his lips. He wanted me to control him. Fuck, he really was all mine.

 

“Don’t you already know the answer that?” He sassily said, triggering an almost angered reaction from me. I pulled him closer to my face from the grip on his wrist, his eyes meeting mine with shock.

 

“If I ask you a question, I want an answer,” I said in a stern tone, waiting for him to nod to show he understood. He nodded, mouthing a yes.

 

My hands found his hips, bringing him onto my lap. One hand ran up his back, resting on the back of his neck just under his hair. I pressed my lips against his, kissing him the way that I had noted gave him dizzy spells.

 

He pulled away, his hands running over my shoulders before his lips met my ear, “Cas, I wanna make you feel good, I didn’t get to earlier,” he whispered, his lips finding the bottom of my jaw. Hearing him say that made the hair on the back of my neck rise with excitement, adrenaline jolting through my veins as my irises no doubt deepened their color with lust.

 

“Can I?” He asked for permission, his right hand moving down my chest, finding the waistline of my sweats. His eyes never left my face. I watched him bat those pretty black eyelashes up at me, playing the game of seduction. He played well.

 

“Yes,” I whispered with a nod, watching an excited grin take hold of his lips. He moved his hand under my sweats, palming me through my briefs. I felt them get tighter against me from just the feel of his hand.

 

His lips found my neck, pressing delicate kisses before nipping slightly, my breath hitching. It seemed that he’d thought this out, and he probably had. We both have had a lot of time to think about things like this, considering we’ve been interrupted almost every time we got intimate.

 

His tongue ran over the nipped skin of my neck, before he attached his lips once more and breathed in, something I knew would leave a hickey, and so did he. He wanted to mark me, I could tell because he paid extra close attention to what he was doing. Though he was clearly a submissive type, he wanted people to know I belonged to someone, that I belonged to him. That’s why he placed that hickey so high up on my neck. I admired the thought put into it and cleverness of it.

 

He took away his hand, beginning to roll his hips against mine, the friction created between the two thin sets of sweats we were wearing. I missed his hand, and I knew he was teasing. He didn’t get to tease. I moved my hands onto his hips, gripping onto him tightly, beginning to direct his speed.

 

He tried to keep up his kisses, but he was starting to get flustered. He was hard, and I felt it through my sweatpants. I moved him against my crotch faster, hearing soft moans leave his moans. Any plans he had were now thrown out the window, any control he thought he possessed left along with the plans. I moved my hips against his own and continued to move his into mine, feeling his dick rub against my own. It felt good, but not as good as it felt to him, I would make sure of that.

 

“Cas,” he breathed, all whiney and desperate. I smirked, pressing my lips to his neck, my hands moving to his ass, not letting up on the speed. I was sure he went into this thinking he would have the upper hand, and yes, he’d gotten me hard and I wanted to fuck him into this couch, make him scream and make my neighbors worry, but I didn’t want him to think it was that easy to get what he wanted. I raised one hand from his ass, raring back and serving a quick but rough slap, listening to him yelp in response. That got him going because he attempted to move faster against me than I was allowing him, so I spanked him again, a punishment this time.

 

“Cas, if you don’t stop I’m going to cum,” he warned me, his voice breathless. I wanted him to, I wanted him to make a mess of himself. I liked making him wither and whimper. He deserved to cum in such an embarrassing way.

 

I didn’t answer him, and I watched a confused look wash over his face. That look was soon replaced with the familiar look of a close to cumming face, his brows furrowed in tension and his eyes shut tight.

 

“Be a good boy and cum for me,” I instructed him, my eyes running over his face. I loved the way he looked when he tried to hide just how good he felt when he needed me to make him feel good. He wasn’t good at hiding it, he was so damn easy for me to read. It was like reading a children’s book at my age, I finished a page in less than a minute.

 

I watched Dean’s cheeks heat up at that pet name, he liked it. I’d keep a note of that. Reminder to Cas: Dean likes being called "good boy". I liked figuring out what made him squirm, what made him hot and what pushed him too far. I needed to remember everything he liked, I wanted to remember it for as long as I could. I would need to know these things, I planned to make Dean mine, and I knew he wanted that more than anything. He would just have to be patient.

 

I could tell he was desperate because he began to move faster than my hands guided him to, it felt good, and this time, I allowed it. I leaned my head back, small groans leaving my mouth as he rubbed up on just the right spots. My fingers gripped onto his skin tighter than before, making him gasp but he didn’t stop. He went faster, his legs beginning to tense on either side of me, and then tremble.

 

This whole time I hadn’t realized how close I was to cumming, how good he was making me feel. I was too focused on making him feel just right. But the less I paid attention to him and the more he took control of his own body the more I realized make how close I was.

 

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, biting my bottom lip as my own legs tensed. He was good at making me feel good, and I was positive he was aware of just how good at it he was. Each time he moved his hips into me I felt a spark run through my veins. He was far too good at this, I wanted to feel this good forever.

 

“Losing control?” He asked in a cocky tone that made my eyes shoot open, my hand running up his side to find the side of his neck before moving to the front, grabbing him by the throat. A look washed over Dean’s eyes that I had never seen before, and it was hot. I couldn’t figure out what look it was but it was something mixed with complete submission and overwhelming passion.

 

I shoved him to the couch by the grip I had on his throat, watching his eyes light up with anticipation. I knew what he wanted, and to his surprise, it wouldn’t be happening for him. He wanted to get fucked, but he didn’t deserve that. I pulled off my sweatpants along with my briefs, my hand moving into his hair yanking his head up aggressively, listening to him whine.

 

“Never for a minute begin to think you’re in control,” I said through gritted teeth, yanking down the sweats I’d dressed him in and the tight Calvins he’d worn no doubt just for me. I watched him as he opened his mouth to speak but I instead brought his lips to my cock, waiting for him to move down before I proceeded, making sure he was okay with this.

 

“You said you wanted to make me feel good, do it,” I spat, watching his tongue begin to work, my face relaxing but my clutch on his hair not loosening. I couldn’t bother myself with the worry that I was being too rough or too harsh with or on him, he needed to know who was in charge, who held the dominance. I couldn’t let him think speaking to me in such a manner would fly past me without any halt.

 

He did as I said, moving up and down, fastly, but he knew what he was doing. His tongue paid attention to the head of my cock each time he came up. He was doing better than I thought with no control of the rest of his limbs, the only thing lifted being his head, and I had done that.

 

My free hand wrapped around Dean’s length, moving just as quickly. We were both so close, and so impatient. I felt him moan around my dick, and I would’ve chuckled patronizingly at that if I hadn’t been letting out moans myself.

 

“I don’t care how bad you need to come off of me, don’t you dare, not even when you cum. You’ll wait for me to tell you that you can,” I instructed, looking down to him and watching his eyes through his eyelashes. I could tell he understood.

 

I began to fuck into his throat, watching him struggle to take it. It made me smirk, he was good at holding off his gags but from the saliva that collected around my head, I knew he’d come off with a cough. I wasn’t ashamed to admit to myself that my size and the fact he had to choke it down did, in fact, give me an ego boost.

 

I worked my hand faster, making sure to tend to his tip. I could see he was close, and I knew he was about to come because he had to stop sucking me off for a minute. And there it was, he moaned loud around my dick, his eyes rolling back.

 

He remembered the rules and began to suck me off again, my hips still moving forward and the grasp I had on his hair still being used to my advantage. I didn’t intend to loosen my grip any time soon, it was working perfectly.

 

The familiar warm tense feeling in the pit of my stomach began to heat up, and he noticed, moving faster. He was a good little slut, so good for me. As bad as I wanted to degrade him with slight praise, I wouldn’t. I didn't want to push my kinks on him too far, he hadn’t informed me on any we shared, and I wouldn’t assume that we shared any at all other than our submissive and dominant dynamic.

 

I would’ve praised him without any degradation if it weren’t for the moan that sounded the room from me, my head falling back as my chest heaved. I let go of his hair, pulling from his mouth and leaning back, collecting my breath.

 

“Hey, Dean, why don’t we get a shower?”

 

...

 

I cut on the water, keeping it warm. I reached for the body wash I had on my rack of many different products, half of them I never used. But dean liked this one, I could tell because the time he used my shower I came back and saw this one had been used more than any of the other crap I had sitting there.

 

I poured some into my hands, running it over his chest and abdomen, washing away any hints of what we had just done. His skin felt so perfect under my fingertips, so soft and so pure. It felt as if it had never been touched before, but I knew that was anything but the truth.

 

He let his head rest against my shoulder, the water beating down on his back. I smiled, this was sweet. Me cleaning him up like this, and him so close to me. I moved my hands around to his back, moving them up between his shoulders, feeling the curves of his shoulder blades.

 

He reached over to the rack, getting the same bottle and repeating what I had done to him. He wore a sweet smile on his lips, his eyes were tired, probably from what we had just done together. I was as well.

 

“Cas, are you kinky?” Dean asked, his voice hoarse. I wouldn’t doubt if his throat was sore. I’d be proud if it was. It was almost as if he’d read my mind earlier, knowing that I had wondered if we shared any of the same.

 

The question took me off guard a bit, a wry chuckle leaving my mouth. Even though I had wondered the same thing, it was weird hearing the question from Dean’s lips.

 

“I’d say I was very kinky,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders after. I knew I’d been rough with him, and the fact I enjoyed to be dominant was very apparent, but I didn’t think I’d been kinky, at least not yet.

 

“Why?” I asked, grabbing shampoo and turning him around, running my hands through his hair. I made sure not to get any shampoo in his eyes, I used a harsh shampoo to keep my hair perfectly clean. It stung like a bitch when it got in your eyes.

 

“Just curious,” he replied, I didn’t buy that, but I wouldn’t push it. Dean was easily embarrassed, and though it was cute when he would get frustrated and tell me to shut up, I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear everything he had to say.

 

“Are you kinky?” I asked, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade and letting a small laugh leave my lips against his skin. Maybe I could tease a little, and of course, I was curious myself.

 

“I think I could be, I really liked when you spanked me,” he admitted, looking back to me and letting a small smile form on his pretty pink lips, slightly red from how irritated they’d been from the events prior.

 

“Good, I really liked how you sounded when I spanked you,” I smiled, watching his cheeks turn bright pink as he turned back around to face the stream of water as I scrubbed the shampoo into his hair. Okay, maybe I would embarrass him just a little.

 

“Shut up,” He muttered, and I smiled, wrapping my arms around Dean's waist, sitting my chin on his shoulder. He leaned into my touch, and I watched him close his eyes. The shampoo in his hair running down his back.

 

“Can you stay the night again? I know it’s only 1:00 right now, but,” I trailed off, letting him trade places with me, a smile on his lips as he turned me away, his hands running over my shoulders.

 

“Yes I definitely can, I’m really glad you asked,” he answered, and I felt shampoo move into my hair, his hands delicately scrubbing the shampoo into my scalp. I was glad to hear he wanted to stay the night. When I was with Dean, the thoughts of my work life ceased to stress me out. Everything felt at ease and warm.

 

“Dean, have you ever thought about how odd it is that we’ve only known each other a little over a week but we spend so much time it is, do you mind that?” I asked, feeling his hands stop in my hair.

 

“I don’t think it’s odd, I like it,” he mumbled, and I heard a sigh. I quickly turned around, feeling shampoo suds run down the sides of my face. I cupped his cheeks, watching his eyes look away from me.

 

“You misunderstood me, I’m glad we are where we are too. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it,” I explained, my thumbs grazing over his cheekbones.

 

His subtle frown turned into a wide grin as the worry washed away from the creases in his forehead. He leaned forward and pressed a quick peck to my lips before turning me around again, helping me rinse out the soap from my hair.

 

“You ready to get out baby?” I asked once I felt the shampoo finally be freed from my hair. He nodded, that little blush he got whenever I called him that moving to his cheeks.

 

I cut off the water, pushing back the shower curtain. I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my waist as I stepped out. I reached for a second, finding one and handing it to Dean.

 

I walked with him into my bedroom, drying myself off as I watched him walk over to my dresser. He looked at me with an arched brow, asking permission to borrow a set of clothes. I nodded.

 

“Could you grab me some clothes as well?” I asked, shaking my head and hearing droplets of water spring across the room, hearing it fall on the floor and walls. I usually blow dry my hair but I didn’t want to seem prissy.

 

He grabbed a shirt, pulling it on along with a black pair of sweats. He tossed me an old t-shirt I’d forgotten about along with a pair of boxers and a grey pair of sweats. I dressed myself, but just as he didn’t put on any underwear, I wouldn’t either. I wasn’t quite sure where the day would go or the night would end but if anything else happened, I wanted to get to it.

 

I laid back in my bed, my head resting on my pillow as I looked over to him, watching him fish into my drawers deeper than needed. I furrowed my brows, beginning to sit up as he turned around to me. His hand held up as he grasped something between his index finger and thumb and in his other hand a lighter. Oh fuck.

 

“You smoke weed?”  Dean asked, raising his brows as he walked over to me, smirking, a small chuckle leaving his mouth. I scratched my head, looking away from him as I felt embarrassment come to my cheeks.

 

“Oh give me that,” I grumbled as I swatted for the joint, watching him swerve away. I sat up on my knees, reaching forward for the joint but he gave a good fight.

 

“I don’t know, I think I might like to try it out for myself,” he grinned, pushing me to the bed. I watched him move on top of me, cutting on the lighter and moving it back and forth teasingly before lighting it.

 

“Dean that’s some strong stuff, I don’t advise that you-“ but he shushed me, placing the end of the joint between his lips and breathing in. My eyes widened, watching him cough hard before taking in another breath and leaning down, blowing the smoke against my lips. His lips attached to mine, deepening the kiss, his hand running down my chest, my heart rate increasing.

 

He pulled away, placing the joint between my lips. His hand now running through my hair. I took it between my fingers, taking a few puffs before blowing the smoke into the air, watching his eyes follow my every move.

 

“Seems I find out more and more about you every day,” Dean grinned, taking it from me once more and taking a long hit from it. He wanted to get high, I’d wondered if he had ever done this before.

 

“Have you ever gotten high before, Dean?” I asked, watching him nod. I smiled, feeling a bit better knowing that I wouldn’t have to watch him like a baby. It would still be fun, no doubt about that, but I wouldn't be as carefree. I liked being carefree and without worry when I smoked, it made everything better and all my stress vanished. Then again, Dean had that same effect on me.

 

I remembered my first time, I’d spent it with Gabriel and I was the baby in that scenario. He had to watch me like a hawk, I was annoying, but he’d told I had been hilarious. I wished I could remember, but then again I probably didn’t because I was certain my actions were far more embarrassingly funny than they were naturally funny.

 

“To be honest, our stuff was cheap and I haven’t dabbled with it since high school. But you look so hot with smoke coming from your lips I can’t resist,” he grinned, leaning forward as he held the joint away from us, pressing his lips against mine.

 

“You’re going to get very hungry,” I laughed against his lips, the effects of the weed already setting in on me. He giggled, he fucking giggled. How cute! A giggle! Of all the things he could've done, he giggled. How very adorable. I wish I would've recorded that. 

 

“I’m always hungry,” he chuckled, sitting up and taking a long drag before handing it to me. I took another extensive hit from the perfectly rolled joint, this time blowing the smoke into his face, watching him close his eyes and smile an annoyed playful smile.

 

“Cas, have you ever thought about how you eat so healthy? I’ve snooped just a little when I’ve fixed you drinks,” he questioned, sitting his hands on my chest. I watched his eyes, seeing red glaze over the whites of them. I guess that was true, ever since I started working at Novak enterprises the press had been relentless about my appearance so I bettered it.

 

“Hm, I guess you’re right. Though I do indulge sometimes, pancakes the other day,” I reasoned, breathing in the contents of the joint once more. Dean rolled his eyes, not finding my argument sufficient.

 

“Are you hungry now?” He asked, taking the joint from my hand with ease, his puff of it long, and sexy. The way he blew the smoke from his lips so beautiful.

 

“Definitely,” I nodded.

 

***

 

“Two-“

 

“Nu-uh,” Dean shook his head, gesturing for me to continue.

 

“Four-“

 

“Keep going, go big!” Dean whispered, and I chuckled, he was right. Go big or go home. Dean was funny high, he was an absolute goofball. He continuously spouted about different conspiracies and would change the pitch and volume of his voice every other second. He even would shush me when I didn't speak. I'd gotten used to the effects of it over time, but this strain of weed was strong. And it would be even stronger for someone who had only ever smoked cheap weed and hadn't smoked in years. 

 

Now I was still a goofball and I was aware of that, but nothing like Dean. Dean was like Donna and Jackie their first time smoking weed on That 70s show. Man, he was freaking cute. 

 

"Dean," I whispered, watching him lean in and mouth "Yeah?" Did he think he was speaking? Probably.

 

"You're really fucking cute," I smiled, watching him grin all wide.

 

"Oh man, that is so crazy that you just said that because I was just thinking about how cute you are too. Like holy FUCK! And you have nice hip bones," He paused, his hand yanking at my sweatpants and pulling them down, poking my hip bone, "SEE!"

 

"Sir, You can place your order now," The drive through lady laughed, yeah, she caught on to the fact we were high.

 

"Oh my god, who was that? See I fucking told you, governments listen in all the time. They're in your radios, in your phone, and in your minds!" Dean whispered, making a bomb noise with his mouth as he gestured to illustrate an explosion.

 

“Twenty number combo 2 combos, half with curly fries and half with regular, and for the drinks, go crazy, each one different,” I ordered, pulling out my wallet as I waited for the voice from the drive-through box to tell me my total. 

 

“That’ll be forty dollars and fifty-two cents up at the window,” she said through laughs, I wonder if she could tell we were high. Probably, Dean was laughing the entire time and messing with the radio dials. Wait, hadn't I already asked myself if she knew we were high? Probably, I couldn't remember. But one thing I knew for sure was that I was pretty sure that drive through lady knew we were high. 

 

I pulled up to the window, handing them a hundred and taking every bag they handed me. I didn’t care enough to stay for the change I was starving.

 

I drove us back home as soon as I could, dodging any traffic. I hated driving high, but I couldn’t say no to Dean, or my stomach. I pulled into my complex, putting the car in park and taking all too long to figure out with button turned off the radio.

 

Dean stepped out of the car, tripping over his own feet before closing the car door, shocked by how loud it sounded. I snorted, getting out of my car and locking it. We walked up to the lobby, and I hadn’t noticed we were in front of my door until Dean nudged my arm. Strong stuff.

 

I unlocked it, carrying the bags of food into my room. Dean had the rest in his arms, and we sat the bags on the bed. Looking down at all of the fast food bags made laugh. I can’t believe I’d bought this much fast food, it was probably the most I’d bought in the last six years.

 

Dean plopped down on the bed, moving between the many greasy bags of food. He opened one, grabbing the small cardboard box and the little paper bag of friends. He shoveled the burger and fries into his mouth, looking up to me and waiting for me to join him. So I did, I sat beside him, tearing open a bag myself and taking a big bite of my burger.

 

“Mmm,” I hummed, looking to Dean and watching him grin. He was right, I needed a burger. I took another bite, and then another, and suddenly I was three burgers in. Or four? Who knew.

 

“How many is that now?” Dean asked, laughing loudly as he tossed in a handful of fries into his mouth.

 

“Probably in the hundreds,” I joked, swallowing down my big bite, finding one of the drinks we had set on the floor in those styrofoam holders. I took a big swig, letting out a sigh of relief.

 

“These,” I paused, taking another bite of my burger, “make me very happy,” I said with a full mouth, my cheeks swollen with food like his cheeks had been the night of the movie with the pie I’d prepared just for him.