You can also read this on my LJ account.
Dean was so used to Cas’s sudden appearances that he barely blinked this time when he caught the angel teleporting (or whatever you wanna call it) onto the backseat of the Impala. Despite how acclimatised he was to the sudden teleporting he still tried to emphasise his “Hi Cas” with a sigh just to make the point.
“Hey Dean.” Cas’ answer was as perfunctory as usual. Dean just continued driving, tapping his fingers in time to the Boston blasting from his speakers. Sam was sleeping (or pretending to sleep) and practically drooling on the window. After ten minutes of uncomfortable non-speaking, Dean glanced in his mirror to be met by Cas’ bright eyes unwaveringly fixed on his.
He coughed awkwardly in the back of his throat before determinedly returning his eyes back to the road. “So what’s up Cas, or are you just here for this stimulating conversation.”
“I do find your conversation stimulating Dean.” Dean tried to convince himself that a little blush at such a frank statement was completely natural. At least it didn’t stop Cas from continuing in his gravelly voice. “Sam said that it was customary for courting couples to have a unique song that epitomises their relationship.”
“I guess that’s right. So what’s your point?” The warning bells were starting to ring, Cas had a real penchant for messing this type of thing up.
“Well I have spent the last few days searching for our song.” Oh god, this could only end well.
Cas was a stubborn asshole but it was probably a good idea to head him off at the pass. “We don’t need a song, shouldn’t you be focusing on other things, like impending apocalypses?”
“No this was important. And after much deliberation I have chosen it. Meg helped me.” This time Dean’s sigh was 100% genuine. “She said the song a couple choses is often the first one they hear together, and since for us that was the battle songs of hell, I didn’t think it would work.”
Cas gave Dean a sympathetic smile and a hand on his shoulder as he held back a shudder. “Then she said that it was often a song that was played at a poignant moment in the relationship.”
“Please tell me it’s a Led Zeppelin song?” Dean didn’t hold out much hope, this was Cas they were talking about after all.
“No it’s a Pansy Division song, ‘Groovy Underwear’” A quiet chuckling came from the seat next to Dean, highlighting the fact that he needed to do some damage control asap. It also alerted him to the fact that Sam had been awake all along, the fucker.
“I barely even know the song Cas, can’t you pick another one?” He tried to keep the whine from his voice, this was one of those things Cas was unlikely to accept human logic on. And there was no freaking way he was letting Cas pick ‘Groovy Underwear’ as ‘their’ song.
“But Meg thought it was a good idea.”
“I bet she did.” Dean said with a derisive snort. That bitch was always trying to meddle in their business.
“But don’t you remember. There was an afternoon when you were working on the Impala and your shirt was off and your batman underwear was visible above your jeans and I read you my poem.”
“You mean the ode to my ass?” Despite the embarrassment it was still a pretty funny memory, and only Cas could write a poem about his butt and make it seem cute and romantic.
“If that is what you want to call it. ‘Oh Dean your curves are luscious, oh Dean your cheeks are round…’”
“Okay, okay stop, we get the idea. We don’t need to hear it again.” There was no way in hell he wanted Sammy to know about that.
He roughly nudged the giggling Sam when the younger brother muttered “and they say romance is dead”.
Cas continued his story as if he hadn’t been interrupted, a trait he was becoming increasingly adept at when spending time with the Winchesters. “And just as I finished my poem, ‘Groovy Underwear’ came on and you blushed and went straight back to working on your car.”
“And so why exactly does that make it our song.” No matter how many years he spent dating Cas, Dean was sure he was never going to get any closer to understanding him.
“Because it reminds me of your derriere, and how that was the first time I truly appreciated it.” The daft git was completely serious. He thought he’d found the most romantic thing on the planet. And there was not an ounce of angel-approved logic that Dean would be able to use to counter that assertion/ Oh this was bad. By this point Sam’s laughter had built up so loud it was impossible to ignore, and every time Dean squirmed it just made him laugh louder.
“What’s so funny Sam?” Cas sounded completely surprised, gruff voice asking out of pure curiosity where anyone else would have been trying to pick a fight.
Cas’ naïve tone cracked Sam up more even as he managed to choke out a “Nothing Cas, I think it’s perfect” before he started cackling again.
“Well in that case I shall take my leave. I have been neglecting my duties for the past few days and now I need to check in with Balthazar. I love you Dean.” Dean felt the softest of kisses against his cheek and then Cas was gone with a resounding whooshing noise before Dean had another chance to try to change his mind.
He rested his hand on his cheek for the briefest of moments. Sam was too busy laughing anyway to make any comments about how sappy they were.
Unfortunately the bastard had even more reason to guffaw as the radio flickered for a couple of seconds and then started blasting out Cas’ parting gift.
“Tight briefs on your sexy butt
White fabric surrounding your nuts
Bike shorts put it on display
You´re wearing it to the left today
Sweat pants clinging to your crevice
Boxer shorts for easy access
I´m digging your
Groovy underwear, groovy underwear, ooh, ooh”
Dean just growled and slapped Sam round the back of the head, but Sam was too far gone in a fit of laughter at that point. The worst thing about this whole situation was that Dean was fairly sure that this wasn’t going to be the end of it.
It had been a week and a half since Dean had seen Cas, and even though he would deny it to his dying breath it was making him feel pretty antsy. Sam was trying to give him as much space as possible, which was difficult when the worked, travelled, ate and slept together. His chattering on about his new computer (which Dean apparently wasn’t allowed on, HAHAHAHA, he knew every single one of Sam’s passwords) had got to the point of inducing the intent to commit homicide.
Dean had decided to enforce a no talking rule that would result in his little brother having to wear a gag if he didn’t shut his trap. And no, he wasn’t going to tell Sam why he had a gag and yes, Sam could be as grossed out as he liked, Dean was still going to use it to shut him up. It was probably a giveaway that he couldn’t stop smiling at the memories the item in question dragged up. And Sam’s glower suggested he’d picked up on it.
Sam had been complaining about a headache resulting from Dean’s rock station for the past ten minutes (Dean normally gave it fifteen before he would actually turn the music off). The general rule was that the more he moaned the louder the music got, and Sam knew from experience that Dean would eventually turn it off with a lot let hassle if he kept quiet.
Humming along a little, Dean was barely listening to the music until the presenter’s voice broke through.
“~~This is a slight break from our usual rock line-up, but the guy who made the request seemed super nice so I thought I’d give him this next one.~~”
“Oh God, how fucking soppy, who the hell would call into a radio show like that?” Dean grumbled, upset his music was being interrupted, only earning a uninterested bitchface glare from Sam.
“~~So this is for Dean with the ‘perfect soul’ and the ‘profound bond’, apparently your angel loves your ‘Groovy Underwear’.~~”
“Jockstrap showing off your cheeks
Movin´ in for a closer peek
Running shorts, thin as paper
Barely dressed, nearly naked
Pulled down around your ankles
I´ll make you spill out like an oil tanker
All because of your groovy underwear”
Dean just stared dumbfounded at the radio whilst Sam perked up considerably. The radio appeared trapped on the channel, the knobs completely ineffective at changing the station or turning it off. Apparently Cas was determined to drive Dean mad with his song.
He banged his head against the steering wheel as Sam shook with laughter. Since Cas’ big declaration Sam had made a point of learning the lyrics. He was singing along with an infuriating yell, adding a mature ‘Dean and Cas sitting in a tree’ to the end.
If Dean’s mood perked up after that and he stopped being such a dick to Sam, well maybe it was something to do with having fries for lunch.
The boredom was beginning to get to Dean. He hated daytime TV and since the hunt was finished he was left with nothing to do whilst Sam was out visiting a ‘friend’. He decided it was the perfect time to have some fun with Sam’s new laptop.
Once the log screen came up (capped with an obnoxious picture of their time LARPing that Dean really needed to wipe off the face of the planet) he began typing in passwords. He started with the easy ones like ‘Jess’, ‘fuckyoudean’, ‘getalife’, ‘samrulesdeandrools’, ‘deanlikesllamas’ and then went onto the more complicated ones that contained a load of numbers. He got so fed up with it that he looked up the password hint. The comment left him with narrowed eyes. ‘Leave my computer alone Dean, go play with Cas instead’.
The speed at which the answer hit him was a testament to the amount of time he and Sam spent with each other. It couldn’t be. Sam would never do that to him. But of course he would. At least Dean could try it.
On the first try of typing in ‘groovyunderwear’ there was a pinging noise and the desktop loaded. Complete with a picture of Sam extending his middle fingers. He was going to kill his younger brother, even as his brain latched onto the annoyingly catchy tune. Was he never going to be able to get it out of his head?
“I´m digging your
Groovy underwear, groovy underwear, ooh, ooh
Groovy underwear, groovy underwear, ooh, ooh
It´s so groovy”
Yup, he was definitely going to kill Sam.
Okay, so Dean might have deserved it, but he could not believe Sam could be such a dick.
Unfortunately a bored and vengeful Dean had resulted in an attempt to revive the prank war. Apparently using ground up unicorn horn to turn Sam’s hair pink was a ‘step too far’ (whiny baby). Instead of retaliating in a satisfactory manner, Sam had ratted him out to Bobby. After a lecture on the dangers of misusing mythical objects, Bobby had said that Dean had better make up for it in a mature manner and that both of the idjits were going to regret it if he had to get involved again. And by that he meant that Dean was going to get into shit. For a thirty odd year old it was amazing how quickly he return to feeling like a chastised ten year old.
In the end he’d agreed a truce in the form of Sam having control of the bunker’s speaker system for the week. So far the morning had been spent with Celine Dion. Dean quickly discovered that there was only one pair of ear plugs in the bunker, and that Sam had already got his hands on them. All of his headphones had gone mysteriously missing too. In the end he’d made a deal with the evil bastard that if he made lunch then Sam would stop it with the titanic torture. So after making a pile of burgers (with an extra couple left in the oven in case a certain winged boyfriend appeared) Dean’s ears got some relief.
But not for long. It didn’t take long for Sam to start with the next stage of his get-back-at-Dean plan. The minute Dean heard the opening chords he could tell it was going to be a loooong day. After four rounds of :
“Stretched tight, so hot
I´ve come, i´ve shot
My turn now to get you off
What a collection of skivvies i´ve got”
Dean was practically screaming at Sam. His little brother took a second to dig a plug out of his ear accompanied by a smirk that Dean was pretty close to battering off his face. The music had driven him to the end of his tether and the frustration that had been building all morning suddenly exploded at Sam.
“For the love of god will you please turn that awful song off? I want to get some work done today but I can’t with that crap blaring in my ears.” Towards the end of his shouting Sam’s face lost its smirk, his eyes widening and his head shaking back and forth.
It took Dean all of two seconds to turn around and catch sight of Cas looking like a puppy that had been kicked in the face. He was staring at him with tearful eyes, complete with an utterly betrayed expression.
So of course Dean said the most sensitive thing that he could think of. “Cas. What are you doing here?”
“You said I should come over for burgers.” The angel sniffed at him, the most pathetically cute thing he’d ever seen. “I’m not hungry now.”
“Dude, you’re never hungry, you’re an angel.”
“Well I don’t want any of your burgers then.” Cas stamped his foot, actually full on stamped his foot, and stormed out of the kitchen heading for Dean’s room. It was pretty dramatically theatrical for an angel who could zap himself out of the room with an efficient click of his fingers.
Dean knocked on his own bedroom door, only briefly acknowledging the absurdity of such a gesture.
“I don’t want to talk to you Dean.” His words were punctuated by sobs, sending a guilty stab to Dean’s gut. He should probably have realised that Cas would eventually find out he’d been shitting all over his song choice.
“Dude, it’s my room!” Dean quickly figured out that that was probably not the best thing to say. The sobbing reached a higher decibel. Fuck he never knew what to do in these situations. First things first, he decided the best bet was for them to be in the same room.
He opened the door to Cas sprawled out on the bed, cuddling one of his pillows. Dean thought it prudent not to mention the trails of snot and tears he was leaving behind. When those soulful eyes turned to blink at him, accompanied by a red puffiness and a snot stained face, Dean’s heart broke a little.
How could he have been such a dick? Of course this was important to Cas. He should have guessed that this was about much more than a song. Shit he needed to fix this. And he was only partly motivated by the thought of Meg ringing him up and giving him a shrill earful about how Cas was a special snowflake who needed a sensitive hand. Last time had been more than enough, and although he hated her with a passion he was kinda glad that there was someone to fight Cas’ corner when he was being a dick. Like now. He needed to make things right. Dean sat down gingerly next to his crying boyfriend, conscious of those blue eyes focused on his every move.
“You don’t like our song Dean?” The question was phrased more as an accusation, leaving Dean looking down at Cas with a sheepish expression.
“No it’s not that honey. Sam’s just been driving me mad with the stereo-system all day and I snapped. Of course I like our song.”
“But you said it was awful and crap.” A fresh barrage of tears fell from his eyes.
Dean took one look at Cas and gathered the weeping angel against his chest, snot tears and all, crushing him tight and stroking his hair. “I didn’t mean it Cas.”
“Because if you don’t like the song then that means you don’t like us!” Cas choked out through his sobs.
At that Dean gently pulled his chin up until they were eye level. “Oh sweetiepie. No it doesn’t mean that. Of course I like us Cas. In fact I love us, more than anything. I love you more than anything.” He gave a big sigh, there was only going to be one way to make up for his insensitivity. “And I love our song.”
When Cas only replied with a sniffle Dean kissed him. The touch of lips was enough to completely stop his crying and Dean found himself greeted by a shaky smile. “So how about we go eat those burgers we talked about and I ask Sam to put our song back on while we eat?” He continued when that only resulted in a pause. “And we can listen to it all day if you want.”
Dean could tell he’d fixed it when Cas looked up at him from under his eyelashes trying ridiculously hard (and failing) to appear coy. He really did have the cutest boyfriend, even if he was a bit sensitive about particular songs. “Call me sweetipie again”
“Okay you big sap. Sweetiepie.” The joking tone of Dean’s voice got a silly giggle out of Cas as he booped his nose.
And call me it in front of Sam” When Dean fixed him with an unimpressed stare Cas only grinned wider “For the rest of the day. What? You said you wanted to make it up to me. And I want ice-cream too.”
“Of course sweetiepie” Dean said with a sheepish sigh. Sam was going to tease him about this for a long time and Cas was going to be insufferable for the rest of the day. But all considered, it was worth it.
If Dean didn’t already hate (maybe hate was a little strong, but still) the song enough at this point, Cas had made it his ringtone on Dean’s phone. And to be even more helpful, Cas had also made it his alarm tone and had locked it in with his angelic powers so Dean couldn’t change it. It wasn’t like he could even argue after he’d upset Cas so much by rejecting his (now their) song last time.
And of course once Sam realised, he started to refuse to use his phone as their alarm, so every freaking morning Dean was shaken into wakefulness by:
“Skimpy little g-string
Hardly a stitch covering that thing
Tucked into that little pouch
Straining hard to get out
Barely hold you once you get throbbing
Let my hands go fishing around in
Look what I found in your groovy underwear”
And when Sam suggested that Dean answered the phone so quickly when the song played because he knew it would be Cas on the other end Dean only half-heartedly denied it.
Dean’s new philosophy had to be ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ or he was going to go mad. That’s why he kept telling himself he was doing this. He was doing it for Cas. He wasn’t doing this for himself, or because he thought it was actually maybe a little cute that Cas had chosen it as their song. It was a horrible song that he definitely wasn’t singing it all the time. And if it was the most listened to song on his iPod then no one had to know (most definitely not Sam).
It wasn’t like he would hum it to himself with a nerdy smile on his face whenever he was especially missing Cas. And he 100% wasn’t teaching himself to play it on his guitar because it made him feel closer to his all too often MIA boyfriend. He was doing it to make Cas happy. And maybe, just maybe, because learning a song with suggestive lyrics could only lead to more exciting couple-focused activities.
As he lay on his back picking at his six string and singing (completely out of tune of course) he hadn’t realised how hard he was thinking about his angel. Within a matter of seconds his enthusiastic voice had been joined by an equally off-key partner. His eyes fluttered open, his hands stilling with an irritating ringing on the guitar strings as a soft hand stroked across his cheek.
“I believe we are wearing far too many clothes to be singing such a song.” Cas’ gruff voice sounded unusually smug.
Before Dean had chance to take a breath he felt a cool breeze against his skin and glanced down to realise that Cas had zapped away all their clothes. Well, most of them, he realised with a grin. Cas looked ruggedly gorgeous in his whitey tightys in a way that no one else could pull off. Dean noticed with a quick glance that he was likewise only sporting his own underwear. Although for some almost prophetic reason he had decided today was a good day to wear his pastel pink lacy panties. He normally saved them for when Cas was around.
The angel just grinned at him, ordering him to start the song all over again since he’d stopped in the middle. Neither of them could keep the smiles off their faces, particularly as Dean drew to the end.
“You sure know how to please
Let me give those buns a squeeze
What fine cakes, what fine batter
Any second now i´m gonna splatter
All over your groovy unde….”
The squeal that escaped from Dean’s mouth was decidedly unmanly, but as Cas gently wrestled the guitar from him and followed up his tickling with a kiss he decided it didn’t matter anyway. And goddamn did he love the goof’s groovy underwear.