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rockstarpeach at 04:14pm on 07/06/2010 under character: castiel, character: dean winchester, character: gabriel, character: sam winchester, fic - spn: all i've got to give
rockstarpeach at 04:14pm on 07/06/2010 under character: castiel, character: dean winchester, character: gabriel, character: sam winchester, fic - spn: all i've got to giveTitle: All I’ve Got to Give
Pairings: Dean/Cas primarily. Others include SPOILERS, though I know some people like to be warned. Cas/Sam, Dean/Gabriel, Cas/OCs. References to Dean/OCs, Sam/OCs, Sam/Jess.
Summary: AU story, in which Castiel is a wealthy CEO suffering from a bad case of unrequited love, Gabriel is his dickhead brother, Sam is a happy and (mostly) well adjusted 18yo, and Dean is a high school drop-out working at a garage by day and a bar by night to support himself and his little brother.
***
Three days later Dean’s cell phone rang just as he was finishing up at Bobby’s, but he let it go to voicemail because his hands were covered in motor oil. That, and he was busy flirting with the man who’d come to pick up the Camaro Dean had spent months fixing up.
The guy was hot. Older though, even older than Cas, but in a distinguished way, not a creepy old man way, and he had a very obvious thing for mechanics. Dean played it up. Talked shop that was way over the guy’s head, and made sure to get himself a little dirtier than necessary when he was pointing out all the repairs he’d made under the hood.
Bent over a little too far sometimes, and brushed up a little too close to the guy when he walked around the car.
They guy was so fucking easy, played into Dean’s every move, licking his lips and directing his eyes exactly where and when Dean wanted them, got tongue tied when he was thanking Dean for his work, and had to try three different times to sound casual when he asked Dean out.
Dean didn’t really answer him either way, just told him he’d have to think about it, and pocketed the man’s business card. He seriously doubted he’d call. Oh, Dean was sure the guy would look good all spread out over the hood of his sweet new ride, ass in the air and panting out his orgasm while Dean fucked him. He just wasn’t so sure about the rules surrounding his new arrangement with Cas. And more than that, he just wasn’t sure if he was really interested.
The guy left with his car, and Dean thought briefly of calling just so he could see her again, and laughed at himself while he cleaned his hands, and checked his messages. The call had been from Cas, and the message was succinct. “Hello Dean. Please come to my apartment tonight.” Like Dean was on call, and would show up whenever Cas told him to. Ass.
But, he’d asked nicely. Said ‘please’ and everything, and it was one of his nights off anyway. Besides, it was probably best that they see each other sooner rather than later. Work out the new details, if there were any.
***
Castiel smiled to himself when he heard the front door open and close, and waited a few heartbeats for the sound of Dean’s voice.
“Cas?” Dean called out from down the hall, and Castiel crossed from the living room to the kitchen, to pour them some drinks.
“Here,” Cas answered. “Come in, Dean.”
A handful of seconds later Dean was standing behind him, and Cas turned, handing Dean one of the two frosted mugs of beer.
“Fancy,” Dean noted, holding up the mug. “Too good for bottles all of a sudden?”
Castiel smiled his most placating smile at Dean, and didn’t answer as he led him back into the living room, where they both sat down on the couch.
“So you accepted my offer,” Castiel said, and looked at Dean as he took a swallow from his glass, and licked the slight foam from his lips. He’d been terrified that Dean wouldn’t, that he’d end it for good, and while Castiel didn’t want to have to pay Dean off to stay with him, it was better than nothing.
“Yeah,” Dean choked out around his next swallow, and shifted uncomfortably. “So uh… what now?”
“Now… nothing changes. We keep dating - ”
“We were never dating,” Dean cut him off. “You took me out on two dates, and ever since then we mostly just get together for sex.”
“It’s always been more than sex, Dean,” Castiel told him, eyes intensely focused on Dean’s. “Almost from the start. But if you still refuse to see that, I can’t force you. In any case, we keep seeing each other. Same as we have been. And as I said, if you no longer want to continue the sexual aspect of our relationship, I will, um, adjust. But make no mistake, I want to be with you.”
“Cas, you…” Dean started, and Castiel knew that both of them were getting tired of this particular conversation, but for very different reasons. “You know this doesn’t mean we’re together right? I mean, yeah, I’ll still see you, and we’ll still fuck. Because hey, I ain’t gonna lie. The sex is pretty fantastic. But we’re not like… boyfriends, or anything. And we never will be.”
Castiel wasn’t so sure how accurate that was, but he didn’t say anything. Correcting Dean would likely only send him running. He knew he was already past the point of pretending that what he felt for Dean wasn’t entirely real, and very worth taking a risk on. He knew Dean’s feelings for him were there as well, if buried so deep that Dean was having a hard time recognising them, and he was still very much holding out hope that one day Dean would realise them, and not have to hide behind the money for his brother, as a reason for sticking around.
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed, Dean,” Castiel said, and placed his free hand on Dean’s knee. “But I won’t push.” Dean nodded, and Castiel’s hand slid up his thigh, fingers warming the denim of his inseam. He felt Dean shiver under him, and the younger man took a sip of his beer to cover it up.
“Relax, Dean,” Castiel whispered, leaning in close to Dean’s ear. “Nothing has changed since the last time, and nothing will. Not unless you want it to.” He kissed Dean’s neck, just below his ear and the soft rumble that came from Dean’s throat went straight to Castiel’s dick.
He would have loved to take advantage of it, but he was hungry, and he suspected Dean was as well. Also, he had a point to prove. A point that had nothing to do with sex, and was all about making sure Dean knew there was no pressure. Yes, Castiel had given him a lot of money. From Dean’s perspective, at any rate, but he honestly didn’t expect anything of Dean except his company, in exchange.
“Pizza?” Castiel offered, smiling, as he pulled back, and placed a soft peck on Dean’s lips.
“Cas, man,” Dean said, his voice strained, and he shifted his hips. When Castiel looked down he saw the significant bulge in the front of Dean’s pants. “You can’t just get the motor runnin’ like that and then offer it pizza.”
“I’m sure ‘little Dean’ will be just as enthusiastic on a full stomach,” Castiel quipped, and patted Dean’s leg once, before standing.
“Hey!” Dean barked, and stood up, following Castiel back into the kitchen, where he pulled the flyer for Gino’s, Dean’s favourite in the area, out of the take-out menu drawer. “Who you callin’ little?”
“And if you’re interested,” Castiel said, hiding a smile and ignoring Dean’s mock outrage. “I have the first two seasons of The Sopranos on DVD. That should keep us sufficiently entertained for a while.”
“You… what?” Dean asked, shaking his head, and looking like he didn’t even know where to start explaining how weird everything was.
“Gabriel left them here,” he explained. “I suspect on purpose, because he thinks it would be something that you’d be interested in. It’s almost as if he doesn’t think I’m capable of entertaining you on my own.”
“It’s a conspiracy, isn’t it?” Dean asked, looking kind of numb. “I’m never going to get laid again, and all because you, and apparently now your dickhead of a brother, think it’ll hurt my delicate little feelings if we fuck now that you’re paying me.”
Castiel narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but picked up the telephone, dialling the number for Gino’s. Dean’s arms circled around his waist from behind just as the line was picked up on the other end, and Castiel had to suck in a sharp breath when Dean’s hand slid down, and cupped his half-hard dick through his pants.
“Yes,” Castiel said into the phone, clearing his throat, and elbowing Dean gently in the stomach. “Castiel Novak. Delivery please.”
“Trust me, baby,” Dean said, and he licked a wide stripe up the back of Castiel’s neck and gripped his hips tight in his hands, yanked him back at the same time Dean thrust forward, the outline of his erection pressing along the crease of Castiel’s ass. Castiel bit back a moan, but Dean had no such qualms. Gino’s nephew was likely getting one hell of an audio show. “Don’t think I could ever run out of entertainment with you around.”
Castiel jerked his head around and shot Dean a glare, his order to leave him the hell alone while he was on the telephone implicit.
“Pepperoni on half,” he said into the phone, because Dean liked it, but he didn’t. “Yes. Large.”
“Hmmm, I’ll say,” Dean mumbled behind his ear, and bit the shell gently, while slipping a hand inside the front of Castiel’s pants.
Castiel couldn’t hold back a slight moan this time, and the man on the other end of the phone actually laughed. Castiel scowled at both him and Dean, and Dean pushed even closer against his back, teasing him with soft rocking motions. “Spinach,” he said abruptly, and Dean pulled back, cocking his head. Good. “And broccoli.” Take that, Dean. “Yes, on the whole thing. Thank you.”
Dean growled and bit down hard on Castiel’s shoulder, and his eyes fluttered closed as he put the headset back down on the receiver. He took a breath and whirled around on Dean, opened his mouth to chastise him, but didn’t get the chance. Dean beat him to it.
“Spinach?!” he asked, incredulous.
“Don’t forget the broccoli,” Castiel smiled.
“I’m not eating that shit.”
“Then you’ll go hungry,” Castiel told him simply, with a shrug. But he knew Dean better than that. He’d eat just about anything. He’d complain the whole way through, even if he liked it, on principle, but he’d eat it.
Dean smirked, and turned Castiel the rest of the way around. Pushed him back against the wall, and his hands went straight for Castiel’s crotch. One hand cupped his dick and the other deftly unfastened the top button of the jeans that Dean liked on him so much.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dean drawled, and slid the zipper down, reaching inside Castiel’s underwear to take him out. He pumped him a few times until he was fully hard, and almost boneless, counting on the wall to support him. “I can think of something that might fill me up.”
“Yes,” Castiel said, granting permission, and Dean sunk to his knees. “But slowly,” he warned, before Dean’s lips had even touched his shaft. “I don’t want to come until I hear the doorbell ring.”
Dean shrugged, and grinned up at him, licked those sinfully delicious lips of his. “You’re the anally-retentive control freak,” he said, with a shrug, before his mouth closed down around Castiel’s length.
***
Dean did perfectly, sucking Castiel down enthusiastically, but backing off at just the right moments to keep him on the edge, only having to be told once or twice over the course of the forty-five minutes to slow down, to ease up. He walked the line with Castiel with an expertise that was gained through experience, their time together, and the very second they heard the door buzz, signalling the arrival of their dinner, Dean’s mouth clamped down hard, and he sucked even harder.
Pulled Castiel’s hard length as far as he could down his throat and swallowed again and again, fingers coming up to brush over his balls and along his crack, and Castiel was coming. Like a white hot flash of lightening through his lower back and out his dick, blinding him in the process, he spilled down Dean’s willing throat, and when he was finished he gently pushed Dean back, tucked himself in, and very properly went to answer the door.
He was aware that his shirt was untucked, and the blissed out expression he was wearing, along with his swollen lips from where he’d been biting them for the past half hour, would probably give him away, but he hardly cared.
He paid the delivery man, along with a generous tip, and when he arrived back in the kitchen it was to find Dean rummaging through the cupboards, a bag of pretzels in one hand, a jar of that disgusting processed cheese product dip that Gabriel kept there in the other. There was popcorn popping away in the microwave, and a plate stacked high with Pop Tarts, as well as two newly opened beers, on the counter.
“How hungry are you?” Castiel asked, eyeing his bounty, and their pizza.
“Dude, I told you,” Dean said, looking at the pizza box with disgust, while Castiel retrieved two plates from the cabinet. “I’m not eating that shit.”
“Dean, a vegetable every once in a while won’t kill you,” Castiel said, looking at Dean like he was reasoning with a child. “In fact, it will have the opposite effect.”
“Christ,” Dean grumbled. “You sound like Sam. Fine. Gimme some of your garden pizza there.”
Castiel smiled and served them each two slices, as the microwave pinged. It was quite the balancing act to carry all their food into the entertainment room, but they managed.
They spent the next four hours watching television while they ate, and then quietly cleaned up together before they made their way to the bedroom.
They didn’t even fuck. Neither of them even gave any indication that they were interested. They just brushed their teeth, shared a chaste kiss, and fell asleep with their knuckles brushing together, and the sheet rucked up around their waists.
It had been a nice night.
Castiel wanted every night to be like this one.
***
Two weeks later, Sam started school.
Five days after that, Dean got together with his little brother for more than a minute and a half, for the first time in over two weeks.
Dean had been busy working his two jobs, and trying to fit Cas in wherever he could, which wasn’t much. Not as much as he would have liked, anyway, and not as much as Cas liked either. He’d only even been able to spend one night over the last two weeks with Cas, having to fill in the Monday and Tuesday of this past week at Jesse’s for Max, who’d called in sick.
The Monday night Cas had sounded disappointed, but understanding. The Tuesday, he’d sounded short on the phone, when Dean called to tell him. Cold and abrupt, to the point that Dean had actually been worried that he’d fucked things up, and Cas would change his mind, call everything off and demand his money back.
Also, he felt terrible about leaving Cas hanging two days in a row, when he really wanted to be with him so much more than he wanted to work fifteen days straight serving drinks to business men and college kids.
It turned out, Dean really didn’t have anything to worry about.
He was locking up on Tuesday night, closing out the cash and sending everyone home, getting ready to head into Pam’s office and work the books for the day, write down what Anna would need to order when she opened in the morning, when there was a knock at the front door.
Dean frowned, because it was after three in the morning, and they were very clearly closed, but he went out anyway, ready to tell whoever it was to come back tomorrow, but when he opened the door, he couldn’t help but smile.
The delivery guy, from Gino’s. Working two hours past closing time, and ten miles outside of his delivery zone. There was pepperoni on the whole thing, nothing green in sight, and there was a note taped to the box.
‘Miss you’ was written in Cas’ neat script.
Dean smiled and took the pizza into the office, finished off his paperwork while he ate. When he was done, both his work and the pizza, he brought the box to the recycling bin out back, and paused before he threw it in. Snatched the note off the cardboard and stuffed it into his pocket, smiling, and dumped the box in the bin.
And if Dean thought he missed Cas, he was going crazy to be able to spend a little time with brother again.
It was Friday night, and they’d made a date. They’d both taken the night off work (Sam was back to just the library, because now that school was back on, so was Dean’s old rule about Sam not working more than ten hours a week), and they were having supper together.
It was home-cooked, by Dean, because just because Cas was helping them out, didn’t mean the Winchester brothers weren’t going to work their asses off to save money, and be as independent as possible. Dean made steaks, baked potatoes and even threw in some asparagus, because he knew Sam would want something green.
There was even a bottle of wine, something Cas said was fancy, when he gave it to him a couple weeks back, even though Dean wouldn’t have known the difference, because this was a celebration.
Sam had finished his first week at fucking Stanford University, and Dean was almost as excited to hear all about it as Sam was to tell him.
It was only the first week, so it was pretty much just orientation so far. Mostly checking out his classrooms, getting shown around the libraries and the cafeterias, finding out all the cool used book stores near campus where he could buy his text books for half the price as at the school book store.
And there were the lame social events, like the outdoor concerts in the afternoon on campus lawns, and half-assed raves at nearby clubs. At least, Dean thought they were lame. Sam, by the way he told the stories of a few particularly drunk girls taking their tops off, and some guy he’d met, and bonded with instantly (Brady was his name, Dean thought Sam said) taking a pretty serious hit off some other guy’s bong, and then dancing around pantless for the next hour or so, loved them.
Dean found himself smiling along with Sam while he told him about the ‘freshman cruise’ around the bay two nights ago, where some kid had gotten so drunk he’d puked off the side of the boat, and he’d never been so sure of anything in his life, as he was that he’d made the right decision in accepting Cas’ offer.
“Sounds like a pretty heavy week,” Dean grinned, and re-filled their wine glasses. “Sure you’re gonna be able to handle actual classes next week?”
“Dean, I am so ready for this!” Sam beamed, and helped himself to a second steak. “Oh, and I didn’t even tell you the best part!”
‘What?” Dean asked, teasing. “You end up fucking that Brady kid in the chemistry room?”
“Dean, gross,” Sam said, pulling a face. “Well, okay,” he admitted, at Dean’s expectant look. “He’s hot, sure. But he’s totally straight. Besides, I met someone else I think might be interested in me.”
Dean laughed at the huge grin on Sam’s face. It fucking killed Dean how Sam got this excited every time he was about to start something up with a new guy. Everyone was interested in Sam. One of these days, the kid would catch on.
“So,” Dean said, and gestured at Sam with his fork. “Tell me about him.”
“Her,” Sam corrected, and blushed. It was fucking adorable.
Dean couldn’t have managed to hide his grin if the fate of the world was at stake. “A girl?! Oh, Sammy, you gotta tell me about this!”
“Her name’s Jess. And, before you go getting all excited, I’m not sure anything’s going to happen. I mean, she was definitely flirting and stuff, and she’s a really nice girl.”
“She hot?”
“Dean!”
“What?” Dean asked, innocently. “Just want to know if I should take her off your hands.” It wouldn’t be the first time. The total of twice that Sam had ever been interested in a girl, he hadn’t done much more than kiss her, maybe get under her sweater a bit, before he lost interest in favour of the hot new boy in his gym class or something, Dean had been more than happy to take advantage of those broken hearts.
His little brother might not know how to fuck chicks, but he was damn good at bringing home quality. Not that Dean had actually fucked either of them, because seventeen was a little young for his twenty-one, but fun had been had.
“No,” Sam said, not even bothering to shake his head. “Just… no, Dean.”
“Aww, what’s the matter, Sammy?” he teased. “Afraid of a little competition?”
“I’m serious, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean knew he was. The fact that he was effectively spoken for aside, Dean would never pull shit like that, never try to purposely hurt Sam in any way. “I mean, I don’t know if anything’s gonna happen, but it’s… You know. Maybe.”
“Maybe I should fuck her first,” Dean teased. “You know. Like a test drive. See if you’d be able to handle her.”
“God you’re an asshole. I like her,” Sam shrugged. “I’m just not sure if I’m gonna make a move yet, and the last thing I need is you hitting on her, okay?”
“Wow. I was only kidding around, Sammy,” Dean said. “I just… wow. I mean, she’s a girl, Sam.”
“And?”
“And you really like her?”
“Maybe,” Sam said sullenly, and shovelled some potato into his mouth. “I mean, I do. I’m not sure it’s anything…”
“Sexy?” Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Sam snorted, and shook his head. “Yes, Dean. Exactly.”
“Why not?”
“Uh… weren’t you the one who just said that she’s a girl?”
“And weren’t you the one who didn’t seem to have a problem with it? Come on, Sammy. I know you’re a big homo and all, but hey.” He grinned. “College is the time for experimentation.”
“Fuck you,” Sam shot back. “And hey, let’s not forget exactly which one of us in the epic homo relationship here.”
Dean had to give that to his brother, and cocked his head in acquiescence, smiling despite himself. He had no complaints as far as Cas went. Except of course for the fact that he was being paid, and Dean really didn’t go in for commitment.
“Anyway,” Sam continued. “I like girls and all. I just don’t know if I can have… a girlfriend. It seems like a lot of pressure. Girls are more… I dunno, high maintenance, I guess, than guys.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed, grinning. “But the sex more than makes up for it.”
“Dean, how would you even know?” Sam asked. “I mean, not about the sex thing, but… Sex has been pretty much all you’ve ever had. With girls and guys. Whenever it starts to get even a little bit serious, you bail. Even with chicks. I mean, Cas is pretty much the only relationship you’ve had. Ever.”
Sam ignored Dean’s scowl, and pushed just a little further. “Yeah, between the two of us, you’re definitely the homo,” he said, with a giant grin.
“Hey!”
“Well, it’s true. Three dates and then getting caught by your little brother during an inappropriate parting fuck six months later on the kitchen table doesn’t count as a relationship.”
Dean smiled, remembering. “Yeah, that was awesome,” he said, somewhat dreamily. Cassie had been fun. He’d kind of loved her, as much as he knew how at the time, but she hadn’t wanted to stick around, and Dean was mostly cool with that. Actually, it had sucked, big time, because she’d been the one person he’d let in, and then he’d turned out not to be good enough for her. He’d sucked it up the best he could though, moved on, and he was happy with how things turned out.
“God, you’re not gonna get all nostalgic and act it out or some shit, are you?”
“Dude, I know you haven’t gotten fucked in a while, but that’s kind of inappropriate.”
“God, Dean! Gross!”
Dean laughed and chewed his next bite of steak with his mouth open. “Whatever Sammy,” he said. “If you wanna stay gay, that’s up to you. But if this chick’s into you, I say you should hit that.”
“How do they resist your charm?” Sam asked, and Dean just smiled.
“They don’t.”
***
The following Monday, when Andy called Dean, begging him to cover his shift that night, because he had a seriously hot date that he just couldn’t miss, Dean flat out refused. He hadn’t seen Cas in a while, and they didn’t exactly have plans, but he knew Cas was probably expecting him. And Dean had been looking forward to seeing him all weekend.
“How was Sam’s first week?” Cas asked him, over a cup of coffee, while they sat out on the balcony, watching the sky fade to a deep, dark blue, after a breathtaking sunset.
“Good,” Dean answered, smiling a little, and leaned in to kiss Cas’ jaw. “Typical freshman week bullshit. He says ‘thanks’ by the way.”
“What did you tell him?” Cas asked, sounding surprised. “About where the money came from.”
Dean shrugged. “The truth, mostly. Told him you gave it to us. He uh… he thinks you’re my boyfriend.” Dean blushed and looked down, took a sip of his coffee.
“I’d like to be,” was Cas’ quiet reply.
“Cas. We talked about this, okay?”
“I know, Dean. And I still think you’re hiding from yourself. I wish I could change your mind, but it’s clear I can’t.”
Dean didn’t exactly believe that Cas was giving up that easily, but then again, that might have been because he didn’t exactly want Cas to give up that easily. Whatever. Things were good, they were having fun, and Dean was planning on enjoying himself, no emotional strings attached, for as long as he could.
“So hey,” Dean said, sliding a little closer to Cas, and draped his leg over top of one of Cas’, tilted so his chin was resting on Cas’ shoulder. “Wanna fuck?”
“Thank you,” Cas answered wryly, almost but not quite smiling. “No.”
“No? Seriously?”
“As hard as it may be for you conceive of someone actually turning you down,” Cas said. “I’m seriously saying ‘no’. I’d like to spend the night with you, but I’m not… in the mood… for sexual congress.”
“Well then what the hell are we supposed to do?”
Cas smiled, and pulled Dean close, kissed him, slowly and softly, making it clear that the kiss wasn’t meant to arouse, or to start anything. “This wouldn’t be the first time we were together without having sex, Dean. And you didn’t spontaneously combust those other times, either.” Cas’ thumb slid over Dean’s cheek bone, and he kissed him once more before standing up, offering a hand out for Dean, pulling him up as well.
“Trust me,” Cas said, whispering the words into the underside of Dean’s jaw. “We’ll have fun.”
Four hours later, Dean had to admit that Cas hadn’t been lying.
They’d ordered Italian, and Dean had gorged himself on ravioli and garlic bread, not even caring about his breath, because hey, he already knew he wasn’t getting lucky. Cas ate something with an olive oil sauce, and lot of vegetables, and didn’t care that Dean’s breath could repel vampires.
He kissed him anyway. A lot. And sometimes with tongue. Dean tried to push him away at first, but quickly gave in, because Cas didn’t seem to mind, and fuck, it was nice. It was nice to have someone that he could smell terrible around, and have then still want to kiss him, touch his ribs in that half tickly way, and wrap his arms around him as he played Guitar Hero for the eighth round.
After that, Dean managed to talk Cas into a couple of rounds of Rock Band, with Dean on guitar, and Cas on vocals. What was even more surprising than Cas agreeing to it, was that Cas seemed to know most of the songs that Dean chose.
He didn’t know if maybe Cas had a secret, fun-loving side to him, and he just hid the classic rock behind all the classical and easy listening on the CD shelf, or if maybe Cas had just been practising. Studying so he’d be able to keep up with Dean.
Either explanation was kind of a huge turn on.
And when he asked Cas, again, if he wanted to fuck, Cas still said no. And Dean didn’t really mind.
They tumbled into bed, half drunk and completely exhausted, at around three in the morning, and they made out, soft and lazy until they eventually fell asleep, wrapped around each other.
It was so, totally gay, and the weird thing was, if it wasn’t for the fucking money hanging over their heads, defining their entire relationship, Dean would have been happy.
***
Chapter 11
Pairings: Dean/Cas primarily. Others include SPOILERS, though I know some people like to be warned. Cas/Sam, Dean/Gabriel, Cas/OCs. References to Dean/OCs, Sam/OCs, Sam/Jess.
Summary: AU story, in which Castiel is a wealthy CEO suffering from a bad case of unrequited love, Gabriel is his dickhead brother, Sam is a happy and (mostly) well adjusted 18yo, and Dean is a high school drop-out working at a garage by day and a bar by night to support himself and his little brother.
***
Three days later Dean’s cell phone rang just as he was finishing up at Bobby’s, but he let it go to voicemail because his hands were covered in motor oil. That, and he was busy flirting with the man who’d come to pick up the Camaro Dean had spent months fixing up.
The guy was hot. Older though, even older than Cas, but in a distinguished way, not a creepy old man way, and he had a very obvious thing for mechanics. Dean played it up. Talked shop that was way over the guy’s head, and made sure to get himself a little dirtier than necessary when he was pointing out all the repairs he’d made under the hood.
Bent over a little too far sometimes, and brushed up a little too close to the guy when he walked around the car.
They guy was so fucking easy, played into Dean’s every move, licking his lips and directing his eyes exactly where and when Dean wanted them, got tongue tied when he was thanking Dean for his work, and had to try three different times to sound casual when he asked Dean out.
Dean didn’t really answer him either way, just told him he’d have to think about it, and pocketed the man’s business card. He seriously doubted he’d call. Oh, Dean was sure the guy would look good all spread out over the hood of his sweet new ride, ass in the air and panting out his orgasm while Dean fucked him. He just wasn’t so sure about the rules surrounding his new arrangement with Cas. And more than that, he just wasn’t sure if he was really interested.
The guy left with his car, and Dean thought briefly of calling just so he could see her again, and laughed at himself while he cleaned his hands, and checked his messages. The call had been from Cas, and the message was succinct. “Hello Dean. Please come to my apartment tonight.” Like Dean was on call, and would show up whenever Cas told him to. Ass.
But, he’d asked nicely. Said ‘please’ and everything, and it was one of his nights off anyway. Besides, it was probably best that they see each other sooner rather than later. Work out the new details, if there were any.
***
Castiel smiled to himself when he heard the front door open and close, and waited a few heartbeats for the sound of Dean’s voice.
“Cas?” Dean called out from down the hall, and Castiel crossed from the living room to the kitchen, to pour them some drinks.
“Here,” Cas answered. “Come in, Dean.”
A handful of seconds later Dean was standing behind him, and Cas turned, handing Dean one of the two frosted mugs of beer.
“Fancy,” Dean noted, holding up the mug. “Too good for bottles all of a sudden?”
Castiel smiled his most placating smile at Dean, and didn’t answer as he led him back into the living room, where they both sat down on the couch.
“So you accepted my offer,” Castiel said, and looked at Dean as he took a swallow from his glass, and licked the slight foam from his lips. He’d been terrified that Dean wouldn’t, that he’d end it for good, and while Castiel didn’t want to have to pay Dean off to stay with him, it was better than nothing.
“Yeah,” Dean choked out around his next swallow, and shifted uncomfortably. “So uh… what now?”
“Now… nothing changes. We keep dating - ”
“We were never dating,” Dean cut him off. “You took me out on two dates, and ever since then we mostly just get together for sex.”
“It’s always been more than sex, Dean,” Castiel told him, eyes intensely focused on Dean’s. “Almost from the start. But if you still refuse to see that, I can’t force you. In any case, we keep seeing each other. Same as we have been. And as I said, if you no longer want to continue the sexual aspect of our relationship, I will, um, adjust. But make no mistake, I want to be with you.”
“Cas, you…” Dean started, and Castiel knew that both of them were getting tired of this particular conversation, but for very different reasons. “You know this doesn’t mean we’re together right? I mean, yeah, I’ll still see you, and we’ll still fuck. Because hey, I ain’t gonna lie. The sex is pretty fantastic. But we’re not like… boyfriends, or anything. And we never will be.”
Castiel wasn’t so sure how accurate that was, but he didn’t say anything. Correcting Dean would likely only send him running. He knew he was already past the point of pretending that what he felt for Dean wasn’t entirely real, and very worth taking a risk on. He knew Dean’s feelings for him were there as well, if buried so deep that Dean was having a hard time recognising them, and he was still very much holding out hope that one day Dean would realise them, and not have to hide behind the money for his brother, as a reason for sticking around.
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed, Dean,” Castiel said, and placed his free hand on Dean’s knee. “But I won’t push.” Dean nodded, and Castiel’s hand slid up his thigh, fingers warming the denim of his inseam. He felt Dean shiver under him, and the younger man took a sip of his beer to cover it up.
“Relax, Dean,” Castiel whispered, leaning in close to Dean’s ear. “Nothing has changed since the last time, and nothing will. Not unless you want it to.” He kissed Dean’s neck, just below his ear and the soft rumble that came from Dean’s throat went straight to Castiel’s dick.
He would have loved to take advantage of it, but he was hungry, and he suspected Dean was as well. Also, he had a point to prove. A point that had nothing to do with sex, and was all about making sure Dean knew there was no pressure. Yes, Castiel had given him a lot of money. From Dean’s perspective, at any rate, but he honestly didn’t expect anything of Dean except his company, in exchange.
“Pizza?” Castiel offered, smiling, as he pulled back, and placed a soft peck on Dean’s lips.
“Cas, man,” Dean said, his voice strained, and he shifted his hips. When Castiel looked down he saw the significant bulge in the front of Dean’s pants. “You can’t just get the motor runnin’ like that and then offer it pizza.”
“I’m sure ‘little Dean’ will be just as enthusiastic on a full stomach,” Castiel quipped, and patted Dean’s leg once, before standing.
“Hey!” Dean barked, and stood up, following Castiel back into the kitchen, where he pulled the flyer for Gino’s, Dean’s favourite in the area, out of the take-out menu drawer. “Who you callin’ little?”
“And if you’re interested,” Castiel said, hiding a smile and ignoring Dean’s mock outrage. “I have the first two seasons of The Sopranos on DVD. That should keep us sufficiently entertained for a while.”
“You… what?” Dean asked, shaking his head, and looking like he didn’t even know where to start explaining how weird everything was.
“Gabriel left them here,” he explained. “I suspect on purpose, because he thinks it would be something that you’d be interested in. It’s almost as if he doesn’t think I’m capable of entertaining you on my own.”
“It’s a conspiracy, isn’t it?” Dean asked, looking kind of numb. “I’m never going to get laid again, and all because you, and apparently now your dickhead of a brother, think it’ll hurt my delicate little feelings if we fuck now that you’re paying me.”
“I think no such thing, Dean,” Castiel said, and he breathed an emotional sigh of relief. He had actually been worried that Dean wouldn’t be interested in the physical anymore, so he’d wanted a contingency plan. “I’m merely hungry. And offering you some entertainment while we eat.”
Castiel narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but picked up the telephone, dialling the number for Gino’s. Dean’s arms circled around his waist from behind just as the line was picked up on the other end, and Castiel had to suck in a sharp breath when Dean’s hand slid down, and cupped his half-hard dick through his pants.
“Yes,” Castiel said into the phone, clearing his throat, and elbowing Dean gently in the stomach. “Castiel Novak. Delivery please.”
“Trust me, baby,” Dean said, and he licked a wide stripe up the back of Castiel’s neck and gripped his hips tight in his hands, yanked him back at the same time Dean thrust forward, the outline of his erection pressing along the crease of Castiel’s ass. Castiel bit back a moan, but Dean had no such qualms. Gino’s nephew was likely getting one hell of an audio show. “Don’t think I could ever run out of entertainment with you around.”
Castiel jerked his head around and shot Dean a glare, his order to leave him the hell alone while he was on the telephone implicit.
“Pepperoni on half,” he said into the phone, because Dean liked it, but he didn’t. “Yes. Large.”
“Hmmm, I’ll say,” Dean mumbled behind his ear, and bit the shell gently, while slipping a hand inside the front of Castiel’s pants.
Castiel couldn’t hold back a slight moan this time, and the man on the other end of the phone actually laughed. Castiel scowled at both him and Dean, and Dean pushed even closer against his back, teasing him with soft rocking motions. “Spinach,” he said abruptly, and Dean pulled back, cocking his head. Good. “And broccoli.” Take that, Dean. “Yes, on the whole thing. Thank you.”
Dean growled and bit down hard on Castiel’s shoulder, and his eyes fluttered closed as he put the headset back down on the receiver. He took a breath and whirled around on Dean, opened his mouth to chastise him, but didn’t get the chance. Dean beat him to it.
“Spinach?!” he asked, incredulous.
“Don’t forget the broccoli,” Castiel smiled.
“I’m not eating that shit.”
“Then you’ll go hungry,” Castiel told him simply, with a shrug. But he knew Dean better than that. He’d eat just about anything. He’d complain the whole way through, even if he liked it, on principle, but he’d eat it.
Dean smirked, and turned Castiel the rest of the way around. Pushed him back against the wall, and his hands went straight for Castiel’s crotch. One hand cupped his dick and the other deftly unfastened the top button of the jeans that Dean liked on him so much.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dean drawled, and slid the zipper down, reaching inside Castiel’s underwear to take him out. He pumped him a few times until he was fully hard, and almost boneless, counting on the wall to support him. “I can think of something that might fill me up.”
“Yes,” Castiel said, granting permission, and Dean sunk to his knees. “But slowly,” he warned, before Dean’s lips had even touched his shaft. “I don’t want to come until I hear the doorbell ring.”
Dean shrugged, and grinned up at him, licked those sinfully delicious lips of his. “You’re the anally-retentive control freak,” he said, with a shrug, before his mouth closed down around Castiel’s length.
***
Dean did perfectly, sucking Castiel down enthusiastically, but backing off at just the right moments to keep him on the edge, only having to be told once or twice over the course of the forty-five minutes to slow down, to ease up. He walked the line with Castiel with an expertise that was gained through experience, their time together, and the very second they heard the door buzz, signalling the arrival of their dinner, Dean’s mouth clamped down hard, and he sucked even harder.
Pulled Castiel’s hard length as far as he could down his throat and swallowed again and again, fingers coming up to brush over his balls and along his crack, and Castiel was coming. Like a white hot flash of lightening through his lower back and out his dick, blinding him in the process, he spilled down Dean’s willing throat, and when he was finished he gently pushed Dean back, tucked himself in, and very properly went to answer the door.
He was aware that his shirt was untucked, and the blissed out expression he was wearing, along with his swollen lips from where he’d been biting them for the past half hour, would probably give him away, but he hardly cared.
He paid the delivery man, along with a generous tip, and when he arrived back in the kitchen it was to find Dean rummaging through the cupboards, a bag of pretzels in one hand, a jar of that disgusting processed cheese product dip that Gabriel kept there in the other. There was popcorn popping away in the microwave, and a plate stacked high with Pop Tarts, as well as two newly opened beers, on the counter.
“How hungry are you?” Castiel asked, eyeing his bounty, and their pizza.
“Dude, I told you,” Dean said, looking at the pizza box with disgust, while Castiel retrieved two plates from the cabinet. “I’m not eating that shit.”
“Dean, a vegetable every once in a while won’t kill you,” Castiel said, looking at Dean like he was reasoning with a child. “In fact, it will have the opposite effect.”
“Christ,” Dean grumbled. “You sound like Sam. Fine. Gimme some of your garden pizza there.”
Castiel smiled and served them each two slices, as the microwave pinged. It was quite the balancing act to carry all their food into the entertainment room, but they managed.
They spent the next four hours watching television while they ate, and then quietly cleaned up together before they made their way to the bedroom.
They didn’t even fuck. Neither of them even gave any indication that they were interested. They just brushed their teeth, shared a chaste kiss, and fell asleep with their knuckles brushing together, and the sheet rucked up around their waists.
It had been a nice night.
Castiel wanted every night to be like this one.
***
Two weeks later, Sam started school.
Five days after that, Dean got together with his little brother for more than a minute and a half, for the first time in over two weeks.
Dean had been busy working his two jobs, and trying to fit Cas in wherever he could, which wasn’t much. Not as much as he would have liked, anyway, and not as much as Cas liked either. He’d only even been able to spend one night over the last two weeks with Cas, having to fill in the Monday and Tuesday of this past week at Jesse’s for Max, who’d called in sick.
The Monday night Cas had sounded disappointed, but understanding. The Tuesday, he’d sounded short on the phone, when Dean called to tell him. Cold and abrupt, to the point that Dean had actually been worried that he’d fucked things up, and Cas would change his mind, call everything off and demand his money back.
Also, he felt terrible about leaving Cas hanging two days in a row, when he really wanted to be with him so much more than he wanted to work fifteen days straight serving drinks to business men and college kids.
It turned out, Dean really didn’t have anything to worry about.
He was locking up on Tuesday night, closing out the cash and sending everyone home, getting ready to head into Pam’s office and work the books for the day, write down what Anna would need to order when she opened in the morning, when there was a knock at the front door.
Dean frowned, because it was after three in the morning, and they were very clearly closed, but he went out anyway, ready to tell whoever it was to come back tomorrow, but when he opened the door, he couldn’t help but smile.
The delivery guy, from Gino’s. Working two hours past closing time, and ten miles outside of his delivery zone. There was pepperoni on the whole thing, nothing green in sight, and there was a note taped to the box.
‘Miss you’ was written in Cas’ neat script.
Dean smiled and took the pizza into the office, finished off his paperwork while he ate. When he was done, both his work and the pizza, he brought the box to the recycling bin out back, and paused before he threw it in. Snatched the note off the cardboard and stuffed it into his pocket, smiling, and dumped the box in the bin.
And if Dean thought he missed Cas, he was going crazy to be able to spend a little time with brother again.
It was Friday night, and they’d made a date. They’d both taken the night off work (Sam was back to just the library, because now that school was back on, so was Dean’s old rule about Sam not working more than ten hours a week), and they were having supper together.
It was home-cooked, by Dean, because just because Cas was helping them out, didn’t mean the Winchester brothers weren’t going to work their asses off to save money, and be as independent as possible. Dean made steaks, baked potatoes and even threw in some asparagus, because he knew Sam would want something green.
There was even a bottle of wine, something Cas said was fancy, when he gave it to him a couple weeks back, even though Dean wouldn’t have known the difference, because this was a celebration.
Sam had finished his first week at fucking Stanford University, and Dean was almost as excited to hear all about it as Sam was to tell him.
It was only the first week, so it was pretty much just orientation so far. Mostly checking out his classrooms, getting shown around the libraries and the cafeterias, finding out all the cool used book stores near campus where he could buy his text books for half the price as at the school book store.
And there were the lame social events, like the outdoor concerts in the afternoon on campus lawns, and half-assed raves at nearby clubs. At least, Dean thought they were lame. Sam, by the way he told the stories of a few particularly drunk girls taking their tops off, and some guy he’d met, and bonded with instantly (Brady was his name, Dean thought Sam said) taking a pretty serious hit off some other guy’s bong, and then dancing around pantless for the next hour or so, loved them.
Dean found himself smiling along with Sam while he told him about the ‘freshman cruise’ around the bay two nights ago, where some kid had gotten so drunk he’d puked off the side of the boat, and he’d never been so sure of anything in his life, as he was that he’d made the right decision in accepting Cas’ offer.
“Sounds like a pretty heavy week,” Dean grinned, and re-filled their wine glasses. “Sure you’re gonna be able to handle actual classes next week?”
“Dean, I am so ready for this!” Sam beamed, and helped himself to a second steak. “Oh, and I didn’t even tell you the best part!”
‘What?” Dean asked, teasing. “You end up fucking that Brady kid in the chemistry room?”
“Dean, gross,” Sam said, pulling a face. “Well, okay,” he admitted, at Dean’s expectant look. “He’s hot, sure. But he’s totally straight. Besides, I met someone else I think might be interested in me.”
Dean laughed at the huge grin on Sam’s face. It fucking killed Dean how Sam got this excited every time he was about to start something up with a new guy. Everyone was interested in Sam. One of these days, the kid would catch on.
“So,” Dean said, and gestured at Sam with his fork. “Tell me about him.”
“Her,” Sam corrected, and blushed. It was fucking adorable.
Dean couldn’t have managed to hide his grin if the fate of the world was at stake. “A girl?! Oh, Sammy, you gotta tell me about this!”
“Her name’s Jess. And, before you go getting all excited, I’m not sure anything’s going to happen. I mean, she was definitely flirting and stuff, and she’s a really nice girl.”
“She hot?”
“Dean!”
“What?” Dean asked, innocently. “Just want to know if I should take her off your hands.” It wouldn’t be the first time. The total of twice that Sam had ever been interested in a girl, he hadn’t done much more than kiss her, maybe get under her sweater a bit, before he lost interest in favour of the hot new boy in his gym class or something, Dean had been more than happy to take advantage of those broken hearts.
His little brother might not know how to fuck chicks, but he was damn good at bringing home quality. Not that Dean had actually fucked either of them, because seventeen was a little young for his twenty-one, but fun had been had.
“No,” Sam said, not even bothering to shake his head. “Just… no, Dean.”
“Aww, what’s the matter, Sammy?” he teased. “Afraid of a little competition?”
“I’m serious, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean knew he was. The fact that he was effectively spoken for aside, Dean would never pull shit like that, never try to purposely hurt Sam in any way. “I mean, I don’t know if anything’s gonna happen, but it’s… You know. Maybe.”
“Maybe I should fuck her first,” Dean teased. “You know. Like a test drive. See if you’d be able to handle her.”
“God you’re an asshole. I like her,” Sam shrugged. “I’m just not sure if I’m gonna make a move yet, and the last thing I need is you hitting on her, okay?”
“Wow. I was only kidding around, Sammy,” Dean said. “I just… wow. I mean, she’s a girl, Sam.”
“And?”
“And you really like her?”
“Maybe,” Sam said sullenly, and shovelled some potato into his mouth. “I mean, I do. I’m not sure it’s anything…”
“Sexy?” Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Sam snorted, and shook his head. “Yes, Dean. Exactly.”
“Why not?”
“Uh… weren’t you the one who just said that she’s a girl?”
“And weren’t you the one who didn’t seem to have a problem with it? Come on, Sammy. I know you’re a big homo and all, but hey.” He grinned. “College is the time for experimentation.”
“Fuck you,” Sam shot back. “And hey, let’s not forget exactly which one of us in the epic homo relationship here.”
Dean had to give that to his brother, and cocked his head in acquiescence, smiling despite himself. He had no complaints as far as Cas went. Except of course for the fact that he was being paid, and Dean really didn’t go in for commitment.
“Anyway,” Sam continued. “I like girls and all. I just don’t know if I can have… a girlfriend. It seems like a lot of pressure. Girls are more… I dunno, high maintenance, I guess, than guys.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed, grinning. “But the sex more than makes up for it.”
“Dean, how would you even know?” Sam asked. “I mean, not about the sex thing, but… Sex has been pretty much all you’ve ever had. With girls and guys. Whenever it starts to get even a little bit serious, you bail. Even with chicks. I mean, Cas is pretty much the only relationship you’ve had. Ever.”
Sam ignored Dean’s scowl, and pushed just a little further. “Yeah, between the two of us, you’re definitely the homo,” he said, with a giant grin.
“Hey!”
“Well, it’s true. Three dates and then getting caught by your little brother during an inappropriate parting fuck six months later on the kitchen table doesn’t count as a relationship.”
Dean smiled, remembering. “Yeah, that was awesome,” he said, somewhat dreamily. Cassie had been fun. He’d kind of loved her, as much as he knew how at the time, but she hadn’t wanted to stick around, and Dean was mostly cool with that. Actually, it had sucked, big time, because she’d been the one person he’d let in, and then he’d turned out not to be good enough for her. He’d sucked it up the best he could though, moved on, and he was happy with how things turned out.
“God, you’re not gonna get all nostalgic and act it out or some shit, are you?”
“Dude, I know you haven’t gotten fucked in a while, but that’s kind of inappropriate.”
“God, Dean! Gross!”
Dean laughed and chewed his next bite of steak with his mouth open. “Whatever Sammy,” he said. “If you wanna stay gay, that’s up to you. But if this chick’s into you, I say you should hit that.”
“How do they resist your charm?” Sam asked, and Dean just smiled.
“They don’t.”
***
The following Monday, when Andy called Dean, begging him to cover his shift that night, because he had a seriously hot date that he just couldn’t miss, Dean flat out refused. He hadn’t seen Cas in a while, and they didn’t exactly have plans, but he knew Cas was probably expecting him. And Dean had been looking forward to seeing him all weekend.
“How was Sam’s first week?” Cas asked him, over a cup of coffee, while they sat out on the balcony, watching the sky fade to a deep, dark blue, after a breathtaking sunset.
“Good,” Dean answered, smiling a little, and leaned in to kiss Cas’ jaw. “Typical freshman week bullshit. He says ‘thanks’ by the way.”
“What did you tell him?” Cas asked, sounding surprised. “About where the money came from.”
Dean shrugged. “The truth, mostly. Told him you gave it to us. He uh… he thinks you’re my boyfriend.” Dean blushed and looked down, took a sip of his coffee.
“I’d like to be,” was Cas’ quiet reply.
“Cas. We talked about this, okay?”
“I know, Dean. And I still think you’re hiding from yourself. I wish I could change your mind, but it’s clear I can’t.”
Dean didn’t exactly believe that Cas was giving up that easily, but then again, that might have been because he didn’t exactly want Cas to give up that easily. Whatever. Things were good, they were having fun, and Dean was planning on enjoying himself, no emotional strings attached, for as long as he could.
“So hey,” Dean said, sliding a little closer to Cas, and draped his leg over top of one of Cas’, tilted so his chin was resting on Cas’ shoulder. “Wanna fuck?”
“Thank you,” Cas answered wryly, almost but not quite smiling. “No.”
“No? Seriously?”
“As hard as it may be for you conceive of someone actually turning you down,” Cas said. “I’m seriously saying ‘no’. I’d like to spend the night with you, but I’m not… in the mood… for sexual congress.”
“Well then what the hell are we supposed to do?”
Cas smiled, and pulled Dean close, kissed him, slowly and softly, making it clear that the kiss wasn’t meant to arouse, or to start anything. “This wouldn’t be the first time we were together without having sex, Dean. And you didn’t spontaneously combust those other times, either.” Cas’ thumb slid over Dean’s cheek bone, and he kissed him once more before standing up, offering a hand out for Dean, pulling him up as well.
“Trust me,” Cas said, whispering the words into the underside of Dean’s jaw. “We’ll have fun.”
Four hours later, Dean had to admit that Cas hadn’t been lying.
They’d ordered Italian, and Dean had gorged himself on ravioli and garlic bread, not even caring about his breath, because hey, he already knew he wasn’t getting lucky. Cas ate something with an olive oil sauce, and lot of vegetables, and didn’t care that Dean’s breath could repel vampires.
He kissed him anyway. A lot. And sometimes with tongue. Dean tried to push him away at first, but quickly gave in, because Cas didn’t seem to mind, and fuck, it was nice. It was nice to have someone that he could smell terrible around, and have then still want to kiss him, touch his ribs in that half tickly way, and wrap his arms around him as he played Guitar Hero for the eighth round.
After that, Dean managed to talk Cas into a couple of rounds of Rock Band, with Dean on guitar, and Cas on vocals. What was even more surprising than Cas agreeing to it, was that Cas seemed to know most of the songs that Dean chose.
He didn’t know if maybe Cas had a secret, fun-loving side to him, and he just hid the classic rock behind all the classical and easy listening on the CD shelf, or if maybe Cas had just been practising. Studying so he’d be able to keep up with Dean.
Either explanation was kind of a huge turn on.
And when he asked Cas, again, if he wanted to fuck, Cas still said no. And Dean didn’t really mind.
They tumbled into bed, half drunk and completely exhausted, at around three in the morning, and they made out, soft and lazy until they eventually fell asleep, wrapped around each other.
It was so, totally gay, and the weird thing was, if it wasn’t for the fucking money hanging over their heads, defining their entire relationship, Dean would have been happy.
***
Chapter 11
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Oh gosh dean is ANOYING! you r fukcing dating him damn it