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rockstarpeach at 04:47pm 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 04:47pm 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.
***
Dean breathed a sigh of relief when his bedroom door closed behind Cas, and he whirled back around to face his brother. “Look, Sammy, it ain’t like he’s payin’ me for sex, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It’s not? Then what’s it like, Dean? ‘Cause it looks a whole lot that’s exactly what he’s doing.”
“No,” Dean denied, then reconsidered, tilting his head. “Well, I mean. Yeah, I’m fucking him. But… that’s not what it’s about. He… God, this sounds so stupid.” He growled, and clenched his jaw.
“Ya think?”
“Fuck you. Just… I did it for you, you little shit. Least you could do is give me the fucking benefit of the doubt here.”
Sam sighed, and shook his head, gave Dean his annoyingly empathetic look. “Yeah, sorry. So please. Explain it to me, Dean.”
So, Dean explained. About how he was attracted to Cas, in a weirdly compelling way, from the moment he saw him. How he made Dean feel, off kilter and terrified and excited and horny as fucking hell. How it had been great for a while, even though Dean could have done without the expensive gifts. How Cas was funny, in his way, and made Dean smile.
How he called it quits when it got too serious, because that’s what Dean did, even though, like Sam said, Cas could have been good for him.
How he went back to him in the first place because he missed him, and stayed because of the money for Sam, but that Cas didn’t expect anything sexual as part of the deal. How Dean initiated sex way more than Cas did, and sometimes Cas even turned him down, because he just wanted to hang.
He told Sam how it was Dean who had made it clear that it wasn’t exclusive, over and over again, because he couldn’t handle anything that serious, even though Dean wasn’t sleeping with other people.
Finally he told him how a few days ago, Cas said that Dean could end it if he wanted. That he wouldn’t have to see him at all, and they could still keep the money. And about how it was too late by then anyway, because he’d already realised, that maybe just a little bit, he was really falling for Cas.
“Dean, are you… are you in love with him?”
“No,” Dean sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it is, Sammy, but there’s something about him. I just… I really like him. I want to be with him, maybe wish we could have something a little more real. I know, I know,” he held up a hand, and looked down, embarrassed. “It’s stupid, and it doesn’t make any sense, and things are so fucking weird between us because of everything that’s happened, and… And I can’t go near him lately without thinking about…”
He trailed off and gestured vaguely at Sam, whose face contorted into the most depressingly apologetic face Dean had ever seen.
“Fuck, Dean, I’m so sorry.”
“Would you stop apologising already? It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, but… shit, Dean I’ve never heard you talk like this about someone. Ever. And it fucking sucks that… well, it sucks.”
“Yeah,” Dean said with self-deprecating smile. “’Cause it’s hard to tell your sugar daddy that you’ve got a huge crush on him and want to live happily ever after. Especially after he just boned your brother.”
Sam’s face fell even more, and it looked like Dean had just ripped his heart out. Fuckin’ kid took everything too hard. “Dean…”
“Sam, forget it. It’s my fault anyway. I could have said something to him a long time ago, when I first started to actually feel something, but…” He shrugged.
Sam laughed a little at that. “Yeah, I know what you’re like. Still, he should have given you more time, should have been more patient. None of this is your fault, Dean. You’re an amazing catch, and if Cas is too much of a douche to see that, then it’s his problem.”
“God, don’t get all chick flick on me, Sammy.”
“Love you too, big brother,” Sam smiled, and Dean punched him lightly in the arm, before he motioned towards his bedroom.
“I should probably go make sure he’s not sniffing my underwear or some shit.”
“Yeah. But please, Dean, whatever you decide to do with him, don’t take any more of his money. Not for me. I won’t accept it. Not knowing what it’s already cost.”
“Sammy, we can’t afford to not take it. What the hell would we do?”
“Figure something out. It’s what we’ve always done.”
“Sam, there’s nothing to figure out. Either we take his money, or you quit school. And I ain’t lettin’ that happen.”
“Dean. Please.”
He sighed, and rubbed a hand through his hair. Well fuck. He knew Sam felt like shit, and he’d feel worse if Dean kept the money, but damn it, didn’t he see this was the only way? “Fine. Yeah. We’ll figure out something else.”
“Thank you.”
Dean nodded and turned. “Oh, and Dean?” Sam said, voice a little lighter, and when Dean turned back, there was slight but real smile on his face. “This might not be the best time to mention it, but I really wanted share this with you. I asked Jess out today. She said ‘yes’.”
“That’s great, Sammy,” Dean grinned back. “Finally gonna find out what pussy tastes like?”
“Ugh. Why do you have to go and ruin a perfectly good moment like that?” Sam asked in disgust, and Dean laughed.
“Seriously Sam, that’s great. Have to admit, I never really pictured you with a chick, but if she likes you as much as you seem to like her, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“Yeah well,” Sam smiled. “I figured at least one of us should be having some straight sex, and since you’re full-on queer now, I guess it’s my job.”
“Funny.”
They smiled at each other, and the smiles slowly faded. “We’ll be okay, Dean.”
“Shut up,” Dean mumbled, and walked to his bedroom, shouldered past Sam on the way. Cas had been sitting on his bed, and immediately stood when Dean pushed the door open, hands at his sides and looking ridiculously formal.
“Should I go?” he asked, fingers twitching in the material of his coat almost nervously.
Dean shrugged one shoulder, a seriously crappy attempt at carelessness. “You’re here,” he said. “Might as well stay.”
They fucked on Dean’s bed, awkward and almost perfunctory, in a way that sex between them had never been, and when they were done they fell asleep next to each other without a word. It was only nine o’clock.
***
The next morning, Sam was in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when he saw Cas sneak quietly out of Dean’s room, and walk down the hall, coat draped over one arm.
“Coffee?” he offered Cas’ back, and smiled to himself when the man startled, before turning around.
“Thank you, no. I need to be going.”
“One cup,” Sam said, already pouring it. “Dean still sleeping?”
“Uh, yes,” Cas answered, and made his way into the kitchen, taking the cup from Sam. “I didn’t want to wake him.”
Sam nodded. “Milk?” he asked. “Sugar?”
Cas shook his head. “Black is fine.”
Sam sipped at his drink and leaned against the counter, eyeing Cas carefully, studying him through slanted eyes.
“This isn’t necessary,” Cas said, after a full minute.
“What are you talking about?”
“This threatening, protective brother thing you’re trying for. It’s not necessary.”
Sam almost smiled. “All the same, I feel like I gotta say it. Don’t fuck my brother over again.”
“I’m finished with the games. I’m sorry for what I did. To him and to you.”
“And you better be. Because putting aside for the moment that I’m insulted as hell that I’m only good enough for a revenge fuck, you broke Dean’s friggin’ heart.”
“I’m aware,” Cas said. “All that is done. I’m in love with him, and he knows that. If he chooses to stay with me, I’ll do my best never to hurt him again. And if he doesn’t, I’ll let him go, completely.”
“Wait a second,” Sam said, confused. “If he stays? You guys didn’t, you know, talk last night?”
Cas gave a rueful smile. “Not so much.”
“But you… I mean, I heard you. You know…”
“Having sex? Yes. Well. With Dean and I that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
Sam grimaced. “Yeah.”
Another few minutes passed in silence, and Sam fought the urge to punch Cas in the face. The fucker would deserve it.
Eventually Cas broke the silence, by apparently reading Sam’s mind.
“Go ahead,” he said, “if it would make you feel better. Dean already hit me though, and I assure you, he packs one hell of a punch.”
Sam barked out a sharp, almost laughing sound. “Don’t I know it?”
“Sam I… I still want to help.”
“What?”
“With your tuition.”
“No fucking way.”
“I’m not asking for anything, Sam. And Dean doesn’t even have to be involved. It’s not a payment, it’s not a bribe. I just… I love Dean. And I like you. Seeing you get what you want will make Dean happy, and that’s all the reason I need.”
“Okay, that’s… fucked up,” Sam said. “But nice, I guess. Thanks. I’ll think about it, okay?” It was nice, and there was a huge part of him that was tempted to take it, knowing that it wouldn’t cost Dean anything, wouldn’t put him a situation that was unfair to him, but he probably wouldn’t. Cas was a first class asshole, and it would just be weird to take money from some dude he happened to have a one night stand with, and who was in love with his brother, who was probably going to dump his ass anyway.
And Sam just didn’t need that shit. Waiting a year or two to save up some money was a much better plan. Still, it was nice to know the offer was there.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Cas said, putting his empty mug down on the counter. “Goodbye, Sam.”
Sam just watched him go.
***
The following week, Dean still didn’t know how he was going to deal with everything, just knew that he was. He wanted Cas, plain and simple, and it was probably going to be rough, and ugly, possibly break his heart into a million pieces, but at this point, walking away was just not an option.
He sent him a text message Monday afternoon.
Busy tonight?
Not even a minute later he got a reply.
Hopefully.
Dean smiled, and asked Bobby to order some new jumper cables, turned his phone off, and got back to work.
It was just before eight when he got to Cas’ place, and Chuck waved him up with an impatient hand, not even looking up from his computer.
He opened the door and went inside, called Cas’ name and got no answer. He shrugged and took off his shoes and coat, wandered down the hall into the living room. Cas wasn’t there, but his shithead of a brother was.
“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked, stopping next to the couch where Gabriel was sitting, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand.
“Emergency at work,” Gabriel smiled. “Seems someone sent some people the wrong files, and one of our accounts got lost somewhere in a pornography-related computer crash. He should be there most of the night, trying to figure it out.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed at Gabriel’s shit-eating grin. “You?” Gabriel nodded. “Fucked shit up on purpose?” Another nod, and Dean huffed. “You’re the shittiest brother ever. Why does he put up with you?”
“Doesn’t have a choice, kiddo. That’s what brother means. You’ve gotta love them, take care of them, cover for them and even sell your ass for them, if it comes down to it. You should know all about that.”
“You’re a dick,” Dean told him, and sat down on the couch next to him.
“Yes, I am. But Cas already knows that. He’ll forgive me. Anyway, I wanted to score a little quality time with my new brother-in-law. Figured this was my best chance.”
“You don’t like me,” Dean said, and watched Gabriel fill up the empty glass that was sitting on the coffee table with the same whisky he was drinking, and pass it to Dean.
“Well, that’s a little harsh,” Gabriel said. “But you don’t like me much, yourself. We both like Cas though, and I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page here.”
“What page is that?” Dean asked, and took a large swallow from his cup.
“The page where if you hurt him, I’ll drop a piano on your head.”
“Excuse me?” Dean baulked. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but…”
“Yeah yeah,” Gabriel cut him off with a wave of his hand. “He’s a horrible cheater and he’s been paying to tap your ass.” He actually sounded bored by the whole thing, the fucker. “Fact is, Cas is loyal. Like, so loyal it hurts, kid. And he feels like shit about a lot of the stuff he’s done since he met you. Not that I know why.” He rolled his eyes, and refilled his glass. “I mean, he offered you everything, and you told him to stuff it.”
“He fucked. My brother,” Dean said, slowly, like maybe that was a concept that was beyond Gabriel’s moral comprehension.
“Yeah okay,” he sighed, like it was a huge concession. “Maybe that was going a bit far. But you’ve messed with him. For some seriously eff’d up reason, he loves you. A lot. I have no idea what he sees in you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong. You’re one fine piece of ass, Dean. In fact, I had to stop myself from nailing you into the wall the first time I saw you.”
“Like I would have let you anywhere near me.”
“But I didn’t,” Gabriel continued, ignoring Dean completely. “Because I love my idiot brother, and even back then, I could see that he thought you were something special. He still thinks that, and… if you don’t want him, if you don’t think you can get over your fucked up issues enough to actually give him a chance, then let him go, now.”
Gabriel was, like he’d said, a dick. So, on principle, Dean didn’t bother saying that he’d already made up his mind. It was none of Gabriel’s Goddamn business. Besides, he wasn’t even sure he was going to tell Cas today, or even any time soon. He was still really fucking bitter about what he’d done with Sam, and whatever the bottom line was, that was going to take a while for Dean to be okay with.
They didn’t say anything for a while, just finished their drinks, and Gabriel got up and went to the liquor cabinet, took out another bottle of scotch, the good stuff. The good stuff that was unopened, and it looked like Cas was saving, but with a mischievous grin Gabriel cracked it open, and poured them each a hefty serving.
“Should we be drinking this?” Dean asked. “It looks kind of… expensive.”
“Cas won’t mind. Well, okay, he will. But he’ll get over it.”
“You really are a douche,” Dean muttered, but clinked his glass against Gabriel’s anyway, when the man held it up, and knocked his drink back.
The idea of pissing Cas off felt better than it should, and it probably would for a while.
Five drinks later they were both sprawled back on the couch, sock feet kicked up on the coffee table, heads tilted back against the soft cushions. They’d just finished a lengthy conversation about Zeppelin’s D’yer Mak’er, and whether it was shitty because it was meant to be good, or good because it was meant to be shitty, and Dean was grudgingly finding that Gabriel wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.
“I like him, you know?” he said, slurring his words slightly, and watched another smooth trickle of liquid pour into his cup.
“Robert Plant? Yeah, I kinda figured you wanted to marry him. You’re not subtle.” He mock-whispered the last words like they some kind of funny secret.
“Idiot. Cas.”
Gabriel snorted, and it quickly turned into full laughter.
“Shut up. It’s weird. I didn’t think I would, and I just… I want him, but… I fucking hate him.”
“I have that same relationship with tequila.”
“I can’t… every time I look at him, or think about him, I just… it’s fuckin’ stupid, I know that. I’m the one that told him… but then he… my fuckin’ brother, man!” Shit, Dean really needed to stop getting drunk, and rambling about his hard-on for Cas, and how much of a dick he was.
Gabriel, the fucking asshole, just smirked at him. A drunken half-smirk that was a perfect fit for Dean’s drunken ability to see half-straight, and Dean did the only thing that made sense in his messed up, booze-addled brain.
He kissed him.
He knew even as he did it that he was going to regret it, but he didn’t care. He was drunk, and he was hurt, and he wanted to get past this shit with Cas. Even the fucking score or some bullshit, he didn’t even know, and then Gabriel was kissing him back.
And fucking hell, the little bastard could kiss.
Dean’s mind sort of fogged over, as the alcohol clouded what was left of his judgement, and all available blood rushed to his cock.
He put his drink down on the coffee table, most of it sloshing over the top of the glass, and it was going to make a sticky mess, but Dean didn’t care. That was Cas’ problem, and he was busy hating him right now, so the idea of him wiping up a hardened sticky mess of booze later on was oddly comforting.
He climbed on top of Gabriel, blearily pushing his tongue further into his mouth, and Gabriel let him. It was sloppy, and forceful, fuelled by alcohol and anger, and probably a fucked up apathy on Gabriel’s part, but he didn’t complain when Dean straddled his waist, and ground his growing erection down against his lap, feeling a matching hardening cock underneath him.
He pulled back after a few minutes, panting for air. Gabriel was still holding his glass, though it was empty, and it pissed Dean off for some reason. He grabbed it, tossed it on the floor and listened to the soft thud as it landed on the area rug, and rolled, and tried not to be pissed off that it hadn’t smashed to bits on the hardwood.
He grunted in frustration and Gabriel grinned at him, sly and knowing, and Dean’s eyes grew dark, his expression hard, and he leaned down again, kissed Gabriel through licks and bites and clawing fingers until they were both panting. Gabriel bucked up underneath him and Dean grabbed a handful of his hair, used it to tug him, smiled triumphantly as he cried out, and twisted him around.
Forced him back and down, so that he was lying on the couch, and carefully moved his own legs to that they were positioned between Gabriel’s, still rocking up hard against him, teeth biting a bright and brilliant mark into his collar bone, just under the loose collar of his t-shirt.
Again, Gabriel just let him, didn’t move to touch Dean beyond what Dean directly asked of him, through initiation of kisses, or the purposeful placement of Gabriel’s hands on his hips. That pissed Dean off too. Because Dean was awesome in bed. He knew that. Sometimes prided himself on it, and he was using some of his best moves here, even if they weren’t as well-delivered as they usually were, and Gabriel was giving him practically nothing.
He went for broke then, thinking of absolutely nothing but the need to prove himself to someone that he didn’t care about, and had not one iota of attraction towards, but hey. He was drunk. He moved a hand down Gabriel’s front, popped open his pants and worked the zipper, took him out and started pumping.
That got a reaction. Fucking finally. Gabriel whimpered, opened his mouth and threw his head back, pushed his hips up into Dean’s hand. That was more like it.
“Yeah, that’s it, Dean,” Gabriel said, and Dean ground down against him, rubbed his own cock against the hollow in Gabriel’s hip, clenched his hand tighter around his cock, and pulled. He was taunting Dean, Dean knew that, but the hitch in his breath told Dean he was enjoying it more than he was willing to let on. “Gonna fuck me right here? On Cas’ couch? Show my little brother he doesn’t own you?”
Dean growled, and bit Gabriel’s neck, hard, teeth digging into the skin, leaving marks that would easily shine red in a couple of minutes. “Shut up,” he said, and sucked a bruise over the skin he’d just marked. Jerked Gabriel faster and used his other hand to press against his chest, push him down into the couch, and rutted against him. “Just shut the fuck up.”
He didn’t want to hear Gabriel talk. Didn’t want to think about him, really, because what was happing here was so not about Gabriel. And he was right. It was completely, entirely, one hundred percent about Castiel.
And Dean hated the fact that the son of a bitch was still in control of everything Dean fucking did, even when he wasn’t around. Even when Dean had someone else’s cock in his hand, someone else’s body pressed down under his, willing and offered up.
And he could fuck him, too. Could fuck Cas’ brother through the fucking couch, and Gabriel would probably moan like a whore, all pretty and exaggerated, and they’d both know it was fake. They’d both know the reason for it. Dean just jerked him faster, closed his teeth down sharply on Gabriel’s neck, and rocked his hips.
“Mmmm, that’s it,” Gabriel purred. “Just like that. God, Cas wasn’t lying about your hands, Dean.”
Dean growled again and kissed him to shut him up, hard and bruising, and he nicked his lips on Gabriel’s tooth, ripped his mouth free when he tasted blood.
“Mmmm,” Gabriel groaned. “Or your mouth. Fuck.”
Fucking son of a bitch was still teasing him, because ultimately he didn’t want this any more than Dean did. Dean couldn’t figure out why Gabriel was even letting him, and that coupled with the taunts he was passing off as compliments, was pissing him the fuck off.
Dean clenched his hand tight in Gabriel’s hair, which he thought was a bit on the long side, and not entirely attractive, but whatever. It wasn’t his hair, and Gabriel wasn’t someone he had to look at every day and get hard over, and he yanked his head back, hard.
Gabriel winced and Dean grinned, feral, and licked a wet line from his collar bone to his ear. He bit down again, not quite over the first marks, so there would be plenty of reminders for Gabriel the next day, and sped up his hand on Gabriel’s cock. Licked his tongue across the teeth marks, and slid the pad of his thumb across the head of Gabriel’s cock, and the asshole finally fucking shut up.
His breathing turned shallow, hitched, and Dean had the vague thought that this had been really fucking fast before he gave a pained growl into the crook of Gabriel’s neck, and they were both coming, Gabriel over Dean’s fist, and Dean over the inside of his pants, cock pressed hard to the inside of Gabriel’s hip.
His orgasm took more out of him than he’d have liked, and he took a minute to breathe, hand still sticky and wrapped around Gabriel’s dick, forehead pressed to the side of his neck, and oddly, it was that, that tiny little thing, those few seconds of unguardedness, that felt like the biggest betrayal.
The second he had that thought, he wanted to get up, but then he’d have to face Gabriel, so he stayed where he was for just a little longer. It was Gabriel that eventually broke the silence. By being an asshole, obviously.
“That out of your system now, kid?” he asked, sounding completely collected and totally superior. Like he hadn’t just let his brother’s boyfriend grind down on him, and come all over his hand. “Feel better about yourself knowing that you’ve done something that’ll break his heart worse than he broke yours?”
Dean flinched at that, because Gabriel was pretty much reading his mind, playing back Dean’s intentions, and shoving them right in his face, and from this angle, they fucking sucked. He pushed off Gabriel and sat up, reached for the bottle on the table and poured himself another glass, downed the whole thing in one swallow.
“You’re his fucking brother, asshole,” Dean mumbled, instead of saying ‘no’. Because no, Dean didn’t feel better. Dean felt like shit. Dean felt like such shit, he was actually shaking with it, and this time, he just reached across the table and took a drink right from the bottle, forgoing the cup completely. Gabriel smirked at him, didn’t even bother to tuck his dick back in when he sat up, and took the bottle from his hands, helping himself to huge gulp.
Yeah, Cas fucked him over, and yeah, Cas hurt him. Cas was a fucking dick to him, and to Sam. But he was also kind of awesome, when he wanted to be. And he’d made Dean fall for him, hard. And it had fucked with Dean so much that he’d done something he never thought he’d do. He fucked around. He cheated. And he could use any excuse he liked, like Cas did it first, like they weren’t actually boyfriends, like they might have been on their way to breaking up anyway, whatever.
It was all bullshit. When it came right down to it, Dean and Cas were seeing each other, they had a relationship, however indefinable, and Dean had fucked someone else. That guy at Jesse’s a few days ago, and now, Cas’ fucking brother.
And it was… okay, if he was honest. The actual sex part anyway. Gabriel hadn’t exactly been a huge participant, and he was nowhere near as hot as Cas was, but sex was sex, and Dean was pretty much always a fan.
But it wasn’t Cas, and therefore, by something that had somewhere along the line become definition to Dean, to his body, and his heart, it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t Cas’ body under him, panting and moaning, wasn’t Cas’ lips he’d been kissing, wasn’t Cas’ cock throbbing and twitching and sliding through his hand, and it wasn’t Cas that he’d come over, and collapsed against.
And it was… it was better when it was. Dean had never been attracted to Gabriel, had never wanted him, not even for a second. And now, in this fucked up moment after, he was realising that he hadn’t wanted anybody else, not really, not since he’d met Cas. And he’d be happy to go on not wanting anybody else. He still had no idea how he was going to get over all his shit, but… but fuck.
Fucking fuck.
This… this thing he had, the way he felt… he had the sinking suspicion that it might be love. In fact, he was pretty sure it was, even though he’d never been in love with anyone before. Went out of his way to avoid it, in fact. But yeah, if he was ever to fall in love, it might be something like this.
He liked Cas best. Liked fucking him best, and liked watching him wake up, blink sleep out of his eyes and smile, kiss Dean good morning and make them coffee. Liked kicking his ass at Gran Turismo, and making him sit through movies he hated. Liked how Cas looked at him, like he was the only thing in the world, like he was amazing and sexy and something to be cherished.
Liked how Cas got so intense sometimes it made him nervous, and liked the sound of his voice when he whispered in his ear all the dirty things he wanted to do to Dean, or when he was chastising him for leaving dirty dishes on the table, or come-soaked underwear on the floor. Liked having supper with him at three in the morning, and passing out after they’d fucked in obscene and beautiful ways, liked the feeling of his body lax and his heart warm, Cas’ arms wrapped around him, sleepy and sated.
Shit, he even liked going days without hearing from him, weeks without seeing him, because the flutter he got in his chest when he finally did again was unlike anything else he’d ever felt.
And it just figured, that at a time like this, when he had someone else’s fucking come drying on his fingers and he was drunk and a half on his sort-of-boyfriend’s couch, that it would hit him, how he really felt. That it was here and now, that Dean Winchester would realise for the very first time, that he was in love.
And it sucked.
“You okay there, Champ?” Gabriel asked, and his voice sounded sort of far off, and if Dean wasn’t imagining things, actually concerned. Dean managed to shake his head, probably, and the room swam around him, and he barely had time to jump up off the couch and dart down the hallway to the closest bathroom before he was throwing up Cas’ whisky and Sam’s tuna casserole, stomach heaving and clenching, leaving his core muscles aching.
He didn’t know how long he was in there for, just sitting on the floor with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, feeling like he wanted to throw up just a little bit more. And it wasn’t the booze, and it wasn’t Sam’s cooking, although that was always suspect. He couldn’t fucking believe what he’d just done, and he was just about to get up, and get into the shower, wash away the sweat and the spit and the come and try to pretend it didn’t happen, when there was a soft knock, and the bathroom door opened.
“You look like hell,” Gabriel told him, and bent down to place a glass of water in his hand. Dean scowled at him, but drank some anyway, and he had to admit that it tasted fucking good. Got the taste of rancid fish and stomach acid and Gabriel’s saliva out of his mouth anyway, which was all kinds of awesome.
“Thanks,” he grunted, once he’d finished the whole cup, and passed it back to Gabriel.
“Look, I know you hate me right now,” Gabriel said, and Dean snorted and shook his head, because ‘hate’ was kind of an understatement. And ‘right now’ was being generous. “Go ahead and blame me all you like. But call this a lesson. A push. A guided tour into self-discovery. Just… get over yourself, get over my brother, and make a decision, one way or the other. If you feel this bad, imagine how he feels about what he did. I may be a giant jack-ass, but I love that stupid son of a bitch, and I’m not gonna sit around while you fuck with his emotions.”
“While I…” Dean breathed out, incredulous, and closed his eyes slowly, instead of finishing, feeling like he wanted to punch Gabriel in the mouth for his fucking audacity. Gabriel probably wouldn’t listen anyway. Sure as fuck didn’t care.
Dean stood then, needing to get out of there, right the fuck now, and he nearly tripped over Gabriel’s feet on his way out the bathroom door.
Decide. Yeah. The problem, Dean thought, as he crammed his feet into his boots and slung his jacket over his shoulders, was that he’d already decided. And he was fucked.
***
Chapter 15
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.
***
Dean breathed a sigh of relief when his bedroom door closed behind Cas, and he whirled back around to face his brother. “Look, Sammy, it ain’t like he’s payin’ me for sex, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It’s not? Then what’s it like, Dean? ‘Cause it looks a whole lot that’s exactly what he’s doing.”
“No,” Dean denied, then reconsidered, tilting his head. “Well, I mean. Yeah, I’m fucking him. But… that’s not what it’s about. He… God, this sounds so stupid.” He growled, and clenched his jaw.
“Ya think?”
“Fuck you. Just… I did it for you, you little shit. Least you could do is give me the fucking benefit of the doubt here.”
Sam sighed, and shook his head, gave Dean his annoyingly empathetic look. “Yeah, sorry. So please. Explain it to me, Dean.”
So, Dean explained. About how he was attracted to Cas, in a weirdly compelling way, from the moment he saw him. How he made Dean feel, off kilter and terrified and excited and horny as fucking hell. How it had been great for a while, even though Dean could have done without the expensive gifts. How Cas was funny, in his way, and made Dean smile.
How he called it quits when it got too serious, because that’s what Dean did, even though, like Sam said, Cas could have been good for him.
How he went back to him in the first place because he missed him, and stayed because of the money for Sam, but that Cas didn’t expect anything sexual as part of the deal. How Dean initiated sex way more than Cas did, and sometimes Cas even turned him down, because he just wanted to hang.
He told Sam how it was Dean who had made it clear that it wasn’t exclusive, over and over again, because he couldn’t handle anything that serious, even though Dean wasn’t sleeping with other people.
Finally he told him how a few days ago, Cas said that Dean could end it if he wanted. That he wouldn’t have to see him at all, and they could still keep the money. And about how it was too late by then anyway, because he’d already realised, that maybe just a little bit, he was really falling for Cas.
“Dean, are you… are you in love with him?”
“No,” Dean sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it is, Sammy, but there’s something about him. I just… I really like him. I want to be with him, maybe wish we could have something a little more real. I know, I know,” he held up a hand, and looked down, embarrassed. “It’s stupid, and it doesn’t make any sense, and things are so fucking weird between us because of everything that’s happened, and… And I can’t go near him lately without thinking about…”
He trailed off and gestured vaguely at Sam, whose face contorted into the most depressingly apologetic face Dean had ever seen.
“Fuck, Dean, I’m so sorry.”
“Would you stop apologising already? It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, but… shit, Dean I’ve never heard you talk like this about someone. Ever. And it fucking sucks that… well, it sucks.”
“Yeah,” Dean said with self-deprecating smile. “’Cause it’s hard to tell your sugar daddy that you’ve got a huge crush on him and want to live happily ever after. Especially after he just boned your brother.”
Sam’s face fell even more, and it looked like Dean had just ripped his heart out. Fuckin’ kid took everything too hard. “Dean…”
“Sam, forget it. It’s my fault anyway. I could have said something to him a long time ago, when I first started to actually feel something, but…” He shrugged.
Sam laughed a little at that. “Yeah, I know what you’re like. Still, he should have given you more time, should have been more patient. None of this is your fault, Dean. You’re an amazing catch, and if Cas is too much of a douche to see that, then it’s his problem.”
“God, don’t get all chick flick on me, Sammy.”
“Love you too, big brother,” Sam smiled, and Dean punched him lightly in the arm, before he motioned towards his bedroom.
“I should probably go make sure he’s not sniffing my underwear or some shit.”
“Yeah. But please, Dean, whatever you decide to do with him, don’t take any more of his money. Not for me. I won’t accept it. Not knowing what it’s already cost.”
“Sammy, we can’t afford to not take it. What the hell would we do?”
“Figure something out. It’s what we’ve always done.”
“Sam, there’s nothing to figure out. Either we take his money, or you quit school. And I ain’t lettin’ that happen.”
“Dean. Please.”
He sighed, and rubbed a hand through his hair. Well fuck. He knew Sam felt like shit, and he’d feel worse if Dean kept the money, but damn it, didn’t he see this was the only way? “Fine. Yeah. We’ll figure out something else.”
“Thank you.”
Dean nodded and turned. “Oh, and Dean?” Sam said, voice a little lighter, and when Dean turned back, there was slight but real smile on his face. “This might not be the best time to mention it, but I really wanted share this with you. I asked Jess out today. She said ‘yes’.”
“That’s great, Sammy,” Dean grinned back. “Finally gonna find out what pussy tastes like?”
“Ugh. Why do you have to go and ruin a perfectly good moment like that?” Sam asked in disgust, and Dean laughed.
“Seriously Sam, that’s great. Have to admit, I never really pictured you with a chick, but if she likes you as much as you seem to like her, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“Yeah well,” Sam smiled. “I figured at least one of us should be having some straight sex, and since you’re full-on queer now, I guess it’s my job.”
“Funny.”
They smiled at each other, and the smiles slowly faded. “We’ll be okay, Dean.”
“Shut up,” Dean mumbled, and walked to his bedroom, shouldered past Sam on the way. Cas had been sitting on his bed, and immediately stood when Dean pushed the door open, hands at his sides and looking ridiculously formal.
“Should I go?” he asked, fingers twitching in the material of his coat almost nervously.
Dean shrugged one shoulder, a seriously crappy attempt at carelessness. “You’re here,” he said. “Might as well stay.”
They fucked on Dean’s bed, awkward and almost perfunctory, in a way that sex between them had never been, and when they were done they fell asleep next to each other without a word. It was only nine o’clock.
***
The next morning, Sam was in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when he saw Cas sneak quietly out of Dean’s room, and walk down the hall, coat draped over one arm.
“Coffee?” he offered Cas’ back, and smiled to himself when the man startled, before turning around.
“Thank you, no. I need to be going.”
“One cup,” Sam said, already pouring it. “Dean still sleeping?”
“Uh, yes,” Cas answered, and made his way into the kitchen, taking the cup from Sam. “I didn’t want to wake him.”
Sam nodded. “Milk?” he asked. “Sugar?”
Cas shook his head. “Black is fine.”
Sam sipped at his drink and leaned against the counter, eyeing Cas carefully, studying him through slanted eyes.
“This isn’t necessary,” Cas said, after a full minute.
“What are you talking about?”
“This threatening, protective brother thing you’re trying for. It’s not necessary.”
Sam almost smiled. “All the same, I feel like I gotta say it. Don’t fuck my brother over again.”
“I’m finished with the games. I’m sorry for what I did. To him and to you.”
“And you better be. Because putting aside for the moment that I’m insulted as hell that I’m only good enough for a revenge fuck, you broke Dean’s friggin’ heart.”
“I’m aware,” Cas said. “All that is done. I’m in love with him, and he knows that. If he chooses to stay with me, I’ll do my best never to hurt him again. And if he doesn’t, I’ll let him go, completely.”
“Wait a second,” Sam said, confused. “If he stays? You guys didn’t, you know, talk last night?”
Cas gave a rueful smile. “Not so much.”
“But you… I mean, I heard you. You know…”
“Having sex? Yes. Well. With Dean and I that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
Sam grimaced. “Yeah.”
Another few minutes passed in silence, and Sam fought the urge to punch Cas in the face. The fucker would deserve it.
Eventually Cas broke the silence, by apparently reading Sam’s mind.
“Go ahead,” he said, “if it would make you feel better. Dean already hit me though, and I assure you, he packs one hell of a punch.”
Sam barked out a sharp, almost laughing sound. “Don’t I know it?”
“Sam I… I still want to help.”
“What?”
“With your tuition.”
“No fucking way.”
“I’m not asking for anything, Sam. And Dean doesn’t even have to be involved. It’s not a payment, it’s not a bribe. I just… I love Dean. And I like you. Seeing you get what you want will make Dean happy, and that’s all the reason I need.”
“Okay, that’s… fucked up,” Sam said. “But nice, I guess. Thanks. I’ll think about it, okay?” It was nice, and there was a huge part of him that was tempted to take it, knowing that it wouldn’t cost Dean anything, wouldn’t put him a situation that was unfair to him, but he probably wouldn’t. Cas was a first class asshole, and it would just be weird to take money from some dude he happened to have a one night stand with, and who was in love with his brother, who was probably going to dump his ass anyway.
And Sam just didn’t need that shit. Waiting a year or two to save up some money was a much better plan. Still, it was nice to know the offer was there.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Cas said, putting his empty mug down on the counter. “Goodbye, Sam.”
Sam just watched him go.
***
The following week, Dean still didn’t know how he was going to deal with everything, just knew that he was. He wanted Cas, plain and simple, and it was probably going to be rough, and ugly, possibly break his heart into a million pieces, but at this point, walking away was just not an option.
He sent him a text message Monday afternoon.
Busy tonight?
Not even a minute later he got a reply.
Hopefully.
Dean smiled, and asked Bobby to order some new jumper cables, turned his phone off, and got back to work.
It was just before eight when he got to Cas’ place, and Chuck waved him up with an impatient hand, not even looking up from his computer.
He opened the door and went inside, called Cas’ name and got no answer. He shrugged and took off his shoes and coat, wandered down the hall into the living room. Cas wasn’t there, but his shithead of a brother was.
“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked, stopping next to the couch where Gabriel was sitting, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand.
“Emergency at work,” Gabriel smiled. “Seems someone sent some people the wrong files, and one of our accounts got lost somewhere in a pornography-related computer crash. He should be there most of the night, trying to figure it out.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed at Gabriel’s shit-eating grin. “You?” Gabriel nodded. “Fucked shit up on purpose?” Another nod, and Dean huffed. “You’re the shittiest brother ever. Why does he put up with you?”
“Doesn’t have a choice, kiddo. That’s what brother means. You’ve gotta love them, take care of them, cover for them and even sell your ass for them, if it comes down to it. You should know all about that.”
“You’re a dick,” Dean told him, and sat down on the couch next to him.
“Yes, I am. But Cas already knows that. He’ll forgive me. Anyway, I wanted to score a little quality time with my new brother-in-law. Figured this was my best chance.”
“You don’t like me,” Dean said, and watched Gabriel fill up the empty glass that was sitting on the coffee table with the same whisky he was drinking, and pass it to Dean.
“Well, that’s a little harsh,” Gabriel said. “But you don’t like me much, yourself. We both like Cas though, and I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page here.”
“What page is that?” Dean asked, and took a large swallow from his cup.
“The page where if you hurt him, I’ll drop a piano on your head.”
“Excuse me?” Dean baulked. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but…”
“Yeah yeah,” Gabriel cut him off with a wave of his hand. “He’s a horrible cheater and he’s been paying to tap your ass.” He actually sounded bored by the whole thing, the fucker. “Fact is, Cas is loyal. Like, so loyal it hurts, kid. And he feels like shit about a lot of the stuff he’s done since he met you. Not that I know why.” He rolled his eyes, and refilled his glass. “I mean, he offered you everything, and you told him to stuff it.”
“He fucked. My brother,” Dean said, slowly, like maybe that was a concept that was beyond Gabriel’s moral comprehension.
“Yeah okay,” he sighed, like it was a huge concession. “Maybe that was going a bit far. But you’ve messed with him. For some seriously eff’d up reason, he loves you. A lot. I have no idea what he sees in you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong. You’re one fine piece of ass, Dean. In fact, I had to stop myself from nailing you into the wall the first time I saw you.”
“Like I would have let you anywhere near me.”
“But I didn’t,” Gabriel continued, ignoring Dean completely. “Because I love my idiot brother, and even back then, I could see that he thought you were something special. He still thinks that, and… if you don’t want him, if you don’t think you can get over your fucked up issues enough to actually give him a chance, then let him go, now.”
Gabriel was, like he’d said, a dick. So, on principle, Dean didn’t bother saying that he’d already made up his mind. It was none of Gabriel’s Goddamn business. Besides, he wasn’t even sure he was going to tell Cas today, or even any time soon. He was still really fucking bitter about what he’d done with Sam, and whatever the bottom line was, that was going to take a while for Dean to be okay with.
They didn’t say anything for a while, just finished their drinks, and Gabriel got up and went to the liquor cabinet, took out another bottle of scotch, the good stuff. The good stuff that was unopened, and it looked like Cas was saving, but with a mischievous grin Gabriel cracked it open, and poured them each a hefty serving.
“Should we be drinking this?” Dean asked. “It looks kind of… expensive.”
“Cas won’t mind. Well, okay, he will. But he’ll get over it.”
“You really are a douche,” Dean muttered, but clinked his glass against Gabriel’s anyway, when the man held it up, and knocked his drink back.
The idea of pissing Cas off felt better than it should, and it probably would for a while.
Five drinks later they were both sprawled back on the couch, sock feet kicked up on the coffee table, heads tilted back against the soft cushions. They’d just finished a lengthy conversation about Zeppelin’s D’yer Mak’er, and whether it was shitty because it was meant to be good, or good because it was meant to be shitty, and Dean was grudgingly finding that Gabriel wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.
“I like him, you know?” he said, slurring his words slightly, and watched another smooth trickle of liquid pour into his cup.
“Robert Plant? Yeah, I kinda figured you wanted to marry him. You’re not subtle.” He mock-whispered the last words like they some kind of funny secret.
“Idiot. Cas.”
Gabriel snorted, and it quickly turned into full laughter.
“Shut up. It’s weird. I didn’t think I would, and I just… I want him, but… I fucking hate him.”
“I have that same relationship with tequila.”
“I can’t… every time I look at him, or think about him, I just… it’s fuckin’ stupid, I know that. I’m the one that told him… but then he… my fuckin’ brother, man!” Shit, Dean really needed to stop getting drunk, and rambling about his hard-on for Cas, and how much of a dick he was.
Gabriel, the fucking asshole, just smirked at him. A drunken half-smirk that was a perfect fit for Dean’s drunken ability to see half-straight, and Dean did the only thing that made sense in his messed up, booze-addled brain.
He kissed him.
He knew even as he did it that he was going to regret it, but he didn’t care. He was drunk, and he was hurt, and he wanted to get past this shit with Cas. Even the fucking score or some bullshit, he didn’t even know, and then Gabriel was kissing him back.
And fucking hell, the little bastard could kiss.
Dean’s mind sort of fogged over, as the alcohol clouded what was left of his judgement, and all available blood rushed to his cock.
He put his drink down on the coffee table, most of it sloshing over the top of the glass, and it was going to make a sticky mess, but Dean didn’t care. That was Cas’ problem, and he was busy hating him right now, so the idea of him wiping up a hardened sticky mess of booze later on was oddly comforting.
He climbed on top of Gabriel, blearily pushing his tongue further into his mouth, and Gabriel let him. It was sloppy, and forceful, fuelled by alcohol and anger, and probably a fucked up apathy on Gabriel’s part, but he didn’t complain when Dean straddled his waist, and ground his growing erection down against his lap, feeling a matching hardening cock underneath him.
He pulled back after a few minutes, panting for air. Gabriel was still holding his glass, though it was empty, and it pissed Dean off for some reason. He grabbed it, tossed it on the floor and listened to the soft thud as it landed on the area rug, and rolled, and tried not to be pissed off that it hadn’t smashed to bits on the hardwood.
He grunted in frustration and Gabriel grinned at him, sly and knowing, and Dean’s eyes grew dark, his expression hard, and he leaned down again, kissed Gabriel through licks and bites and clawing fingers until they were both panting. Gabriel bucked up underneath him and Dean grabbed a handful of his hair, used it to tug him, smiled triumphantly as he cried out, and twisted him around.
Forced him back and down, so that he was lying on the couch, and carefully moved his own legs to that they were positioned between Gabriel’s, still rocking up hard against him, teeth biting a bright and brilliant mark into his collar bone, just under the loose collar of his t-shirt.
Again, Gabriel just let him, didn’t move to touch Dean beyond what Dean directly asked of him, through initiation of kisses, or the purposeful placement of Gabriel’s hands on his hips. That pissed Dean off too. Because Dean was awesome in bed. He knew that. Sometimes prided himself on it, and he was using some of his best moves here, even if they weren’t as well-delivered as they usually were, and Gabriel was giving him practically nothing.
He went for broke then, thinking of absolutely nothing but the need to prove himself to someone that he didn’t care about, and had not one iota of attraction towards, but hey. He was drunk. He moved a hand down Gabriel’s front, popped open his pants and worked the zipper, took him out and started pumping.
That got a reaction. Fucking finally. Gabriel whimpered, opened his mouth and threw his head back, pushed his hips up into Dean’s hand. That was more like it.
“Yeah, that’s it, Dean,” Gabriel said, and Dean ground down against him, rubbed his own cock against the hollow in Gabriel’s hip, clenched his hand tighter around his cock, and pulled. He was taunting Dean, Dean knew that, but the hitch in his breath told Dean he was enjoying it more than he was willing to let on. “Gonna fuck me right here? On Cas’ couch? Show my little brother he doesn’t own you?”
Dean growled, and bit Gabriel’s neck, hard, teeth digging into the skin, leaving marks that would easily shine red in a couple of minutes. “Shut up,” he said, and sucked a bruise over the skin he’d just marked. Jerked Gabriel faster and used his other hand to press against his chest, push him down into the couch, and rutted against him. “Just shut the fuck up.”
He didn’t want to hear Gabriel talk. Didn’t want to think about him, really, because what was happing here was so not about Gabriel. And he was right. It was completely, entirely, one hundred percent about Castiel.
And Dean hated the fact that the son of a bitch was still in control of everything Dean fucking did, even when he wasn’t around. Even when Dean had someone else’s cock in his hand, someone else’s body pressed down under his, willing and offered up.
And he could fuck him, too. Could fuck Cas’ brother through the fucking couch, and Gabriel would probably moan like a whore, all pretty and exaggerated, and they’d both know it was fake. They’d both know the reason for it. Dean just jerked him faster, closed his teeth down sharply on Gabriel’s neck, and rocked his hips.
“Mmmm, that’s it,” Gabriel purred. “Just like that. God, Cas wasn’t lying about your hands, Dean.”
Dean growled again and kissed him to shut him up, hard and bruising, and he nicked his lips on Gabriel’s tooth, ripped his mouth free when he tasted blood.
“Mmmm,” Gabriel groaned. “Or your mouth. Fuck.”
Fucking son of a bitch was still teasing him, because ultimately he didn’t want this any more than Dean did. Dean couldn’t figure out why Gabriel was even letting him, and that coupled with the taunts he was passing off as compliments, was pissing him the fuck off.
Dean clenched his hand tight in Gabriel’s hair, which he thought was a bit on the long side, and not entirely attractive, but whatever. It wasn’t his hair, and Gabriel wasn’t someone he had to look at every day and get hard over, and he yanked his head back, hard.
Gabriel winced and Dean grinned, feral, and licked a wet line from his collar bone to his ear. He bit down again, not quite over the first marks, so there would be plenty of reminders for Gabriel the next day, and sped up his hand on Gabriel’s cock. Licked his tongue across the teeth marks, and slid the pad of his thumb across the head of Gabriel’s cock, and the asshole finally fucking shut up.
His breathing turned shallow, hitched, and Dean had the vague thought that this had been really fucking fast before he gave a pained growl into the crook of Gabriel’s neck, and they were both coming, Gabriel over Dean’s fist, and Dean over the inside of his pants, cock pressed hard to the inside of Gabriel’s hip.
His orgasm took more out of him than he’d have liked, and he took a minute to breathe, hand still sticky and wrapped around Gabriel’s dick, forehead pressed to the side of his neck, and oddly, it was that, that tiny little thing, those few seconds of unguardedness, that felt like the biggest betrayal.
The second he had that thought, he wanted to get up, but then he’d have to face Gabriel, so he stayed where he was for just a little longer. It was Gabriel that eventually broke the silence. By being an asshole, obviously.
“That out of your system now, kid?” he asked, sounding completely collected and totally superior. Like he hadn’t just let his brother’s boyfriend grind down on him, and come all over his hand. “Feel better about yourself knowing that you’ve done something that’ll break his heart worse than he broke yours?”
Dean flinched at that, because Gabriel was pretty much reading his mind, playing back Dean’s intentions, and shoving them right in his face, and from this angle, they fucking sucked. He pushed off Gabriel and sat up, reached for the bottle on the table and poured himself another glass, downed the whole thing in one swallow.
“You’re his fucking brother, asshole,” Dean mumbled, instead of saying ‘no’. Because no, Dean didn’t feel better. Dean felt like shit. Dean felt like such shit, he was actually shaking with it, and this time, he just reached across the table and took a drink right from the bottle, forgoing the cup completely. Gabriel smirked at him, didn’t even bother to tuck his dick back in when he sat up, and took the bottle from his hands, helping himself to huge gulp.
Yeah, Cas fucked him over, and yeah, Cas hurt him. Cas was a fucking dick to him, and to Sam. But he was also kind of awesome, when he wanted to be. And he’d made Dean fall for him, hard. And it had fucked with Dean so much that he’d done something he never thought he’d do. He fucked around. He cheated. And he could use any excuse he liked, like Cas did it first, like they weren’t actually boyfriends, like they might have been on their way to breaking up anyway, whatever.
It was all bullshit. When it came right down to it, Dean and Cas were seeing each other, they had a relationship, however indefinable, and Dean had fucked someone else. That guy at Jesse’s a few days ago, and now, Cas’ fucking brother.
And it was… okay, if he was honest. The actual sex part anyway. Gabriel hadn’t exactly been a huge participant, and he was nowhere near as hot as Cas was, but sex was sex, and Dean was pretty much always a fan.
But it wasn’t Cas, and therefore, by something that had somewhere along the line become definition to Dean, to his body, and his heart, it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t Cas’ body under him, panting and moaning, wasn’t Cas’ lips he’d been kissing, wasn’t Cas’ cock throbbing and twitching and sliding through his hand, and it wasn’t Cas that he’d come over, and collapsed against.
And it was… it was better when it was. Dean had never been attracted to Gabriel, had never wanted him, not even for a second. And now, in this fucked up moment after, he was realising that he hadn’t wanted anybody else, not really, not since he’d met Cas. And he’d be happy to go on not wanting anybody else. He still had no idea how he was going to get over all his shit, but… but fuck.
Fucking fuck.
This… this thing he had, the way he felt… he had the sinking suspicion that it might be love. In fact, he was pretty sure it was, even though he’d never been in love with anyone before. Went out of his way to avoid it, in fact. But yeah, if he was ever to fall in love, it might be something like this.
He liked Cas best. Liked fucking him best, and liked watching him wake up, blink sleep out of his eyes and smile, kiss Dean good morning and make them coffee. Liked kicking his ass at Gran Turismo, and making him sit through movies he hated. Liked how Cas looked at him, like he was the only thing in the world, like he was amazing and sexy and something to be cherished.
Liked how Cas got so intense sometimes it made him nervous, and liked the sound of his voice when he whispered in his ear all the dirty things he wanted to do to Dean, or when he was chastising him for leaving dirty dishes on the table, or come-soaked underwear on the floor. Liked having supper with him at three in the morning, and passing out after they’d fucked in obscene and beautiful ways, liked the feeling of his body lax and his heart warm, Cas’ arms wrapped around him, sleepy and sated.
Shit, he even liked going days without hearing from him, weeks without seeing him, because the flutter he got in his chest when he finally did again was unlike anything else he’d ever felt.
And it just figured, that at a time like this, when he had someone else’s fucking come drying on his fingers and he was drunk and a half on his sort-of-boyfriend’s couch, that it would hit him, how he really felt. That it was here and now, that Dean Winchester would realise for the very first time, that he was in love.
And it sucked.
“You okay there, Champ?” Gabriel asked, and his voice sounded sort of far off, and if Dean wasn’t imagining things, actually concerned. Dean managed to shake his head, probably, and the room swam around him, and he barely had time to jump up off the couch and dart down the hallway to the closest bathroom before he was throwing up Cas’ whisky and Sam’s tuna casserole, stomach heaving and clenching, leaving his core muscles aching.
He didn’t know how long he was in there for, just sitting on the floor with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, feeling like he wanted to throw up just a little bit more. And it wasn’t the booze, and it wasn’t Sam’s cooking, although that was always suspect. He couldn’t fucking believe what he’d just done, and he was just about to get up, and get into the shower, wash away the sweat and the spit and the come and try to pretend it didn’t happen, when there was a soft knock, and the bathroom door opened.
“You look like hell,” Gabriel told him, and bent down to place a glass of water in his hand. Dean scowled at him, but drank some anyway, and he had to admit that it tasted fucking good. Got the taste of rancid fish and stomach acid and Gabriel’s saliva out of his mouth anyway, which was all kinds of awesome.
“Thanks,” he grunted, once he’d finished the whole cup, and passed it back to Gabriel.
“Look, I know you hate me right now,” Gabriel said, and Dean snorted and shook his head, because ‘hate’ was kind of an understatement. And ‘right now’ was being generous. “Go ahead and blame me all you like. But call this a lesson. A push. A guided tour into self-discovery. Just… get over yourself, get over my brother, and make a decision, one way or the other. If you feel this bad, imagine how he feels about what he did. I may be a giant jack-ass, but I love that stupid son of a bitch, and I’m not gonna sit around while you fuck with his emotions.”
“While I…” Dean breathed out, incredulous, and closed his eyes slowly, instead of finishing, feeling like he wanted to punch Gabriel in the mouth for his fucking audacity. Gabriel probably wouldn’t listen anyway. Sure as fuck didn’t care.
Dean stood then, needing to get out of there, right the fuck now, and he nearly tripped over Gabriel’s feet on his way out the bathroom door.
Decide. Yeah. The problem, Dean thought, as he crammed his feet into his boots and slung his jacket over his shoulders, was that he’d already decided. And he was fucked.
***
Chapter 15
(no subject)
Great story! On to the next chapter! :D
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
“Shut up. It’s weird. I didn’t think I would, and I just… I want him, but… I fucking hate him.”
“I have that same relationship with tequila.”
THIS IS WHY GABE IS MADE OF WIN.
But FUCK! WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS?
God, they're both such idiots.
(no subject)
sleep. last chap tomorow