posted by ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rockstarpeach at 02:33pm on 18/01/2011 under character: castiel, character: dean winchester, fic - spn: shootin' you straight
rockstarpeach at 02:33pm on 18/01/2011 under character: castiel, character: dean winchester, fic - spn: shootin' you straightTitle: Shootin' You Straight (Epilogue)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rockstarpeach
Rating: Adult
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Cas, AU
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 40,400 total, 5,800 this chapter
Summary: Dean Winchester is in a band and Castiel is a fan. Not of the music, of Dean. An opportunity presents itself one night after a concert and Castiel can't pass up the chance of a lifetime. It's not perfect, but this is their story.
A/N: Previous Parts here
They have their ups and downs.
***
When Dean’s not being flown from city to city or being chauffeured around in limousines, he drives a 1967 Chevy Impala that he rebuilt from essentially nothing after the wreck that killed his father and landed him and Sam in the hospital for nearly a week.
He drives it when he picks Castiel up for their first official date and Dean looks so proud of the thing, beams as he holds the passenger door open for Castiel. He coos at it, calls it ‘baby’ and glides his hand along the roof soothingly, like he’s worried it might be jealous. Castiel can’t hold back a smile.
“It’s a lovely car, Dean,” Castiel admits, when they pull up to the restaurant.
“Damn right she is,” Dean says with a nod and leads him inside.
It’s a steakhouse. A nice one, though it’s nothing overly romantic and Dean doesn’t act any different than Castiel thinks he would if he was there with Sam or Adam. He doesn’t hold out Castiel’s chair, doesn’t order for him, doesn’t hold his hand on top of the table or feed him bites of his pie or kiss him.
He does get them a table in a smaller, semi-private room towards the back of the restaurant and Dean smiles at him a little too much as they share a fine bottle of wine, but nobody looking at them would know they were on a date.
Castiel could have missed it himself, almost does, except for how Dean pays for everything and comes home with him after, follows him into his bedroom and they don’t leave it again for two days. Dean throws on a pair of pants to answer the door when Chinese and pizza show up, but that’s about it.
They eat that in the bedroom too, watch television naked while Dean fucks him doggy style and looks up every once in a while with some disparaging remarks about one of the football teams that are playing. It’s possible the game is important, but Dean’s not paying all that much attention and Castiel certainly isn’t.
They lie in each other’s arms, doze and talk about mundane things until they’re ready to go again. Dean takes his time, presses Castiel face down onto the bed with his hands pinned above his head, covers his body with his own and it’s nearly an hour before he brings them both off. Castiel is nearly incoherent by the end and he falls asleep happy with his head on Dean’s chest, while Dean watches a cheesy horror flick and runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair.
The two days they spend in bed are two of the best days of Castiel’s life. When Dean finally leaves, just as Gabriel shows up for Thai night, Dean doesn’t even hesitate as he kisses him goodbye. It isn’t exactly public, but he’s not hiding it, either. It’s slow and soft, one hand on the back of Castiel’s neck and the other on his hip as they stand in the open doorway and Gabriel and Mrs. Hawkins, Castiel’s nosey neighbour, stare blatantly at them.
“Bye Cas,” Dean says when he pulls back. Castiel is so breathless he can only nod. “Gabe,” Dean says to Gabriel on his way down the hall and he only winks at Mrs. Hawkins.
Castiel is so in love it hurts.
***
12 Gauge goes to a charity dinner for a state-run homeless shelter. Adam brings his girlfriend, Christian brings his wife, Sam brings Nick and Dean goes alone.
Castiel doesn’t even find out about it until he sees it on the local news and when he shows up at Dean’s house the next Friday night for the weekend they’d planned together, he asks him about it.
“You told me you weren’t going to hide.”
Okay, so maybe he more accuses than asks. Whatever. He’s got reason.
“I’m not,” Dean bristles, shifts from one foot to the other as he awkwardly hangs Castiel’s coat up in the closet. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about, Dean,” Castiel says and he’s glad that when he looks around, the house appears empty. “The dinner. You didn’t ask me.”
“You wanted me to?” Dean challenges. “Cas, you’ve made it pretty clear that you’re off-limits Monday to Friday.” That’s true, Castiel has. They live three hours apart and Castiel had been adamant that any meet-ups they have during the week take place in Clearwater, because Castiel has a job he’s not willing to sacrifice just because he has a wealthy boyfriend.
Still…
“This was a special occasion, Dean. You know I would have made an exception. You were just too afraid to show up with a man on your arm.”
Dean looks at him for a moment, jaw tight and eyes hard before he sags a little, walks into the kitchen and pulls two beers out of the fridge.
“I know,” he says, handing one to Castiel. “You’re right. I just… I’m not ready yet, Cas.”
“I wonder if you’ll ever be ready,” Castiel muses, as he cradles his bottle of beer to his chest.
They fuck that night, and the next. It’s rough, almost brutal as he pounds into Dean’s face so hard Dean chokes and sputters, coughs up Castiel’s come. Then Dean throws him down and pushes into him quick and dry, makes him bleed a little. They don’t actually talk much that weekend and it’s awkward, a little uncomfortable when Sam and Nick show up on Saturday and Castiel has to pretend he’s fine.
Dean pulls him aside on Sunday afternoon, before he can slip away. The other two are sprawled out in the living room watching some movie that Castiel has never seen, but Dean and Sam seem to know line by line, when Castiel tries to make his getaway. Dean follows him out onto the porch and stops him before he can get into his car.
“Cas, wait.”
“Dean, I need to go.”
“I know. I know you do. I just wanted to…” Dean takes three steps and the wooden boards under his feet creak. He reaches out and puts one hand firmly on Castiel’s cheek, pulls him in and presses a hesitant kiss to his lips. “You know I care about you. Right? You know that. And I know I suck at this. Just please, tell me we’re okay and you’re not gonna get all crazy and leave me again.”
He’s half smiling, but it’s forced and Castiel wants to reassure him, he really does.
“I love you, Dean,” he says. Those words have become so easy at this point. “But I won’t let you hide me forever.”
***
Castiel hasn’t told Dean when his birthday is.
That doesn’t stop Dean from showing up at his apartment on a Tuesday night and taking him out.
Dinner is nice, a fancy French place that Castiel has never been to before. Someone outside takes their picture as they walk through the door and Dean tenses briefly before he forces himself to relax, grabs Castiel’s hand as he greets the hostess. It’s a small step, but he knows that for Dean it’s huge. Castiel appreciates that.
After dinner Dean takes him, of all places, to a roller rink around the block from where Castiel lives. Dean has planned a party for him there, mostly because Gabriel told him that Castiel likes to roller skate, which he hadn’t known until just now is actually true. Gabriel and Anna are there, along with Balthazar and a few other friends from work, plus Sam and Nick and Adam.
They skate for a while, but when Castiel decides if he falls on his ass one more time he won’t be in any shape for the vigorous birthday sex he plans to have later, they agree to break for some drinks.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Dean whispers against his ear, after they’ve made their way off the rink and he’s pulled into a small alcove between lockers. Dean is pressing him against the wall as their skates slide precariously beneath them.
“Someone might see,” Castiel doesn’t quite protest. He angles his head so Dean can press in closer.
“Then you better hurry up and kiss me.”
Castiel can’t really argue with that.
***
When they’re alone, back at Castiel’s apartment and sitting on his living room couch, Dean gives him his present.
Castiel is looking down at a photo of a brand new, top of the line range, along with a delivery slip for two days from now. He’s smiling fondly when Dean palms his cheek and lifts his face.
“You like?” he asks. “I’m not trying to like, send you a message or anything, just… I know you like to cook, and your oven is a piece of crap and… Yeah.”
“Yes, Dean. I like it very much.” It’s not an overly personal gift, but it’s thoughtful enough. Castiel’s current oven is old, two of the elements are burnt out and last week it stopped heating up past 400 degrees.
“Good,” Dean says. He clears his throat, shifts around in his seat as he reaches into his pocket. “I uh… I have something else for you. If you don’t want it that’s fine, I won’t be offended, just… I wanted you to have it and…”
“Dean,” Castiel smiles. “What is it?”
Dean blushes beautifully and holds his fist out, places it over Castiel’s hand and when he pulls it back there’s a small, bronze key sitting in his palm.
“It’s a key,” Dean says, while he stares at Castiel’s knees.
“I can see that,” Castiel tells him. His chest feels tight, hope pushing hard against his ribs, though he doesn’t dare assume. Not until Dean tells him.
“It’s to the house. My house.” Castiel already has a drawer in Dean’s bedroom but this means so much more than that. “I want you to… I want you to be able to walk in on me when I’m dancing in the living room in my underwear, or when I’m burning lasagne, or when I’m watching Sam’s gay porn and pretending I don’t get off on it.”
“I hope you don’t do that when Sam’s in the room,” he jokes, but Dean doesn’t take the bait.
“I think we’re ready for that. Don’t you?”
Dean sounds so small, so hopeful that Castiel can’t resist climbing onto his lap, straddling his waist and kissing him, deep and desperate.
“Yes, Dean,” he says. He really hopes they are.
Two minutes later Dean has him bent over the back of the couch as they rut against each other, one of Dean’s hands on Castiel’s hip, the other wrapped around his cock.
Neither of them lasts long.
“Have you ever even put on a pair of roller skates in your life?” Dean asks, bending his knees and thrusting up hard at just the right angle. Castiel’s entire body tingles and he just barely manages to hold back his orgasm.
“Never,” he admits. “I’ve been skiing before. I’m not bad, but Gabriel is terrible at it. We should take him and Kali some weekend. We owe him.”
Dean comes then and he holds Castiel close, sucks a deep bruise into Castiel’s neck and he moans quietly. “Anything,” Dean breathes out. “We’ll do anything you want, Cas. God, I can’t believe...”
Dean’s grip on his cock tightens, the pace of his thrusts increase and he works Castiel through his orgasm so hard that Castiel knows he’ll feel it for days after.
***
A picture that someone managed to take of them kissing at Castiel’s birthday party ends up on the internet. Castiel calls Dean three times but Dean doesn’t call him back for four days. When he finally does, it’s to let Castiel know he’ll be out of town for a while, and he’ll call him when he gets back.
Dean sounds distant and Castiel worries that maybe it’s too much, maybe Dean won’t call him and this is it.
He’s glad that isn’t the case when a week and half later Dean sends him a text message.
I’m back. Friday?
***
It’s been two whole weeks since he’s seen Dean, since he’s even talked to him. Dean’s been away, with the band. They’ve had time set aside for interviews and TV spots, a kind of a post-tour wrap-up with the media.
Castiel catches Dean on the news and smiles.
He sees Dean in magazines and smiles.
He spots Dean’s picture in a cheap gossip rag in the checkout line at the grocery store and he nearly dies inside.
***
It’s Friday.
Dean hasn’t contacted him since the request to meet up, so Castiel gets in his car and makes the three hour drive as soon as work lets out that evening. He doesn’t bother packing. He’s got clothes at Dean’s house, a toothbrush in the bathroom. His soap in the shower, his favourite ice cream in the freezer and his peach jam in the pantry.
He’s got a newspaper in the passenger seat and he brings it with him when he lets himself into the house. Dean and Sam are in the kitchen, working their way through heaping bowlfuls of chilli when he walks through the door and Dean’s happy smile turns to a frown of confusion when Castiel slaps the paper down on the table next to Dean.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Castiel bites. Dean looks down at the table long enough to take in the picture on the front the ‘entertainment’ section. It’s a picture of Dean and Tessa, his arm is around her shoulders while she leans in close and presses a kiss to his neck, her hand yet again splayed over his stomach. There’s something about that pose, like her right to Dean is a given. It drives Castiel to madness. He smacks his hand on the table again and Dean flinches, then looks back up.
“You’re looking lovely this evening, darling?”
“Dean…” he says, and he’s glad that it comes out more warning than pleading.
Dean sighs deeply. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say that you’re not fucking her,” Castiel says bluntly and Sam nearly chokes.
“Dude, he’s not fucking her,” Sam denies. Dean grips Castiel’s wrist and pulls him down so he’s sitting next to him at the table.
“I’m not fucking her,” Dean confirms.
Castiel knows he’s not. He knows this, but when he opens his mouth what comes out is “Aren’t you?”
“Cas…”
“The article says that she’s your girlfriend. That the two of you have been spotted together several times. They even speculate that you’ll be married in the near future.”
“Well they’re wrong,” Dean insists. “You know… Fuck, Cas you know. Don’t you?”
Castiel wants to know. He even thinks he might, but he’s still too afraid to actually believe it.
“I’m just gonna…” Sam says after a moment, pushing back from the table and standing up.
“No, don’t,” Dean tells him and he stands up as well, pulling Castiel with him. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Sammy.”
Dean doesn’t bother looking at his brother as he drags Castiel down the hall and up the stairs.
“Does that… Does that really bother you?” Dean asks as he sits down on the edge of his bed while Castiel stands in front of him. “That picture?”
“The picture of you cheating on me? Yes, Dean. Believe or not, that does bother me.”
“Seriously Cas,” Dean sighs. Castiel is glad Dean’s chosen to ignore his little outburst and talk about this rationally. “You’re gonna have to get used to things like that if we’re gonna last. People are going to say plenty of shit about me that’s not true and you can’t let it get to you. I wasn’t cheating on you. I wasn’t, and you know that.”
“Then why was she kissing you?”
“She’s a friend.”
“A friend who you sleep with.”
“A friend who I’ve slept with. Past tense, Cas. She hangs out with us a lot and it’s been a while. We were just glad to see each other, that’s all. I promise. And you know I wouldn’t do that to you. Right?”
“Perhaps,” Castiel concedes, and he knows that Dean’s telling the truth. Dean wouldn’t lie to him, especially not about this, and not this early into their tentative monogamy. “But you didn’t do much to correct people’s misconceptions, did you? You wanted them to believe that you and she are an item.”
Dean’s silent for a moment.
“I hurt you,” he finally says.
“You hurt me,” Castiel agrees.
“I’ll be more careful. Let me make it up to you.”
Castiel lets him.
Dean sends him flowers every day the following week and takes him to Cancun for the weekend. He’s attentive, considerate and he doesn’t shy away from him in public.
They have devastatingly hot sex in a ridiculously large bed and Castiel is sated and happy when he gets home on Sunday night.
***
The drive to Lawrence is a pain in the ass on a Wednesday night after work and the drive back home at five the next morning is even worse.
The look on Dean’s face when Castiel surprises him with a case of beer, a pizza and one of his favourite movies is worth it, though.
They don’t even have sex that night, just fall asleep curled around each other on the couch, tipsy and full, and it’s one of the best nights Castiel can remember having in a while.
***
Castiel wakes up naked and spooned around Dean on a Sunday morning. He’s hard and his cock is nestled along the crack of Dean’s ass and the dream he’d been having about Brad Pitt fades into a pleasant fuzz as a much more pleasant reality rushes in. He pauses in his thrusting while he blinks fully awake, takes in a deep breath and squeezes his arm around Dean tighter.
Dean responds by letting out a nonsensical murmur and pushing back, working Castiel’s length more solidly between his cheeks. He’s asleep, Castiel knows that, so he takes advantage. Doesn’t go so far that he feels he’s violating Dean, just holds Dean close, rides the crevice of his ass and pretends.
His movements are slow, careful, but they’re already bringing him to the edge and he can feel Dean’s own erection bumping against his arm where it’s circling Dean’s middle. He presses a soft kiss to the nape of Dean’s neck and slowly lowers his hand, fingers gently curling around Dean’s hardness.
He pumps a few times and when Dean responds by rocking back and forth, sliding alternately against Castiel’s fist and his cock, Castiel picks up his pace. A few strong, sure strokes later Dean freezes, and Castiel knows he’s woken up – knows his fantasy has come to an end.
Castiel stops moving. He wants to keep going, wants to do more, but this is something they’ve never done, something he’s not even sure Dean wants. He doesn’t let go though, places an open-mouthed kiss to the knob of Dean’s spine and he almost cries when Dean lets out a soft breath and rolls away.
It’s okay, he tells himself. It really is. Castiel is more than happy with their sex life and if he never gets to be inside Dean that way, he really is fine with it.
Dean rolls even further, completely out of Castiel’s touch and he worries for a moment that he’s gone too far, that Dean will shut down. But then Dean reaches over to the nightstand, opens the drawer and pulls out a condom, rolls back and pushes it into Castiel’s hand.
“Do it,” Dean says quietly, without meeting his eyes.
Castiel must have heard him wrong. It’s the only explanation. Dean has never once given the impression that this is something he’s open to.
“Dean.”
“You want to, right?”
“Yes.” It’s not really a strong enough word, but it’s all he’s got.
Dean gives him a nervous looking smile at that, rubs his hand along Castiel’s arm.
“So, how do you want me?”
“Dean, you really don’t have to…”
“Cas, just… Fuck. Remember how you wanting things and not telling me about them almost broke us up once already?”
Castiel halfway returns Dean’s smile and says, “I vaguely recall, yes.”
“If there’s something you want, you have to let me know. If I can give it to you I will, but don’t you dare just assume that I can’t. Okay?”
“Yes, Dean.”
“Good,” Dean nods and spread his legs a little. “So just… Fuck me, Cas. I want you to.”
Castiel nods dumbly and blinks down at Dean as he rolls half on top of him. His hand trails down Dean’s side, over his hip and slides in between his legs. Dean’s breath hitches and he opens his legs a little further, lets Castiel’s hand slide back so that his fingers are working over Dean’s balls and behind.
“Lube,” Castiel whispers as he bucks up against Dean’s thigh, his dick sliding against Dean’s skin, leaving slick trails of fluid. “We need…”
Dean chuckles softly and extends his arm, pulls a tube of lubricant from the same place the condom had come from.
“Don’t be stingy with that shit,” Dean mock-warns, and Castiel smiles down at him as he squeezes a generous amount out onto his fingers.
“Seriously, Cas,” Dean says, hand cupping Castiel’s arm while Castiel’s slick fingers slide along Dean’s crack and circle his hole. “Go slow, okay? It’s been… a while.”
Castiel doesn’t bother asking again if Dean’s sure. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to stop right now if Dean told him ‘no’ so he takes Dean’s advice. Pushes one finger in slowly and watches while Dean closes his eyes, jerks his head back with his mouth open. It’s not pleasure, not pain either. It looks like Dean’s surprised, like he’s trying to figure out what exactly he’s supposed to be feeling.
The look intensifies, turns accepting and then discouraging as the finger works in further, twists around and is then joined by another. And another. Dean’s breathing heavily now, mumbling, his face pulled tight like he’s barely holding it together and Castiel almost does chicken out.
“Dean,” he says, crooking his fingers and watching Dean’s body tense and release as he hits his prostate. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Cas,” Dean warns, voice low and gruff, and the sheer need Castiel hears makes him fall in love all over again. “If you don’t get in me right now, I’m gonna kick your ass so hard.”
And then Castiel can’t help himself. He picks up the condom he’d dropped on the bed, opens it quickly and rolls it down over his cock. Pins Dean down and settles firmly over top of him, angling the tip of his erection at Dean’s entrance and starts to push.
Dean’s face scrunches up but Castiel presses in steadily, slow and unrelenting until he’s all the way in. He watches as Dean’s eyes clench shut and his body tenses up, knows it’s only going to be harder on him the tenser he is but Dean doesn’t tell him to stop so Castiel doesn’t.
He pulls back and pushes in again, still slowly, still letting Dean get used to him. Does it over and over again and eventually Dean starts to relax, starts to thrust up against him. Dean wraps his arms around Castiel, settles them over his back and presses kisses to the side of his neck, his jaw, his lips.
Castiel doesn’t think anything has ever felt better in his entire life. Dean is hot and tight and perfect around him and he wishes that it could last forever. There’s no way it will though. It’s possible he might come right now if Dean keeps clenching down on him like that and Castiel can’t help but cry out.
“Dean! Oh my God, Dean.”
“Okay,” Dean says, breathless. “This is okay.”
“You thought it wouldn’t be?”
Dean doesn’t answer that, just bucks up harder, loosens his muscles and shoves his tongue down Castiel’s throat.
“Touch me,” he pants, long minutes later. Castiel’s been riding that edge since the first push inside and he’s ready to burst. “Cas, come on. Jerk me off.”
Castiel does, takes him in hand and works him quickly, slows his thrusts and angles them so that he’s hitting Dean’s sweet spot every time. He manages, through sheer force of will, to hold off and let Dean come first. He looks beautiful when he does, eyes closed and head thrown back, fingers digging so hard into Castiel’s shoulders that they leave bruises as he shouts out a series of profanities, and Castiel follows shortly thereafter.
It’s wonderful. If he never gets to have Dean again, he thinks he can live the rest of his life in quiet contentment just remembering this moment.
“I love you,” he whispers as he pulls free, kisses Dean’s lips and slips the condom off. Dean gets up then and grabs the tissues off his dresser, winces slightly as he shifts and turns. Castiel kisses him again when Dean passes him the box after taking a few to wipe himself clean and then Dean pulls him back down to the bed.
“Holy fuck that was amazing,” Dean says eventually and Castiel nearly sighs with relief. “We are so doing that again. Maybe just...” He shifts and his face pulls tight again. “Not right now.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. It’s never been… you know, that great before.”
“Then why did you let me do it?” Castiel scolds, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t want Dean doing him any favours, not like this.
“Wow,” Dean says, scoffing and shaking his head. “You really are dumber than you look.”
“What are you…” Castiel starts but Dean cuts him off with a kiss and grabs his hand, pulls him up as Dean stands.
“Let’s head downstairs. I’m friggin’ starving.”
Castiel watches Dean slip into a pair of worn flannel pants before he pulls a pair of his own sweats from the dresser. He thinks he should really clear out a drawer in his own dresser for some of Dean’s things, maybe make some space in the bathroom and the kitchen cupboard.
Castiel follows Dean down to the kitchen, sits at the table across from Sam and Nick while Dean heads over to the fridge and pulls out some peanut butter and jelly.
“Have a good morning, guys?” Sam asks. His knowing grin makes Castiel realise that perhaps they were a bit louder than he’d thought.
“Dude,” Dean says to Sam as he slides four pieces of bread into the toaster. “Why didn’t you ever tell me taking it up the ass could be so awesome?”
Castiel goes beet red and Nick spits out his mouthful of Shreddies. Sam just rolls his eyes.
***
Castiel cheats on Dean three months in, unable somehow to believe that what they have is real. He’s testing himself with his actions just as much as he’s testing Dean, not only pushing, but breaking through the bounds of their new commitment to see if anything will be left when Dean finds out.
He can’t help it; he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He’s drunk when he does it, not that that’s much of an excuse, and he regrets it immediately. Hell, he regrets it during, but he doesn’t stop.
Dean’s away, booked on a half dozen more talk shows and Castiel hasn't spoken with him in a few days.
He’s watching David Letterman ask Dean about the rumours, whether Tessa is actually his girlfriend and what the story is behind those fuzzy photos of him making out with a man.
Dean laughs it off, doesn’t exactly answer, but assures David that he’s not gay and tells him that he and Tessa go way back. Castiel doesn’t know why he expected anything different. Doesn’t know why somewhere in the back of his mind he half-expected Dean to say ‘yes, actually, that guy in the picture is my boyfriend and no, I’m not gay exactly, but I do like dick’.
It just sounds very much like something Dean would say, only he wouldn’t say it on national television.
Castiel keeps watching and learns for the first time that Dean met Tessa in the hospital after the car accident, that she’s a nurse and she held his hand while he was in his coma and they’ve been close ever since.
No wonder Dean likes her so much.
He shuts off the television and goes to a bar, drinks an entire bottle of tequila, and fucks the first man that says ‘yes’ in the washroom. It’s so completely out of character for him and when he catches their reflection in the mirror he barely recognises himself.
He calls Gabriel to come pick him up and Gabriel brings him home, puts a glass of water and two Advil into his hands and doesn’t say a word.
When Dean gets back to Kansas he shows up at Castiel’s apartment even before he’s been back to his own house. He’s smiling and happy and it breaks Castiel’s heart worse than Dean’s when he tells him what he did.
He starts the conversation out so, so wrong but he can’t help mentioning the Letterman interview, can’t help asking why Dean didn’t just tell the truth.
“Because it’s nobody’s fucking business who I’m fucking!” Dean shouts, and Castiel’s eyes go wide as he jerks and takes a step back. “I didn’t lie, I didn’t tell them I was with Tessa. She’s a friend. That’s all I ever said she was.”
“I just wish…” he starts, and then trails off because he’s not even sure what he wishes. Is it really that important that people know about them? Yes, it would be nice. But is it worth losing Dean over? It’s not, he realises.
“I never lied,” Dean points out again, calmer now. “I never said those pictures with you were fakes. I just didn’t say exactly what you wanted to hear. Cas, we’ve talked about this. I’m doing the best I can, but if that’s not good enough…”
“I slept with somebody else,” Castiel says suddenly, surprising them both. Dean blinks and opens his mouth but nothing comes out. “I didn’t even ask his name. I was drunk and angry and the rest room was unoccupied and I’m… I’m sorry, Dean. So very sorry.”
He is sorry, more sorry than he’s ever been before but he doesn’t ask forgiveness. He knows Dean will give it eventually – Dean`s slept around enough that fucking a stranger in a bathroom probably isn’t that big a deal for him, and besides, he knows that Castiel loves him – but Castiel thinks he might not deserve it.
Dean purses his lips and his expression is carefully schooled. He turns and leaves without another word, closing the door quietly behind him.
Dean manages to get his picture taken in compromising positions with six different women in as many days. One of them is Tessa. Castiel stares at the computer screen for hours as some sick sort of punishment.
***
A week later, Dean’s waiting outside his door when he gets home from work. He looks just as wrung out as Castiel feels and Castiel hates himself. He did this. He didn’t have to, Dean has given him so much, tried so hard, and Castiel wonders why nothing seems to be enough for him. He wonders what will be.
“I’m sorry,” Dean says brokenly, choking back tears when they’re standing in Castiel’s living room.
Castiel can’t help but feel that he’s the one who should apologise. Again. It was his infidelity, after all, that drove Dean into the arms of so many others.
He’s glad Dean’s sorry though, so when he opens his mouth what comes out is, “Did you have sex with all of them?”
“Not all of them,” Dean denies, with a quick shake of his head.
“But some?”
“One. Not Tessa though, I swear,” he quickly amends. “I felt so bad for using the first one like that that I couldn’t do it again. The rest of them… it didn’t go very far.”
“You’ve used countless women before, Dean,” Castiel points out, because it’s true.
“But they were always using me for the same thing. I’ve never used someone for revenge before.”
“That’s what it was?”
“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean shouts and Castiel flinches back at the force of his voice. “Of course that’s what it was! And let’s not forget that you’re the one that stepped out on me here. I was... I was trying to hurt you. Show you that there’s always someone who wants me, even if it isn’t you. It was a low, shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry.”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Castiel says, even as he feels his heart splinter into pieces. It’s not for the best. He wants Dean more than he’s ever wanted anything and he wants them to be together but he’s just so scared.
“No,” Dean says, shaking his head. He reaches out and takes Castiel’s hand, pulls him closer. Castiel goes willingly and he watches with rapt fascination as Dean closes his eyes and sucks in a shaky breath.
“You can try to sabotage this all you want, because you think I’m not in it like you are, but you’re wrong. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Don’t you get it, man? You’re stuck with me. So just…” he breaks off for a beat, laughing a little crazily. “Get used to it.”
“After what I did…” Castiel says. “You still…”
“Cas, fuck,” Dean says, and steps even closer, brushes his nose along Castiel’s temple. “I fucking love you. I love you. And you love me. Do you even… Does that mean anything to you? Because to me it means I’m not letting you go. It means we fight for us, even when it’s hard. Even when you’re being an idiot and an asshole. Which you tend to do a lot of, by the way.”
“You…” Castiel starts quietly, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. He feels tears prick at his eyes but he swallows those down, too. “You love me?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“You never said.”
“I love you,” Dean says again, the words coming out in a garbled mess as he speaks them straight into Castiel’s mouth between a series of kisses. “I love you, Cas. I might be a bit of a jerk, and I might suck at this relationship thing, but you’re mine and I’m not letting you go and I love you.”
“Show me,” Castiel demands, tilting his head back and allowing Dean’s lips to close down over his throat.
“As long as it means I get to stop friggin’ talking about it,” Dean grumbles, then takes him by the hand and leads him into the bedroom.
Two hours later Castiel has no doubts in his mind.
***
The next day, he does get around to clearing out that drawer for Dean.
END
Author:
rockstarpeach Rating: Adult
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Cas, AU
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Word Count: 40,400 total, 5,800 this chapter
Summary: Dean Winchester is in a band and Castiel is a fan. Not of the music, of Dean. An opportunity presents itself one night after a concert and Castiel can't pass up the chance of a lifetime. It's not perfect, but this is their story.
A/N: Previous Parts here
They have their ups and downs.
***
When Dean’s not being flown from city to city or being chauffeured around in limousines, he drives a 1967 Chevy Impala that he rebuilt from essentially nothing after the wreck that killed his father and landed him and Sam in the hospital for nearly a week.
He drives it when he picks Castiel up for their first official date and Dean looks so proud of the thing, beams as he holds the passenger door open for Castiel. He coos at it, calls it ‘baby’ and glides his hand along the roof soothingly, like he’s worried it might be jealous. Castiel can’t hold back a smile.
“It’s a lovely car, Dean,” Castiel admits, when they pull up to the restaurant.
“Damn right she is,” Dean says with a nod and leads him inside.
It’s a steakhouse. A nice one, though it’s nothing overly romantic and Dean doesn’t act any different than Castiel thinks he would if he was there with Sam or Adam. He doesn’t hold out Castiel’s chair, doesn’t order for him, doesn’t hold his hand on top of the table or feed him bites of his pie or kiss him.
He does get them a table in a smaller, semi-private room towards the back of the restaurant and Dean smiles at him a little too much as they share a fine bottle of wine, but nobody looking at them would know they were on a date.
Castiel could have missed it himself, almost does, except for how Dean pays for everything and comes home with him after, follows him into his bedroom and they don’t leave it again for two days. Dean throws on a pair of pants to answer the door when Chinese and pizza show up, but that’s about it.
They eat that in the bedroom too, watch television naked while Dean fucks him doggy style and looks up every once in a while with some disparaging remarks about one of the football teams that are playing. It’s possible the game is important, but Dean’s not paying all that much attention and Castiel certainly isn’t.
They lie in each other’s arms, doze and talk about mundane things until they’re ready to go again. Dean takes his time, presses Castiel face down onto the bed with his hands pinned above his head, covers his body with his own and it’s nearly an hour before he brings them both off. Castiel is nearly incoherent by the end and he falls asleep happy with his head on Dean’s chest, while Dean watches a cheesy horror flick and runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair.
The two days they spend in bed are two of the best days of Castiel’s life. When Dean finally leaves, just as Gabriel shows up for Thai night, Dean doesn’t even hesitate as he kisses him goodbye. It isn’t exactly public, but he’s not hiding it, either. It’s slow and soft, one hand on the back of Castiel’s neck and the other on his hip as they stand in the open doorway and Gabriel and Mrs. Hawkins, Castiel’s nosey neighbour, stare blatantly at them.
“Bye Cas,” Dean says when he pulls back. Castiel is so breathless he can only nod. “Gabe,” Dean says to Gabriel on his way down the hall and he only winks at Mrs. Hawkins.
Castiel is so in love it hurts.
***
12 Gauge goes to a charity dinner for a state-run homeless shelter. Adam brings his girlfriend, Christian brings his wife, Sam brings Nick and Dean goes alone.
Castiel doesn’t even find out about it until he sees it on the local news and when he shows up at Dean’s house the next Friday night for the weekend they’d planned together, he asks him about it.
“You told me you weren’t going to hide.”
Okay, so maybe he more accuses than asks. Whatever. He’s got reason.
“I’m not,” Dean bristles, shifts from one foot to the other as he awkwardly hangs Castiel’s coat up in the closet. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about, Dean,” Castiel says and he’s glad that when he looks around, the house appears empty. “The dinner. You didn’t ask me.”
“You wanted me to?” Dean challenges. “Cas, you’ve made it pretty clear that you’re off-limits Monday to Friday.” That’s true, Castiel has. They live three hours apart and Castiel had been adamant that any meet-ups they have during the week take place in Clearwater, because Castiel has a job he’s not willing to sacrifice just because he has a wealthy boyfriend.
Still…
“This was a special occasion, Dean. You know I would have made an exception. You were just too afraid to show up with a man on your arm.”
Dean looks at him for a moment, jaw tight and eyes hard before he sags a little, walks into the kitchen and pulls two beers out of the fridge.
“I know,” he says, handing one to Castiel. “You’re right. I just… I’m not ready yet, Cas.”
“I wonder if you’ll ever be ready,” Castiel muses, as he cradles his bottle of beer to his chest.
They fuck that night, and the next. It’s rough, almost brutal as he pounds into Dean’s face so hard Dean chokes and sputters, coughs up Castiel’s come. Then Dean throws him down and pushes into him quick and dry, makes him bleed a little. They don’t actually talk much that weekend and it’s awkward, a little uncomfortable when Sam and Nick show up on Saturday and Castiel has to pretend he’s fine.
Dean pulls him aside on Sunday afternoon, before he can slip away. The other two are sprawled out in the living room watching some movie that Castiel has never seen, but Dean and Sam seem to know line by line, when Castiel tries to make his getaway. Dean follows him out onto the porch and stops him before he can get into his car.
“Cas, wait.”
“Dean, I need to go.”
“I know. I know you do. I just wanted to…” Dean takes three steps and the wooden boards under his feet creak. He reaches out and puts one hand firmly on Castiel’s cheek, pulls him in and presses a hesitant kiss to his lips. “You know I care about you. Right? You know that. And I know I suck at this. Just please, tell me we’re okay and you’re not gonna get all crazy and leave me again.”
He’s half smiling, but it’s forced and Castiel wants to reassure him, he really does.
“I love you, Dean,” he says. Those words have become so easy at this point. “But I won’t let you hide me forever.”
***
Castiel hasn’t told Dean when his birthday is.
That doesn’t stop Dean from showing up at his apartment on a Tuesday night and taking him out.
Dinner is nice, a fancy French place that Castiel has never been to before. Someone outside takes their picture as they walk through the door and Dean tenses briefly before he forces himself to relax, grabs Castiel’s hand as he greets the hostess. It’s a small step, but he knows that for Dean it’s huge. Castiel appreciates that.
After dinner Dean takes him, of all places, to a roller rink around the block from where Castiel lives. Dean has planned a party for him there, mostly because Gabriel told him that Castiel likes to roller skate, which he hadn’t known until just now is actually true. Gabriel and Anna are there, along with Balthazar and a few other friends from work, plus Sam and Nick and Adam.
They skate for a while, but when Castiel decides if he falls on his ass one more time he won’t be in any shape for the vigorous birthday sex he plans to have later, they agree to break for some drinks.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Dean whispers against his ear, after they’ve made their way off the rink and he’s pulled into a small alcove between lockers. Dean is pressing him against the wall as their skates slide precariously beneath them.
“Someone might see,” Castiel doesn’t quite protest. He angles his head so Dean can press in closer.
“Then you better hurry up and kiss me.”
Castiel can’t really argue with that.
***
When they’re alone, back at Castiel’s apartment and sitting on his living room couch, Dean gives him his present.
Castiel is looking down at a photo of a brand new, top of the line range, along with a delivery slip for two days from now. He’s smiling fondly when Dean palms his cheek and lifts his face.
“You like?” he asks. “I’m not trying to like, send you a message or anything, just… I know you like to cook, and your oven is a piece of crap and… Yeah.”
“Yes, Dean. I like it very much.” It’s not an overly personal gift, but it’s thoughtful enough. Castiel’s current oven is old, two of the elements are burnt out and last week it stopped heating up past 400 degrees.
“Good,” Dean says. He clears his throat, shifts around in his seat as he reaches into his pocket. “I uh… I have something else for you. If you don’t want it that’s fine, I won’t be offended, just… I wanted you to have it and…”
“Dean,” Castiel smiles. “What is it?”
Dean blushes beautifully and holds his fist out, places it over Castiel’s hand and when he pulls it back there’s a small, bronze key sitting in his palm.
“It’s a key,” Dean says, while he stares at Castiel’s knees.
“I can see that,” Castiel tells him. His chest feels tight, hope pushing hard against his ribs, though he doesn’t dare assume. Not until Dean tells him.
“It’s to the house. My house.” Castiel already has a drawer in Dean’s bedroom but this means so much more than that. “I want you to… I want you to be able to walk in on me when I’m dancing in the living room in my underwear, or when I’m burning lasagne, or when I’m watching Sam’s gay porn and pretending I don’t get off on it.”
“I hope you don’t do that when Sam’s in the room,” he jokes, but Dean doesn’t take the bait.
“I think we’re ready for that. Don’t you?”
Dean sounds so small, so hopeful that Castiel can’t resist climbing onto his lap, straddling his waist and kissing him, deep and desperate.
“Yes, Dean,” he says. He really hopes they are.
Two minutes later Dean has him bent over the back of the couch as they rut against each other, one of Dean’s hands on Castiel’s hip, the other wrapped around his cock.
Neither of them lasts long.
“Have you ever even put on a pair of roller skates in your life?” Dean asks, bending his knees and thrusting up hard at just the right angle. Castiel’s entire body tingles and he just barely manages to hold back his orgasm.
“Never,” he admits. “I’ve been skiing before. I’m not bad, but Gabriel is terrible at it. We should take him and Kali some weekend. We owe him.”
Dean comes then and he holds Castiel close, sucks a deep bruise into Castiel’s neck and he moans quietly. “Anything,” Dean breathes out. “We’ll do anything you want, Cas. God, I can’t believe...”
Dean’s grip on his cock tightens, the pace of his thrusts increase and he works Castiel through his orgasm so hard that Castiel knows he’ll feel it for days after.
***
A picture that someone managed to take of them kissing at Castiel’s birthday party ends up on the internet. Castiel calls Dean three times but Dean doesn’t call him back for four days. When he finally does, it’s to let Castiel know he’ll be out of town for a while, and he’ll call him when he gets back.
Dean sounds distant and Castiel worries that maybe it’s too much, maybe Dean won’t call him and this is it.
He’s glad that isn’t the case when a week and half later Dean sends him a text message.
I’m back. Friday?
***
It’s been two whole weeks since he’s seen Dean, since he’s even talked to him. Dean’s been away, with the band. They’ve had time set aside for interviews and TV spots, a kind of a post-tour wrap-up with the media.
Castiel catches Dean on the news and smiles.
He sees Dean in magazines and smiles.
He spots Dean’s picture in a cheap gossip rag in the checkout line at the grocery store and he nearly dies inside.
***
It’s Friday.
Dean hasn’t contacted him since the request to meet up, so Castiel gets in his car and makes the three hour drive as soon as work lets out that evening. He doesn’t bother packing. He’s got clothes at Dean’s house, a toothbrush in the bathroom. His soap in the shower, his favourite ice cream in the freezer and his peach jam in the pantry.
He’s got a newspaper in the passenger seat and he brings it with him when he lets himself into the house. Dean and Sam are in the kitchen, working their way through heaping bowlfuls of chilli when he walks through the door and Dean’s happy smile turns to a frown of confusion when Castiel slaps the paper down on the table next to Dean.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Castiel bites. Dean looks down at the table long enough to take in the picture on the front the ‘entertainment’ section. It’s a picture of Dean and Tessa, his arm is around her shoulders while she leans in close and presses a kiss to his neck, her hand yet again splayed over his stomach. There’s something about that pose, like her right to Dean is a given. It drives Castiel to madness. He smacks his hand on the table again and Dean flinches, then looks back up.
“You’re looking lovely this evening, darling?”
“Dean…” he says, and he’s glad that it comes out more warning than pleading.
Dean sighs deeply. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say that you’re not fucking her,” Castiel says bluntly and Sam nearly chokes.
“Dude, he’s not fucking her,” Sam denies. Dean grips Castiel’s wrist and pulls him down so he’s sitting next to him at the table.
“I’m not fucking her,” Dean confirms.
Castiel knows he’s not. He knows this, but when he opens his mouth what comes out is “Aren’t you?”
“Cas…”
“The article says that she’s your girlfriend. That the two of you have been spotted together several times. They even speculate that you’ll be married in the near future.”
“Well they’re wrong,” Dean insists. “You know… Fuck, Cas you know. Don’t you?”
Castiel wants to know. He even thinks he might, but he’s still too afraid to actually believe it.
“I’m just gonna…” Sam says after a moment, pushing back from the table and standing up.
“No, don’t,” Dean tells him and he stands up as well, pulling Castiel with him. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Sammy.”
Dean doesn’t bother looking at his brother as he drags Castiel down the hall and up the stairs.
“Does that… Does that really bother you?” Dean asks as he sits down on the edge of his bed while Castiel stands in front of him. “That picture?”
“The picture of you cheating on me? Yes, Dean. Believe or not, that does bother me.”
“Seriously Cas,” Dean sighs. Castiel is glad Dean’s chosen to ignore his little outburst and talk about this rationally. “You’re gonna have to get used to things like that if we’re gonna last. People are going to say plenty of shit about me that’s not true and you can’t let it get to you. I wasn’t cheating on you. I wasn’t, and you know that.”
“Then why was she kissing you?”
“She’s a friend.”
“A friend who you sleep with.”
“A friend who I’ve slept with. Past tense, Cas. She hangs out with us a lot and it’s been a while. We were just glad to see each other, that’s all. I promise. And you know I wouldn’t do that to you. Right?”
“Perhaps,” Castiel concedes, and he knows that Dean’s telling the truth. Dean wouldn’t lie to him, especially not about this, and not this early into their tentative monogamy. “But you didn’t do much to correct people’s misconceptions, did you? You wanted them to believe that you and she are an item.”
Dean’s silent for a moment.
“I hurt you,” he finally says.
“You hurt me,” Castiel agrees.
“I’ll be more careful. Let me make it up to you.”
Castiel lets him.
Dean sends him flowers every day the following week and takes him to Cancun for the weekend. He’s attentive, considerate and he doesn’t shy away from him in public.
They have devastatingly hot sex in a ridiculously large bed and Castiel is sated and happy when he gets home on Sunday night.
***
The drive to Lawrence is a pain in the ass on a Wednesday night after work and the drive back home at five the next morning is even worse.
The look on Dean’s face when Castiel surprises him with a case of beer, a pizza and one of his favourite movies is worth it, though.
They don’t even have sex that night, just fall asleep curled around each other on the couch, tipsy and full, and it’s one of the best nights Castiel can remember having in a while.
***
Castiel wakes up naked and spooned around Dean on a Sunday morning. He’s hard and his cock is nestled along the crack of Dean’s ass and the dream he’d been having about Brad Pitt fades into a pleasant fuzz as a much more pleasant reality rushes in. He pauses in his thrusting while he blinks fully awake, takes in a deep breath and squeezes his arm around Dean tighter.
Dean responds by letting out a nonsensical murmur and pushing back, working Castiel’s length more solidly between his cheeks. He’s asleep, Castiel knows that, so he takes advantage. Doesn’t go so far that he feels he’s violating Dean, just holds Dean close, rides the crevice of his ass and pretends.
His movements are slow, careful, but they’re already bringing him to the edge and he can feel Dean’s own erection bumping against his arm where it’s circling Dean’s middle. He presses a soft kiss to the nape of Dean’s neck and slowly lowers his hand, fingers gently curling around Dean’s hardness.
He pumps a few times and when Dean responds by rocking back and forth, sliding alternately against Castiel’s fist and his cock, Castiel picks up his pace. A few strong, sure strokes later Dean freezes, and Castiel knows he’s woken up – knows his fantasy has come to an end.
Castiel stops moving. He wants to keep going, wants to do more, but this is something they’ve never done, something he’s not even sure Dean wants. He doesn’t let go though, places an open-mouthed kiss to the knob of Dean’s spine and he almost cries when Dean lets out a soft breath and rolls away.
It’s okay, he tells himself. It really is. Castiel is more than happy with their sex life and if he never gets to be inside Dean that way, he really is fine with it.
Dean rolls even further, completely out of Castiel’s touch and he worries for a moment that he’s gone too far, that Dean will shut down. But then Dean reaches over to the nightstand, opens the drawer and pulls out a condom, rolls back and pushes it into Castiel’s hand.
“Do it,” Dean says quietly, without meeting his eyes.
Castiel must have heard him wrong. It’s the only explanation. Dean has never once given the impression that this is something he’s open to.
“Dean.”
“You want to, right?”
“Yes.” It’s not really a strong enough word, but it’s all he’s got.
Dean gives him a nervous looking smile at that, rubs his hand along Castiel’s arm.
“So, how do you want me?”
“Dean, you really don’t have to…”
“Cas, just… Fuck. Remember how you wanting things and not telling me about them almost broke us up once already?”
Castiel halfway returns Dean’s smile and says, “I vaguely recall, yes.”
“If there’s something you want, you have to let me know. If I can give it to you I will, but don’t you dare just assume that I can’t. Okay?”
“Yes, Dean.”
“Good,” Dean nods and spread his legs a little. “So just… Fuck me, Cas. I want you to.”
Castiel nods dumbly and blinks down at Dean as he rolls half on top of him. His hand trails down Dean’s side, over his hip and slides in between his legs. Dean’s breath hitches and he opens his legs a little further, lets Castiel’s hand slide back so that his fingers are working over Dean’s balls and behind.
“Lube,” Castiel whispers as he bucks up against Dean’s thigh, his dick sliding against Dean’s skin, leaving slick trails of fluid. “We need…”
Dean chuckles softly and extends his arm, pulls a tube of lubricant from the same place the condom had come from.
“Don’t be stingy with that shit,” Dean mock-warns, and Castiel smiles down at him as he squeezes a generous amount out onto his fingers.
“Seriously, Cas,” Dean says, hand cupping Castiel’s arm while Castiel’s slick fingers slide along Dean’s crack and circle his hole. “Go slow, okay? It’s been… a while.”
Castiel doesn’t bother asking again if Dean’s sure. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to stop right now if Dean told him ‘no’ so he takes Dean’s advice. Pushes one finger in slowly and watches while Dean closes his eyes, jerks his head back with his mouth open. It’s not pleasure, not pain either. It looks like Dean’s surprised, like he’s trying to figure out what exactly he’s supposed to be feeling.
The look intensifies, turns accepting and then discouraging as the finger works in further, twists around and is then joined by another. And another. Dean’s breathing heavily now, mumbling, his face pulled tight like he’s barely holding it together and Castiel almost does chicken out.
“Dean,” he says, crooking his fingers and watching Dean’s body tense and release as he hits his prostate. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Cas,” Dean warns, voice low and gruff, and the sheer need Castiel hears makes him fall in love all over again. “If you don’t get in me right now, I’m gonna kick your ass so hard.”
And then Castiel can’t help himself. He picks up the condom he’d dropped on the bed, opens it quickly and rolls it down over his cock. Pins Dean down and settles firmly over top of him, angling the tip of his erection at Dean’s entrance and starts to push.
Dean’s face scrunches up but Castiel presses in steadily, slow and unrelenting until he’s all the way in. He watches as Dean’s eyes clench shut and his body tenses up, knows it’s only going to be harder on him the tenser he is but Dean doesn’t tell him to stop so Castiel doesn’t.
He pulls back and pushes in again, still slowly, still letting Dean get used to him. Does it over and over again and eventually Dean starts to relax, starts to thrust up against him. Dean wraps his arms around Castiel, settles them over his back and presses kisses to the side of his neck, his jaw, his lips.
Castiel doesn’t think anything has ever felt better in his entire life. Dean is hot and tight and perfect around him and he wishes that it could last forever. There’s no way it will though. It’s possible he might come right now if Dean keeps clenching down on him like that and Castiel can’t help but cry out.
“Dean! Oh my God, Dean.”
“Okay,” Dean says, breathless. “This is okay.”
“You thought it wouldn’t be?”
Dean doesn’t answer that, just bucks up harder, loosens his muscles and shoves his tongue down Castiel’s throat.
“Touch me,” he pants, long minutes later. Castiel’s been riding that edge since the first push inside and he’s ready to burst. “Cas, come on. Jerk me off.”
Castiel does, takes him in hand and works him quickly, slows his thrusts and angles them so that he’s hitting Dean’s sweet spot every time. He manages, through sheer force of will, to hold off and let Dean come first. He looks beautiful when he does, eyes closed and head thrown back, fingers digging so hard into Castiel’s shoulders that they leave bruises as he shouts out a series of profanities, and Castiel follows shortly thereafter.
It’s wonderful. If he never gets to have Dean again, he thinks he can live the rest of his life in quiet contentment just remembering this moment.
“I love you,” he whispers as he pulls free, kisses Dean’s lips and slips the condom off. Dean gets up then and grabs the tissues off his dresser, winces slightly as he shifts and turns. Castiel kisses him again when Dean passes him the box after taking a few to wipe himself clean and then Dean pulls him back down to the bed.
“Holy fuck that was amazing,” Dean says eventually and Castiel nearly sighs with relief. “We are so doing that again. Maybe just...” He shifts and his face pulls tight again. “Not right now.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. It’s never been… you know, that great before.”
“Then why did you let me do it?” Castiel scolds, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t want Dean doing him any favours, not like this.
“Wow,” Dean says, scoffing and shaking his head. “You really are dumber than you look.”
“What are you…” Castiel starts but Dean cuts him off with a kiss and grabs his hand, pulls him up as Dean stands.
“Let’s head downstairs. I’m friggin’ starving.”
Castiel watches Dean slip into a pair of worn flannel pants before he pulls a pair of his own sweats from the dresser. He thinks he should really clear out a drawer in his own dresser for some of Dean’s things, maybe make some space in the bathroom and the kitchen cupboard.
Castiel follows Dean down to the kitchen, sits at the table across from Sam and Nick while Dean heads over to the fridge and pulls out some peanut butter and jelly.
“Have a good morning, guys?” Sam asks. His knowing grin makes Castiel realise that perhaps they were a bit louder than he’d thought.
“Dude,” Dean says to Sam as he slides four pieces of bread into the toaster. “Why didn’t you ever tell me taking it up the ass could be so awesome?”
Castiel goes beet red and Nick spits out his mouthful of Shreddies. Sam just rolls his eyes.
***
Castiel cheats on Dean three months in, unable somehow to believe that what they have is real. He’s testing himself with his actions just as much as he’s testing Dean, not only pushing, but breaking through the bounds of their new commitment to see if anything will be left when Dean finds out.
He can’t help it; he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He’s drunk when he does it, not that that’s much of an excuse, and he regrets it immediately. Hell, he regrets it during, but he doesn’t stop.
Dean’s away, booked on a half dozen more talk shows and Castiel hasn't spoken with him in a few days.
He’s watching David Letterman ask Dean about the rumours, whether Tessa is actually his girlfriend and what the story is behind those fuzzy photos of him making out with a man.
Dean laughs it off, doesn’t exactly answer, but assures David that he’s not gay and tells him that he and Tessa go way back. Castiel doesn’t know why he expected anything different. Doesn’t know why somewhere in the back of his mind he half-expected Dean to say ‘yes, actually, that guy in the picture is my boyfriend and no, I’m not gay exactly, but I do like dick’.
It just sounds very much like something Dean would say, only he wouldn’t say it on national television.
Castiel keeps watching and learns for the first time that Dean met Tessa in the hospital after the car accident, that she’s a nurse and she held his hand while he was in his coma and they’ve been close ever since.
No wonder Dean likes her so much.
He shuts off the television and goes to a bar, drinks an entire bottle of tequila, and fucks the first man that says ‘yes’ in the washroom. It’s so completely out of character for him and when he catches their reflection in the mirror he barely recognises himself.
He calls Gabriel to come pick him up and Gabriel brings him home, puts a glass of water and two Advil into his hands and doesn’t say a word.
When Dean gets back to Kansas he shows up at Castiel’s apartment even before he’s been back to his own house. He’s smiling and happy and it breaks Castiel’s heart worse than Dean’s when he tells him what he did.
He starts the conversation out so, so wrong but he can’t help mentioning the Letterman interview, can’t help asking why Dean didn’t just tell the truth.
“Because it’s nobody’s fucking business who I’m fucking!” Dean shouts, and Castiel’s eyes go wide as he jerks and takes a step back. “I didn’t lie, I didn’t tell them I was with Tessa. She’s a friend. That’s all I ever said she was.”
“I just wish…” he starts, and then trails off because he’s not even sure what he wishes. Is it really that important that people know about them? Yes, it would be nice. But is it worth losing Dean over? It’s not, he realises.
“I never lied,” Dean points out again, calmer now. “I never said those pictures with you were fakes. I just didn’t say exactly what you wanted to hear. Cas, we’ve talked about this. I’m doing the best I can, but if that’s not good enough…”
“I slept with somebody else,” Castiel says suddenly, surprising them both. Dean blinks and opens his mouth but nothing comes out. “I didn’t even ask his name. I was drunk and angry and the rest room was unoccupied and I’m… I’m sorry, Dean. So very sorry.”
He is sorry, more sorry than he’s ever been before but he doesn’t ask forgiveness. He knows Dean will give it eventually – Dean`s slept around enough that fucking a stranger in a bathroom probably isn’t that big a deal for him, and besides, he knows that Castiel loves him – but Castiel thinks he might not deserve it.
Dean purses his lips and his expression is carefully schooled. He turns and leaves without another word, closing the door quietly behind him.
Dean manages to get his picture taken in compromising positions with six different women in as many days. One of them is Tessa. Castiel stares at the computer screen for hours as some sick sort of punishment.
***
A week later, Dean’s waiting outside his door when he gets home from work. He looks just as wrung out as Castiel feels and Castiel hates himself. He did this. He didn’t have to, Dean has given him so much, tried so hard, and Castiel wonders why nothing seems to be enough for him. He wonders what will be.
“I’m sorry,” Dean says brokenly, choking back tears when they’re standing in Castiel’s living room.
Castiel can’t help but feel that he’s the one who should apologise. Again. It was his infidelity, after all, that drove Dean into the arms of so many others.
He’s glad Dean’s sorry though, so when he opens his mouth what comes out is, “Did you have sex with all of them?”
“Not all of them,” Dean denies, with a quick shake of his head.
“But some?”
“One. Not Tessa though, I swear,” he quickly amends. “I felt so bad for using the first one like that that I couldn’t do it again. The rest of them… it didn’t go very far.”
“You’ve used countless women before, Dean,” Castiel points out, because it’s true.
“But they were always using me for the same thing. I’ve never used someone for revenge before.”
“That’s what it was?”
“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean shouts and Castiel flinches back at the force of his voice. “Of course that’s what it was! And let’s not forget that you’re the one that stepped out on me here. I was... I was trying to hurt you. Show you that there’s always someone who wants me, even if it isn’t you. It was a low, shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry.”
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Castiel says, even as he feels his heart splinter into pieces. It’s not for the best. He wants Dean more than he’s ever wanted anything and he wants them to be together but he’s just so scared.
“No,” Dean says, shaking his head. He reaches out and takes Castiel’s hand, pulls him closer. Castiel goes willingly and he watches with rapt fascination as Dean closes his eyes and sucks in a shaky breath.
“You can try to sabotage this all you want, because you think I’m not in it like you are, but you’re wrong. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Don’t you get it, man? You’re stuck with me. So just…” he breaks off for a beat, laughing a little crazily. “Get used to it.”
“After what I did…” Castiel says. “You still…”
“Cas, fuck,” Dean says, and steps even closer, brushes his nose along Castiel’s temple. “I fucking love you. I love you. And you love me. Do you even… Does that mean anything to you? Because to me it means I’m not letting you go. It means we fight for us, even when it’s hard. Even when you’re being an idiot and an asshole. Which you tend to do a lot of, by the way.”
“You…” Castiel starts quietly, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. He feels tears prick at his eyes but he swallows those down, too. “You love me?”
“You didn’t know that?”
“You never said.”
“I love you,” Dean says again, the words coming out in a garbled mess as he speaks them straight into Castiel’s mouth between a series of kisses. “I love you, Cas. I might be a bit of a jerk, and I might suck at this relationship thing, but you’re mine and I’m not letting you go and I love you.”
“Show me,” Castiel demands, tilting his head back and allowing Dean’s lips to close down over his throat.
“As long as it means I get to stop friggin’ talking about it,” Dean grumbles, then takes him by the hand and leads him into the bedroom.
Two hours later Castiel has no doubts in his mind.
***
The next day, he does get around to clearing out that drawer for Dean.
END
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