Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/775352.

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Explicit
No Archive Warnings Apply
F/M, M/M
Supernatural
Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Gabriel, Bobby Singer,
John Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Victor Henriksen, Jessica Moore,
Charlie Bradbury, Gabriel (Supernatural)
Dom/sub, Sub!Dean, slow-build romance, Alternate Universe Prostitution, Non-Supernatural AU
Published: 2013-04-27 Completed: 2013-07-12 Chapters: 34/34
Words: 148087

Carry On
by TamrynEradani
Summary

When Sam gets into Stanford, Dean needs a bigger paycheck than Bobby's garage can
give him. Luckily, he knows a guy.
*Sam/Jess does not occur in the story until fairly close to the end so if you're looking for a
Sam/Jess story please don't let the tag mislead you.*

Notes

Title taken from Carry On by Fun, not Carry On My Wayward Son. Though, I suppose
that would also be appropriate.
So, this has been a five month projected inspired by profound--bondage's post on tumblr.
She wanted a Supernatural version of Needs Must (a fantastic d/s au for Suits). It's been a
long process, but the story has been (almost finished). Unless something happens, I'll be
updating every M/W/F until the story is completed. And now I have lots of notes/warnings
that you should read before you get into the story.
A/N 1: This is a d/s AU. I have read a lot of fanfiction dealing with this dynamic, and I
have done a fair amount of research in order to write this story, but I acknowledge that
fanfiction doesn't always get it right and the internet doesn't always tell the truth so if I get
something seriously wrong please tell me, and I will do my best to fix it. That being said, if
in the beginning it seems like Dean doesn't have a firm grasp of what a d/s relationship is
then you're right, and I ask that you trust me to resolve that.

Warning 1: Alcoholism (there is a character who is an alcoholic, one who is probably an

alcoholic and at the very least doesn't ave a healthy relationship with alcohol, and there's a
recovering alcoholic. If Alcoholism is a trigger for you, you can message me at my tumblr
(tamryeradani) and I can give you more specifics.
Warning 2: Past abusive relationship. There is mention of a past relationship of Dean's
where it's an unhealthy bdsm relationship and where there is an aspect of dub-con if not
non-con. References are made without specifics, but I'll warn more specifically for those
chapters.
Warning 3: This is a story where Dean is paid to provide a service that will include a
sexual component, and there are consent issues involved in that but ymmv so if that's
something that bothers you then this is not a good story for you. It is an issue that will be
addressed before the story comes to a close.
Those are the major warnings, and if I miss something that you think should be warned for
then, again, please let me know. This is a work that I want to be enjoyed so the better I
warn the better the readers are prepared.
___________________________________________________
Warnings for this chapter: references to past unhealthy relationship

Chapter 1
The first chance Dean gets to get out and get away is after Sam goes to bed, and it takes the kid
forever, hes so wired. Dean feels bad for trying to shepherd him upstairs and to bed, not because
Sams a senior in high school and can handle things like bedtime on his own, but because Sam is
so obviously excited about getting into Stanford, and Dean cant match his excitement.
Dean tried, he really did, because this is everything hes wanted for his little brother. Hes wanted
Sam to have a future, the best future possible, and Sam wants Stanford. Sam wants the prestige,
the challenge, the chance to live in California and finally get away from dad and Deans dead
weight, and Dean had encouraged Sam to apply, because at least one person in this family should
reach high.
Dean never expected Sam to get in. Sure, he thinks his brother is a genius and should have
anything he sets his mind to, but he hadnt thought Stanford would agree and now Sams been
accepted, and hes already planning to go to law school there which is another three years of
school, and even with the sizable scholarship Sam scored theres no way to make the numbers
work.
So Deans been force smiling his way through the night, giving Sam more hugs than Dean wants
to, ruffling Sams hair more than Sam wants him to, and dragging Sam out to the apartment
parking lot when dads celebratory drinking turns into his usual binge. Dean listened to Sams
excited chatter with half an ear, the rest of him trying to figure out how to make this work.
Hed been stupid is what it comes down to. He quit taking jobs with Gabriel and started working
only for Bobby. The shifts at the garage make enough to cover rent and food and their basic living
expenses, and Deans savings has been growing albeit at a glacial pace, but theres no way they
have the kind of money for Stanford, and its not like he can pick up more hours at Bobbys to
make it work. And theres no way anyones going to give them a loan, not with their dads credit
history.
Once Sams finally in bed, dreaming about a future Deans not sure he can have, Dean pries the
bottle of Jack from his dads hands, puts his dad to bed and then he goes back outside. He has to
climb down three flights of stairs to get to the parking lot, and he plops down on one of the cement
blocks that mark the parking spaces and stares out at the Wal-Mart across the street.
Maybe he can ask Bobby for an upfront payment for the next six months. That should be enough
to score a loan at least, and Dean will then be working for nothing, but if he starts going to Gabriel
again then he can get the money for rent and food and whatever Dean and dad end up needing.
And maybe therell be some extra leftover to put towards Sams next semesters payment?
Dean laughs and drops his head to hands. Too many maybes and if onlys and hopes in that plan.
He knows that luck doesnt go their familys way. He needs a solid plan, one that cant fall
through, and he knows Gabriels the only chance he has to make the kind of money he needs, but
hes terrified of what hell have to do to get that kind of money.
At least he has time. Its the start of January which means Dean has eight months before Sam
starts college. If he starts working nights again now, hell be able to start saving enough money for
Sam to go. He takes a deep breath, the tension easing out of his shoulders now that he has a plan,
a feasible plan. He can make this work. Itll take some sacrifice; hes going to have to cut back on
his hours of sleep, and hes going to have to go back to something he thought hed finally said
goodbye to, but Sams worth it.

***
Dean meets with Gabriel the next day.
They meet up for coffee before Deans shift at the garage, and Gabriel orders one of those
sickeningly sweet concoctions full of froth and cream and Dean cant help the face he makes as
Gabriel takes a long drink.
Dont judge, Dean-o. They are delicious.
Dean wants to snap at him for calling him Dean-o or tell him his taste sucks, but Deans here
because he needs a job and that means he needs to be on his best behavior, and hes good at that.
When he needs to be, Dean can be quiet and polite and obedient. It grates at him, but he can
swallow his pride if it means doing his job.
Gabriel licks off his frothstache and frowns. Youre slipping into client mode. With me. Guess
that means fun time is over. Gabriel pushes his drink to the side and gives Dean his full attention.
I thought you told me you were out.
Dean shrugs and fiddles with the bit of paper that protects his hand from the heat of his cup. I
thought I was. He looks down at the table, and he doesnt know why the words are coming so
hard right now. Gabriel knows everything. He knows why Dean does this, he knows what Deans
been through. Hes the one who found Dean huddled outside a bar, shaking from the cold, from
being left to come down on his own, and hes the one who brought Dean home that night, took
care of him, and told him if he was going to make his money this way to at least do it with a shred
of self-preservation.
And thats how Dean started working for Gabriel. Gabriel owns a club; the first floor is a dance
club and the basement is for people with more specific wants: paid submissives, paid doms, and if
a little something extra happens thats between client and employee. Dean made better money that
way, and he was safer; Gabriel had rules and there were background checks, and Dean has to
admit that the club rooms are much nicer than the back alleys he usually conducted his business in.
He was popular at Gabriels, because guys liked that he was on the bigger side; tall, broad
shouldered, and muscled from years of working on cars. They got off on shoving his shoulders
down, making him fall to his knees, bruising them with the impact. They liked to stroke his lips,
tell him how plump and feminine they were, how they were made for cock sucking. They liked to
pet his cheeks, tell him how smooth his skin was, how delicate, and Dean would grit his teeth and
pray for it to be over. And now hes throwing himself right back in.
Sam got into Stanford, Dean finally says. Hes here because he needs help, because hes
desperate for it, and Gabriel knows that. He knows that this isnt Deans first choice, that every
time Dean asks to meet up with him what hes really asking for is help. Ive got about six months
to scrape together enough for his first semester tuition.
Stanford? Gabriel whistles, impressed. You werent kidding about him being smart. But I see
your problem. That shit doesnt come cheap.
Dean shakes his head. No. Which is why Im back. And, Dean hesitates, again. Im thinking
its time I get a regular.
Gabriels eyebrows go up, and Dean finds his coffee cup to be fascinating again. Deans always
done one night things and sometimes theres been a repeat customer - there are only so many
people paying for submissives in the area - but hes never committed to seeing one person every
Wednesday night or something like that. Regulars mean he cant quit whenever he wants. But

now he needs the promise of employment, of a steady stream of cash, because he has a lot of
school to pay for. He cant just show up whenever and hope someone wants him. He has to
secure the fact that someone does.
Alright, Gabriel says and he doesnt ask any questions which is why Dean thinks he gets along
with him so well. Gabriel knows everyones business, he has to, but he doesnt pry into it.
Anyone, anything?
Dean bites his bottom lip, because thats the kind of shit that can mess you up, but hes not sure he
has the luxury of being picky. Can you see whats around and Ill look it over?
Yeah. I can do that. Gabriel doesnt say that Dean must be really desperate, doesnt give him
another lecture on being smart, and Deans eternally grateful. There are plenty of things he doesnt
like, a good chunk of things he never wants to do again, but if it comes down to it, hell do it.
Hell do anything.
Does Sam know? Gabriel asks.
No and its going to stay that way. Sam might be a genius, but hes an oblivious one. He knows
that Dean works at the garage, and hell assume that Dean has some secret savings or that hes
gotten one hell of a raise or he wont even think about where the moneys coming from. Dean has
done everything he can to keep Sam from having to think or worry about stuff like that. Deans
the one who makes sure dinner is always on the table, and hes the one who makes sure theres
something under the fake Christmas tree for Sam, and hes the one who throws together birthday
parties for Sam out at the park where he can grill burgers and laugh at Sam and his friends while
they throw Frisbees around.
Deans a little worried that Sams not going to know how to operate a laundry machine when he
gets to college, but other kids figure it out after years of their moms doing their laundry for them.
This isnt any different. Its just Dean, not their mom, whos been taking care of Sam his whole
life.
Gabriel puts his hands up. I wasnt going to say anything. Just an innocent question. I have a
couple people in mind, but Ill do some research and get back to you sometime this week.
Awesome. Dean cant quite bring himself to thank Gabriel, but he smiles and drops a five down
for their drinks before taking his coffee and heading down to Singers Salvage and Auto Repair.
***
Deans on edge the next two days, never far from his cell phone, and hes relieved when his
phone finally rings, but he also feels a twist in his gut because what if Gabriels calling to say no
ones interested? What if hes calling to say theres a client but theyre into weird shit?
Dean stares at his phone for three rings, before he steadies himself and flips it open. Beggars dont
get to be choosers, and theres no point in worrying until he knows what exactly he should be
worrying about.
Dean, he says, shutting himself in the room he and Sam share. Sams at the library, studying,
even though hes already gotten into college so his high school grades dont matter.
Ive found someone.
Just one?
No, but I think this guy is your best option. I can personally vouch for him, and hes not into any

of your triggers.
Gabriel can personally vouch for him? Deans curious, but not curious enough, to ask what
exactly that means. Okay. When should I come by to look at his file?
He wants to meet you.
He wants to meet me? Dean has to interview for this? Does he even have any clothes to wear to
an interview? What do you even wear to an interview for being someones sub?
Yes. Now.
Now?
Dean. Theres a spot of amusement in Gabriels voice, but its edged with something else,
something Dean cant put his finger on. As cute as the mimicking is, Mr. Milton is a busy man.
Can you come by my office right now?
I just got off work. I havent showered. Deans mind is spinning in too many directions. He
cant focus on everything he needs to focus on which means hes descending into panic just for
the sake of panicking, no real direction. Hes not filthy, but hes certainly not clean. He has oil and
grease stains on his face, his shirt, his arms, and hes got black gunk under his fingernails, and he
needs to make a good impression and clean is a requirement for good impressions.
Mr. Milton doesnt care. He wants to see you, not whatever image you think he wants. So, can
you be here?
Uh yeah. Its a weird request, but Deans had weirder and since the guy wants to meet him then
hes showing interest and thats a good sign. And if it falls through, well, Gabriel had said there
were other options.
Dean hangs up and grabs his keys and heads down to Gabriels club, Casa Erotica. He passes
through the first floor, past the random stripper poles and a glittered floor, and its over the top and
a little clich, but somehow it works. Dean has to flash a special card to get down the stairs to the
private part of the club; its exclusive and invite only.
Down the stairs, before the bar and the play rooms and everything, are the offices; Gabriels is the
first on the right. The door is cracked, but Dean knocks anyway, because hes had a chance to slip
into sub Dean mode on the way over. Hes going to be good, hes going to play this right, and
hes going to get Sam to Stanford.
Come in. Its Gabriel, and Deans shoulders relax at the familiar voice. Dean nudges the door
open and steps through. Gabriels sitting at his desk, feet up on the table which doesnt actually
tell Dean anything about how serious the client is. Gabriel has a laissez-faire approach to running
his business, and if you dont like the way he acts then you dont come back, and its that simple.
The man Dean is here to see is sitting in one of three chairs in the office. Gabriel is in one, theres
an empty one in front of Gabriels desk, and the third one is on the side of the desk. The last chair
is angled towards Gabriel, but the mans back is still to Dean, and Dean takes advantage of the
opportunity to look him over.
He has dark brown hair that is styled within an inch of its life, and hes wearing a well-cut,
expensive looking suit, and Deans nervous, because high powered executives can make for very
good or very bad clients. Of course, this guy could be a lawyer or an actor; there are plenty of jobs
that make enough money to afford a suit like that, but Deans guessing the guy is stuck in an
office all day long.

Dean looks to Gabriel for his next clue. Does he introduce himself? Wait for Mr. Milton to speak
first? Deans uncertain, and he doesnt like it. It makes his stomach flip flop and his palms sweat,
and his eyes flick to the open chair, wondering if he can sit down or if hes going to be expected
to kneel.
Deans here, Gabriel says, unnecessarily, because of course Dean is here, but it must be some
kind of cue, because the man in the suit turns, and he fixes Deans with a level stare. His eyes are
blue; sharp, assessing, and Dean immediately draws himself up to attention, hands clasped behind
his back, head held high, and then he realizes that this isnt his dad snapping his fingers, this is a
potential client and client means submissive which means
No, Mr. Milton says, the word crisp as Dean starts to hunch his shoulders, tuck his chin in, curl
in on himself. I want to see you. Were you in the military?
Dean opens his mouth and then snaps it shut and shakes his head. Hes not sure if this is an
interview or a test or a trial run or what, but he knows better than to talk without permission. He
also knows better than to fall into old habits with clients, but he hasnt done a good job of showing
that.
Mr. Milton cocks an eyebrow at Gabriel. You were right. He is good.
Something warm settles in Deans stomach with the praise, puts him at ease, and his hands dont
tremble quite so much behind his back.
You can speak, though. I have questions and I want them answered. Were you in the military?
No. Its the truth, and it answers the question, and Deans sure the guy wants to know why
Deans default mode is military positioning, but hes not going to give up his life story that easy.
Deans here to provide a service not to talk about himself, and that means no volunteering
information. If forced, hell give it, because he doesnt want to blow this opportunity, but he
doesnt want to.
Mr. Miltons lips curve into a thin smile. Is this how youre going to play it? He doesnt wait for
an answer before moving onto his next question. Who taught you to stand that way?
Dean wonders if hes fishing for information on Deans past clients or if hes just nosy. It doesnt
really matter, he asked a question, and Deans expected to answer. My dad. John was a Marine
before everything fell apart, and Deans used to following strict rules and shouting and discipline.
Life history? Gabriel asks. Boring. Is that your not so subtle way of asking me to get out so
you can get down to the details? He waggles his eyebrows, and Dean manages to hold back an
eye roll.
Milton isnt nearly that subdued. If I wanted you out, I wouldnt make it subtle. Thank you for
bringing Dean here. Could you leave us now?
Its a good thing I like you, Gabriel says and he grabs a lollipop out of the dish on his desk. Im
going to be in the next room over when you two are done. This is an interview only. I dont want
any weird stains or anything on my upholstery when I get back.
Please. Milton looks offended at the thought. I wouldnt have sex in your office. I know too
much about what you do in here.
Gabriel laughs and claps Dean on the shoulder on the way out. The touch lingers, warm,
steadying, a promise that Gabriel trusts this guy enough to leave Dean alone in a room with him.

Alone in one of the few rooms in this place that doesnt have cameras. Dean inhales, deeply and
through his nose so its not obvious. Hes perfectly safe right now. All theyre going to do is talk.
The guy had told Gabriel that, and the way hed turned his nose up at the room makes Dean think
he wasnt lying about being too disgusted to do anything in Gabriels office. Not that Dean can
blame him, because hes heard about Gabriels work reward system.
Youre nervous, Milton says. Dont be. I only want to talk. You can sit.
Dean sits and now his hands are in his lap, out in the open, and he has to fight not to fidget. This
guy doesnt want to see nerves, but Dean cant help it. Theres too much riding on this, too many
thoughts in Deans head.
Dean almost jumps out of his skin when Milton touches the tips of his fingers to Deans hand. He
hadnt expected the touch, and now his heart is jack hammering, and hes not sure how the touch
was supposed to help him relax, but then he looks up, and Milton is staring, again.
Gabriel said you were interested in taking on a regular client, Milton says, and his hand doesnt
leave Deans. Its a gentle pressure, a reminder that Miltons there, that he wants Dean still, and
its weird, but Dean finds it grounding rather than restricting. He doesnt chafe at the touch,
doesnt get distracted by trying to find a subtle way to get out from under it.
I am.
He indicated that this, a regular, would be new for you. Why the change?
My brother got accepted into college.
So this would be a long term arrangement.
It isnt a question, and Dean holds his breath, wondering if thats a deal breaker. Maybe this guy
doesnt want to be saddled with Dean for a long time. Maybe he only wants a couple of months.
Maybe hes one of those business guys whos only in town every once in a while.
Good, Milton says and Dean finds it easy to breathe again. Has Gabriel told you anything
about me?
Yes. He said you were interested in a sub and that youre a busy man.
The corner of Miltons mouth lifts into a half-smile. Both of those are true. I work 8-6 at a job
that doesnt give me much pleasure. I want someone to look forward to coming home to.
Another one of those stares, the ones that seem to pierce through Deans skin, that make him feel
exposed and open and vulnerable.
I dont know what youre used to, but I dont want a couple hours in Gabriels basement once or
twice a week. The stare intensifies, making sure that Milton has Deans complete attention. I
want you home when Im home. Dean must look confused, because Milton elaborates. When I
get home from work at seven, I want you at my apartment, and I want you there until I leave the
next morning, also at seven.
The guy wants a live-in boyfriend? Dean doesnt know why, because the guy is gorgeous, but
maybe the long work hours mean he doesnt have time to go out and find someone? Or Gabriel is
lying and the guy is into stuff that makes most people turn and run? But, 7 to 7 is twelve hours a
day. Its a lot of time which on the one hand is a lot of time to be working but on the other hand,
thats a lot of time to get paid for.
It takes Dean a moment to realize the guy is waiting for some kind of response. Okay, long

hours. You want me, uh, functional for all twelve?

Milton laughs, and its softer than Deans was expecting. No, Dean. Im not a machine. I do
require some sleep, and I would like it if you slept with me, but its something we can discuss
when we write up the contract. And I would obviously pay you for the full twelve hours whether
were sleeping or engaged in other activities.
Dean does some quick math in his head. Say the guy is one of those people that only needs five
hours of sleep. That means Deans working for seven, and hes getting paid for really only half the
time hes working. This is starting to sound too good. Hes a little put off by having to live with
the guy, because hes used to operating here with rules that are strictly enforced by security
cameras and security guards, and he feels like living there will make him a kept boy, but it might
be worth it. Depends on what the guys into and what hes paying.
I saw your file, Milton says, and I think thats a good place to begin discussion of what our
arrangement will entail. Your column of things you prefer not to do; scat, water sports, lasting
damage will not be an issue. The first two dont interest me, and Im against the third. I prefer my
marking to be done in less permanent ways.
Dean nods, a mixture of relief and apprehension swirling in veins. His hand, still under Miltons,
twitches before he can help it, and he knows Milton notices, because the stare is back.
Is there something else you want to add to the list?
Those three are his three I have to be at the end of my rope desperate to accept. There might be
other things he hasnt tried that he wont like, but no, theres nothing else that belongs on that list.
There is, however, something related to it. Something Dean should bring up now, before this gets
any further, before Dean gets his hopes up and thinks this might actually work.
Theres something you should know about me, Dean says, and his fingers twist nervously in his
lap. Im, uh, the reason for the last one.
He risks a look up, and Miltons eyes flash and his lips press into a thin line, and he looks angry,
but Dean doesnt think its with him. Desperately hopes it isnt with him.
Show me.
Dean bites his bottom lip and stands up, his fingers clutching the hem of his t-shirt. He turns
around before he pulls it up and over his head, and he waits, breath held, for Milton to dismiss
him. There are two faint scars running parallel diagonally across his back and another, deeper,
more obvious, bisecting them. Theyre not particularly long, theyre hidden by Deans shirts, but
theyre obvious once his shirt is off. Theyre from the one time Dean had a regular client, back
when he was doing this on his own, and he wants to shrink away from Miltons gaze, he wants to
pull his shirt on and hide, because these are his marks of failure.
Theyre the signs that Deans been with someone before, and a lot of clients dont like the visible
proof that theyre not the first, that Dean doesnt exist solely for them. Theres also the handful
that see the scars for what they are; a warning that Deans a bad sub, that he had to be disciplined
in a way hed never forget. The scars are there so anyone who looks at him can know in an instant
that they should think twice before they take Dean on as a sub, before they pet his hair and tell
him hes good.
Miltons finger is cold and unexpected, and Dean shivers when it traces the first scar, and he shies
away from the touch on instinct, but Miltons other hand grabs Deans shoulder, a silent order to
hold still. So Dean does. He draws in a fortifying breath, and he stands there as Miltons finger

drags over each mark.

Did you want these? Milton asks, and the question comes as a surprise. Almost no one asks
about them; they see them and assume Dean deserved them, and Dean doesnt even know how to
process the question. Did he want these? Its not a matter of what he wanted or didnt want. It was
what Alastair wanted and thats why Dean was there; to take whatever Alastair wanted to give
him.
My client did, Dean finally says, because thats the safe answer, and, he hopes, the right one.
Milton spins him around, right hand clamped on Deans left shoulder, and his gaze is intense,
almost terrifying, and Dean would step back if he wasnt being held in place. I will never hurt
you like this, he promises and Dean doesnt know why, but he believes him.
After a moment, Milton drops his gaze, and he tugs the balled up t-shirt out of Deans hands and
fits it over his head before guiding Deans arms through the holes. Milton smoothes out the shirt,
and Dean thinks its a little weird that hes being dressed by the guy, but apparently being used
and broken isnt a deal breaker so Deans willing to put up with pretty much anything the guy
wants to do.
Huh, Milton says, rubbing his thumb across one of Deans oil stained cheeks like hes noticing
it for the first time.
Im a car mechanic, Dean says, offering up the information before the question comes.
Ill want you clean before you come to my apartment, Milton says, and Deans heart skips a
beat because the guy has moved from the hypothetical to the very real sounding, and Dean doesnt
want to bring it up, but it sounds like this is going to be a done deal.
Of course.
Well, Miltons gaze roams as he thinks. I expect you to be clean and ready for me at seven.
Whether you wish to do that at your apartment or mine is your prerogative, but I keep a clean
house.
No oil stained clothes draped over expensive furniture. Dean gets it. And its not like hes a slob in
his own home. One, there isnt the space in their cramped apartment for him to be messy, and two,
he keeps the apartment obsessively neat. He knows its textbook, but with everything in his life he
cant control, it gives him a measure of peace to be able to keep at least his living space in order.
Payment, Milton says. Is $10,000 a month reasonable?
Only years of self-control keep Deans jaw from dropping, because that is a shit ton of money. On
a good month he pulls in $2000 from Bobbys and thats working 42 hours a week. And this guy
is offering him 10k for 60 hours a week? Hell yeah, thats reasonable. Thats more than
reasonable. That comes out to 120k a year, and at that rate, Dean might only have to be in this for
two or three years to cover all Sams expenses. Thinking that far out threatens a panic attack so
Dean draws back in to the present. 10k a month will make their lives infinitely easier.
Which is why Dean hesitates. That much money and almost half of Deans time is going to be
spent just sleeping with the guy? It brings on another fresh wave of worry about what exactly this
guy is looking for.
Why dont we begin negotiations, Milton says. Well go over the contract, what were each
comfortable with, what were not comfortable with, what were willing to try, the hours, and once
all that is drawn up we can discuss what seems like reasonable payment. Does that work for you?

Dean nods, still caught up in the fact that this all seems to be happening. Crises never resolve this
easily. His life never goes this well, and yet, things might finally be beginning to turn around.

Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but this story is told from 3rd person
limited which means it spends a lot of time in Dean's head, and Dean's head isn't
always a great place to be. So this is a warning for low self-esteem and pretty much
non-existent self-worth which lines up well with canon Dean.
Sorry there's no sex is this chapter. This is the intro part two, but I promise things start
getting nsfw in the next chapter.

It isnt until they sign the contract that Dean learns Milton is Castiel Milton and a name like that
means he has to be one of the Miltons. The Milton family owns the Angel Network, one of the
largest TV production companies in the world, rivaled only by the Devil Network. Fittingly, the
Devil Network had been created by Lucifer Milton after the elusive Mr. Milton had disowned him
for something the news had speculated about but could never confirm the exact reason for. After
Michael, the eldest brother, had risen to CEO of the Angel Network and showed no interest in
bringing Lucifer back into the multi-billion dollar family fold, Lucifer made it his life mission to
cause as much trouble for the Angel Network as possible. And the only reason Dean knows all
that is because Sam likes to watch the stupid entertainment shows that revel in the drama the
Lucifer-Michael fight generates.
Dean understands now why 10k a month doesnt seem like a big deal to Castiel and why hes
gone to Gabriel for help finding someone. Castiel certainly isnt one of the more famous brothers,
not like Michael or Lucifer or even Raphael, but hes still a Milton which means he has to be
careful.
After the contract is signed, Dean leaves Gabriels, a copy of the contract in his possession in case
something goes wrong. Theyve agreed to a one month trial period and if, at the end of the month,
they find that theyre compatible then theyre in it for the long term. Dean understands why theres
a test period, but it makes him anxious, because this still isnt a permanent arrangement. He has the
guarantee of one month but at the end of it, Castiel could decide Dean isnt good enough and go
looking for someone else.
Dean shoves his doubts out of his head, because he starts working Sunday night, and he needs to
get into the right headspace for this or hell screw it up. Theyd agreed that Dean would be at
Castiels from 7pm to 7am starting on Sunday night and going through Friday morning and that
Friday night hell show up at 7pm and stay until 7pm Saturday which gives him almost all of
Sunday off.
Apparently Sunday is Milton family time or something. Gabriel made a joke about it while reading
through the contract, and Castiel had drawn up like a pissed off bird, and Gabriel hadnt lost his
smile, but Dean learned that mentioning Castiels family was a no-no. Not that he planned on
doing it anyways. This is a job, and he doesnt get personal on jobs.
It isnt until hes almost home that he realizes hes just agreed to be at this guys apartment pretty
much all the time. Which means he needs a plausible excuse to explain his soon to be very
obvious absences to Sam. Damn it.

Dean turns off on the road to Bobbys, and he pokes his head in the auto shop and points towards
the house and lets himself in. Bobby is one of the reasons they settled down here, the other being
that Sam wanted some permanency in their lives and dad mustve gotten tired of fighting about it
with him, because here they are. Bobbys the one who gave them a place to stay when they first
got here, the one who got Dean a job when he dropped out of high school, and the one who
helped Dean try to get John sober.
Bobbys the one Dean turns to when he needs help, well when hes not turning to Gabriel, and
Dean hopes Bobby can help him out of this mess. Dean rummages through Bobbys cabinets,
piecing together enough to make a real meal, because Bobby eats those crap microwave dinners
that are doing nothing for his health and Dean ate so many of those growing up that even seeing
the boxes at the grocery store makes him nauseous.
It was Ellen, five or six moves ago, who taught Dean how to cook. John had dropped Sam and
Dean off to stay with her while he pursued some lead that would inevitably not turn out to be the
arsonist that burned down their house, a lead that would send dad into an even deeper spiral of
depression and drinking. Ellen was the one who taught Dean the magic of casseroles, how rice,
potatoes, and pasta were imperative to know how to cook with because they were cheap and still
filling. He learned how to mix his three staples with different kinds of meats and vegetables and, if
he was daring, different kinds of sauces.
And, of course, she taught him how to grill. Her handmade burgers are, hands down, the best
thing hes ever eaten, and theyve become a specialty of his, brought out for special occasions.
By the time Bobby comes in from the shop, dinners almost ready, and Dean has a plan fully in
place. Bobby kicks his boots off by the door and hangs up his heavy plaid jacket and comes into
the kitchen, interested and suspicious.
Did you break something?
No.
Did you piss off a customer?
No.
Hmph. Bobby grabs two beers from the fridge and sets one down in front of Deans spot and
pops the cap on the other. Whats all this about?
Sam got into Stanford, Dean says, because beating around the bush doesnt work with Bobby.
Direct and honest is better, and Dean can only hope that Bobbys feeling generous.
Son, Bobby sets his beer down, looking pained. I cant
Im not asking for money, Dean says, and he ladles the beef and potato soup onto the plate of
rice. The soup comes from a can so its kind of cheating, but its more effort than Bobby wouldve
put in so Dean still counts this as a homemade meal. Ive found a second job, and I think I can
make it work.
Where are you getting time for a second job? Bobby asks. He takes the plate Dean gives him
and puts it down at Deans place and raises his eyebrows when Dean pauses. You think Im
going to eat the dinner you made me alone? You an idiot, boy?
Dean shakes his head and grabs a second plate. No. Look, I found a bar that needs someone
which means the hours are late, and its out of town, but I have a buddy who said I can crash at
his place so I dont have to drive back here exhausted before my shift at the garage. Bobbys

eyebrows draw together, not liking this, so Dean plows on. Look, I have to work, its not an
option, but it means Im going to be gone a lot, and I worry about Sam and dad being on their
own, and eventually Sams going to be off at school and then dad will really be alone, and I was
hoping we could move back in with you. Well, not me, not really, but dad and Sam. Theyll be
safer, and I can give the rent money to you, but-
Bobby waves him off with a scowl. Dont want your money. Use it to buy something for
yourself. And how the hell are you going to pay for Stanford being a mechanic and a bartender?
The extra money from not paying rent will help and the money hell make from Castiel will pay
better than any bartending job, but Dean cant say that. Instead he offers up a shrug. Ill make it
work. Sammy really wants this.
Yeah. Bobby shakes his head. But this shouldnt be your responsibility.
This is an echo of the fight that finally led to Bobby kicking John out of his house the first time
around, and Deans worried about the two of them living together again, but he doesnt see any
other way for this to work.
But it is, Dean says. He nudges Bobbys spoon. Eat before it gets cold. He knew Bobby
wouldnt take their money, but if he gets off his garage shift at four and lives at Bobbys then
Dean has a full two and a half hours before he has to get to Castiels. Thats enough time for Dean
to shower and cook dinner for Bobby and Sammy and dad. Its even enough time for Dean to
pick the place up a bit, and thatll be a good way to say thank you. A way that Bobby wont
smack him upside the head for.
***
The apartment is paid for up through the end of the month, but they move out on Saturday and
dad, predictably, is pissed off that hes being kicked out of his house and sent to live with Bobby.
Dean has to bite back an angry response about how Deans the one paying for the apartment and
if dad has such a problem with Bobby then maybe he should get a damn job and get his own
place.
Sams upset that theyre moving, because he has this tendency to grow attached to places, but hes
cheered up by the fact that theyre staying in the same town and that theyre going to Bobbys
because he likes Bobby, and Dean thinks hes also feeling a little bit guilty that theyre moving so
they can afford to pay for Stanford.
Think of it this way, Dean says, lugging the TV into dads room. Youll have your own room
here. Well, except Saturday nights.
Sam frowns at the reminder that Deans going to be a virtual ghost in his life now. Dean doesnt
like it either. Hes got Saturday night and most of Sunday with Sam and then a couple scattered
hours in the morning and afternoon, and its not nearly as much time as theyre used to, but its
something Deans going to have to get over. Hes doing this so Sam can be happy and in a couple
years Dean can quit and then a few more years down the road Sam will be some big shot lawyer
and Dean can mooch off him and everything will balance out.
Dean makes burgers for dinner to celebrate the move, and dinner isnt pleasant, but it isnt
unbearably awkward and Bobby and dad dont get into a shouting match or throw beer bottles at
each other so Dean just smiles as bright as he can and pretends that everythings fine.
***

Sunday is a wreck of a day. Dean wakes up too early, and he cant get back to sleep because hes
too wired and too nervous for tonight so he spends the day tired, a little bit cranky and yo-yoing
between wishing that the day would last forever so he never has to go to Castiels and wishing 7
oclock would just be here now so he can get it over with.
By the time hes taking the stairs up to Castiels apartment, Deans stomach is all twisted into
knots, and he probably shouldve eaten a real meal before he headed over but he could barely
stomach a bite of his sloppy joe. Now, though, hes going to be stuck in a strange place without
food, and hes probably going to wake up at 2am too hungry to fall back asleep.
Dean knocks on the apartment door and waits for a hello or a come in. Hes surprised that Castiel
doesnt live in the swankiest place in town. There are much nicer apartment complexes with
doormen in the little outfits and swimming pools and gilded elevators and chandeliers everywhere,
and the guy obviously has money, but apparently it isnt spent on his apartment.
Not that the place is shabby by any means. Deans stayed in his fair share of dumps, and this
building is nice. Its clean, well-managed, but its simpler than Dean expected. The walls are a soft
butter color, and theres pretentious art on the wall, but not the weird modern stuff; its classical
with the soft lighting and brushstrokes and yeah, Dean doesnt know much about art. All he
knows is its not the modern crap and its not the fat naked babies. Were the babies the
Renaissance? Maybe.
Deans foot taps a restless beat on the floor, and he wonders if maybe he got the time wrong. Or
the apartment wrong. Or maybe this had been the set-up to a huge joke. Gabriels a prankster, and
his sense of humor isnt always on target, but Dean wouldnt think him capable of this.
Deans getting ready to bolt when he hears the chime of a clock somewhere. Before the clock
finishes striking seven, the door opens, and Castiel motions Dean inside. Good evening, he
says.
Deans not sure if hes allowed to talk, but being polite is always a good idea, and if the guy wants
to smack him around then hell find an excuse for it sooner or later. Good evening. Deans more
of a hey or hows it going guy, but Castiel is rich so Dean figures stiff and formal is the best
way to go.
Castiel laughs and undoes the cuffs of his dress shirt, and Dean wants to know what guy hangs
out in business casual on his day off. Deans in his best pair of jeans and a polo, but he feels cheap
standing in front of Castiel like this. Deans betting his whole outfit is worth less than the tie
Castiel has hanging loose around his neck. Dean tugs on the hem of his shirt and wonders if being
told to get naked will be a relief in this job.
Those words dont sit naturally in your mouth, Castiel says and he points to an elaborate stack
of box-shaped shelves next to the door that are tilted at a weird angle so theyre diagonal, forming
a diamond. Dean supposes its probably one of those in things in the home magazines, but it
reminds him of the cubbyholes from grade school. You dont have to pretend with me.
Dean wants to point out that pretending is exactly what hes doing; hes pretending to be Castiels
boyfriend, hes pretending that he likes this shit, hes pretending that he wants to be here, but he
doesnt want to get fired on his first night so he keeps his mouth shut and just looks at the boxes,
confused, hoping that Castiel will elaborate.
When you get here, I want your clothes folded and put on a shelf, Castiel says. If I have
anything I want you to wear or any instructions for you, this is where Ill put them.
Dean nods even though his brain gets tripped up on anything I want you to wear. What exactly

will that entail? Castiels said he isnt into the horse or puppy play, but Dean had a client who
liked corsets and another who was a fan of pirate costumes, but Castiel doesnt strike Dean as
someone whos going to dress Dean in frilly outfits.
Deans pulled out of his wondering by the lengthening silence, and he looks up to see Castiel
regarding him, expectant. It takes Dean a moment to get it, but then hes untying his shoes,
because it takes more time than slipping them off and because he doesnt want to ruin the heels
because shoes are expensive. He takes each article of clothing off from his feet up until hes only
got his polo left. He hesitates only a moment before he drops his eyes to the ground and tugs it
over his head.
A moment later, two fingers tuck under his chin and tilt his head up. I want you to look at me,
Cas says. I want you submissive, but I dont want you meek. You dont need to hide yourself
from me.
Thats a new one, and Deans uncomfortable with the eye contact; it seems too personal, too
intimate, but this whole job is pushing the boundaries of too close. Hes living with the client.
Theyve submitted testing receipts to Gabriel so they can bareback, and its not the first time
Deans done it, but its the first time with a client. Still, Deans here to do what Castiel wants. His
eyes flick up, making it as high as Castiels nose, not quite his eyes, and Castiel brushes his thumb
across Deans jaw.
Almost, he says and when Dean finally raises his eyes to Castiels blue ones, theres a hint of a
smile in their depths. Good.
A warmth settles in Deans chest, because hes good. He can be good. Thats why Castiel picked
him, and thats what will keep Dean employed until they dont need the money anymore. Still,
Deans instinct when complimented is to look away, and he has to fight his instincts to keep his
eyes on Castiel, to accept what hes said.
Castiels hand slips around to the small of Deans back, and its well below the scars, but Dean
still hesitates at the first touch, but once he relaxes, Castiel gives him a nudge, encouraging him to
start walking.
They pass through a rather bland entryway, the only excitement being the weird black box shelf
things, and then the apartment opens up into a large room that hosts the kitchen on one half and
the living room on the other. Its as cold and impersonal as the entryway. The kitchen is all sharp
stainless steel and black cabinets and black granite countertop, and the furniture in the living room
is all black leather, and it looks straight out of a catalogue; nice but impersonal.
Dean thinks it might help if the pictures on the wall werent prints of landscapes; they look like
theyre straight out of National Geographic. It might also help if the DVD cabinet was open so
there was at least a small individual touch to the place. The only thing that doesnt look perfectly
scripted is the box of crackers and cubes of cheese on the counter, and Dean pretends his gaze is
drawn to them, because theyre the only sign Castiel isnt a robot and not because hes hungry.
Castiel follows Deans gaze. Did you eat?
Yes.
Dean must have hesitated or something, because Castiel follows up with, What? And I want to
know everything, quantities included.
Theres a rule about lying, and Dean only briefly considers disobeying before he says, A bite of a
sloppy joe, a couple curly fries. He pauses, then adds, half a beer.

Mm. Castiels free hand turns Deans head away from the food so hes looking at Castiel, and
the mans look is even more serious than usual. Dean hadnt realized that was possible. I
understand that you might have had reservations about tonight and that may have affected your
appetite, but this cannot be a regular occurrence. You cannot scene on an empty stomach. Do you
understand?
Dean nods, adds a, yes, for good measure. Castiel raises an expectant eyebrow and Dean
corrects himself. Yes, sir.
Good. And while were on the subject, hydration is another absolute must, both while youre
here and when youre at home. Get the crackers and the cheese and meet me at the couch.
The hand leaves his back, and Dean tucks the box under his arm and gathers the cheese cubes into
his cupped hands. When he gets to the couch, Castiel is sitting, legs spread, a cushion on the
ground between them, and Dean folds to his knees. This is what hes used to - not the cushion,
thats an unexpected luxury - but the knees at his clients feet. Hes not exactly sure how the
cheese and crackers are going to fit in, but he offers them up even as he fights the urge to cram
them into his mouth.
Castiel picks up each cube of cheese between his forefinger and thumb, and places them on his
leg. Dean watches the line of cheese wind its way up from Castiels knee to his thigh. He tracks
the movement, and he wonders if this is supposed to be a punishment. Is Dean going to stare at the
food he cant eat until he begs? Begging isnt his favorite; it seems too much like pandering to his
clients egos, and it always comes out sounding stilted and forced.
Once the cheese is laid out, Castiel holds his hands out for the box, and Dean hands it over and he
puts his hands on his thighs and waits for his next cue or instruction. Castiel counts the cheese
blocks and then he counts out the same number of crackers, slow, methodical, and Deans itching
to move.
He usually falls into this easier, but usually hes got a hand fisted in his hair and a cock halfway
down his throat at this point, and this whole sitting and watching and being ignored thing is new.
Deans not sure whats expected of him, and its making him antsy, its making his flight instinct
kick in, and he has to make a conscious effort to stay relaxed.
Finally, Castiel picks up the cracker closest to his waist and then he picks up the closest piece of
cheese, and he stacks them and holds them out, inches from Deans lips. Deans fingers curl into
his thighs, but its pretty obvious he isnt expected to feed himself. He opens his mouth and is
rewarded a moment later when Castiel pops the food in.
You were nervous coming here tonight? Castiel asks. Is that why you couldnt eat?
Dean nods as he chews and swallows. Castiel extends another cracker with cheese.
Why were you nervous?
Dean doesnt even know where to begin with that list. He doesnt know much about Castiel, hes
never lived with a client like this, hes desperate and hes afraid hes over his head, hes afraid hes
going to get fired. Is there anything hes not nervous about? Thats the better question.
But, honesty. Its been a long time since I did this outside Gabriels.
Deans answer is rewarded with another cracker and cheese. You dont feel safe here.
It isnt a question, but theres an expectation of an answer anyways, and Deans hungry, and if

Castiel would rather chat than do other things then Deans certainly not going to complain. Well,
until it gets too personal. I dont know you.
Castiel nods, conceding the point. And your clients at Gabriels. Did you know them?
No, but the rooms all come equipped with security cameras.
Castiel has another cracker and cheese prepared, but he pauses, the food halfway to Deans
mouth. Are you saying you dont trust your clients?
Are you saying I should?
Castiels free hand cups Deans cheek, his thumb sweeping across Deans cheekbone. This
relationship is all about trust. You dont trust me yet so trust Gabriel. He wouldnt put you in a
situation where youd get hurt.
Castiel holds the cheese and cracker out, and Dean thinks it over while he chews. He trusts
Gabriels security guys to watch the video feeds and make sure nothing gets out of hand, but there
are no cameras here and how well does Gabriel know Castiel anyway?
Castiels hand cards through Deans hair, and Dean tenses, waiting for the fist to close, for the
pain to spike through his scalp, but Castiels touch stays gentle until Dean relaxes.
Still hungry? Castiel holds out another cracker and cheese.
***
They talk until all the food is gone, and Castiel directs his gaze to his pants, inspecting them for
crumbs and stains, and Dean tracks every movement, waiting for Castiels fingers to go his fly, but
they never do. He simply brushes the crumbs off onto the floor and directs his attention back to
Dean.
Sunday nights are when I unwind and transition from the weekend back to the work week.
Castiels hand is still in Deans hair, a casual touch. Im going to put the TV on. Do you want to
stay down there or come up here with me?
Deans not used to choices, and hes afraid hes going to make the wrong one. Alastair liked to
give him options, but neither were pleasant, and it was because he liked making Dean ask for
things he didnt like, but neither of Cass options sound bad. Kneeling might make his knees ache
after a while, but he doubts up here means sitting on the couch, itll probably mean lying down
next to Castiel or something, and Deans not sure hes ready for that.
He runs his hands down his thighs, nervous. Down here is fine.
Theres no reaction on Castiels face, no hint of whether that was the right answer or not. Turn
around so you can face the TV as well.
Dean shuffles into position, and he sits back on his heels and leans against the back of the couch,
and he hopes this is okay, because this position covers part of his back, and he shouldve thought
this through before he chose to stay down here.
Castiel doesnt say anything though, and Dean doesnt feel his neck prickle, a warning that hes
being watched. Instead, Castiel turns the TV on, and he threads his hand through Deans hair and
guides Deans head so its resting against Cass thigh and they settle in to watch a documentary on
an orca whale named Luna.

Ten minutes in, and Deans eyelids start to droop. Ryan Reynolds has a good voice, but whales
arent particularly exciting to Dean, and hes running on less sleep than usual. Castiel is stroking
Deans head again, and its soothing instead of creepy, and Deans muscles melt a little more with
each touch, until Deans lost his posture and hes leaning heavily on Cass thigh.
At one point he starts to slip, and he wraps his arms around Castiels leg, and hes afraid this is
wrong or overstepping his bounds because Castiels hand pauses, but then he murmurs, Good
boy, and Deans eyes flutter closed.
He drifts in the land of not quite awake, not quite asleep until the TV clicks off, and he startles,
enough that its obvious he was half-asleep, and he wonders if thats something hes going to get
into trouble for.
Im sorry, Dean says, automatic, in the hopes that he can stave off the worst of his punishment.
For what? I asked you to sit at my feet, and you did. You did well, Dean. Castiels hand drags
through Deans hair one last time before he pulls back, and Dean feels like hes lost something.
Are you ready for bed?
This is what Deans been waiting for. He rises to his feet, his legs a little unsteady, because hes
been sitting on them for too long, and follows Castiel back to the master bedroom. Its a large
room, larger for the lack of decoration. The bed sits against the far wall, and theres a bedside table
on either side. They have matching lamps, but there are no picture frames, which Dean thinks is
weird. He lives with his family and he still has a picture of Sam next to his bed. He also has a
picture of mom under his pillow, but thats different.
Dean wants to ask if Castiel just moved in or if he realizes there was nothing personal in his whole
apartment, but he knows better. Castiel leads Dean into the bathroom and hands him a toothbrush.
The bathroom is almost bigger than Sam and Deans room at Bobbys. There are two sinks at the
counter, and theres a state of the art shower and Jacuzzi tub, and Dean hopes Castiel is the kind
of guy whos into bathtub sex, because Dean would like to experience that bath sometime.
In the meantime, Dean brushes his teeth and washes his face, and Castiel goes into the bedroom so
Dean takes the opportunity to take a piss. When he comes out of the bathroom, Castiel is in a
matching pajama set and hes pulling the covers back. Dean hesitates in the doorway, because
why would Castiel change into pajamas just for Dean to take them off?
Castiel climbs into bed and pats the empty space beside him. Dean climbs in and waits for
instructions or for Castiel to unbutton his pajama top, but Castiel simply pulls the covers over
them.
I hope you arent prone to stealing the covers, he says and then he turns his back to Dean and
flicks the light switch next to his bed.
Dean holds his breath and waits for the touch to his shoulder or his hip or something, and it isnt
until his chest starts to constrict and his lungs burn that he realizes the touch isnt coming. Castiel
is going to sleep, and Deans first night is going to pass without any kind of sex. Hes not sure
whether to be relieved or feel cheated.
Dean curls up on his side of the bed and wraps his arms under his pillow. The sheets are nicer
than anything hes used to, but theyre cool against his skin, and even with the heavy comforter he
feels a chill sweep up his spine. He slides his palm under his pillow, but theres no picture there to
touch, nothing to remind him of home.

Chapter 3
Dean wakes up to an unfamiliar alarm and bolts upright as he looks around, trying to place
himself.
Relax, a sleepy voice mumbles, and Dean looks over to see Castiel fumbling with his phone to
get the alarm off.
Right, Dean remembers, and he sinks back against the bed. Sorry.
Helped wake me up. Castiel swings his legs over the side of his bed and gets up. Im going to
call down for breakfast. Start the shower?
Dean nods and takes his time getting out of bed so he can stare at Castiel. His pajamas are
rumpled and his hair is sleep tousled and it makes him look human for the first time since Deans
met him; no impeccable suit or shirt buttons done up to his throat. Hes blinking sleep out of his
eyes and taking unsteady steps towards the door, and Dean feels a swell of something close to
affection.
He dismisses it as gratitude because the guy gave him an easy first night and, from the sounds of
it, Deans going to be getting breakfast before he goes. He fiddles with the shower controls until
he gets a steady stream going, warm but low pressured because its too early for a real shower,
and if hes going to end up on his knees he doesnt want water pounding in his eyes.
Dean doesnt have to get undressed and he doesnt know if hes supposed to get in the shower
without Castiel so he stands outside the shower and occasionally checks the temperature. Theres
a shelf below the showerhead with a bottle of expensive shampoo and a froofy conditioner, and
then a bottle of body wash. Dean uses whatever shampoos on sale when he goes to the store and
a plain old bar of soap. Hed upgraded to the Dove stuff after Sams eight millionth complaint
about his skin drying out so all Cass stuff is foreign to him. Dean runs a hand through his hair and
wonders if hes going to be forced to use it. He already showers after the garage; he doesnt really
need another full shower before he goes.
Castiel returns to the bathroom, naked, and he steps into the shower, Dean following him in. The
shower sprays the water wide enough that they dont have to fight to stand under the spray, but
their bodies are still in close contact, and Deans dick takes an interest in all the wet skin in front of
him. Hed been half-hard when he woke up, and itd mostly gone away when he got startled, but
his arousals starting to come back. Hes naked and warm and wet, and hes still tired enough that
everything is pleasantly fuzzy, and Castiel is naked and practically purring under the stream of
water, arching his back and letting the water run through his hair.
Dean appreciates that the guy eased him into this whole thing last night, but Deans not a delicate
little flower. He slides his hands down Castiels torso and sinks to his knees. His lips part around
the head of Cass erection, and he leans forward to take more of Castiels length into his mouth.
Deans surprised he doesnt have a hand in his hair as soon as he goes to his knees given Castiels
apparent penchant for it, and he risks getting water in his eyes and looks up. Castiel is washing his
hair like Deans not even doing anything down here.
Dean has to shove aside the urge to bite in order to get Castiels attention or to express his
displeasure. Dean knows that giving head is something hes good at and hes never had anyone
ignore him like this. He takes it as a personal challenge, and he closes his eyes and swallows
Castiel down in one go.

That finally gets a reaction. Castiel makes a startled noise and his hips jerk forward and if Dean
hadnt been pulling back he wouldve gagged. Castiels hand drops to Deans hair and he grips it
tight, just shy of painful, and rolls his hips forward. Deans mouth goes slack, accepting each
thrust, even as they ramp up until Castiels hips stutter, and he comes with a low groan deep in
Deans throat.
The hand in Deans hair falls lax and Dean sinks back on his heels as water drips through his hair
and down his forehead, and Castiels hand brushes his face and pulls back, shampoo suds on his
fingers.
You might want to stand up before you get shampoo in your eyes, Castiel says.
How the hell did Dean even get shampoo in hisoh. It must have been on Castiels hand when
he grabbed Deans hair. Damn it.
Deans distracted from his thoughts of what his hairs going to look like now when Castiel spins
him around so Deans back is to the showerhead. Castiel tips Deans head back and rinses the
shampoo from his hair.
Back against the wall, Castiel says, and Dean obeys, stepping out of the stream of water and
pressing his back against the cool tile wall. Castiel pours some of his body wash onto his hands,
and he works it up into a good lather. Left arm out.
Dean hesitates and then he slowly lifts his arm up, and Castiel rubs his hands up and down Deans
arm. He does Deans right arm next, then moves to his chest, his legs, and all Dean can do is
watch. Hes fully hard now and his arousal curves up towards his stomach, and he presses his
palms against the shower wall to help him resist the temptation to touch.
Castiel squeezes out another drop, and rubs it between his hands. He makes sure he has Deans
full attention before he drops his hand to Deans erection. Dean tips his head back and sucks in a
breath, because Castiel knows what hes doing. Deans fingers curl against the tile, but theres
nothing to hold onto, and he squeezes his eyes shut.
Open, Castiel says. Deans eyes open, and Castiel is right there, in his space, eyes trained not on
Deans dick but his eyes, and that is what makes Dean feel truly naked. Deans initial reaction is
to pull back, to hide, but theres nowhere for him to go. Good, Castiel says when Dean holds
his gaze.
Deans breath catches with the praise, and its punched out of him a moment later as he comes
over Castiels fist.
Shit, Dean breathes, sagging against the wall. And then he realizes that he didnt have
permission, and he jerks to attention, an apology on his lips.
I didnt tell you you couldnt, Castiel says, and he draws Dean back under the spray.
They finish washing up, and towel off.
Breakfast should be waiting outside the door, Castiel says from inside his closet. Get it, put it
on the table, and Ill be out once Im dressed.
Dean doesnt dawdle, but he doesnt sprint to the door. His mini-panic had killed his post-orgasm
afterglow, but he isnt going to get punished, and hes about to get breakfast, and that keeps his
spirits high. He opens the door slowly, because hes completely naked and he doesnt want
anyone to see him.

Theres a covered tray resting on the floor outside the door, and Dean pulls it inside and closes the
door before any morning birds decide to poke their heads outside. When he gets back to the
kitchen, Castiel is in a full suit and sitting at the head of the four person table with a cup of coffee
and a glass of orange juice.
Theres a throw pillow on the ground next to his chair, and Dean sets the breakfast tray, still
warm, on the table and kneels.
I got pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, and potatoes. Is there anything there you dont like?
No, sir. Deans mouth waters at the prospect of sausage. And bacon. And if theyre the cube
potatoes then hes going to be a very happy guy. Theres a clink of silverware, presumably as
Castiel cuts his pancakes.
When Castiel reaches down, a bit of bacon in his hand, Deans worried for a moment that Castiel
is going to toss it on the ground for Dean to eat. I cant feed you if you dont open your mouth,
Castiel says, amused.
Dean flushes, embarrassed, because he doesnt need to be fed, but he opens his mouth and Castiel
pops the piece of bacon in. Castiel talks to him between bites, and he hands down bits of pancake
and sausage and occasionally a forkful of eggs, and Dean obediently opens his mouth each time
and lets Castiel feed him. Its different but its not entirely unpleasant, and Dean doesnt know
how to feel about that. It should be degrading being handfed like this, being forced to be on the
floor instead of at the table; instead, its nice. Castiels voice washes over him, expecting an
audience but not participation, and Dean can let his mind wander. He opens his mouth when
theres food, and he chews and swallows, but theres nothing more expected from him.
Hes almost sad when breakfast is over, but then they brush their teeth and Castiel says he has to
go to work which means its time for Dean to go, and that brings nothing but relief. He wont
make it back in time to see Sam before he goes to school, but itll be good to have an hour or so to
himself before he has to go to work.
He pulls on yesterdays clothes and makes a note to start bringing a fresh change of clothes with
him when he comes. Dean finishes dressing and says an awkward goodbye, half-expecting Castiel
to tell him he cant leave, but the man simply tells Dean to remember to hydrate and that hell see
him tonight and then Deans out the door and headed to Bobbys.
***
Deans got his hands buried in the innards of a Toyota Avalon when he feels the heavy weight of
someones eyes on him. Hes not in the most dignified of positions, bent over so he can really get
at the engine, legs spread, ass in the air, and even though his jeans are loose to give him the
mobility he needs to work, theyre not loose enough to deflect attention.
It takes most of Deans self-control not to turn over his shoulder to glare at the woman or tell her
to go wait out in the waiting room with the three month old People magazines. He doesnt,
because snapping at customers is a sure way to lose customers, and Deans used to the staring. He
gets it a lot. Hes got a decent ass, and hes got these damned bowed legs that attract their fair
share of lewd comments. Clients love to tell him that his legs are made to be wrapped around
someones waist, that they spread so naturally that Dean must be easy, must be desperate to get
fucked.
It takes a moment before Dean realizes that Castiel hadnt said anything like that. No comments
about how full Deans lips are, nothing about his delicate lashes or his freckles. Its refreshing in
one way, worrying in another. Castiel has been different from the beginning and it keeps Dean off

balance. Hes used to having the rules laid out for him, hes used to knowing exactly whats
expected of him. Hes used to knowing how hes going to feel, but Castiel is different there, too,
and its getting Deans head all turned around.
Clients like him for his body, but Castiel hasnt seemed to be all too interested in that so far. He
likes Dean on his knees, sure, but not for the reasons most guys like Dean on his knees. The
watching TV together, the eating together, its unnervingly domestic, and Dean feels more like a
hired boyfriend than a hired sub, but maybe theres more to subbing than getting his face fucked
and his ass beat.
A hand slams on the side of the car and Dean startles and smacks his head on the hood. Damn
it, Dean growls, clutching his head and ducking out from under the hood. Bobby is looking at
him, completely unconcerned that hes the current cause of Deans distress. Really?
You were spacing, princess, Bobby says. Dont pay you to stand around and look pretty.
Right. Sorry. Dean rubs the back of his head and winces when he realized he probably just got
grease and engine gunk all in his hair. Maybe itll counteract the stupid shampoo. Dean swears his
hair is fluffy. Next time he gives Castiel a blow job hes going to make sure the guys done
washing his hair first.
Hey. Bobby frowns. Just giving you a hard time. Bar shift too much for you?
Naw. Dean drudges up a smile he doesnt feel. Itll just a take a little getting used to. Promise I
wont slack off here.
Boy, I dont think youve ever slacked off in your life.
Dean laughs. Try telling that to my teachers. Or the guidance counselor that tried to get me to
stay in school. Dean had dropped out of high school as soon as he could to start working because
dad couldnt hold down a steady job and someone needed to support the family. At Bobbys
urging, Dean had gotten around to getting his GED a couple years back, but its no secret that
school wasnt Deans strong suit. Or that hes a quitter and a drop out. Anyways, wanna get this
girl fixed up before lunch.
Right. Im ordering subs. Want me to get you one?
Sure.
Coke good?
Ill just get some water. He shrugs off Bobbys incredulous look. I work at a bar now. Im
drinking way more soda than I should.
As long as youre not going all health nut on me. Sams bad enough, insisting on a fruit or
vegetable at every damn meal. Have you seen all the bananas in the kitchen?
Dean laughs and waves Bobby off and goes back to the car, feeling settled again.
***
Sams home when Dean gets back from the garage which is new. He spends most of his time at
the library these days or hanging out with his friends, and Deans not sure whether hes that
obsessed with being normal or if hes avoiding dad again. Sam goes through phases where he
tries to mimic the high schoolers he sees on TV or reads about in books but only the nerdy ones.
Deans never gotten a panicked call because Sams woken up in the woods, hungover and naked

and with no memory of the night before, which hes both grateful for and kind of disappointed
about. Sam needs to live a little. Theres an entire world outside his school books, and Deans
hoping Sam will discover it when he goes off to college.
College. Deans not ready for Sam to leave him. He has no idea what hes going to do without
Sam. Therell be no one to tease at dinner, no one to toss a football around with on the weekends,
and no one to have epic video game battles with. Sams going to be in California making friends
and learning and actually doing something with his life, and Deans going to be stuck here for the
rest of his life.
No homework tonight? Dean asks.
Ive been working on it. Sam pulls the cranberry juice out. Figured I could take a break, hang
with my brother before he disappears again. You want some? Sam holds the juice up in offering.
Dean grabs two glasses and meets him at the table. Hard stuff?
Nah. Were getting ready for midterms so mostly its review and stuff. But tell me about the bar.
Sam sits down at the table, eager, like Deans going to tell him a story. Is it cool? Is it like the
ones we used to sneak into?
Nothing like that. Dean pours them each a glass of juice and starts making up a story about an
imaginary bar and tries not to feel too bad that hes lying to his little brother.
***
They eat dinner, the four of them, Sam, Dean, dad, and Bobby, and then Dean packs up and
heads to Castiels. The door is unlocked and hes tempted to lock it behind him but he doesnt.
Instead, he strips down, folding his clothes and putting them on one of the shelves. On the shelf
next to it he puts his backpack with a change of clothes for tomorrow morning.
Castiels at the kitchen table with dinner spread out around him and Dean kneels on the pillow
without being asked. Castiel drops his hand to Deans hair and ruffles it. Did you eat before you
came?
Yes. Tuna casserole, because its one of Bobbys favorites. Dean figures a week of making
Bobbys favorite foods should build up enough goodwill for when dad inevitably screws up. We
also had celery and carrots because, Dean catches himself before he says because Sams on one
of his health kicks. Theres no need to talk about Sam or Bobby or anyone with Castiel. Hes a
client. Dean does have some sense of professionalism. Hes been out of the business too long if
hes making rookie slip ups like this.
Because? Castiel prompts.
Fruits and veggies are important.
Hmm. If Castiel suspects that isnt the full truth, he doesnt press. You want more? My ham
came with pineapple.
No, thank you.
Castiel cuts his ham into little squares and then he drops his hand to Deans hair and it stays there
throughout the rest of dinner. Again, with the touching. Deans used to touching, obviously, but
not touching like this. There isnt anything inherently erotic about this, this isnt a means to an
orgasmic end.

After dinner they end up on the couch again, Dean straddling Castiel, but Castiel doesnt turn the
TV on right away. He puts his hands on Deans thighsmore touchingand Dean doesnt feel
the urge to throw himself off Castiels lap right away. He still has trouble meeting the other mans
eyes, but Castiel catches Deans chin and turns his head to face Castiels.
Whyd you pick Sioux Falls to settle in? Castiel asks, and Deans mouth goes slack because of
all the things hed been expecting, this wasnt it. Your family moved around a lot, and this is the
longest youve ever stayed in one place. Why?
Uh, Deans not sure what his life story has to do with him subbing. Most clients dont want to
know anything about him beyond how tight his ass is and how good he is at following orders. Is
that what this is? Some kind of test? Is Castiel asking personal questions to see whether Dean will
answer them or not? It seemed right?
Castiels hands draw back to rest loosely at his sides, and Dean doesnt like the sudden loss. He
tells himself its because Castiels palms are pleasantly warm and even though the apartment is
kept at a comfortable temperature, Deans naked and extra heat is always welcome. Dean wonders
if this is like the time with the crackers. Will he get a touch for each question he answers? Does
that mean he doesnt have to answer as long as he accepts that he wont be getting off tonight?
Does he dare risk pissing Cas off on the second night into their trial by keeping his mouth shut?
You know I have a brother, Dean finally says, because hes afraid Castiel is going to sit in
silence until Dean gives in, and its not like this is hard information to come by. He wanted to go
to the same high school for all four years, and this is where we happened to be.
Castiels hands slide up to touch Deans knees. Schools important to your brother.
Yeah. Hes the smart one in the family. Castiels fingers curl into Deans skin, painful for a brief
moment before he relaxes, and Deans not sure what hes said wrong. Anyway, he liked the high
school, and we had a place to stay and I found a job and everything just worked so we stayed.
You found a job? Castiel asks and it sounds like an accusation, against Deans dad or maybe
against Deans priorities, and Dean shifts, ready to slide off and away, and Castiels hands sweep
up across Deans legs, placating.
I take care of my brother, Dean says, a hard set to his jaw, because thats been his job since he
was four and he took baby Sam from their dad and carried him out of their burning house. Its the
one thing Dean hasnt failed at, the one thing he will never fail at. So what if Dean dropped out of
high school as soon as he was old enough to work? So what if hes probably never going to be
anything more than a car mechanic? Sams happy, and hes going to go to school and make
something out of his life and thats enough to make Dean feel like his life is worth something.
Castiel pets the finely haired skin of Deans thighs until Dean relaxes against him. I know, and
you do a good job of it. Hes lucky to have you.
Dean snorts back a laugh, because Dean isnt exactly the kind of brother you brag about. Sam
used to look up to him but that was before Deans brief stint smoking under the bleachers and
before his not so brief stint with drinking their dads booze at all hours of the night and before
Dean dropped out of school and branded himself a failure in his little brothers eyes.
Hey, Castiel says, his voice sharp, reprimanding. Stop that.
Dean wants to ask stop what, but he doesnt have a chance, because Castiel wraps a hand around
the back of Deans neck and pulls his head down so theyre kissing. Deans body sighs its relief,
sinking deeper into Castiels lap, because kissing Dean can handle. He slides his hands up

Castiels arms, huffing an impatient sound into Castiels mouth because there are sleeves covering
Castiels arms, a fancy dress shirt keeping Dean from touching Castiels skin.
Deans hands scramble at the fabric, a silent question, more of a plea really, and he parts his lips
for Castiels tongue, because maybe if he does what Castiel wants then Castiel will give Dean
what he wants. Castiels free hand is on the small of Deans back and urges him forward until
theyre as close as they can be, and Dean rolls his hips and tips his head back and moans, a
promise of so much more if Castiel will just get naked.
Dean presses down into their kiss, to show Castiel that hes good at this, that hes more than good
at this, and Castiels hand tightens on Deans neck, a warning. Castiel is the one in charge, even if
Dean has the leverage on him right now, and Dean dials back his enthusiasm, letting Castiels
tongue sweep into his mouth, claiming him, and that shouldnt make Dean harder, but it does, and
he cant help his groan.
Good boy, Castiel says, searing the words into Deans jaw as he presses kisses down Deans
jawline then down his neck. Castiels hand slips into Deans hair and pulls Deans head to the
side, baring his neck. Castiels teeth scrape down the taut line of skin, and Deans hands scramble
for some kind of purchase. There isnt enough fabric to Castiels shirt to serve as handholds and
he ends up clutching Castiels shoulders, his head thrown back, his hips grinding shamelessly
against Castiels.
Almost immediately Castiel grabs one of Deans hands and wraps it around Deans prominent
erection. If you stain my clothes, I will not be happy, Castiel says, and then he drags Deans
head down for another kiss. Its entirely unfair that now Castiel rolls his hips up, because it drives
Deans dick into his hand, and the grip is perfect, almost too perfect, and Dean reaches behind
Castiel to grip the couch so hard his knuckles turn white. He drags a breath in through his mouth
before Castiel is kissing him again, insistent, demanding, and Deans vision goes hazy with the
rush of it all.
Less than a minute later, Castiel gives Deans shoulders a shove and he falls back on the sofa, his
legs splaying in obscene invitation. Dean bites his bottom lip and gives the base of his dick a
squeeze, because he isnt trapped between his chest and Castiels anymore, but it seems wrong to
come now, with the sudden loss of Castiels touch.
Castiel smirks and reaches into the lamp stand next to the couch and tosses a bottle of lube at
Deans head. Dean catches it easily enough but then he stares at it, uncomprehending, and Castiel
undoes the buttons at his cuffs. You have until Im undressed to be ready.
Dean thinks thats totally unfair. How in the world is he supposed to concentrate when Castiel is
stripping? But the man doesnt give Deans mind any time to play catch up. Castiel starts on the
buttons of his shirt, and Dean really doesnt want to get fucked dry so he fumbles with the cap on
the lube, one handed, because hes not sure hes allowed to stop touching himself. And yeah, this
is way too much at once; the hand on his dick, the slick finger nudging at his entrance, Castiel
giving Dean a methodical yet somehow hot strip tease. Deans afraid his minds going to go into
overdrive and fry.
Dean makes a pathetic sound in the back of his throat when Castiel gets enough buttons undone to
reveal a fucking undershirt, because Dean just wants to see him stripped naked. He wants to see
all that skin, touch it, lick it, kiss it, and Dean presses a second finger into himself before hes quite
ready, because he needs something and hes not getting Castiel yet.
Eager, Castielscrew it, Dean thinks, hes about to get fucked by the guyCas says, and
theres something dark, something approving in his eyes, and it makes Dean tilt his hips up to give
Cas a better view and yeah, Dean might be preening a bit, but hes okay with it. He spreads his

legs even further, his left leg dropping off the couch, his right hooking over the top of it, and he
slowly scissors his fingers, making sure Cas gets the full view.
Cas strips away his shirt and tugs impatiently at the laces on his shoes, but as soon as theyre
kicked off, he seems to regain control of himself, and he carefully folds his dress shirt before
standing up to step out of his pants. Dean whines, even as he drives his fingers in, stretching and
filling himself, because this isnt enough. Hes on display, and hes hard, and hes one step away
from writhing on the smooth leather, from begging Cas to hurry the fuck up, and Cas is folding his
clothes like this isnt affecting him at all.
By the time Cas is down to his boxer briefs and flimsy t-shirt, Dean wants to spring up and rip
them from Cass body, but he doesnt, because thats not where Cas wants Deans hands. Cas
wants Deans hands on himself, bringing himself to the edge but not quite over, getting himself
ready for when Cas is ready. Because this is about Cas and what he wants, about molding Dean
into what Cas needs, and Dean shouldnt find that hot, but he arches his back and pleads with his
eyes. For a touch, a look, anything.
Cass gaze drops to between Deans legs, and he watches as Deans fingers slide in then out, and
Dean wants to shy away from such an intimate look, but he cant because even more than he
wants that, he wants Cas to want him.
Only two? Cas asks, slipping his shirt over his head. I think youre underestimating me a bit.
Dean shakes his head, and hes embarrassed at the way his eyes fix on the curl of Cass fingers on
the waistband of his briefs, the way he tracks every small movement, drinks in every tiny bit of
exposed skin as Cas slides the elastic down. Dean has a pretty good idea of how big Cas is and
hes looking forward to it. Looking forward to being filled with it, to being stretched enough that it
doesnt hurt but not enough that its an easy slide.
Deans body is a desperate mess when Cas finally pulls his briefs down. His erection is near
painful and every time he drives up into his fist he has to bite his lip, tamp down on the urge to let
go, because hes so close, but he doesnt want to come until Cas is on him, in him, and its a fight
hes going to lose real soon.
Please, Dean says, and hes not sure what hes asking for, permission, for Cas to hurry the fuck
up, but Cass eyes darken and they roam, possessive over Deans skin.
Hands off, Cas says as he grabs the abandoned bottle of lube and slicks himself up. Dean fights
his bodys instincts as he slides his fingers out, as he reluctantly releases his dick, and he drops his
hands back to grip the arm rest so hes not tempted to touch.
Youre mine now, Cas says, and one of his hands drops to curl over Deans hip, like hes
claiming Deans body as his own, and Deans back arches under the touch, and he groans, deep
and low in his throat, and comes. He ducks his head, embarrassed, because they havent even
gotten started, and apparently hes easy enough that he doesnt even need to be touched, but Cas
grabs his chin and forces his head up, and theres something wild in Cass eyes and something
also awed.
You are incredible, Cas breathes and before Dean can even think about how to respond to that,
Cas lines himself up and drives in. It punches the breath out of Deans chest before hes managed
to catch it again, and he wishes he could work up the energy to clutch at Cass shoulders or wrap
his legs around Cass waist but all he can do is lay there and take it.

Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

I'm posting a day early, because I'm going to be away this weekend, and I'm not sure
if I'll be able to post tomorrow. So, it's here tonight.

Three days later, Dean finds his first note. It sits, innocuous, on the shelves, and he unfolds it,
excited to see what it reads. Hes not quite sure what he was expecting but what he gets isnt it.
Strip and go to the couch. Jack off, but do not stain my couch. Apparently the guy is a neat freak.
Dean cant blame him, because its not like Dean wants a jizz stained couch either.
He undresses with steady hands, excitement thrumming through his body. Is Cas going to watch
him again, like he did the other night? Deans a little worried about how hes getting used to Cas
staring. Its something the guy does a lot; watching Dean constantly like Deans something
special, like what he does isnt perfectly ordinary. Dean doesnt get it, but he certainly gets off on
it, being the center of that much attention, that much wonder, that much appreciation.
It certainly explains why Dean strips with record speed, and he wonders if maybe its a bad thing
hes already this eager. Theyve only been doing this for what, not even a week? And Cas touches
Dean every night, sometimes just a brush of fingers, a hand in his hair, sometimes more, and
Deans still starved for it. It can only be a good thing, he rationalizes. The more hes into it, the
easier the job will be.
Cas is at the kitchen table when Dean walks by on his way to the couch, and he has his dinner set
out in front of him, and hes not even halfway through. Dean hesitates on his next step, because
maybe Cas isnt ready for him. Deans here at seven like hes supposed to be but maybe Cas got
off work late and he wants to eat before they get down to tonight. Only, the note hadnt specified
a time, it issued an order and expected it to be obeyed, and if Cas wants Dean to wait then hell
tell him.
He doesnt.
Dean sinks down on the couch, and hes suddenly nervous, because the back of the couch faces
the kitchen which means Deans obscured by the couch, and hes supposed to jack off while Cas
just sits and eats dinner?
He doesnt get it, but he hasnt really understood much of what makes Cas tick, and honestly,
Dean doesnt need to understand. He just needs to do what hes told. Dean stretches out on the
couch, legs splayed, and he rests his hands on his thighs, framing his cock. Hes not a teenager
anymore so he isnt instantly hard the moment he walks into Cass apartment, but warm
anticipation of this means that it doesnt take Dean long to get there.
When he opens the door to Cass apartment, theres the teasing promise of something, and Dean
doesnt know what it will be. Maybe Dean gets to come, maybe he doesnt. Maybe he gets to
suck Cas down, maybe he doesnt. Maybe he gets a finger up his ass, maybe he gets three. There
are enough maybes that by the time Dean strips down, hes got a buzz under his skin, and its easy
to tap into that buzz now, into all the little fantasies.
If Dean ignores the fact that he knows Cas is eating somewhere behind himhe cant hear

anything because the guy is some kind of silent eater or somethingthen its like hes alone in his
room, jacking off. He has a varied spank bank to select images and fantasies from, but he doesnt.
Because he doesnt want to ignore the fact that Cas is sitting and eating his dinner while Dean is
naked on his couch. Naked and touching himself.
Dean drags his fingertips up his chest just to watch his muscles contract, to watch the fine tremble
of his skin under his hand. He dances back down, his cock stiffening in anticipation of being
touched, but he skirts his erection, smoothes his hands down his thighs instead.
He breathes out a shaky breath, and it sounds too loud in the quiet of the room, but Deans not
sure how loud he actually was. Did Cas hear him? Did Cas have a forkful of whatever the hell
hes eating on his lips when Dean moaned? Did he have to pause and collect himself or did he just
keep eating like nothing was happening?
Dean scratches faint lines into his thighs, the white bleeding to pink almost immediately. He
imagines Cass hands on him, roaming, possessive, the way his fingers would press bruises into
Deans thighs, marking him in a way that only the two of them would know about. Dean leans
back against the couch and lets himself get wrapped up in the thought of Cass hands.
How theyd slide up the backs of Deans thighs until they were resting back behind Deans knees,
and then Cas would push, spreading Deans legs out and up until Dean was completely exposed,
nowhere to hide, nowhere to run, completely at the mercy of Cass stare. He preens under the
imaginary weight of Cass eyes and reaches down to cup his balls, to show Cas how Dean likes
this done.
Deans early sexual years were spent frantically jerking off whenever he could get five minutes
away from his dad and his brothernot that often given that they lived out of motel roomsand
now, when he has the luxury of it, he likes to take his time. He likes to draw it out until his entire
body trembles, until hes afraid hes going to burst if he doesnt just touch himself, and he always
gives in too soon. Dean doesnt have the self-control to do this properly, to draw it out until he
actually shakes apart, and thats why he needs a dom. He needs someone to give that control to,
someone who will push him, who will make him take it when he doesnt think he can, because in
the end he can, and its so much better for the waiting, for the buildup.
Dean can easily imagine Cas crouched between Deans legs, watching, batting Deans hands
away every time Dean gets too close, too frantic, too desperate. He can imagine the curve of Cass
smile, the smug pleasure hed take in Deans whimpers and pleas, can imagine the ghost of Cass
knuckles against his straining erection, a promise of soon.
Dean groans out something that sounds suspiciously like Cass name, and he squeezes his
erection, pleasure flooding his brain and sweeping out any shame he might have been feeling. He
chases the pleasure, his hand moving faster now, trying to catch the high so he can ride it out, but
it remains just out of reach, spiraling higher and higher.
He shuts his eyes to block out anything that might distract him from the slide of his hand, the twist
of his wrist, the way his balls draw up, the tight clench of his stomach. He pictures Cass eyes
staring him down, a silent demand that he come, and thats all it takes for Dean to spurt hot all
over his hand.
Dean basks in the glow of his orgasm, his limbs loose and sleepy, but hes afraid that hell actually
fall asleep if hes not careful so he opens his eyes and jerks back when he sees Cas sitting on the
couch, staring at him. Holy shit, Dean thinks, and he wonders how long Cas has been perched
there for.
Cass hand strokes across Deans cheek, and Dean instinctively leans into the touch. I want to

watch next time, Cas says, and Deans brain stutters over next time, and then hes thinking yes
please, and he might even accidently say it, because Cass lips curl up in a fond smile.
***
After the first morning where Dean wakes up spooned with Cas, hes off for the rest of the day.
He doesnt have much time to panic in the moment, because his restless shifting wakes Cas up and
they end up exchanging lazy morning hand jobs before showering and that isnt actually a bad
way to wake up.
But once Deans out of the apartment and at the garage he starts to panic, because he woke up
with an arm casually slung across his hip. He woke up with a face pressed against his hair. He
woke up warm and safe and happy, and hes not sure what to do with that. Mostly, he tries to
ignore it, because thinking never seems to work out for him.
It helps that hes at the garage, because the garage means hes in mechanic mode and Deans good
at compartmentalizing. While hes here, his thoughts are restricted to cars and Bobby and maybe
the occasional stray thought of Sam or worry over dad, but theres definitely no space for Cas.
And maybe he gets a little distracted, has been distracted, because when he goes to the break room
for lunch he freezes up, because dad is at the table with chicken tenders and fries from Sioux Falls
House of Pizza, and what?
Told you he was spacing at dinner last night, John says when Bobby comes in with the sodas.
Bobby looks at Deans surprised face and shrugs. Not my fault he never looks like hes got a
thought in that pretty little head of his.
Ha ha, Dean says, recovering and sitting down to his Italian sub. Hed thought about pizza or a
burger or maybe even chicken, but then hed flipped through the menu (ridiculous since hed
memorized it years ago) and a sub had sounded delicious. Even the lettuce and tomatoes sounded
good, and Dean wolfs down half the sandwich in one go before he remembers to slow down. Cas
was right that Dean needed to make sure he stayed fed and hydrated. They hadnt scened yet, but
the sex alone works up a tremendous appetite, and if the horrified looks on his dad and Bobbys
faces are anything to go by, theyve noticed.
Sandwich isnt going anywhere, Bobby says.
Dean forces himself to go slower, because he doesnt want to make himself sick and he doesnt
want to attract unwanted attention. Which hes already done by apparently missing something last
night thats led his dad to being here. And now that he looks he realizes that dads in a Singer
jumpsuit and, hold up, dads working here now?
Bobby chuckles around his meatball sub. Think he just figured it out. Your dads picking up a
few hours here.
Thats great news, Dean thinks. Dads been a mess, more of a mess, since they settled down here.
He doesnt do well with staying in one place, because it forces him to confront all the shit in his
life. A job will give him something to do, give him some direction.
Next thing you know, youll be roping Sam in and youll employ all the Winchesters, Dean
jokes.
Bobby looks horrified at the thought. I would never let him near this shop. Hes huge and
uncoordinated.

Dean laughs and takes another giant bite of his sandwich. True. Besides, youve already got the
good looking ones. He grins through a mouthful of bread and lettuce and deli meat.
Something like that, Bobby says and rolls his eyes.
They finish up lunch and John goes back to do inventory with the chick theyve got running all
the computers. Well, theres only one computer, but Bobbys trying electronic organization and
since Deans only okay with computers and Bobbys more likely to put his fist through the screen
than accomplish anything they had to hire someone to help. Charlies peppy and ginger which
would normally be two strikes against her, but the first day she came to work she was proudly
wearing an EvenStar necklace and when it turned out shed read all the histories of Middle Earth
she became instantly awesome in Deans book.
Bobby follows Dean out to the garage where Deans got a pick-up truck raised up so he can get
underneath it. Dean raises his eyebrows when he realizes that Bobbys following him. Im just
rotating the tires. Its a one man job, you know.
I think youre working yourself too hard, Bobby says, no preamble, just straight to the point.
Theyve already had this talk, and Deans already explained that it doesnt matter. He has to work
so hes going to. And so yeah, he missed a bit of last nights dinner conversation, but thats fine.
And hes only been working for Cas for a little more than a week. Its going to take time for Dean
to fall into a routine, for his body to adjust to the new demands hes putting on himself, but hell
adjust. Is that why you gave dad a job? A handful of hours a week isnt going to make a
difference.
Dont be stupid. I gave him the job because he needs to pull his head out of his ass, and Im
hoping this time hell finally be able to do it. He needs to start functioning in the world again, and
he needs to start acting like a father.
His life hasnt exactly been easy, Dean snaps, because hes tired of everyone blaming his dad all
the time. Sam, Bobby, hell even Cas and Cas doesnt even know the guy. Dad didnt come back
entirely right from Vietnam, and he didnt have long to adjust before his lost his wife and his
house in a fire, and yeah dad hasnt been the best father at times, but he has a lot of shit he has to
deal with.
And yours has?
Dean glares and goes to work on the back left tire, because he doesnt want to talk about this. He
and Bobby have had this fight before and neither of them are going to budge. Dad poured his
energy into finding the guy who killed mom, and Dean poured his into protecting Sam, but its
because dad told him to. Dad trusted that Dean could take care of things. He wouldnt have left
Sam and Dean alone all the time if he didnt think Dean could handle it. If they had needed him,
he wouldve been there.
Like that Christmas he didnt make it back for, a traitorous part of Deans mind asks. The
Christmas where Dean had to steal presents from one of the houses up the street from their motel?
Or that time the money ran out before dad got back, and Dean shoplifted for the first time? Or
another time when the money ran out, that night Dean learned that if he fluttered his eyelashes and
bit his lip in the right way then he could get someone to take him back behind a bar and give him a
twenty in exchange for a hand job?
Hes doing the best he can, Dean says.
Do you actually believe your own bullshit? Bobby asks, but he clearly doesnt expect an answer

because he walks away, muttering under his breath.

***
Deans still unsettled by the time he gets to Cass, because he hates thinking too hard about dad
and their lives and all the shit Bobby dredged up, because sometimes Dean does want to get
angry, but kids are supposed to love their parents, no matter what, and he feels like being angry
with dad is some kind of betrayal. And whenever Bobby starts in on him, Dean has to defend dad,
because no one else is around to do it, but really what he wants to do is agree. He wants to be
pissed off about all the nights he and Sam spent alone when they shouldve had dad watching
over them.
Hes so twisted up in his own head, he doesnt register that anything is wrong until he kneels at
the couch and feels something scratch against his ass.
His socks are still on.
Shit.
Dean scrambles to his feet in possibly the least subtle way imaginable, and when he stands up,
Cas is watching him from the kitchen, eyebrow raised. Hes in the middle of putting his dinner
dishes in the dishwasher, but his gaze flicks down, obviously noticing the socks, and Deans face
flushes bright red. Of all the things for him to screw up, its this. He forgot to take his damn socks
off.
He wonders if Cas is going to decide not to hire him because of this. Dean wouldnt blame him,
because people want subs that listen, that obey, that dont forget to do obvious things.
Take them off and meet me at the couch, Cas says, and his voice is level, no hint of anger or
disappointment or anything that might give Dean a read on his mood. Dean strips his socks off
and throws them onto his pile of folded clothes. He cant believe hed been this stupid. And
distracted. Hes been doing this every time he comes here, and stripping isnt exactly rocket
science.
He drags his feet on the way back to the couch, because this is the first time hes screwed up and
hes afraid of what the punishment is going to be. Is Cas going to hurt him? He itches to grab his tshirt and cover up, to run out the door, to do something, anything, but he keeps walking forward
because he doesnt want to screw up again. And, if hes being honest with himself, he doesnt
have any reason to be afraid. Hurting isnt bad. Doesnt have to be bad. He doesnt think Cas will
make it bad. Cas is different. Cas is good. Casis right here.
A hand touches Deans wrist, pulling him back to the present. Dean blinks and the world
refocuses. Hes standing in front of Cas, in the v of his legs, and he goes to kneel, but a tug on his
wrist freezes him.
Up here, Cas says and he draws Dean in.
Dean straddles Cass lap and sits down, Cass hands dropping to Deans waist. His thumbs drag
across Deans hipbones, and Dean doesnt deserve this touch. He doesnt deserve to be held and
cared for, and he wants to slide off and down to the floor, but Cas wants him up here, and Dean
just about chokes on the guilt. Im sorry. He knows it wont make it better, but he wants Cas to
know.
I know. Cass knuckles slide across Deans cheek. I want you to remember three words for
me. Can you do that? He waits for Deans nod before continuing. Boat. Counter. Chartreuse.

Repeat them back to me.

Dean doesnt understand. This is his punishment? Some kind of memory game? Uh, boat.
Counter. Charchartreuse. He stumbles over the last one, because its not the kind of word he
hears all the time, but Cas smoothes away his blush.
Good. Now, tell me whats on your mind?
What?
Cas smiles, fond, and a little amused. You were obviously distracted when you came here today.
Why?
Its not important.
The hand still on Deans hip tightens. Obviously it was. Im not angry with you, but I will be if
you keep lying to me.
Dean sits back, resting his full weight on Cass lap. This is too personal, and hed promised
himself that he wasnt going to get personal, but Cas wants him to talk about it. Hes interested in
Deans life, or, at the very least, interested in why Dean cant focus on Cas and what Cas wants.
All Dean needs to do is clear his head and they can go back to their usual arrangement; TV, sex,
the things Deans been hired for.
I, Dean doesnt even know what to say. My dad got a job. It feels like a tremendous effort to
get the words out, and Cas rewards him with silence, with an arched eyebrow, with a nonverbal
demand to keep talking, which Dean thinks is unfair. Its unfair, and he still doesnt know where
to go with this. Hes spun it out in his head every which way, hes overthought it in every possible
manner, and he doesnt want to think anymore. Being here is supposed to be about being here,
having his head cleared and emptied out, to be filled with Cass thoughts. Hed made a mistake by
not pulling himself into Cas mode outside the door but lingering on dad and Bobby and the garage
and everything isnt going to help.
Isnt Cas his dom? Doesnt he know how to sink Dean into that headspace then pull him out,
reconstruct him? They havent done anything with restraints or paddles or cock rings or really
anything at all yet, but Cas has to know how. Why isnt he doing any of that?
Dean risks a look at Cas, and hes relaxed against the couch, his hands resting casual on Deans
thighs. He doesnt look angry or upset or impatient. Hes watching Dean, waiting, evaluating, and
Deans chest aches to make this right, to make Cas smile or touch his face again. Something.
Anything.
This isnt the first time, Dean says and his voice is quiet and his words weigh heavy in the
silence of the room. He looks around even though he knows no one else is here, because hes
saying things he shouldnt. Hes saying things he barely even dares to think, and now hes
confessing them to Cas, and if this isnt a complete mind fuck then Dean doesnt know what is.
Cass fingers cup Deans chin and turn his head back so hes looking at Cas. Its only the two of
them in the room and Cas wants to know. Hes asked, not because he feels like he should, but
because he wants answers, and he wants Dean to give them to him and that gives Dean the
strength to piece together the forbidden bits of his thoughts. Every once in awhile hell get a job,
but he can never hold it for long, and Im worried. Sams going to college in the fall. Hes packing
up and leaving. Hes moving on with his life, and Im, well, Im moving. Ive got a job, two now,
and its not the dream life but its a life. And dadits like someone learning to drive a stick for
the first time. The jerky start and stop, the stalling. He wants to make it work, but he always fails,

and Im tired of getting my hopes up.

Because Sam doesnt need Dean anymore, or he wont soon. Hes going to ace college, and hes
going to rock grad school, and then hes going to be a lawyer and have a life of his own, but Dean
wont be free. Hell still have dad to take care of and support, and Dean will never get to be just
Dean. He feels like the most selfish, ungrateful person in the world for even thinking it.
Cass fingers press into Deans jaw, not painful, just enough to get Deans attention. You cant
save everyone.
Dean is desperate to cling to the words, to reel them in and clutch them to his chest, but he lets
them slide right off his shoulders instead, because theyre an excuse for failure. Its Deans duty as
a son to be there for his dad, to pick him up the way dads picked Dean up dozens of times.
Deans saved Sam; he can save dad, too.
Cass arms link around Deans waist, the touch warm, offering comfort that Dean shouldnt accept
but eagerly drinks up. Hes a bad son, a bad sub, and Cas is being nice to him, and thats not how
this works. He drops his hands to Cass fly, because he should give Cas something, but Cas
shakes his head, and Deans hands still.
The news is on, Cas says, like they havent had a deep, important conversation, like Dean isnt
naked and willing in his lap, like Dean isnt one nervous ball of anticipation for his upcoming
punishment. The three words cant be it. There has to be more, and Deans skin is crawling with
the nervous fear of it. Up here or down there?
Up here would probably mean settling his back against Cass chest, letting Cas wrap his arms
around him, hold him, and Dean wants it, but he doesnt deserve it so he slides down to the floor
where theres no cushion waiting for him. Hes careful not to touch Cass legs, careful to keep his
posture straight even though its going to hurt soon. Dean needs to prove that he can be good
before he takes anything else.
He suffers through the news, and he only gets bits and pieces of whats going on because his mind
wont shut off. Hes on edge, waiting for the TV to turn off, waiting for Cas to order him to the
bedroom, to grab his hair and yank, but theres nothing. Theres only the maddening sound of
some news anchor droning on about the drop in student test scores.
His knees begin to ache sometime during the broadcast, and the pain helps to distract him. It isnt
pleasant, but he lets it consume his thoughts, lets it push everything away until all he can feel is the
dull throb of his pulse in his knees.
He doesnt know how long he floats for before a hand touches his shoulder, calling him back to
reality. Cas has to help him to his feet, and Dean hobbles all the way to the bedroom. Stubborn,
Cas says when they get there and he has Dean on his back. He touches the reddened flesh and
shakes his head, a look approaching fond on his face. Then he presses his thumb against the skin
just to see Dean gasp. I should put you on your hands and knees, but I wont.
He ignores Deans half-hearted protest and nudges Deans legs apart. Relax, he says reaching
across Deans body to the nightstand, where he keeps the lube. Relax? Dean wants to laugh, but
Cass hand, the one not holding the lube, skims down the innermost part of Deans thigh, and
Deans body starts to catch up to whats going on; naked, bed, lube, and he doesnt relax but the
tension does ease out of his body, because all of this screams sex, and hes completely onboard
with sex.
Its weird, having this level of attraction for a client. Its certainly nice, the job is easier when hes
not trying to focus both on being a good sub and whatever fantasy will get him off when it comes

time, and hes not sure he wouldve been able to do the long term thing without any kind of
attraction there. The one-time clients, its usually completely about them and what they need from
Dean to get off, and a lot of them werent too concerned about whether Dean got off in the
process, but Cas is different. For reasons Dean cant quite puzzle out, he wants Dean to enjoy this.
No, he wants something more than that, he wants Dean to want it, and Deans afraid at how easily
hes come to do just that.
Case in point, Cas draws a slick finger up the crack of Deans ass, and Dean shivers at the touch
before pressing incrementally into it. Cas chuckles and shakes his head, and Dean forces himself
to lie still as the touches become bolder but no less teasing. Cass finger dances across Deans
skin, circling, skimming his hole, and the more Cas teases, the harder Dean gets, and the more he
wants to break down and ask for more, but theres a half-smile tugging at Cass lips that suggests
hes having fun and that no matter how prettily Dean begs, hes not getting more until Cas is good
and ready.
Deans body is shaking with the effort it takes to stay still by the time Cass finger finally nudges
his entrance and for a brief, heart stopping moment, Deans terrified that Cas is going to pull back
and smirk, but he pushes the finger in, and Dean breathes a grateful sigh of relief. Now that Cas
has apparently decided to get down to it, he doesnt waste any time, a second finger quickly
added, the burn just right. Dean wonders if Cas remembers that he likes it that way or if its just
coincidence and then Cas is bending his head, catching the tip of Deans erection between his lips,
and Deans ability for complex thought flies right out of his brain.
The tentative licks, the soft sucking is completely at odds with harsh thrust of Cass fingers, and
Deans not sure which to concentrate on. He focuses on the fingers, and then Cas does something
with his tongue, claiming Deans attention and then Cass fingers twist and press, and Deans
choking on his breath, and Cas laughs, a filthy chuckle around Deans dick.
Deans spiraling, higher and higher, and hes afraid he isnt going to last, afraid that hes going to
come and that will break Cass command to stay still, and he makes a pitiful sound in the back of
his throat, because he doesnt want this to stop, but he needs it to, and the worst part is when Cas
actually listens, and he pulls back, and Deans left feeling empty and untouched.
Eager, Cas says, approvingly, and he climbs off the bed so he can strip off his clothes, and Dean
supposes he cant be too angry that Cas stopped to do this, because now hell get to feel more of
Cass skin on him. Once Cas is naked and back on the bed, he slicks up, and he drags the tip of
his cock across the rim of Deans hole, and Deans entire body shudders.
Yeah, Cas says, and he drives in in one practiced thrust. You can move now. He pulls back
and drives in again, and Dean meets his thrust and a groan spills from Deans lips. Cant come
yet though. Cas wraps a hand around Deans dick, fisting it in time with his thrusts. Not until
you give me the words.
The words, Dean thinks, but the rest of the thought is driven out of him when Cas grips his hips
and thrusts forward. Dean curls his hands in the comforter to keep himself from jerking off, and
theres something hes supposed to be thinking about. Something that Cas just said andCass
next thrust, as brutal as the last, disrupts Deans train of thought.
Cass rhythm stays insistent, nailing Deans prostrate every time, and theres something Deans
supposed to be thinking about, but all he can concentrate on is the pleasure building under his
skin, the desperate strain of his erection, the bruises Cass fingers are going to leave.
The next time Cas bottoms out, he doesnt pull back right away, instead leaning in so his mouth is
next to Deans ear. Remember before I come or you dont get to.

Remember what, Dean wants to know, and he feels a flicker of recognition, an echo of an earlier
conversation, and it threatens to disappear when Cas spreads his legs wider, but Dean manages to
hold onto it this time. Words. He has to say something. Cas told him to remember something
earlier, and, Boat, Dean gasps out as one of Cass fingers circles Deans already stretched out
hole. Its a break from the fucking but not much of one, and Dean doesnt have a lot of time to
gather his thoughts before Cas is nudging the rim, like hes thinking about trying to fit his finger in
there too.
Deans body clenches at the thought, and Cass hips drive deeper at the sensation. Two more,
Cas reminds him, a wicked smile on his lips as the finger drags up Deans body, tracing over his
balls, running up the length of his shaft. The touch reminds Dean of how hard he is, and that if he
doesnt get this right, he has a long, unfulfilled night ahead of him.
Words, he thinks, trying to block out the finger tracing the head of his dick. Boat. Boat. Boat,
Counter! he exclaims, and Cas gathers up the drop of precome and brings it to his lips, licking it
off.
One more, he says and then he pulls back and thrusts into Dean again, no mercy as he hits his
prostrate. Cass thrusts are getting more erratic, hes getting close, and Dean still has one word left
to remember, and his brain cant scramble together enough power to figure it out.
Boat. Counter. Something. Boat. Counter. ChDean arches his back and groans, and this would
be so much easier if Cas wasnt so damn distracting. Cas has got a hand wrapped around Deans
erection which is going to end up being a dirty tease if Dean cant remember this last word. Cass
hand squeezes gently, a suggestion of what Dean can have only if he can get his brain to work.
Its a weird word. One Deans never heard before and thats why he cant remember it. Boat,
counter, blank. Boat, counter, Chartreuse! He practically screams it, and Cas leans down to nip
Deans ear, murmur a throaty, Good boy, and thats it. Dean comes in wet, hot bursts against his
stomach, and Cas only has a few more thrusts in him before hes coming as well.
Cas slumps against him and they lay like that for a few minutes, Cas head resting against the
jackhammer of Deans heart. Just as Deans starting to float away into sleep, Cas sits up and tugs
Dean along with him. We need to get cleaned up, he says. And then bed. I promise.
Bed sounds good. Moving doesnt sound quite as good, but Cas helps Dean along, a warm hand
on the small of his back. The hand stays there while they drag a washcloth through the mess on
Deans stomach, between his legs, and it stays there as they brush their teeth. Its even there when
they get into bed, and Dean finds that he doesnt mind curling into the heat of Cass body, not
when there a palm against his back, anchoring him. Not when he finally feels like he deserves to
have the touch again.
Dont forget again, Cas murmurs against Deans forehead.
Dean doesnt intend to.

Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Sorry about all of you who had to read the version of the last chapter with the
mistake. It's been fixed thanks to some readers that are more astute than I am.
Also, there's some sub drop in this chapter so Dean briefly goes to a pretty nasty
place in his head so warnings for that.

Ugh, I hate midterms. Sam flops down into one of the kitchen chairs, limbs all long and
overdramatic.
Dean rolls his eyes as he sticks dinner in the oven. One, youre a genius so they should be easy.
Two, you get half days so you arent stuck in school all the time. Three, they dont even matter
because youre already into college.
Sam sighs the sigh of someone who is long suffering and unappreciated. I want to be
valedictorian so grades are important to me. When Dean doesnt say anything to that, Sam huffs
again, extra loud. Arent you going to ask me what midterms are giving me the most trouble?
That would imply that I actually cared about your high school woes, Dean says, but once he
sets the timer and cleans up the prep from dinner, he plops down on one of the other chairs. What
are you having problems with?
We took a vote in our English class for whether we wanted a prompt essay or a passage analysis,
and the class voted on passage analysis which is total bullshit. A prompt essay wouldve meant we
couldve written on anything, and I wanted to write a paper on A Prayer for Owen Meaney, but
no, now Im going to have to analyze a passage from Tess of the DUrbervilles.
Ooh, Owen Meanys the one with the armadillo, right? Dean asks.
Sam rolls his eyes. Are you serious? Thats what youre fixating on? Did you miss the part where
I have to write on Tess? I hate the fallen woman shit. We had to read Mill on the Floss for an
outside project and then write a comparison essay, and it was brutal.
And yet, youre still in the running to be valedictorian? Clearly it wasnt that brutal. You just like
to whine.
What? Sam bursts out of his chair, finding some energy. Lets see who the real whiner is.
Dean barely has time to scramble out of his chair before Sams lunging for him, and they end up
having an impromptu wrestling match on the living room floor. Dean knocks his arm off the
coffee table at some point, and it hurts like a bitch, but Sam laughs at him and calls him a wuss so
Dean does what any brother would do; he gets Sam in a headlock and noogies the hell out of him.
Theyre a laughing mess by the time Bobby and dad get back from work. Bobby just shakes his
head and goes off to take a shower.
***

Deans still riding his high when he gets to Cass apartment, but he makes sure he remembers to
strip off every article of clothing before going over to the couch. He doesnt try to check his smile,
because he figures being happy wont upset Cas, but he does make sure its a general happiness
and that thoughts of Sam and brotherly bonding are pushed to the far corners of his mind.
Cas is still eating, and he has Dean kneel next to him, and he chats about his day at the office and
occasionally feeds Dean bits of his dinner. Deans already eaten, and his lasagna had been
delicious, but he has a soft spot for potatoes, and Cas has the red roasted ones that are cooked to
perfection, the outsides salty and crunchy and the insides creamy and buttery. Dean may or may
not moan around his first forkful. Cass eyes darken at the sound, and Dean wraps his lips around
the fork suggestively the next time its offered to him, and he tries not to grin when the next potato
is offered to him from Cass fingers.
Smug is not a good look on you, Cas says which is a blatant lie because everything is a good
look on Dean, but Dean tries to tone it down, and he goes for demure the next time hes given
food, looking up at Cas through lowered lashes. Cas doesnt buy it for a second, and he gives
Dean a sharp look thats countered by the way his thumb drags against Deans bottom lip after he
gives him the potato.
Youre in a mood tonight, Cas says, but he smiles, and it takes Dean a moment but he realizes
that hes happy here. Its not just the carryover from messing around with Sam and a good dinner
with his family. Hes happy here, at Cass side, being handfed potatoes. Even without the potatoes
he thinks hed be happy, and the smile freezes on his face, because hes not sure what to do with
that. Being happy was never part of this equation.
Cas finishes his dinner and he goes to put his empty tray outside while Dean puts the silverware
and Cass glass into the dishwasher. They meet back at the couch, and Cas pats his lap, and Dean
slides into place and willingly gets pulled down for a kiss. Cas kisses slow and deep, and his
hands run up Deans arms. Its a light touch, but Dean cant help his small gasp when Cass hand
touches his bruise.
Cas immediately pulls back, and his gaze zeroes in on the blue-purple stripe across Deans bicep.
Dean wants to go back to kissing, but Cas is completely distracted now, his fingers framing the
mark, and he turns an expectant eye on Dean.
It was an accident, Dean says. Sam and I were wrestling. I hit a table. Its, Dean sucks in a
sharp breath as Cas presses his fingers into the bruise, its fine.
Fine, Cas repeats, and he eases up, but he stares at the bruise for a long time and then he slides
his gaze up to Deans neck, and Dean knows exactly what hes thinking, and hed like nothing
more than to feel Cass lips, maybe even his teeth, on Deans neck, but thats a definite no.
Anywhere a t-shirt and jeans covers, he says instead, and in an instant hes on his back on the
couch, Cas looming over him. Cas eyes Deans chest, hungry, wanting, and his gaze skitters from
Deans collarbone to his nipples to his hipbones like he cant decide what he wants to mark up
first.
***
Dean wears the marks like badges for the rest of the week, and theres a bounce in his step he
cant hide, but no one knows the reasons why. Sometimes, in the middle of a shift, Dean will
touch his fingers to his shirt or his pants where one of the marks is covered up, and hell smile at
the memory of Cass lips or his teeth or, in a few cases, the steady pressure of his fingers. And
when Deans at home, he excuses himself to his room or the bathroom and he closes and locks the
door before dropping his pants or pulling up his shirt so he can see the marks or trace over them.

Bobby notices that somethings up, because he corners Dean after lunch one day. Deans tossing
the trash from their takeout in the dumpster out back and when he turns around, Bobbys suddenly
there, in his space.
The hell, Bobby? Dean demands, because there was absolutely no need for him to sneak up on
Dean like that.
Who is she? Bobby asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
Who is who?
The girl thats got you grinning like an idiot. Im not stupid, boy. Who is she?
Has Dean really been that obvious? He scrambles for the right answer, because he obviously cant
say what hes actually up to, but if he mentions that theres a girl then Bobbys going to mention it
to Sam, and Sams going to want to meet her, and it isnt even a her, and theres no way they can
meet Cas, and Dean needs to start compartmentalizing again. Hes getting sloppy.
Unless shes not a girl, Bobby says slowly, like hes testing the theory out, and Dean knows his
face has given it away when Bobbys eyebrows shoot straight up. Well. Didnt see that one
coming.
Deans heart skips a beat and then picks up a panicked rhythm, because hes purposefully never
had this conversation with anyone. He used to pretend that the whole sex with guys things was
tied to the submissive thing, and he did it for money and that was it, but thats not true. There are
some guys he finds attractive just like there are some people he enjoys subbing for. Cas falls into
both those categories, and Dean starting to get a little worried about that.
Relax, Bobby says. Im not going to start yelling at you or anything.
Okay. Its not a big deal or anything.
Back on track, Bobby says. Whos the guy? I havent seen you this happy in a while. Its a
good look on you.
Dean shrugs. Just some guy. Its not important.
Hmph. Well, Im glad even if youre going to be all secretive about it. Youve been working
your ass off for years and then the second job, and its about time you did something for yourself.
Dean would laugh because the Cas situation isnt doing something for himself. Its his job so its
still doing something for Sam, but sometimes Dean can forget that and believe hes there because
he wants to be, because Cas for some reason wants him. Thinking that way makes Deans insides
feel warm, and it does make him happy but that kind of thinking is dangerous so Dean slaps on a
smile and ruins the moment. How do you know Im doing the doing? Maybe I like being done.
He waggles his eyebrows and Bobby groans.
I get the hint. Personal conversation done, but if you ever give me details about your sex life ever
again I will box your ears so hard youll be crying for days.
Dean grins and salutes. Threat duly noted.
***
Last night had been Sunday and Cas and Dean kept with their tradition of a relaxed night
watching TV and then a slow fuck on the sofa after. But now its Monday night, and theres a

watching TV and then a slow fuck on the sofa after. But now its Monday night, and theres a
white square of paper on the shelves, and Dean cant help the way his cock twitches at the sight,
because notes mean Cas wants something and hopefully that means something new. And a
something that will lead to sex.
Dean likes the slow nights, because Cas likes to drape his body over Deans so theyre touching
from Cass lips against Deans shoulder to Cass stomach against the dip of Deans back, to Cass
toes against Deans ankles. Cas completely covers Dean and wraps his arms around him, and
slides in slow, calculated rolls of his hips, and Dean cant get enough of it. His only complaint is
that when hes stomach down on the couch, he cant wrap his arms around Cas in return, cant
pull him in until Dean can bury his face in Cass neck, cant cling to him the way Dean really
wants to.
That doesnt mean he isnt excited for tonight, though. He takes his clothes off extra slow, extra
careful tonight. He doesnt take his eyes off the paper, letting the anticipation build under his skin.
He wonders if Cas is finally going to break out the restraints tonight. Dean knows Cas has to have
them hidden away somewhere, and he understands that Cas has been gradually bringing him into
this arrangement of theirs, and hes grateful for it, but Deans ready for the next step. Cas hasnt
done anything Dean doesnt like yet, and he trusts him enough to let Cas tie him up. If not
handcuffs then maybe just a tie? A simple knot thats easy to get out of?
By the time Deans naked and reaching for the note, his hands are trembling, and he carefully
unfolds it. I want to watch this time. Go straight to the bed, get on your hands and knees and get
yourself off. No touching your ass. Dean feels a bit of a thrill go through him, and he goes back to
the bedroom, not even daring a look over at the kitchen table to see if Cas is still eating or if hes
even there.
When Dean gets to the bedroom its empty so he assumes Cas is still eating dinner, but he climbs
onto the bed, because Cas knows that hes here, knows the instructions were laid out, and when
hes ready hell come in. And Dean will be doing exactly what hes supposed to be doing when
Cas gets here.
Dean braces himself on the bed, one forearm on the mattress, knees spread, and his right hand
reaches down to stroke his cock. Its different than the last time he did this, when he was on the
couch, because hes facing the headboard, and his ass is to the door, and he feels exposed and a
little ridiculous, but this is what Cas wanted.
Dean focuses on that. Cas wants him like this, spread out and open for Cass viewing, and maybe
Cas is leaning against the doorway, casually eating Chinese takeout. Maybe hes still in the
kitchen, giving Dean a few minutes to get himself worked up, to get himself to the point where his
thighs are trembling, and his skin is covered in a slick sheen of sweat.
This isnt Deans favorite position, because even when hes alone in his room with the door
locked he feels exposed and vulnerable with his head down and ass up like this, and it means that
he can only have one hand touching himself, but he thrusts into his fist and thinks about Cas
standing over his notepad, contemplating what he was going to write for Dean to do tonight. Had
he had this in mind when he sat down with the paper? Has he been thinking about this since the
night on the couch?
Dean groans at the thought, and he drops his mouth his arm and bites the meat of his muscle to
keep his next groan in. He wants to be able to hear Cas come in. He wants to know the moment
Cas is here, but Dean cant control the sound of his breathing, and his harsh pants fill the room as
he builds up to his orgasm, and he worries for a moment that Cas isnt here. Maybe hed expected
Dean to last longer, and Deans going to come and then roll over and find the room empty.
Cas, Dean breathes, not quite a groan, not quite a plea, a mixture of both, and from somewhere

behind him, Dean hears a sharp intake of breath. Cas is in the room with him. Cas is here, and
hes listening, and hes watching, and Deans arm has started to ache from holding him up, but he
ignores it and arches his back just a little bit more, because he knows he has an audience.
You like that? Cas asks, and his voice is getting closer. You like knowing that Im here?
Yes, Dean says, and the word isnt enough to capture everything hes feeling, but he cant
manage any more. He likes that Cas is here watching, because thats why hes doing this. Cas
wants this, and Dean wants to give it to him, but he wants to know that Cas is liking it, is enjoying
it as much as Dean is.
I can tell, Cas says, his voice low and draping over Deans shoulders. You should see yourself,
Dean. Fucking into your fist and driving out, that ass of yours searching for something. What do
you want most, you think? My fingers? My cock? My tongue? The last is a filthy suggestion,
Cass tongue curling over the word, and Dean moans and his hips stutter, and Cas laughs, pleased.
Is that what youre thrusting back looking for, Dean? You want my tongue in your ass? Want me
licking you out? Fucking you with it while you touch yourself?
Deans skin burns with the need to be touched. He wants Cass hands on his ass, squeezing the
muscle, pulling it apart. He wants to be bared for Cass tongue. He wants to be filled up, he wants
to come with Cass tongue in his ass, but there isnt even a ghost of a touch across his skin.
Look at you, Cas says in wonder. So desperate for it, pushing back and all youre getting is the
open air of the room. I bet if I held a finger out, youd fuck back onto it, wouldnt you? I wouldnt
even have to move, youd do all the work. Take anything I offered.
Dean comes to the realization that all Cas is going to do is tease a moment too late, and he twists
his dick a touch too hard in frustration, and bites back all the curses he wants to throw at Cas,
because this is completely unfair. He wants Cas to make good on his suggestions. He wants some
kind of touch, any touch, even if its just a single finger against the arch of his foot. He wants to be
connected to Cas beyond the sound of his voice and the feel of his gaze, heavy on Deans ass.
Come on, Dean, Cas calls and he sounds mocking now. Isnt this enough for you? Your
imagination isnt enough? You need more?
No, Dean thinks, and he grits his teeth and pushes his fatigue and the ache in his shoulder out of
his mind, because he doesnt need more. He wants more, he wants it so bad, but Cas wanted Dean
to get himself off like this, and Deanll do it. He spins out the latest scenario, imagines the brush of
Cass finger against Deans crack, the thrill that would go up his spine, the clench of his stomach.
How hed push back against the finger, driving it all the way in and then hed thrust forward into
his hand, back against Cass finger.
He imagines Cas standing by the bed, completely dressed, completely put together from the tightly
laced shoes to the perfectly pressed pants to the wrinkle free button down. Hed even be wearing a
tie clip, and hed be standing there, composed, disinterested, while Dean shook apart from the
simple touch of Cass finger.
Yeah, Dean gasps, his hips losing their rhythm and jarring his shoulder on every thrust. He
imagines Cas forgetting, pulling his finger back, and Deans desperate thrust to get it all the back
inside him. Please, fuck, just please, Dean comes with a low groan and he slumps forward on
the bed to ride out the aftershocks, his body no longer able to hold himself up.
Shit, Cas groans, and Dean feels the dip of the bed as Cas moves closer, until hes straddling
Deans thighs, and he can hear Cass labored breathing, the slick slide of his hand, and Dean
wonders if he should roll over, offer to suck Cas off, but its too much effort to move. A minute

later, maybe more because Deans floating and has no sense of time, Cass come stripes Deans
back, and he cant even work up the energy to be irritated by that. Not even when Cas rubs it into
Deans skin. He takes extra long rubbing it into Deans scars, and Dean tenses up at the first touch
but then he relaxes, because this is Cass way of claiming him, of writing over the marks without
hurting him, and Deans more okay with this than maybe he should be.
It helps that Cas is whispering praises to Dean the whole time. You did so well. You were
gorgeous. So good for me. The way you reacted when you heard my voice. You dont even
realize what you do to me, do you?
Dean soaks up the words, tucks them deep inside himself where they can keep him warm, where
he can reach them whenever hes feeling low, where no one else can ever take them, and he lets
himself coast in the afterglow until Cas, apparently satisfied with his work, hauls Dean to the
bathroom so they can clean up.
Dean puts up a token protest when Cas takes the washcloth to his back, not because he wants
dried come on his skin, but because he doesnt want Cas to wash off the proof that he wants
Dean, that he wants to mark Dean as his.
Hey, Cas says, and Dean stops fighting and drags his fingers over the yellowing bruise on his
hipbone.
I like being yours, Dean says, and Cass hand pauses its washing, and Deans afraid hes done
something wrong, until he hears the slow, shaky inhale behind him.
If you sign on after the trial, Cas says and his voice wavers, the most unsteady Dean has ever
heard him, Ill get you a collar. Would you like that?
Dean spins around, and even though the countertop digs painfully into his back, he pulls Cas in
and kisses him, desperate to show how very much hed like that.
***
Deans about two hours into his shift at the garage when last night really hits him. Dean and Cas
had rather enthusiastic sex in the shower this morning after Dean had buckled and used Cass
damn shampoo willingly for the first time, and then Cas was running late so breakfast was rushed
and then Cas was gone and Dean was here, and he was working away when his mind flashed to
last night.
To how fucking pathetic hed been. Moaning and making a spectacle of himself on Cass bed like
some shameless whore. His face turns bright red at the thought of what he must have looked like,
and he squeezes his eyes shut and digs the heels of his palms into his forehead to try and get the
image out.
Hes done weird things for clients before, but he didnt always like them. Last night? Hed liked
that. A lot. And Cas knew it. Dean had been begging for Cas to touch him, to give him anything,
and Cas knows now how needy Dean is. How desperately Dean wants him.
A wave of nausea washes through him, and Dean has to pause what hes doing and put his head
between his legs to make sure he doesnt actually throw up. Fuck, hes embarrassing.
You alright?
Dean jumps at the sound of his dads voice, and his face turns even redder, because he cant be
looking at his dad right now with all the perverted shit thats going through his head. Dean nods
and looks down at the ground. Yeah. Fine. Just, you know. Dean waves his hand like the

motion will make up for the words he cant manage to get out.
Hung over?
Something like that, Dean says. I should get this car fixed up before Bobby comes barking at
me.
Okay, John says and he doesnt sound completely convinced. You know if youre sick you
just have to say something, right?
Yep! Dean forces a smile and gives his dad a jaunty little wave before burying himself in the car
again. He just needs to focus on work. Think about work and cars and nothing about Cas or Cass
bed or last night andfuck. Its going to be a long shift.
***
Deans not feeling any better by the time he gets to Cass tonight, because his days only gotten
weirder. Hed almost bit Charlies head off about something completely trivial and then hed
wanted to cry when Bobby snapped at him for it, and hed had to go to the bathroom and suck in
deep breaths until he managed to get himself under control. Hes felt off all day, something he
cant quite place, something made better, and worse, by the hug Sam gave him.
He must have looked pretty bad for Sam to hug him, and Sam had been warm, and his arms had
wrapped all the way around Dean. Dean hadnt wanted to pull away, but theyre not the kind of
families that hug so Dean had pushed Sam away with a roll of his eyes before heading over to
Cass.
Cas calls him on it right away. Hes about three quarters of the way through his dinner when Dean
comes in, and his eyes snap straight to Deans face, and his mouth thins out into a straight line and
he asks, What happened?
I dont know.
Cass eyebrows pull together, and he pulls the napkin off his lap and sets it on the table. Dont lie
to me. What happened?
I dont know! Dean shouts, and he knows he shouldnt have raised his voice, but hes had a
shitty day, and he feels like his body isnt in his control, doing things and feeling things without
his permission, and its like trying to play catch up, and hes spent all day trying to find the source
the problem so he can fix it, but he cant, and Cas demanding answers isnt going to make them
magically appear.
And then Dean realizes that he just shouted at his dom, just raised his voice, disrespected him, and
Dean wants to turn and flee, to take a step back, but he doesnt. Hes screwed up, and hell take
the punishment for it.
Im sorry, Dean says, softer now, and he risks a look up. Cas is studying him, no apparent anger
on his face, just concern, and that freaks Dean out more than the anger. The anger he can handle.
Its what he expects. Anger would mean punishment, and Dean knows what to do with that. He
doesnt know what the concern is supposed to mean.
Tell me how you felt, then, Cas says, still carefully controlled, and Dean doesnt understand
how Cas holds himself together all the time.
I, Dean doesnt talk about feelings. His dad always taught him that feelings were a weakness
and that the only acceptable time to talk about them was if you were a girl and you were at a

sleepover and you had ice cream.

This is important, Cas says. Have you been feeling off all day?
Dean nods. Ive been all over the place. I thought I was going to be sick this morning and then I
yelled at Charlie, and shes the nicest, least offensive person in the world, and then Bobby yelled
at me, and I felt like he was gutting me. Dean hesitates when he thinks about what sparked this
all off, because he doesnt know how to tell Cas that hes ashamed of being with him, but Cas
wants to know everything, and he looks like hes in serious mode, and Deans already this far in.
Might as well go all the way, right?
Theres something else, Cas prompts.
Dean nods. IThis all startedFuck, he breathes out, and he drags his hands through his hair.
Last night. I wasHow could you, he cant even get a full thought out, his face burning when
he thinks about last night and the next thing he registers is the cool touch of Cass palm against his
cheek.
Dean, I need you to look at me, Cas says, and Dean doesnt want to, and its low that Cas
pulled out the big guns, saying need instead of just giving Dean an order, because in the mood
Deans in now, he probably wouldve blown it off, and maybe Cas knows that. He certainly knew
how to play Dean last night and maybe hes doing it again now.
The knowledge that Cas has got his number doesnt stop Dean from meeting Cass gaze. The
concern is still there, but its obscured by understanding and warmth and acceptance and all these
things Dean doesnt understand. Doesnt deserve.
Im sorry, Cas says, and he keeps the hand on Deans cheek, grounding him. We shouldve
talked about this earlier. I thoughtDoesnt matter. We shouldve talked about it. Dean, do you
know what sub-drop is?
Deans tempted to roll his eyes, but he doesnt, because Cas has already cut him a break, and
Dean doesnt want to push his luck. Yeah. Its why my body feels like shit sometimes after a
night with a client. Cas makes a go on gesture. Has to do with endorphins and some other
science stuff but its what makes me feel tired or sore or whatever.
Theres an emotional component, Cas says. It can leave you feeling lost, depressed, hung over.
It can make you question how you let the scene happen. Guilt, shame, doubt, any of this sound
familiar?
I, Dean tries to look away, but Cass hand holds him in place. Im feeling what I am now
because of what I did last night not because my hormones are all messed up. I was, Deans face
twists up as he tries to find the right words for it.
Beautiful, Cas says, pressing his finger to Deans lips to quiet his protests. Breathtaking. You
have no idea, do you? Cas shakes his head when Dean opens his mouth to answer. Were going
to talk about this in the bedroom.
The bedroom. Where all this started. Dean is hesitant, but Cas stands up and he leaves his dinner
on the table and holds a hand out. Trust me, Dean. I know what Im doing.
Against all better judgment, Dean reaches out and takes Cass hand, letting his fingers slip through
the spaces between Cass. He still doesnt take the first step, though, and his gaze doesnt leave
the remains of Cass dinner. You didnt finish eating.
This, Cas pauses, corrects himself, You are more important than my dinner.

Dean doesnt know what to do with a bombshell statement like that so he just lets himself be led
into the bedroom. His steps stutter when he sees the bed, because it brings back memories, flashes
of shame and things he wants to avoid thinking about, but Cas guides him through it until theyre
sitting side by side on the edge of the bed. Dean half-expects Cas to push him down or to tell him
to get up on his hands and knees again, but he doesnt. He wraps one arm around Deans waist,
puts his other hand on Deans thigh and just looks at him.
Youre feeling shame about last night, Cas says, summarizing their conversation from the
kitchen.
A couple hours too late. Why hadnt Deans brain been functioning last night when he couldve
stopped things? Oh, right, itd been fucking encouraging him. It was spinning out scenarios where
Cas was fucking him, eating him out, and Dean was moaning for it.
You shouldnt feel shame for something you enjoy, Cas says. His palm rubs smooth circles on
Deans thigh. The touch distracts Dean from the pull of his own thoughts, makes him pliant and
willing to listen to Cas. You have no idea how breathtaking you were. Youve probably
masturbated hundreds of times on your own, and all you need is yourself, but last night, seeing
you want me like thatIt was incredible, Dean. You were incredible.
Dean turns away, because he doesnt need to listen to this bullshit, but Cas cups his chin and turns
his head so theyre looking at each other, eye to eye. You are more than I ever thought you
would be, and I had high hopes for you to start with.
Dean doesnt understand. He doesnt exceed expectations. Thats the kind of kid Sam is. People
look at Dean with disappointment or regret, and they tell him they expected more. They dont tell
him hes gone above and beyond. And what the hell did Dean even do? Jack off moaning Cass
name?
You dont believe me, Cas says and he sounds sad, probably because it means Deans going to
be reluctant to slut it up for him again. I dont think any less of you for what you did last night.
You did what I asked, and you were incredibly hot doing it. But, last night was about me, and
tonight, is about you. What do you need from me?
Dean blinks twice and doesnt answer right away, because he doesnt understand. What does he
need? That isnt how this works. Hes a sub, its his job to do what Cas wants.
Aftercare, Cas says, I know you know what it is. Now, Cass thumb smoothes across Deans
jaw line, what do you need from me?
Dean needs him to go away. He needs him to stop asking for such ridiculous things. He needs his
life to go back to normal, but he needs this job, and part of him actually kind of likes it. He needs
that part of him to go away. Only, Cas said there was nothing wrong with Dean liking it, said hed
gotten into watching Dean last night so maybe its not so bad?
I need you to touch me, Dean says which sounds super lame. Cas offers him a free pass,
anything he wants, and he wants the guy to touch him. To strip off his shirt and his pants and just
lay next to Dean. Please.
Of course. Cas stands up, and he peels off his clothes, quick, efficient, and he doesnt even
bother to fold them before hes climbing into bed, and he holds the covers up in invitation. Its
what Deans asked for, but Dean still hesitates. It takes him a moment of indecision before he
slides in next to Cas.

There are no more words exchanged, which Dean is grateful for; theres just the touch of skin
against skin, legs tangled together, Deans cheek against the warm heat of Cass chest. Cass arms
wrap around Deans waist, pulling him in close, a promise that hes not going to let him go.
Dean feels stupid for wanting this, for possibly even needing this, but it doesnt stop him from
burrowing deeper into Cass arms. When he closes his eyes, and lets himself relax and just be
held, it makes him think that maybe Cas wasnt lying. If Cas had been disgusted by him then he
wouldnt be able to hold Dean like this. Hed be trying to get as far away from him as possible.
Cas runs a hand through Deans hair, short nails scraping against Deans scalp. It settles
something in Dean. The hovering sense of wrong dissipates, Deans mind quiets down, and Dean
presses a kiss to Cass skin.

Chapter 6
Dean loses track of the days, too caught up in moving from job to job, so hes surprised when he
gets to Cass one night and the man is waiting for him by the door. Theyve never done this
before, but Dean figures Cas wants to watch him undress which is fine, just unexpected and
Deans fingers are on the hem of his t-shirt when Cas shakes his head.
A smile curves his lips and he regards Dean curiously for a moment before he says, You dont
know what day today is, do you?
Uh, Dean wracks his brain, because this has to be some kind of test or something, and he
doesnt want to fail, but hes coming up blank. Its a weekday, and he thinks its late January. Its
definitely not February 3rd because he wouldve remembered watching the Superbowl.
Its the first of the month, Cas says, and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a check. This
is for your services during the trial month. Put it away and come to the kitchen. His orders given,
Cas leaves Dean to pull himself together and follow. Dean stares at the check, because today had
definitely snuck up on him, but then he sees the figure, and he has to take a deep, steadying
breath. Theres a difference between being told hes going to get 10k a month and seeing the
evidence before his eyes. Hes holding ten thousand dollars in his hand, and hes almost giddy
with the reality of it. Sam is one step closer to Stanford.
But, there are a lot more steps to go so Dean slips the check into his bag and goes into the kitchen.
He toed off his shoes at the door, because even if hes not supposed to get naked, wearing your
shoes in someone elses house is rude. Dean takes the seat Cas offers, and hes not sure whats
weirder; sitting at Cass kitchen table or wearing clothes.
The trial period is over, Cas says, and he folds his hands on the table. I would like to continue
our arrangement, and I see no need for any adjustments to our terms. He looks up at Dean,
expectant.
No, me too. Its good. Dean nods and smiles, and hes surprised to find that he really means it.
Because it is. Good. He had expected to be miserable, to grit his teeth and suffer through this for
as long as it took to put Sam through school, but hes actually enjoying himself. He looks forward
to coming to Cass, and sometimes his stomach twists with nervous anticipation, but its the good
kind of nervous.
Honestly, hed stopped thinking of this as a job which is dangerous, but Cas handing him the
check had been a nice jolt of realty. This is a job, one that he enjoys, but its still a job.
Cas studies Deans face for a moment, like hes trying to evaluate the truth of Deans statement,
suck out all thoughts Dean has hidden away about this arrangement, and Dean fights to keep his
face blank. In that case, I have something for you.
Dean perks up at the thought of a present, but hes honestly not sure what Cas could give him.
Deans content being employed, he doesnt really need gifts. But then Cas puts a plain wooden
box on the table, and he pushes it towards Dean. Dean looks at the box then up at Cas, and Cas
motions for Dean to open it.
Dean carefully lifts the top off, and hes not sure what hes expecting, but the leather collar isnt it.
It sits in the box, simple, unassuming, and Deans breath catches in his throat, because they talked
about this, but he hadnt realizedthis isDean looks up again, caught up in everything hes
feeling, and Cas smiles.

You didnt change your mind, did you? Cas asks even though he knows every well that Dean
didnt.
Deans fingers skate over the box like hes afraid that if he touches the leather it will disintegrate
beneath his fingers. Hed wanted this, a physical reminder that he belongs to Cas, but that was
when he was caught up in everything. Now, with the check weighing heavy in his mind, Deans
uncertain. When Cas held him in the bathroom, the hand curled around Deans hip, casual,
proprietary, Dean had wanted. But Deans not in that headspace anymore. He cant shake the
knowledge that hes being paid for this, this is a form of employment. The collar loses some of its
meaning in that context.
Go strip, Cas says, drawing the box back to him, Ill put it on when you come back.
This would be the time to say no if Deans going to do it. He understands that as soon as the collar
is buckled then its a sealed deal. He cant help the way his gaze is drawn to the box, the edge of
the collar peeking over the edge. His breath catches and he wants, but hes not sure its a good
idea. Its the promise of something that isnt here, and Deans afraid if he says yes then hes going
to lose all ability to differentiate. This job is already too personal, too different, and hes worn
collars before, but hes never felt like this staring the collar down. He practically aches with
needing to feel it on him, the reassuring pressure of the leather, the physical weight of it.
Dean? Cas asks, a touch of concern in his voice.
Dean shakes himself. Sorry. Going. He tears his gaze away from the box and hurries out to the
entry room before Cas decides to punish him for being slow. Dean isnt disobeying or trying to
make Cas angry, hes just thinking too much. The familiar ritual of stripping helps him solve that
problem. He folds up his clothes and leaves any errant thoughts between his shirt and his jeans.
Hes here to do what Cas wants. Theres no need for him to think, to overanalyze, to worry. Just
listen and obey.
Hes more settled by the time he gets back to the kitchen, and he kneels without being asked, and
Cas drags his knuckles against Deans jaw as a reward. Dean leans into the touch, and Cas pulls
back too quick, but his hands return a moment later with the collar. Deans stomach dips, and his
tongue darts out to wet suddenly dry lips. He keeps his eyes on the collar until its too close and
they cross. He looks up at Cas then, and Cass gaze is on Deans face, his hands doing the collar
by touch alone.
Cas buckles it and checks the tightness, slipping two fingers beneath the leather. Dean doesnt
protest the fit, because its tight enough that it stays put, that he can feel the gentle pressure against
his skin, but its loose enough he doesnt have that panicked catch in his throat every time he takes
a breath. What Dean wants to do is run his fingers over the leather, feel how smooth it is, but he
hasnt been given permission. Instead, he tilts his head back, an invitation that Cas takes him up
on.
Its Cass fingers that trace over the leather, memorizing the feel and the width. I want you to put
this on as soon youve divested yourself of your clothing. Cass nail scrapes lightly at the skin
just under the collar, and a shiver dances its way down Deans spine and across his arms. I want
you to wear it the whole time youre here.
Cas pulls his hand back, and Dean wants to follow it, chase the warmth it gives him, but he knows
better than that so he stays, relaxed and on his heels, and he waits for Cass next instructions. They
dont come. Instead, Cass hand comes back, tipping Deans chin up, trailing his fingers down
Deans cheek. Beautiful, Cas says. Deans been called beautiful before, but never like this.
Usually its mocking, the word twisted to sound insulting, hateful, a jeer about Deans long lashes

or too pink lips, but Cas sounds genuine, and Dean doesnt know what to do with praise like that.
So Dean does whats familiar. He turns his head to the side and catches Cass thumb between his
lips, sucking the tip in. Theres no denying the darkening of Cass eyes, the slight intake of breath
when Deans teeth scrape, ever so gentle, against the sensitive pad of Cass thumb. In an instant,
Cas pushes his chair back from the table, and he pulls his hand back so he can unbutton his pants
and shove them down and to the ground, and Dean cant help the thrill that runs through him. The
kitchen chairs arent the most comfortable pieces of furniture, far less comfortable than say the
couch or even the armchair, and Dean likes the idea that Cas cant wait to get Deans mouth on
him, cant be bothered to take two seconds to move into the living room. Its like he needs Dean
right now, and Deans more than happy to oblige.
No, Cas says when Deans hands come to rest on Cass thighs. Hands behind your back.
Dean does as hes told, his left hand grabbing his right wrist, and it leaves him slightly off-balance,
no hands to steady himself, but then Cas tangles a hand in Deans hair and the other drops to
Deans shoulder, and thats all the support he needs.
Cas maneuvers Deans head the way he wants it, and this is what Dean loves the most. More than
the bondage, its the effortless manhandling. He loves having his wrists pinned, his body pressed
into walls, a firm hand in his hair, because there is the real challenge to submit. There are no
handcuffs holding him in place, nothing compelling him to take it except for the fact that he likes
it. Which is why Dean parts his lips willingly and lets the hand in his hair guide his head down
until the first taste of Cas is on his tongue.
His eyes flutter shut which allows him to focus on the almost painful pull of his hair, the heavy
weight of Cass other hand on his shoulder, the gentle touch of Cass thumb to Deans collar, and
Dean shudders and swallows around Cass cock, because hes finally in a collar. And not a for
show collar, not a thing hes wearing for a few extra bucks, but because he wants it. Because it
feels right.
Cass hand guides Deans head down until hes taking Cas deep, the head bumping the back of
Deans throat, and theres the initial flare of panic, of not right, but Dean clamps it down, and a
moment later his throat relaxes, accepting the intrusion.
Good, Cas says and he pushes deeper, until Deans eyes are watering, and his throat is
convulsively trying to swallow and then Cas pulls Deans head back, giving him a moment to
breathe before pulling him down again. Deans not sure how long they do this. Deans given up
control, and hes amazed at how easy it is, how unafraid he is.
Opening right up for me, Cas says, and he spreads his legs further, bringing Dean further in.
Habit of yours, I think. Always give me more than I think you can. Constantly surprising me.
The hand on Deans shoulder slides up to join Cass other hand in Deans hair, and he pulls
Deans off completely, and Dean cant help the soft disappointed sound he makes. Cass hands
tighten at the noise, and he hauls Dean up and into his lap and then hes kissing him. Deans
mouth is too open and pliant to do much kissing back, but Cas doesnt seem to mind. Cass tongue
sweeps through Deans mouth, claiming it like all Dean has doesnt already belong to him.
Deans unsteady on Cass legs with his arms still locked behind his back so he slides his knees on
either side of Cass hips and squeezes, and Cass hips jerk up, and their cocks grind together.
Deans gasp is stolen right out of his mouth, and so is the next one when Cas drops a hand down
to fist them both.
Dean arches up and back at the touch, his mouth breaking away from Cass and before he can
regret the sudden loss, Cass lips are at Deans neck, half kissing skin half kissing leather. Deans
had clients that like the sight of the collar, what it represents, but hes never had them like the

collar the way Cas does. His tongue laves the leather, flicks under it against the protected skin, and
Dean groans and with no mouth to swallow up the sound, it echoes in the empty room.
Cass hand starts working faster, and he fastens his teeth around the collar and bites, and Dean
cant feel the actual bite, but he can feel the intensity of it. Its like Cas wants to bite Deans skin
and mark it up, but he cant because any skin that can be seen at the garage means it cant be
marked so Cas is marking the collar instead, biting so hard hed probably break Deans skin if he
was actually biting Deans neck. The thought shouldnt be hot, but Deans hips stutter, throwing
off Cass rhythm.
Hes rewarded with gentler nips against his neck, the sensitive underside of his chin, and Dean
rolls his hips down, searching for more friction, because hes close now. Cas knows that Dean has
a thing for marking, and the collar biting is a tease, and the baby bites are even more of one. Dean
knows that the collar is the ultimate mark, the sign that Dean belongs to Cas and wants to belong
to him, but Deans greedy and wants more. He wants red lines down his chest and hickeys
blooming on his skin that he can stare at in the mirror tomorrow.
Dean wants to grind down against Cass hips, but he has slightly more control than that, control
hes barely hanging onto, so he doesnt. What he does do, is beg. Please, he finds himself
saying, his body on the verge of shaking apart, all he needs is one last good push, and hell take it
any way he can get it. Please, Cas. So close. Justjust needah, Cas teeth sinks into the meat
of Deans shoulder, and pleasure sparks through the pain, a jolt straight to his cock, and thats all it
takes.
Dean comes, shuddering, shaking, his forehead pressed into Cass shoulder, because hes still got
his hands behind his back. Cas strokes their cocks a few more times, almost too much for Deans
now sensitive skin, but then Cas is coming too, and he rests his head against Deans as they both
pant for breath.
It isnt until a minute or two later when Cas pulls back that he looks down and realizes that hes
still wearing his work shirt, and that its now covered with a generous amount of jizz. Well, shit,
he says, but he sounds more amused than upset.
Dean cant help his small laugh, and he tries to hold it in, especially when Cas arches an eyebrow,
but he cant. Its the endorphins or the post-orgasm haze or something, because Dean starts
laughing, and he cant stop, and it shakes his whole body, and Cas has to reach out and grab
Deans hips to keep him from toppling off Cass lap.
Youre amused by the mess you made? Cas asks, but he doesnt quite manage angry or even
disapproving. Hes too pleased by the fact that Deans laughing. Dean nods, not trusting himself
to speak, even as he tries to reign his amusement in. Huh, Cas says. Then why dont you clean
it up?
The laughter freezes in Deans throat, and he studies Cass face for a moment, trying to determine
if hes serious, but he gets nothing. So Dean slides off Cass lap, an incredibly ungraceful move,
because hes only using his legs, and Cas is too busy staring to be any help. Deans even less sure
that Cas had been serious, but a request is a request, and Deans good at doing what he asked.
He rises up on his knees and meets Cass eyes for a moment before leaning in and sucking a wet
spot on Cass shirt into his mouth. Its salty and cool, and theres the taste of fabric and ironing
spray along with come, but Dean doesnt mind. He sucks that mouthful as clean as he can and
moves an inch to the right. Hes pretty sure hes only making a bigger mess of Cass shirt, but Cas
hasnt said anything beyond a whispered, holy shit, and thats definitely not a no or a stop so
Dean keeps going. His mouth is a little sore from the blow job earlier, but he forces his jaw to
keep going until hes covered the lower half of Cass shirt and then he gives his full attention to

Cass dick, licking it clean.

***
Saturday night finds Dean and Cas side by side on the sofa with a manta ray special on low in the
background. Dean likes lazy Saturdays. When he first agreed to work for Cas, he was afraid he
was going to turn into a zombie, constantly exhausted, but so far that hasnt been the case. Friday
to Saturday is his 24 hour shift, but Cas doesnt run him into the ground.
Today, for instance, theyd woken up late, and Cas had put an order in for breakfast and then
come back and kissed Dean until the door buzzed. Dean had tried to keep Cas with him, but Cas
had just laughed and put his bathrobe on and went to get the door. Breakfast in bed was followed
by a shower and when they put Deans collar back on, they had another extended make out
session against the bathroom counter.
Its not all about sex, and it isnt even all about Cas barking orders, and Deans not quite sure what
to make of it. Saturdays are the long days, and theyre full of slow kisses and long cuddling
sessions on the couch, whether theyre watching TV or reading, and it reeks of domesticity, of a
relationship, and that makes Dean both want to run as far away as he can and cling to Cas even
tighter.
Right now is one of those moments. Deans legs are tangled up with Cass, and one of Cass
hands is stroking Deans hair, a steady, repetitive touch that has Dean hovering on the edge of
sleep and lazy bliss. Dean presses an open mouthed kiss to Cass chest, and he shifts his body to
give him better access, and he isnt looking to start anything, he just wants to be touching as much
of Cas as he can. He wants to run his tongue and his fingers over Cass smooth skin, and that isnt
good. He should be touching with a purpose, everything he does should have sex as an endgame,
because thats what this is about. Except it isnt. If Cas had only wanted sex, there were easier
ways go about it, ways that didnt involve having Dean sleep over or long Saturdays spent
arguing over Ray Bradburys finest work (Cas thinks its Fahrenheit 451 but Dean wont be
swayed from All Summer in a Day).
Dean licks at the heat of Cass skin like he can somehow absorb it into his body, carry it around
with him to remind him of Cas, of this, to keep him happy. His kissing becomes more frantic at the
need to capture this, preserve it for the day when Dean doesnt have it anymore. Its ridiculous,
because Cas indicated he wanted something long-term, and Dean needs at least two years,
probably three to be safe in order to put Sam through college, but he cant help the panicked
squeeze of his chest at the thought of over.
Hey, Cas sounds amused, and his hand skims down to the back of Deans neck. Im not going
anywhere. He tugs Deans head up so theyre eye to eye. But there is something I need to talk
to you about. Deans body stills under Cass touch, and his mind immediately starts spinning out
worst case scenarios. They had agreed last night that everything was going well, that they both
wanted to keep doing this, but its possible Cas has already changed his mind. Its not like Dean
was actually expecting to pass Cass test. People dont exactly want him. Not like this. For a night,
for a couple hours, for a quick fuck behind a bar, but theres a reason none of them stick around.
Stop thinking, Cas says. Its nothing bad. I promise. Relax. His hands skim down Deans
sides, comforting. Its about tomorrow night. As Im sure you know, its the Super Bowl.
Dean nods. 49ers vs. Ravens. Sam had been really disappointed when he realized that Dean
would be working that night, and Dean was bummed about it too, because the Super Bowl is a
big deal in their house, even if Deans not invested in either team playing. The Ravens are brutes
and he might have cheered for the 49ers if he didnt hate everything California right now. But
Dean understands things like commitments and work, and he can miss the Super Bowl this year.

Sports arent really Cass thing; he prefers watching documentaries on animals and making things
(they watched a special on a lollipop factory once), but theyve never watched anything sports
related.
My brothers are coming here to watch it, Cas says and he sounds pissed about that. They were
originally going to go to New Orleans to watch it live, but when I refused to accompany them,
they decided to have a Super Bowl party here instead. So you have tomorrow night off. My
brothers are, Cas pauses, searching for the right words, I wouldnt subject anyone to them if I
could help it.
Dean has tomorrow off? He gets to watch the Super Bowl with Sam? Thank you, Dean says,
and he tries not to sound too happy, because he doesnt want to hurt Cass feelings or make him
think that Dean doesnt want to be here, but hes felt like hes been a shadow in Sams life the past
month, and Sam hasnt complained, but being home for the Super Bowl will go a long way to
making things better.
Your mind is wandering, Cas says. No doubt youre already planning a party. He reaches up
and unbuckles the collar, and Deans neck feels achingly naked without it. Go home and tell
your brother the good news. Ill see you Monday at seven.
Monday at seven suddenly seems really far away, and Dean leans in for one last kiss before he
goes, but Cas shakes his head and holds up the collar as an explanation. Not my sub right now.
He gives Deans shoulder a gentle push and Dean climbs off him, and he goes to shelves to pull
his clothes back on feeling unsettled.
***
Deans feeling better by the time he gets home, mostly because he spent the whole subway trip
thinking off all the things hes going to make; the delicious salsa and sour cream and cheese dip,
spicy cheese dip, muddy buddies, trail mix, caramel popcorn. He has a binder full of recipes, and a
special section dedicated to Super Bowl foods, and hes probably more excited about this than he
should be, but he cant help it.
Youll never guess what happened, Dean says sweeping into the living room. Bobby, dad, and
Sam are sitting around the TV watching pre-game coverage, and Dean cant believe how early it
starts. How do they even have things to talk about for a full 24 hours?
You met the Olsen twins? Bobby asks completely deadpan.
Dean rolls his eyes. No. I got tomorrow off.
What? Sam asks. Tomorrows the Super Bowl. And you work at a bar. How did you manage
that? He doesnt sound as thrilled as Dean thought he would, and Deans a little hurt by it. True,
it had been luck and nothing Dean did that got him the time off, but hes going to be home for the
Super Bowl. Sam could show at least a little enthusiasm.
Im the bosss favorite, Dean says, and he plops down on the couch and reaches out to swipe
Bobbys beer.
He gets his hand slapped for his effort. Not my favorite, Bobby says.
Dean doesnt let it kill his good mood. Turning back to Sam, well, that certainly puts a dent in it,
because Sam looks freaking torn, and whats wrong with him tonight?
I made plans, Sam confesses in a rush, because hes the worst secret keeper in the entire world.
I thought you were working, but youre not now so I can cancel them. He bites his lip,

uncomfortable, uncertain, and Dean gets it. Even as his stomach drops out on him, he gets it. Sam
thought Dean wasnt going to be here, and he didnt want to be stuck with dad, and Sams
allowed to have friends. And hes allowed to choose to watch some stupid football with his
friends over his brother.
Aw hell, Bobby says, looking between Sam and Dean. If you both stop looking like wounded
puppies, Sam can have his friends over here. As long as they dont trash my house. You two are
pathetic with the faces youre pulling.
Sam springs up from his seat, suddenly energized, and hes off running towards the other room,
phone in hand. Dean turns back to Bobby, a smile tugging at his lips. Sure Im not your
favorite?
Shut up before I change my mind.

Chapter 7
The collar rests on the top shelf where Cass notes go, and Dean feels a thrill go through him at
the thought that anyone walking through Cass apartment could see the small strip of leather. Hes
never seen someone come over Cass apartment, but he knows that a woman comes through and
cleans twice a week. He wonders if Cas has to hide the collar from friends that come over. Cas
doesnt seem to like his job too much, escaping as quick as he can, and he talks about his work but
never about the people he works with. Maybe he doesnt have friends that come over. Dean
doesnt have an overabundance of people in his life, but at least he has Sam and Bobby and dad.
Cas seems to have no one. Except Dean that is.
Sometimes, early in the morning when Dean wakes up tucked against Cass chest, a sturdy arm
wrapped around him, Dean wonders why Cas doesnt have more people in his life. True, Dean
doesnt really know him outside of their arrangement, but Cas is one the best doms Dean has ever
had, and he assumes that translates into him being at least a decent person if not a good one. And
arent rich people supposed to spend their nights going to wild parties and getting drunk and
causing scenes? He doesnt understand why Cas has picked Dean to spend his time with, doesnt
understand why Cas has to pay someone to be with him. Deans sure that if Cas wanted he could
easily go out and meet friends and with little effort could find someone to have an actual
relationship with.
Not that Dean actually wants Cas to do that. Its selfish of him, and its only a little bit about the
money. Dean enjoys his time here, its like a second home with the amount of time he spends
here, with the easy familiarity Dean has with the place, and hes actually a little worried about
how much hed miss coming here if their arrangement ended. Which is why Dean needs to put
more focus into not screwing up and less into thinking about his clients personal life.
Dean shucks off his clothes and fastens his collar, by memory now, but he still takes a look in the
mirror to admire the fit of the leather against his skin. He strokes his fingers across the leather,
imagines Cas hooking his fingers through the collar and pulling Dean around by it. Deans cock
twitches, and he has to fight back a groan.
By the time he walks out to the living room, Cas is sitting on the couch, eyebrow raised in a way
that doesnt bode well for Dean. Taking your time today? Cas asks. The way youre dawdling,
it makes me wonder if you really want to be here.
I do, Dean says in a panicked breath. Hed gotten caught up in thought, in staring at his collar. It
had been a mistake, one he wont repeat again, but he doesnt want Cas to think Dean doesnt
want to be here, doesnt want this. Because he does. So much that even when he leaves, taking
the subway back to his part of the city he cant shake thoughts of the night before, of the night to
come. So much that when Deans supposed to be focusing on cars, on taking them apart and
putting them together sometimes his mind gets stuck on how Cas takes Dean apart and puts him
back together with effortless ease, like hes been trained to do it.
I do. Im sorry. Dean starts to drop to his knees at Cass feet, but Cass fingers catch under
Deans chin, and he stays in a half-crouch, tense and waiting.
Over the armrest, Cas says, and he pulls his fingers back, and Dean cant help but feel a loss
when he loses the touch. Ass in the air. Dean hurries to obey, because being slow is what got
him into trouble in the first place, and he drapes himself over the arm rest, his feet planted on the
ground, legs spread, and he feels exposed like this, vulnerable, and he has a pretty good idea of
whats coming next.

He drops his head between his arms and closes his eyes, and it lets him focus on his other senses.
For instance, he can hear Cass deep, even breathing coming from somewhere behind and to the
left of him. He can feel the prickle of his skin as he waits, the way the hairs on the back of his
neck stand up, straining towards Cas, towards whatevers about to happen.
Cas braces a hand on Deans hip, and Dean tenses up, because if Cas is bracing himself then this
is going to be a hard hit. Cas surprises him with a soft slap against Deans ass; it stings but only for
a moment and then Cas pulls his hand off and moves to the side, and Dean gets himself ready for
a light hit to his right cheek. Cass hand comes down on Deans left cheek, the pain reverberating
through Deans skin, and he stumbles over his sharp intake of breath. The next hit comes quick,
the one after it quicker, and Dean clenches his hands into fists and waits for the next one, but
theres nothing. Theres the warm tingle of his ass, the quick short breaths hes pulling in, but
theres no movement from Cas.
He tilts his head, ears straining to pick up any sign of where Cas is, of where the next slap is going
to come from. Hes read them wrong each time so far which is frustrating, and it doesnt change
on the next hit. Cass hand smacks down on Deans thigh, hard enough that tears spring into
Deans eyes.
Stop trying to anticipate, Cas says, his hand rubbing the abused skin. Trust me and let go. All
of Deans senses scream at him not to relax, and he has a hard time shutting off his
hyperawareness, because theres someone at his back, someone whos hitting himspanking him
reallyand years of dads training demand that he anticipate, counter, protect himself. And then
Cass fingers slip under the collar, and they tug once, jerking Deans head back. Its a reminder
that Deans chosen this, that he wants this, and he blows out a slow breath, letting his training
instincts drain out of him. Anticipate, counter, protect turns to relax, trust, let go.
His hands unclench and smooth over the leather of the sofa, not searching for a handhold, just
needing to touch. The rest of his body sinks, pliant against the armrest, and he hears Cass hum of
approval before he starts spanking Dean again. The hits are no less powerful, and the first one
catches Deans off guard, his body jerking with the impact, but he breathes through it, forces his
body to stay still and once hes relaxed again, the next one comes.
Deans skin burns and throbs in the aftermath of the smacks, and the fire burns through his skin,
into his blood, igniting every nerve in his body. His erection presses, painful, against the couch,
but hes distracted from the need to rut up against the furniture with the next hit. Cass hand falls
faster after that, barely giving Dean time to catch his breath.
Its then that he starts to float, and he knows that each hit should be jarring, should send him back
to reality, but it doesnt, and this is the dangerous place for him to be. This is where he hovers,
unable to gauge the damage being done, and it keeps him from knowing when to say stop, when
to pull back, and usually that ignites a small panic in him, but not today. Today, he doesnt try to
claw his way back to his body, he lets himself spiral up and through the haze of endorphins,
because he doesnt need to be afraid. Trust me and let go. Cas isnt going to hurt him, not
anymore than Dean can bear.
Dean comes down to Cas palming his ass, rubbing the too hot skin, and Dean both wants to arch
into and away from the touch, but hes pinned between the couch and the armrest so he has no
choice in the matter. Hes grateful, because hes not sure he knows which one hed choose. The
hands are gentle, and one of them slips around Deans front and slides up his chest, pushing Dean
up until hes cradled against Cass front.
Cas buries his face between Deans shoulder blades, and he licks the sweat slick skin there,
presses open mouthed kisses to the curve of Deans muscles, and Dean just stands, putty in Cass
arms. He sags against the press of Cass hand, and he can feel the tremble in Cass arm, because

Deans a lot of weight to hold up, especially when hes not helping at all but Dean cant will any
strength into his legs no matter how hard he tries. Hed been kind of joking about the putty thing,
except for the part where he totally wasnt.
You were so good for me, Cas says, his breath warm and wet against Deans back. The hand
that isnt holding Dean up slides down Deans thigh then drags back up, thumb sweeping across
the crease of Deans thigh. Now Im going to take care of you. Couch or bed?
Dean looks out at the bedroom door, and it seems impossibly far away, the doorway stretching
away from him the longer he looks at it. Couch it is then. Couch. Hes sliding out of Cass grip,
and Cas laughs quietly and adjusts his hold and walks Dean over to the couch. Cas lays down
first, but really its more like he falls onto the couch with Dean falling on top of him, and if Cas
minds being crushed by Deans weight, he doesnt complain. He just runs his hands through
Deans hair and murmurs things like, so good over and over again.
Dean sinks into the warmth of Cass embrace, and he tucks his head under Cass chin, and the
only thing that could make this better would be Cas being naked with him, so he could feel the
touch of Cass skin against his, but this is still good. More than good. Dean can feel himself
nodding off, and he tries to summon enough energy to form words.
TV, he slurs against Cass neck. Imma fall asleep. You want?
Im good, Cas says, and he reaches a hand up to pull the blanket off the back of the couch so he
can lay it over them. Dean has no idea how Cas understood his garbled sentence, but the
implications of Cass answer warm him more than the blanket. Cas wants to put his full attention
into Dean; holding him, taking care of him. Deans never been anyones priority. Its stupid that
hes getting sappy feelings over Cas choosing not to turn on the TV, and he tries to shrug them
off, but its too much effort. Hes warm, and safe, and strangely, content. Thinkings too
complicated.
Dean nestles in closer, and the hands in his hair tighten, and he feels the soft pressure of Cass lips
against his forehead. Its the last thing he remembers before he drifts off into sleep.
***
If theres one thing Deans good at, its sleeping, and hes grateful for that when he wakes up the
next morning. Cas must have brought him to bed and tucked him in, thankfully laying Dean on his
stomach, and Dean hadnt moved an inch during the night. Its a good thing too, because rolling
out of bed sets his ass on fire, and if hed rolled over during the night, he wouldve woken himself
up with the pain.
He isnt able to hold back his yelp of surprise as the slide of the sheet sends pain sparking through
his body, and Cas looks over from his side of the bed. Tender this morning? Theres a bit of a
smirk tugging at his lips, enough of one that Dean wants to snap something unkind at him, but he
doesnt, because most doms dont like mouthy subs, and because its Deans own fault hes sore.
Trying to navigate the garage like this is going to be fun today. Hopefully Charlie isnt in the
mood to snap towels at Dean today.
Breakfast is a quiet affair. Dean has to kneel completely straight, careful not to sag down on his
heels. It makes his knees ache after a little while, and he doesnt have much to distract him. Cas is
reading the newspaper, not out loud like he sometimes does, and that leaves Dean with his own
head for company. Sometimes he doesnt mind it, but this morning it isnt the best for him.
Because hes sitting here, a warm feeling in his stomach as Cas hand feeds him, and he shouldnt
feel safe. He shouldnt be happy and content, because his ass is a burning reminder that Cas
spanked him last night, and it hadnt been gentle. There had been pain therepain that took Dean

somewhere elsebut pain nonetheless, and how can he feel protected by someone he lets hurt
him? How does he even let himself get hurt?
Cass knuckles graze the edge of the collar, and Deans thoughts simmer down, because this is
why. Cas is different. Hes not hurting Dean to hurt him, and that doesnt make sense except for
the way it does. He trusts Cas not to push him too far, but hes afraid hes misplacing his trust.
Hes never trusted his clients like this before. Hes trusted Gabriel, trusted the security, but the
actual clients? Deans experience has taught him to be careful, to always be on his guard, but it
isnt like that with Cas and so far its been okay, but Deans afraid for the time where suddenly its
not.
Dean? Cas asks and Dean refocuses to see a grape being held out to him, and Dean wonders
how long he spaced out for. He answers the question by leaning forward, and he curls his tongue
around the fruit, drawing it into his mouth and licking Cass fingers in the process. Cas doesnt get
fooled by the rather obvious distraction attempt. You okay? Last night was something new for
us.
Cass fingers card through Deans hair and slide down to the collar, and for the first time, Deans
hesitant to take it off before he leaves. He doesnt want anyone to see him with it on; hes not
ready to tell his family that hes gay, explaining to them that he subs for money is definitely out of
the realm of possibility, but Dean wants the reassurance for himself. As long as hes wearing it, he
can remind himself that what theyre doing, what theyve done is normal, that its okay. All his
doubts, all his insecurities, he can feel them hovering, waiting to swoop in and poison his mind as
soon as the collars off.
Im okay now, Dean says, because thats the truth, and maybe since he knows the subdrop is
coming, or, at least something like it, hell be able to fend it off this time.
Now? Cas asks, picking up on the fact that Deans answer wasnt a complete one. Does that
mean you werent before or that you dont anticipate being in the near future? Deans hesitant to
answer, because needing help is a sign of weakness; hes been taught to deal with his own
problems or to ignore them, and to never ever burden someone else with them. Dean, Cas says,
his voice firm. I need you to talk to me. I will never judge you or think less of you, but if we
dont communicate then we cant help each other.
Dean doesnt know where the each other comes into play; so far its been Dean needing Cas, but
he remembers what it had been like last time, dropping hard at work, and hed rather not be a
complete dick to everyone if theres a way it can be avoided. Im worried that Im going to
drop. He doesnt know how telling Cas will help, because last time Dean was feeling off theyd
cuddled for a while, but that isnt an option today; they both have to leave and go to work soon.
Cas pulls his phone out of his pants pocket and of all the things Dean had expected, that wasnt it.
Whats your phone number? Cas asks. I can text you throughout the day. I know it isnt the
same as being together, and if thats what you need then call me, and Ill leave work. Or, if you
need to hear my voice, call me, and Ill step out. Whatever you need, ask and Ill do my best to
give it to you.
Cas hands his phone over for Dean to put his phone number in, and Dean takes it with weak
hands, because Cas is telling Dean its okay to want help. Hes telling Dean to ask for it, and its a
foreign concept to him. Is it a trick? Is it one of those things where Cas is offering but he doesnt
really mean it? Dean doesnt think so, Cas seems genuine, and they have that whole honesty-trust
policy thing going on, but Cas cant actually mean for Dean to disrupt him at work. Cas is
important, hes someone high up in the company, and Deans the mechanic Cas fools around
with.

Dean punches the numbers in because hes expected to, and hell be grateful for the texts, but he
wont call. He doesnt think it will be that bad, and even if it is, it wouldnt be right, even if Cas is
offering.
Thank you, Cas says when Dean hands him back his phone. You still hungry?
***
Dean keeps his phone on him instead of shoving it in his locker with his wallet and jacket, and he
keeps it on vibrate even though he knows he shouldnt. Its unprofessional to have his phone on
him while he works and its even worse having it on, because he spends half his time tense in
anticipation for a text.
The first time his phone buzzes, hes got his hands deep inside an engine, and theyre covered in
grease, and hes in the middle of something so he lets the buzzing reassure him instead of the
message. For a brief moment he wonders if its someone else texting him, and he almost laughs at
that thought. Dad and Bobby are here at work, and Sams at school, and Sams too perfect rule
abiding child to text during class. Which only leaves Cas.
Dean lets the heavy weight of his phone carry him through the rest of the work on the Corolla. He
doesnt know what the message says, but its there, and its a fulfillment of Cass promise, and
Deans not sure why that makes him so happy. He hums the opening bars to Highway to Hell
while he fitzes around in the engine, and he lets himself get swallowed up by his work.
By the time the Corollas done, hes sweating, and hes sure he has grease streaked across his
forehead, but he doesnt bother washing it off when he heads to the bathroom. He only rinses his
hands so he can pull out his phone and check it.
Cas: In line for my pre-work coffee. I find Starbucks to be overrated, but there isnt anything
closer.
Dean cant help his smile as he jams his phone back into his pocket. He cant really picture Cas at
Starbucks either, and its weird, because he feels like thats where Cas should fit in. Hes the rich
businessman, and he should order weird coffees in some language that definitely isnt English, and
he should sip delicately at them while sneering at everyone who walks by, but Cas doesnt fit the
mold. He seems unhappy with his job, not that hes ever said as much because he rarely talks
about it. Dean wonders why he isnt doing something different. The guy clearly has more money
than he knows what to do with. Why not move somewhere else and do something new?
Dean! Bobby calls from the front room. Ive got a Prius with brake trouble. You have some
time to look at it?
Sure.
***
Its when Deans fiddling with the brake line that last night starts to creep back into his mind. He
doesnt notice it at first; one moment hes poking at the inner workings of the car, the next hes
swept up in a panicked wave of what the hell. Because hed let Cas hurt him last night. Dean
couldve safeworded out, hes never done it before, he assumes Cas would listen, but if he didnt,
Dean couldve fought his way out. But he didnt do either.
And really, it wasnt so much about the pain. Hes been doing the sub thing for a while, and hes
used to a bit of pain every now and again. But he had enjoyed it in some perverse way, and the
thought terrifies him. It isnt like Alastair, where Dean pretended he liked it, begged for more

because thats what Alastair wanted.

Dean had enjoyed coming undone, had enjoyed being able to let himself go and trust Cas. And
afterward, theyd curled up on the couch and cuddled like Cas hadnt just beat Deans ass red.
Like what the actual fuck is wrong with him? Theres a fine line between doing something like
that because its a job and its expected and doing something because you like it. And Dean can
tell himself that it was part of the job, that he screwed up which meant he needed to get punished,
but he cant lie convincingly enough. Not to himself. Part of him had liked it, and hes disgusted
by that part of himself.
Hes worked himself into a truly foul mood by the time hes ready for lunch, and he washes up
and grabs his sandwich and goes out back, because he knows hes no good to be around right
now. When he sits down, his ass smarts, a reminder of last night, and his phone jabs into his hip,
and he realizes hed forgotten all about it. He pulls it out, and hes surprised to see that he has a
missed call and a voicemail. He unwraps his sandwich while his dials his voicemail, and hes just
taken his first bite when Cass voice filters through the ear piece.
Hello, Dean, the recorded voice says, and Deans body relaxes at the sound. I took an early
lunch today, because I was bored, and theres no one to tell me no. I suppose thats one perk of
being in charge. Im at a little caf. That explains the all the background noise. I thought about
having a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, but the women behind me were discussing
how this place has the best egg salad in the area. Im not sure if an egg salad sandwich and tomato
soup will be a good combination. Ill let you know.
Cas pauses, and Dean can hear the scrape of a nearby chair, muted shouting, and what he thinks is
Cas chewing. A minute or so later, Cas speaks again. Very good egg salad. I may have to come
here for lunch more often. The tomato soup is good as well, but there are no Cheez-its to put in.
Perhaps I can bring a bag of them with me. Gone of my brothers enjoys grapes in his tomato
soup, but thats disgusting.
Dean laughs a little and takes another bite of his sandwich. Its weird that a voicemail is revealing
more personal information about Cas than practically living with him, but hes glad to finally be
getting to know some things about him. Dean sometimes feels like his entire life has been stripped
open for Cas to look over and peruse and that Dean gets nothing in return. But now Dean knows
what Cass favorite sandwich is and how he likes his soup.
Youre probably listening to this over your lunch break. You seem like too good of an employee
to do otherwise. That means Im already back in my office, and while an office is more spacious
than a cubicle, its no less restricting. Theres a soft sigh, almost too soft for Dean to pick up on
it, but he hears it and all the discontent wrapped up in it. There are people eyeing my table with
envy. I should stop talking so I can eat. I look forward to seeing you tonight.
The call ends, and Dean stares at his phone for a long time, because he shouldnt feel so happy, so
pleasantly buzzed after a phone call. He shouldnt feel cushioned, like nothing can hurt him, but
he does. He pushes away his insecurities and his doubts and his fears, because Cas called him.
Called Dean on his lunch break when he couldve been chatting with a dozen different people or
just enjoying his sandwich in peace. Instead, he called Dean and talked with no expectation of
reciprocation. And he did it, because he knew it would make Dean feel better.
He did it for Dean, and thats the real reason for Deans sudden good mood. Cas looks out for
him, takes care of him, and Dean doesnt want to forget that. He passes the rest of his lunch break,
working his way through his sandwich, and rubbing his thumb across the screen of his phone.

Chapter 8
Cas doesnt say anything, but Dean can tell that hes having a tough week at work. He comes
home tired, sometimes snappish, and Dean does his best to follow every order the instant its
given, even to anticipate some, and he doesnt let his mind wander, and he doesnt do anything
halfway, because he doesnt want to make Cass day any more difficult. Dean wants Cas to be
glad to come home, not only because it means no more work but because it means Dean.
Hes a little more vocal this week even though he gets self-conscious about it, because he knows
Cas likes hearing the sounds he can pull out of Deans throat. Hes also a little more desperate,
rutting up against Cas when theyre making out on the couch, begging with the touch of his hands
with the way his tongue curls around Cass fingers. He blushes while he does it, because hes
embarrassed about this too, but this is what Cas really likes. He likes Dean needy for Cas, because
of Cas, and he likes to tease, to draw it out until Deans begging completely for real, writhing
against Cass body, pleading in deep broken sounds, and its all worth it for the smile on Cass
face when theyre done, for the way he pulls Dean towards him in bed, the way his hands card
gently through Deans hair as they drift off to sleep.
Dean doesnt realize quite how bad things are until Cas drifts off to sleep Saturday afternoon.
Theyve finished lunch, and Cas puts the TV on which shouldve been a clue that not everything
was right, because he generally prefers to read first, and ten minutes into a program on the
invention of the railroad, Cas drifts off to sleep.
Sometimes they nap together, but usually its a post-coital thing, and it involves cuddling and
blankets, but this is a good old-fashioned pass out on the couch because of a long week nap, and
Deans not quite sure what to do. He sits there until Cass hand slips out of his hair and hangs
loose off the couch. Its not express permission to move, but Dean hadnt been ordered to stay,
and hes not tired so hes not planning on sleeping.
Instead, he goes into Cass room and pulls on a pair of lounge pants. Cas prefers Dean without
clothes, but Dean wants his important bits covered for what hes about to do.
The kitchen is spotless, because Cas never uses it, and Deans been thinking since he first saw the
apartment that its a shame to waste such a beautiful kitchen. He understands why Cas doesnt
cook in it; hes not a morning person so that rules out breakfast, and by the time he gets home he
probably doesnt have the patience to cook and why bother making food for yourself when you
can get it delivered?
Dean doesnt ascribe to that philosophy personally, but he understands why some people might.
Cooking is one of Deans few pleasures in life, well it used to be. Now, Dean has considerably
more pleasures in life, most of them thanks to Cas. But Deans a good cook, and he figures theres
nothing better than a home cooked meal to get Cas feeling more like himself.
Its not that this past week has been bad, because nothing with Cas has been bad, but hes been
noticeably off. Also, Cas spends all this time taking care of Dean; washing him off after sex,
tucking him into bed, cuddling him, letting Dean cling after some of the rougher sessions, and its
about time Dean gets to take care of Cas.
He pokes around the kitchen taking inventory, and hes impressed with what he manages to find.
Hed thought Cas wouldnt have anything except the occasional snack food, but he has drawers
full of fruits and vegetables, and he even has some chicken and ground beef in the freezer, and
Dean can definitely work with this.

Around five, Dean starts to worry that Cas isnt going to wake up. What happens in that case?
Does Dean leave dinner on the counter with a note explaining that he left because his hours were
over? Does he wake Cas up to tell him hes leaving? Should he wake Cas up now so they can eat
together?
He busies himself with the clean up from his adventure in cooking and then he strips off Cass
pants and folds them neatly and puts them on the counter so he doesnt forget to tell Cas he wore
them. By the time hes done with all that, Cas begins to stir, solving Deans dilemma of what to
do. He goes back to the couch and kneels by Cass head, and the movement is enough to push
Cas further into wakefulness.
Oh, he says, blinking his eyes open. His voice is deep with sleep, but he smiles as soon as he
sees Dean. Im sorry.
Dean shrugs. You looked like you needed it.
Cas nods but doesnt elaborate. Suddenly, he goes very still, then he turns his head towards the
kitchen. Is something cooking?
Cooked, Dean says, and he bites his bottom lip, hesitant now, because hed taken a pretty big
liberty here, and Cas doesnt seem like the kind of person to mind, but he can never be sure. I
made dinner.
Cas sits up and looks at Dean with something akin to wonder. You can cook?
I like to think so. Guess you can be the judge for yourself.
Cas checks the clock on the TV. 5:15s early enough to eat, he says and stands up, motioning
for Dean to do the same, and Dean cant help his swell of pride. Cas is eager to sit down and eat,
all because Dean made it, and Dean hopes he doesnt disappoint. Maybe he shouldve made
something more conventional. Pizza pasta isnt everyones preferred way to eat their pasta.
Its pizza pasta, Dean explains as they pass into the kitchen. Pasta and sauce and ground beef
and pepperoni and cheese. Oh, and some onions and peppers, but not too many, because I didnt
know how you felt about vegetables.
Cas inspects the pot, poking at it with the wooden serving spoon, and after a moment, he reaches
into the cabinet for a plate. It looks delicious. Not a finger food, though.
Deans a little disappointed about that too, because he likes taking food from Cass hands, nipping
and licking at his fingers, but this isnt about Dean. This is about Cas. Cas puts a generous helping
on his plate, and theyre headed to the table when he spots the pants on the countertop.
I wore them while I was cooking, Dean says, his shoulders hunching in preparation for a
scolding. I wasnt sure what you wanted me to do with them.
You wore my pants? Cas asks, but he doesnt sound angry or even disappointed. He sounds
breathless, hungry. Theyre yours. For when youre here and you need clothes. Ill put them on a
shelf for you.
Dean is all nervous anticipation as Cas takes his first bite of dinner, and it takes a considerable
amount of energy for Dean to stay still, to keep from bouncing on his heels. Sure, Sam likes his
cooking, but hes a teenage boy so hed eat anything in an attempt to fill the gaping hole in his
stomach, and dad and Bobby are just desperate for food that isnt thawed in the microwave.
Dean wants to look up and watch Cas eat the first bite, and he has to fight against that urge too.

He keeps his hands on thighs, his nails digging into his skin, and its ridiculous how nervous he is
about this. He listens for the clink of the fork against the bowl and then imagines Cas drawing the
fork up to his mouth, and his ears strain for any hint of a reaction. Hes braced for the worst, for
Cas to gag, for the fork to clatter back down on the bowl.
Hes not expecting the low groan in Cass throat or the hand that drops to his hair. Cass fingers
scramble against Deans scalp. This is delicious, Cas says. You made this yourself? He tips
Deans head back so Dean can see the truth in Cass eyes, can see the way he hurriedly spears
another bite and then eats it slowly, savoring it.
I had a recipe, Dean says. Well, he had a recipe when he first started making it. Now hes got it
memorized, but it isnt like its a complicated dish. Deans confession doesnt seem to change
Cass enthusiasm for his dinner, and it isnt until hes five bites in that he realizes Deans there,
waiting patiently at his feet.
Im sorry, Cas says, reaching the fork down to offer Dean a bite. This isyou enjoy
cooking?
Yeah. Deans hesitant to admit it, because he got a lot of crap back when he was in school for
knowing how to cook, because cooking is what girls do, but he does enjoy it. He likes losing
himself in the prep and the actual cooking. He likes taking a collection of random ingredients and
coming out with something delicious. What he really likes, though, is how food can say things he
doesnt feel comfortable saying. Chicken noodle soup is his way of coddling Sam even when hes
gruffly telling his brother to suck it up and get better; chocolate cupcakes are congratulations on
good grades even while Deans calling him a nerd; enchiladas are Deans way of saying hes
willing to put in the time and effort for Sams favorite meal.
Would you, Cas pauses, looking nervous for the first time Dean can remember, Would you
mind coming early and cooking on a regular basis? I would pay you, of course, but this is very
good. Much better than the apartment service.
Dean was going to say yes, even before the offer of money which probably isnt a good thing, but
he pushes the thought away and nods, because its not much trouble for him to come cook, and he
does enjoy it, and if it makes Cas this happy then how could he not? Oh yeah, this is definitely not
good.
Wonderful, Cas says. Well finish eating, amend the contract, and then Im going to properly
thank you for making this. Cas leans down to kiss Dean, his tongue snaking out, claiming Deans
mouth, a promise of whats going to come later.
***
Dean doesnt have a chance to bring up the change in his schedule until Sunday morning. Well,
he did have a chance, several chances when he got back from Cass but he didnt want to ruin the
night he and Sam were having. Besides, dad was passed out in his room, and Bobby was out
having a drink with some of his buddies, and Dean didnt want to have to explain the situation
more than once.
Anyways, he rolls out of bed around 10 on Sunday which is still earlier than anyone else is going
to be up and he goes about making French toast. He doesnt make it too often, because its a bit of
a pain, but its Sams favorite breakfast food, and Dean isnt below using food as a bribe.
Sams going to be pissed. Dean knows this, and its why hes putting off the conversation, but
since tomorrow starts his extra hour of work, he cant put it off too much longer. And Dean had
agreed at first for selfish reasons. He likes spending time with Cas, he likes making him happy,

and hed wanted to be there longer, but now that hes had some time to think about it, theres no
way he couldve said no.
Cas is offering him an extra five grand a month and all Dean is doing is working an extra five
hours a week. He obviously cant explain it to Sam like that, because theres no way a bartender
gets that kind of raise, but it lets Dean justify the situation to himself.
Bobby is the first to wander in, and he goes straight for the coffee, downing a cup and pouring a
second before he acknowledges Deans existence. Morning.
Yep. Dean flips the French toast, and his stomach rumbles as the batter sizzles and cooks. Hes
going to have to go through his recipe books at some point and start compiling ideas for what to
make for Cas. The pizza pasta had gone over well which means the pressure is on to keep things
good.
Im off to the beer distributer today, Bobby says. You want anything?
Dean shakes his head. Hes not home enough anymore to drink like he used to which is probably
actually a good thing. Before, when he was only working at the garage, there was all this time
between dinner and bedtime that Dean didnt know what to do with and more often than not hed
end up on the couch with Bobby or dad or both, and theyd watch mindless television and drink.
Now, the only night Dean spends at home is Saturday, and Sams claimed that time; dragging
Dean to the movies, forcing him to play whatever new card game Sam learned at lunch from his
friends.
Who knew being a bartender would actually be good for you, Bobby says.
Dean cant help his smile as he thinks about Cas. Best opportunity of my life.
Bobby raises his eyebrows, and Dean ducks his head, paying special attention to the bacon to try
and cover up the fact that hed been a bit too truthful just then.
Sams the next one to come downstairs, and theyre halfway through breakfast by the time dad
joins them, but Sam eats so much that they still finish at the same time.
I think we just went through a whole loaf of bread, Dean says in awe, once again, at how much
food Sam can pack away. Dean put in a good effort, eating five pieces, but Sam had to have at
least seven. Plus bacon. And eggs. Deans a little worried, because if Sams having another
growth spurt then hes going to shoot up through the roof.
Dean starts washing dishes to distract himself from the fact that he has to talk to them, but once
dad stands up to go putter around or whatever it is he does when hes not working, Dean realizes
he cant hide anymore. All three of them are here, he just has to make a quick announcement and
then they can go back to their lives.
Just a sec, Dean says. I just wanted to let everyone know that Ive picked up a couple more
hours. Nothing major, just five extra a week.
Dean, Bobby starts but Dean quickly cuts him off.
Its fine. They just ran into some trouble with the dinner rush so Im going in an hour early
Monday through Friday to help out.
Its fine? Sam asks, finding his voice. How the hell is that fine, Dean? You already spend all
your time there and now you want to start going more?

Sam, Dean just needs to explain that this is just temporary, that in a few years once Sams
school is paid off and everythings settled then Dean can cut back and they can make up for lost
time. Sam will understand.
Why dont you just live there? Sam explodes. You spend most your time there anyways.
Something in Dean snaps. Hes trying to balance a crazy schedule, hes supporting not only his
brother but also his father, and hes been doing it for years. Hes done a damn good job holding
up under the strain of everything, but no one seems to care. No good work, Dean or even a thank
you, Dean, just why the hell cant you give me more, Dean.
Why dont I live there? Dean shouts back. Maybe because I have to get back to my other job,
you know, the one Im working to put your ungrateful ass through school!
Sams face crumples, but Deans too pissed off to care. Sam cannot be that stupid. Dean knows
that hes tried to keep Sam as sheltered as possible, maybe too much, but theres no way Sam
didnt know that this was all for him. That everything has always been for him. The fire? About
him. John taking Dean to the shooting range? About making sure Dean could protect Sam if
anyone ever came after him again. The first time Dean blew someone back behind a bar? Because
Sam had outgrown his clothes. Everything Dean has ever done has been for his brother, and hes
never resented it, but a little acknowledgement every once in a while wouldnt hurt. And Dean
absolutely refuses to feel like shit for tacking on a couple extra hours, and Sam doesnt get to try
and make him. Thats not the way this works.
Dont raise your voice at your brother, John says.
Dean doesnt even try to choke back his laugh. Right, youre the only one in this family allowed
to yell? Half of dad and Sams communication is in shouting matches across rooms and the other
half is made up of dirty looks and huffed sighs and crossed arms, and dads giving Dean a lecture?
Fuck that.
John stands up so fast his chair goes flying back into the fridge. That is no way to talk to your
father, young man.
Not that young anymore, Dean says, and he grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels off the counter and
disappears into the backyard. He feels a small bit of vindictive pleasure, because hes left them
with the breakfast cleanup.
***
He ends up at Cass apartment, and hes sober enough to know its a terrible fucking idea, but
drunk enough that he does it anyways. He knocks at least, managing to retain some of his
manners, and Cas opens the door, confusion quickly overtaking his face when he sees Dean.
Shit, Dean says, and he takes a step back, because of his terrible ideas, this is a really bad one.
Cas is his employer, his boss, and Dean cant just wander up to his apartment drunk, because hes
fighting with his family. One, its unprofessional and two, Dean likes to think that he still has
some dignity left. Bad idea. Forget you saw me.
Dean takes another step back, stumbles really, and Cas reaches out a hand and grabs Deans wrist.
He yanks Dean through the door, and once its shut, his pins Dean against the unforgiving wood.
Youre drunk, Cas says.
One of my worse traits. Its up there with stupid and stubborn and being a general dumbass. Are
you sure we cant just go with my plan of leaving and forgetting? Reality is starting to set in,

panic quick on its heels. Cas could fire him for this. Dean wouldnt blame him. What if Cas had
had people over? Who even says he wants to see Dean on his off hours? He certainly doesnt
want to see him a drunken pathetic mess. Deans going to get fired, and hes never going to
forgive himself.
Cas catches Deans chin in a firm grip. Stop that. This was not the wisest thing youve done, but
theres no need to talk about yourself like that. Why dont we move to the couch, and you can
explain to me why youre here, six hours early and drunk.
Dont wanna, Dean says even as he lets Cas lead him over to the couch. He falls onto the piece
of furniture with little more than a push and instantly Cas is pressing him down into the cushions,
his presence a heavy weight that Dean doesnt need. Hes gone limp, all the tension and will to
move bleeding into the couch. Hes not going anywhere.
You showed up at my door without invitation, without warning, and intoxicated, Cas says his
voice firm but surprisingly, lacking judgment or anger. You owe me an explanation.
Its only fair, Dean supposes. Got in a fight with my brother which turned into a fight with my
dad so I thought Id get drunk. And then I realized that if I kept drinking I was going to pass out
and forget to come here which would be a pretty shitty ending to my day. So I figured it would be
better to show up here early than to not show up at all.
You fought with your family?
Dean shrugs because its not like thats something new. They fight all the time. And sure, its
usually Sam and dad fighting and Dean trying to stay out of it and ultimately failing, but today he
was right smack in the middle of it. It was his fault, and hes once again managed to disappoint
them, to fall short of their expectations. And he wants to laugh, or maybe cry, because hes doing
this for them. Hes putting Sam through school and putting food on their table and saving up
money to maybe one day put a down payment on a house, and theyre yelling at him for it.
Dean tips his head back against the arm rest and closes his eyes. It eases the relentless pounding in
his head and reminds him that sleep is a pretty fantastic thing, and he should probably do that
soon. Sams got his panties all in a twist about the dinner thing.
Is it a problem? Cas asks his voice even, controlled, no hint of emotion slipping through. We
can go back to the way things were. Its not
Dean sits up and grabs Cass arms, cutting off the rest of his sentence. No! I mean, Dean lets go
and eases back down on the couch, No. I want to.
Dean. Cass hands are gentle on Deans shoulders, and it takes a moment for Dean to realize
why the touch feels so weird. Hes wearing clothes. Theres fabric between him and Cass hands,
and he doesnt like it. If its the money, I can
No, Dean interrupts again, and he sees a twitch in Cass eyebrow, and if Dean was thinking
clearer hed stop butting in, but its pretty obvious he isnt thinking at his best right now. Its not
you dontdamn it. Dean huffs out a sigh. His thoughts are all jumbled up in his head, and he
thinks its probably a good thing. Too many thoughts that are best kept hidden away.
Cas raises an expectant eyebrow. You want to try making sense?
You appreciate me, Dean says and there goes his resolve to keep secret thoughts secret. I want
to be here, and I want to cook for you, because you like it, and you tell me that you do and show
me that you do, and I like that feeling. You know the last time my family got excited over dinner

the way you did last night? You know the last time they said thank you? Dean laughs, but its a
cold sound. Ive been doing it for so long that they expect it, but you treat the most ordinary
things I do as special, and sometimes I think youre a little crazy for it, but that doesnt stop me
from liking it.
Cas is silent in the wake of Deans confession, and Dean groans and throws an arm over his eyes.
I need a better filter. Or you need to tell me to shut up. I think Im going to go to sleep now. Save
myself any more embarrassment.
Cas still doesnt say anything, and Dean decides to take it as a gift and an affirmation of Deans
plans for a nap. Dean shifts a little under Cass weight to get more comfortable, and he chases the
buzzing in his head around in circles until he falls asleep.
***
Dean wakes up covered in a blanket and with an acute sense of embarrassment. It takes him a
moment or two to process why exactly he feels this way and then he groans and tumbles off the
coach. He lies in a heap on the floor for a minute, contemplating whether its worth getting up,
and he eventually decides that it is. Cas hasnt fired him so far, and Deans not going to push his
luck any further.
He gets untangled from the blanket, and he folds it and drapes it carefully over the back of the
couch before checking his phone. Five minutes to seven. Technically, hes still on his time so he
heads back to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face in an attempt to feel a bit more
human.
Hes on his way to the front door to strip down and put his collar on, but Cas comes in while
Deans toeing off his shoes. Cass hands are full of takeout bags from what looks like an Italian
place and Deans mouth waters, and his stomach lurches reminding him that he hasnt eaten since
brunch.
Just a moment, Cas says when Deans undoing his pants. Dean hesitates, and dread squeezes
his chest. Is this it? Is Cas going to wave garlic bread in Deans face and then tell him to get the
hell out? Dean, what happened today, cannot happen again. I dont deal well with surprises. No,
look at me. Dean reluctantly raises his gaze. He already knows he was way out of line. He
doesnt need to be told. I dont mean you coming here if you need to escape or if you want to,
but you need to call me first, and I will tell you if its a good time, and if it isnt then Ill talk you
through whats happening. Im not abandoning you, and Im not telling you I dont care, because I
do. But no more surprise visits.
Dean nods, eager, excited, because hed expected to be fired or lectured, but Cas is forgiving him?
And hes offering Dean friendship? Its weird, but nothing about this situation has been normal,
and Dean should stop expecting it to be.
Good. Get ready and meet me at the kitchen table since you obviously havent eaten dinner.
Dean rushes to obey, but Cas pauses. One more thing. He catches Deans gaze and holds it. If
you ever show up to work under the influence of anything, be it alcohol or drugs, I will send you
home. You judgment cannot be impaired when we scene. Do you understand?
Dean nods and he feels for a moment like hes back in grade school and being chastised by a
teacher.
Good. Cas turns and goes back to the kitchen, leaving Dean to strip in peace.
***

When Dean gets home from the garage on Monday, he goes straight to the kitchen to get dinner
started, and he pauses when he sees Sam set up at the kitchen table, homework spread around
him, but he has to make dinner so Dean comes in anyways and sets the oven to 350. He moves
around the kitchen, ignoring the sound of Sam working and trying not to feel like the silence is
curling fingers around his throat and choking him.
This is ridiculous, Sam says after ten minutes, and Dean gives himself a mental high five for not
breaking first. Look, Im still kind of pissed at you, but I only get to see you a couple hours a
day, and I dont want to spend those avoiding each other. So, truce?
Deans tempted to flip him off and go back to dinner, but he doesnt, because Sam has a point.
They dont get to see a lot of each other and soon Sams going to be in college and too far away to
see at all, and Dean doesnt want to waste the time they do have together.
Fine, truce, Dean says, but theres no way Sams getting off this easy. Dean thinks he might
pour Special K into Sams pillow so when he plops down to go to bed his pillow crackles and
pops and freaks him out. Thats a decent punishment for being a jerk.

Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

Warnings: Unpleasant flashbacks, safewording

There are a lot of things Dean likes about his time with Cas, and very few things he doesnt.
Nothing is perfect which is why he knows he shouldnt get pissed off whenever one of Cass
annoying habits pops up, but theres one that gets him riled up every time.
Cas likes to hand Dean the checks personally.
In the grand scheme of things, Dean shouldnt get as worked up as he does. Dean is providing a
service, Cas is paying him for it, its the way life works. Bobby hands Deans check to him every
two weeks and Dean doesnt have a problem with that. Probably because he isnt playing pretend
boyfriend with Bobby, and hello image he never wanted in his head.
And thats just it. Dean lets himself get lulled into the domesticity, the naturalness of their
arrangement, and sometimes he even lets himself believe that this is real. That Cas cares about
him, that Deans home is an apartment not a crowded room in an ancient house. Dean lets himself
get lost in the lingering touches, the warmth of Cass eyes, and thenbam. Check.
Its not just the shattered fantasy that gets to him, but the whole process. Cas always waits until the
morning, until Deans on his way out the door so he can get to the garage on time and then Cas
hands over a check, all cool politeness and its a shock to Deans system every time. Its a casual
thanks for your time now see yourself out kind of thing, and it makes Deans stomach twist, and
hes unsettled for the rest of the day.
If this keeps up, Bobbys going to eventually notice a pattern, and then hes going to start asking
questions, and Deans going to have to start lying. Well, continue lying. Damn it.
Dean pats his back pocket, where Marchs check is resting to taunt him all day at the garage. Hes
being paid for what hes doing. It isnt real. Its a job. Hes an employee and Cas doesnt care for
him beyond what he can do, whether he does a good job. At least there are no performance
reviews. At least, Dean doesnt think there are. He starts to laugh at the thought of Cas pulling out
a checklist and asking Dean to perform certain acts and then rating them on a scale of Needs
Improvement to Exceeds Expectations.
Dean? Charlie asks, a note of concern in her voice, because Deans standing in the middle of
the garage laughing to himself.
Nothing, Dean says. Uh, whats todays priority?
Charlie frowns like she doesnt buy his answer and is thinking about pressing but then she shrugs
and pulls up an Excel spreadsheet with all the cars that are currently in the shop, waiting to be
worked on.
***
Dean shouldve seen it coming, shouldve been ready for it, but he isnt. Everything hes done

with Cas has been, well, he wants to say tame, but that isnt the right word. Its been different than
what hes done before, and thats why hes let his guard down. Hes forgotten about why hed
gotten out of the subbing business, the dangers it held for him, but all his past fears, his insecurities
have been lurking in the depths of his mind, waiting to rise up and snatch him, and it catches him
completely off guard.
The night starts normally. Dean gets to the apartment, and he strips down then pulls on his lounge
pants and he goes to make dinner. Its ready by the time Cas gets home, and Cas chats while he
eats, occasionally feeding Dean bites even though Dean ate dinner at home with Sam and Bobby
and dad.
Go into the bedroom while I do the dishes, Cas says and Deans interest piques at that, because
the bedroom always means fun. He goes with an eager bounce in his stride that Cas laughs at but
Dean doesnt blush. Not like he used to. Cas likes that Dean enjoys their time together, he likes
Dean willing and eager and likes him even more when hes desperate, and Dean doesnt get quite
so flustered about it anymore. Sometimes, he even exaggerates a little to watch Cass eyes flash, to
get Cass hands to be a touch rougher.
Dean kneels at the foot of the bed and wonders what tonight has in store. Theres nothing lying
about to give him any hint; no toys on the bed, no cuffs draped over the headboard. He knows
Cas isnt careless enough to leave things out where Dean can see them, not when half the fun is
the anticipation, but he only has a few minutes to think about what Cass plans are.
On the bed, Cas says. Hands and knees.
Dean scrambles to obey, because Cas is as eager to get started as Dean is which means tonight is
going to be good. Since Cas is the only one who eats, theres only one glass, one plate, and one
set of silverware to wash and put away, but some nights Cas draws it out, puttering around the
apartment, rearranging the pillows on the couch, sitting down and reading. Tonight is not one of
those nights, and Deans body thrums in anticipation, and he cant help the wiggle of his hips.
He gets his butt swatted for the effort, but theres no real heat behind the smack so Dean just
smiles and sinks down on his elbows. He hears a drawer open, and he wants to turn and see what
Cas is pulling out, but he loves the thrill of not knowing even more than actually knowing so he
balls his hands into fists, and keeps his head down.
Beautiful, Cas says as he runs a hand down Deans butt cheek. I think its a shame that you
have to cover yourself up with clothing all the time. Something drops onto the bed, and then Cas
has both his hands on Deans ass. He squeezes the cheeks together, then pulls them apart, baring
Dean to his hungry gaze, and it makes something hot twist in Deans gut. He has to fight to stay
still now, because he wants to shy away from the attention, he wants to spur Cas into some sort of
action, he wants less, and he wants more, and he cant figure out which he wants more so he stays
still and waits for Cas to make the decision.
I want to watch you get fucked tonight, Cas says, casual, like hes not turning Deans entire
world upside. Dean shudders and arches his back, pushing his ass higher, because hes on board
with this. Cas likes to have Dean fuck himself on his fingers or a variety of toys, likes to watch as
Dean falls apart, as his breathing becomes ragged, as he starts begging for Cas to fuck him instead,
because a piece of plastic or silicone can never feel as good as Cas can.
Cas chuckles and drags his palms down Deans smooth skin. Not quite yet. Have to get you
ready first. Want to see why? Cas taps Deans shoulder, and he turns to see the toy Cas is
holding up. Its a dildo, larger than anything theyve used before, larger than Cas, and Deans eyes
widen against his will.

Thats awfully big, he says, and theres an undercurrent of fear there, but Cas strokes a hand
down Deans side.
Dont worry, well make it fit.
Dean tries to nod, but his throat squeezes up tight, choking out his breath and his words.
Thats awfully big, Dean says, eyeing the dildo with some concern. Alastairs never fucked
Dean himselfthank goodness for small miraclesbut he likes to shove a variety of other things
up there, and apparently the monster dildo is at the top of todays list.
Itll fit, Alastair says, and his fingers curl into Deans flesh, digging harsh crescent moons into
his skin. Ill make sure of it.
Dean scrambles fowards, the sound of his ragged breathing filling his ears, blocking out
everything in the room. He hits the headboard, and it jars him enough to get his voice working
again. Impala, he says, fingers scrabbling at the comforter. Impala. Im
Dean.
Cass voice cuts through Deans panic, and his eyes snap up, and Cas is standing next to the bed,
giving Dean plenty of space, but theres worry etched plainly on his face. Worry and fear, and for
a guy that doesnt play it loose with his emotions, its a little overwhelming.
Shit, Dean says as reality crashes into him. Hes not in the basement of Alastairs house. Hes in
Cass bedroom. Shit, Im so sorry. Cas, I
No. Dont apologize.
But I, had a completely uncalled for freak out. But if Cas doesnt want apologies, then Dean can
do the next best thing. He releases his death grip on the comforter and slides back down the bed
and once he has enough space he turns over, propping himself up on his elbows.
No, Cas says like the word was ripped out of his mouth, sharp edged with mild horror. Dean,
stop.
I can do this, Dean says. He can. Cas has never hurt him in the way other people have. Hes
never done anything to warrant the reaction Dean just had, and Deans fine. He had a bit of a
memory trigger, but hes with Cas, and hes safe, and he can do this. He can be good for Cas.
I dont want you to, Cas says. Dean, turn over.
Cas has been so good to him, and this is how Dean repays him? By losing his shit? No, Dean can
pull himself back together, and he can do this. Everythings going to be fine.
Dean, youre shaking. Were not going to do this. Cass hand touches Deans hip, a gentle
touch, barely there, and Deans hit in the face with a fresh wave of reality. Because he is shaking.
So hard that his body is rocking back and forth, that his shoulders are trembling, on the verge of
giving out. And hes cold. Hes freezing, his skin dotted with goosebumps which makes no sense,
because it isnt cold in here. He was fine just a minute ago.
Im going to draw a bath, Cas says as Dean sags down on the bed, body naturally curling in on
itself, trying to keep the warmth in. Youll be okay?
Dean nods, miserable, because he feels like a child. Cas is stuck taking care of him, again, and
thats not how this is supposed to work. Dean is supposed to be giving, to be making Cas happy,

and not only has he ruined Cass plans for the night but now the man is going to insist on coddling
Dean instead of finding something more fun to do.
The water starts running and a few moments later, Cas is back in the bedroom, a hand held out to
Dean. Come with me?
Its a question, and Dean doesnt like that hes being given a choice, doesnt like that Cas feels
like he has to tread carefully around him, like Deans liable to go off at any second. Its why he
unfurls and takes Cass hand and lets himself be led into the bathroom. The bath is running, filling
up, but the tub is so big its going to take a few minutes.
Cas sits Dean down on the tiled edge of the bathtub, and Dean shivers at the cold touch of tile
against bare skin. A moment later, Cas nudges him and Dean sits up enough for Cas to slip a
towel under him.
What happened? Cas asks. His hands slide up and down Deans arms, a slow drag of warmth,
of reassurance, and they help keep Dean grounded in the present as his mind threatens to drag him
back to the past. Dean doesnt want to pull away from the touch, but he doesnt want to answer
the question so he looks down at the ground.
Dean, Cass voice is gentle but firm, hes not going to waver. You safeworded. We need to
talk about it, because you went someplace bad, and I want to make sure it doesnt happen again,
okay?
Dean nods and while he doesnt look up from the floor, he still starts talking. It was Alastair. A
former client. He was rougher than anyone else, and, he just, he liked to fuck me with things. The
bigger the better, and, just the wording, and I got scared for a second, and it was stupid, because
youre not him. Youre nothing like him, and I know you werent going to do it without prep, you
hesitate to finger me without something to ease the way, butfuck. Dean grinds the palm of his
hand against his eyes. Im sorry. My headIm good now. I promise Im good. Please, let me fix
this.
You are, Cas says and he pushes Deans hands away when they reach for the buttons on Cass
shirt. Youre talking through it and together, were going to fix this. This Alastair, is he, Cas
trails off but one of his hands runs down Deans back, fingers grazing the scars, and Dean pulls
away.
Yeah, he says, his throat tightening up again. Guy was a douche.
Cas reaches over and turns off the water, but he doesnt make any move to get into the bath.
Dean, he waits until he has Deans full attention before he continues, I will never hurt you.
I know, Dean says and thats what makes this so bad. Because he knows. Cas is safe. He can
trust Cas. And how does he repay everything Cas has done for him? By freaking the fuck out.
Dean pushes off the side of the bathtub, because he cant be here right now. He has no idea how
Cas can sit here with him and not be disgusted. Deans broken and mangled, and hes not good. If
he was good, he wouldve remembered that Cas was safe. He wouldnt have gotten caught up in
memories, wouldnt have flinched away like he thought Cas would actually hurt him. He
Cas catches Deans wrist before Dean can run away. You didnt let me finish, Cas says, and he
draws Dean back towards him until hes close enough that Cas can pull him into his arms and run
his hands through Deans hair. I wanted you to hear from me my promise that I wont hurt you
like that, but Im not angry with you. Im not upset or disappointed. You had a normal, human
reaction, Dean. He hurt you, and something like that isnt going to just go away. Now, get in the
bath before it gets cold.

Dean climbs in and Cas strips down, efficient, nothing sexual about it, and he gets into the bath on
the far side, and its big enough that theres space for both of them to be in there without touching.
Dean lingers on his half for a moment before pushing off and floating over to Cas.
This okay? he asks, wrapping his arms around Cass waist.
Anything you want, Cas answers and he places a gentle kiss to Deans temple.
***
Deans not ready for Cass alarm to go off, and hes tempted to clutch a pillow to his ears in an
attempt to drown out the sound, but its too much effort so he just groans and makes a vague off
gesture in the direction of Cass phone.
Cas laughs, which is totally unfair, because Deans usually the morning person while Cas lazes
about in bed, but today Deans feeling drained of energy, even after a full night of sleep. He turns
his head to the side and glares when he spots the clock on the nightstand. Were up early today.
Yes.
No way, Dean says and he throws an arm over his face to block out the light from the lamp Cas
just (cruelly) turned on without warning.
I can make it worth your while, Cas says, and Deans about to protest again when Cas mouths
at his hipbone, sucking a dark bruise into the skin, and Deans legs splay open, and he cant help
but drop his arm so he can see what Cas is up to.
Once Cas realizes he has Deans attention, he smirks and crawls between Deans legs, and Deans
eyes go wide, because Cas doesnt do this very often, and its completely not fair that hes doing it
now, because Dean wants to sleep, but theres no way hes going to say no to this.
Fuck, he groans as the first touch of Cass tongue to his dick.
Well get there, Cas promises before his mouth slides down the length of Deans rapidly
hardening erection. Dean throws his head back against the pillows, because if he watches this then
it will be over way too quickly, and he wants to make this last as long as possible. Cass hands
roam over Deans quads, under his thighs, and a finger drags down his crack and circles his hole
and Dean remembers Cass promise. He wonders if Cas is going to suck him off and then fuck
him while Deans body is still loose and plaint from the aftershocks. His hips jerk at the thought,
and Cas growls a warning that really kind of fails, because his throat vibrates around Deans cock,
and its incredible.
Dean hears the click of a cap, and he has a moment to wonder where Cas had been hiding the
lube before theres a wet finger nudging his entrance, and he decides he really doesnt care. He
spreads his legs as far as he can get them, encouraging, and Cas pulls off to laugh at Deans
enthusiasm and kiss his way down Deans shaft until hes licking at Deans balls.
Please, Dean says, and hes not sure what hes asking for. He wants Cass mouth back, he
wants Cas to fuck him, he wants a lot of things that cant happen at the same time. Cas kisses the
inside of Deans thigh and works another finger in, slow, teasing, until they can both slide in and
out together.
Look at you opening up for me, Cas says, and Deans cheeks heat up, because Cas is actually
looking. Hes unashamedly staring at his fingers as they disappear into Deans body and then pull
back out, and Dean feels like this is something he should be embarrassed about, but he cant be,

not when Cas has that look on his face. Cass thumb teases Deans rim every time his fingers drive
in, and Deans stomach flutters, waiting for the extra penetration that never comes. The promise of
it is enough for his muscle to clench, for him to spiral higher.
Cass fingers scissor inside of him, stretching him, a pleasant ache that has more pleas on the tip of
his tongue, but before Dean can articulate any of them, Cas is ducking down again and flicking
his tongue between his spread fingers.
Shit, Dean breathes, and he fists his hands in the covers so he doesnt fist them in Cass hair,
because holy shit this is good. Cas is fucking into him with his tongue, his fingers holding Dean
open so its easy, and it makes Dean feel loose and used and so fucking good.
Cas pulls back, leaving Dean empty and wanting, and he makes a needy sound in the back of his
throat and then three fingers are pushing into him, and they nail his prostrate on the first thrust, and
Dean arches and moans and Cas does it again. Dean feels like the breath is being punched out of
him on each thrust, and his hands reach up behind him, wishing there was a bar or chains or
something there for him to curl his hands around and hold onto.
So good, Cas says. Youre doing so good. You want more? His gazes shifts over to the
bedside table, and Dean knows immediately what hes asking. He also knows that Cas wont be
upset if he says no. One shake of his head, and Cas will get him off just like this, but Dean nods
instead, because hes loose and hes open, and he trusts Cas. If he didnt think Dean was ready, he
wouldnt have asked, and Dean might not feel entirely ready, he might pull his bottom lip between
his teeth, worried, but Cas is the one who bought the toy, hes the one who just had his fingers in
Deans ass; he knows whether Deans stretched enough to take it.
Cas gets the toy lined up but then he hesitates, giving Dean one last chance to back out. Dean rolls
his hips forward, taking the very tip of it into his body, and thats all the reassurance Cas needs.
He slides it in, slow, giving Deans body time to adjust to the size. Deans body stretches around
it, clings to it, and he feels full before Cas pulls the toy back and thrusts back in.
Cas picks a steady rhythm, and his free hand circles Deans cock, gives it a few pulls, and Dean
thrashes and shakes his head, because hes so close, and he doesnt think hes going to be able to
hold back, but he wants to.
No, Dean says, and he doesnt slap at Cass hands, but its a close thing, and he digs his nails
into his thighs instead, hoping the pain will stave off his impending orgasm. No, please, Cas, I,
Cas pauses, hand halfway down Deans cock, dildo deep inside Deans ass. I want you inside
me when I come. Please, Cas, dont want to come around that. I want you. Please. I
Cass eyes darken, irises almost completely eclipsed by his pupils, and he yanks the toy out and
throws it over his shoulder, and Dean has a brief moment to catch his breath before Cas drives into
him. Perfect, Cas murmurs, hot against Deans throat. Too good to me. You have no idea.
Youre wonderful. You,
Dean loses the rest of the sentence as his release over takes him, white noise filling his ears,
drowning everything out as his body shakes and shudders under Cas.
Beautiful, Cas is saying as Dean comes back down, and he wipes away tears Dean hadnt
realized hed shed. He leans in and kisses Dean, a soft claim of his lips before Cas is coming too,
and he manages to roll off Dean before collapsing against the mattress.
Youre right, Dean says once hes got his breath back. That was worth waking up for. It
doesnt come out quite as casual as he meant, more sincere than teasing.

Chapter 10
I have an announcement, Sam says at dinner, and Dean stops shoveling food into his mouth
long enough that Sam knows he has his attention. I got a job. Sams clearly proud of himself,
but he looks to everyone else for praise anyways, and at first all Dean can manage to do is nod his
head.
A job? he finally asks.
Yeah. Werent you the one telling me that its my senior year and that once I got into school I
could quit worrying about grades so much?
Dean had said that, but that hadnt been a nudge in the job direction. That had been a nudge in the
go out and actually have some fun direction, but Sam, once again, has missed the concept of
having a good time with friends.
Thats great, Bobby says when its clear no one else is going to. Where you working?
Tavolonis, Sam says. Its an Italian place a couple blocks from them. Theyre starting me off
with Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights but if I do well then theyll consider giving me more
hours. Dean, Sams face falls, You arent happy for me?
Of course I am. Dean manages to force a smile onto his face, and its not fair for Sam to drop a
bombshell like this and except an immediate positive reaction. Sam got a job? Deans been
working his ass off so Sam doesnt have to and now Sams gone and gotten himself employed?
Deans grateful for the help, even if its a little late, but hes afraid this is Sams reaction to feeling
guilty over their fight.
Im only working while youre gone, Sam says. So you dont have to worry about that, and if
they increase my hours then Ill have something to do during the summer, and youre always
doing all this stuff for me, and I just want to help out.
Bobby nudges Dean under the table, and Dean ratchets up his smile. No, Sam, thats good. Im
glad youve found something to do. Studying probably gets boring, and itll be good to have some
spending money when you go to school. You can take all the pretty girls out on dates.
Sam rolls his eyes, but hes no longer looking like Dean kicked his puppy so thats good. What
about you, Dean? When are you going to take a pretty girl out on a date?
Dean shrugs and shovels more food into his mouth. Thats a talk for another time.
***
Deans still thinking about Sams sudden employment when he gets to Cass that night, because
dad had followed up Sams news with the news that hed gone from 15 hours a week to 25 at the
garage, and Deans glad that theyre both starting to contribute to the family, but hes afraid its
some passive aggressive way of trying to get him to cut back at Cass. Dean cant stop going to
Cass as much without redoing their contract (which he doubts Cas will be willing to do) but Dean
doesnt want to work less for him even if he could. He enjoys his time at Cass, and he knows that
its limited. One day Cas is going to stop employing him, and Deans never going to see him
again, but Deans never going to lose Sam. Fifteen years from now theyre still going to be
visiting each other and calling each other, and Sam will tell Dean all about the big cases hes
winning and some of the crazy people he runs into on his job.

Youre distracted, Cas says and Dean shakes his thoughts away.
Sorry.
Cas cards his hand through Deans hair. Whats going on? He turns the volume down on the
TV and shifts so he and Dean are looking at each other.
Its, Deans about to say nothing when he sees the look on Cass face, and he swallows his
instinctive answer back down. Sams got himself a job, and its weird. I mean its good, because
itll give himself something to do, but I feel like its his way of saying he doesnt need me
anymore.
He does still need you, but he wont always.
Dean pulls away, putting some space between them. He doesnt like to think about the future too
much. There are too many struggles in the now to think about everything thats going to come
later. Later is the mystical time when Sam is a lawyer and everything in their life is settled and
good, and Sams happy and because Sams happy, Dean can be happy. There are no concrete
details, but Dean likes it that way. Hes afraid if he looks too closely then everything wont be as
good as he wants it to be.
What are you going to do when that happens? Cas asks, and Dean wants to twist away, he
wants to pull his clothes back on, he wants to burrow under a blanket and hide, because he feels
exposed right now, and not in the way hes used to here. Are you happy fixing cars or is it
something youre doing as a means to get Sam where he wants to go? Cas strokes the side of
Deans face, like he cares about him, and thats the worst part of this whole thing. This isnt a
teachers disappointment about how Dean isnt making use of his potential, this isnt even
Bobbys angry shouting that eventually led to Dean pursuing his GED. This is something
different, something dangerous, because it makes warmth unfurl in Deans chest, because it makes
him feel like someone actually cares about him for once.
What do you want? Cas asks, his voice soft, but its like a roar in Deans ears, and it threatens to
send Deans entire world crashing at his feet, because his life has been about taking care of Sam,
taking care of dad, move move move, and to never think about his life or his future.
This is too much, and Deans not ready so he puts on his cockiest grin and spreads his legs so Cas
sinks between them. I want you to fuck me.
Disappointment flashes across Cass face, and its like a punch to the gut, but before Dean can
recover, Cas fists a hand in Deans hair and jerks his head back. Deans back arches, pulling him
away from Cass hold, and it sends a new wave of pain sparking through his scalp, and Dean
clings to it, chases it, because he wants to be pulled under. He wants to be rescued from his
thoughts. He wants to think of nothing but the sharp edge of pain, the slap of skin against skin.
***
Dean carries around bruises for days, hidden under t-shirts and flannels, tucked away beneath his
boxers and whenever he has a minute alone, he looks at them. His body is a map of Cass
attention; finger shaped marks around his biceps, others on the outside of his thighs with thumb
prints embedded on the innermost part of his thighs. There are marks left from Cass mouth ringed
around his nipples, carefully made above the jut of his hipbone. Theres even one at his
collarbone, straddling the line of visible, and Dean has to wear t-shirts with stiff collars to hide it.
Theyre reminders of more than just a night together, and Dean finds himself cutting out of
Bobbys early one afternoon and making the drive down to Killian Community College to check

out a few brochures. Its not like hes committing to anything, hes just going to look around. See
if anything catches his eye.
Cas hadnt asked Dean anything Dean hasnt thought about before, just things Dean has been
trying his best not to think about. Only, Deans running out of time. Sams going off to college
next year, and the way this job with Cas is going its only going to take two years to make the
money hell need to see Sam through. And thenthen what? Then, after 20 years, Dean will be
done taking care of Sam. Sams already started looking out for himself and once hes a lawyer, he
wont need Dean anymore, and where will Dean be? Stuck fixing cars.
He wanders through the admissions office, head down, because he doesnt want to attract
attention, and he looks through the little pamphlets that talk about the degrees offered and what
people can do with them. Hes browsing one on their psychology program when he sees a freshfaced intern headed his way, and he rushes out of the building before she tries to tell him how
Killian can change his life.
He shoves the pamphlet under his pillow and then grabs his jacket and yells to Sam that dinners
on their own tonight before rushing off to Cass.
***
Theres a note waiting for Dean that night. Leave your lounge pants on, and wear the t-shirt as
well. Make something you enjoy for dinner. Its different from anything Cas has ever left for him,
and Deans grateful that hes included in dinner tonight, because he didnt have time with his
impromptu runaround this afternoon.
He also cant help but wonder if maybe hes being punished for something, because Cas never has
Dean in clothes. Cas likes him to be naked, but Dean cant remember anything hes done wrong,
and Cas hadnt mentioned that he was displeased, but theres probably something. Theres always
something.
Dean has to physically stop moving and force himself to take a deep breath, because he can feel
the panic clawing up his throat, threatening to overtake him. Theres no point in analyzing the past
week to death. When Cas gets home, hes going to do whatever hes going to do, and hell
explain what Dean did wrong, and Dean will make sure not to do it again. For now, Dean needs
to focus on what he can control; dinner.
He settles for spaghetti and meatballs, because itll take him most of the hour to put together, and
hes noticed that Cas has a certain fondness for ground beefmeatballs, shepherds pie, pizza
pastaand Dean wants to show that hes attentive, and that he cares about making Cas happy.
Theres already ground meat thawing in the fridge, and he takes it out and hunts around for some
peppers and onions and cheese as well and he lays it all out on the counter and sets to work.
Its weird, having a t-shirt on, and Deans a little afraid of that fact. Ever since Alastair he likes to
keep his back covered, by shadow if not fabric, and hes not sure what to make of the fact that
hes comfortable here now with his worst flaws exposed. He tugs at the hem of the t-shirt, and its
soft, not the kind you can buy if youre the kind of person to blow a lot of money on t-shirts, but
the kind thats soft because of years of use. The shirt must be one of Cass favorites, and Dean
pauses to turn his face into the sleeve and inhale and suddenly this seems much less like a
punishment.
Hes cradled in Cass clothes, the best hell get until Cas himself comes home, and he runs his
hands down the soft, worn sides of the shirt, pressing the fabric against his skin, and he tilts his
head back and just enjoys for a moment.

***
Good evening, Cas says when he comes through the door. He goes straight to the kitchen table,
puts his briefcase on the chair across from his usual seat, and hangs his suit jacket on the back of
the same chair. It smells delicious.
Thats the garlic bread, Dean says, and he cant take his eyes off Cas as he undoes the buttons
on his cuffs and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Its just a hint of skin, but its more than Dean
usually gets and then Cas reaches up and tugs at his tie, loosening it enough that the knot hangs
low, and Deans tongue darts out to wet his lips.
Spaghetti and meatballs? Cas asks, going over to the stove to investigate. How fitting.
Yeah? Dean peers over Cass shoulder, but he doesnt see any secrets in the bubbling sauce or
finished spaghetti.
Its date night, Cas says and he takes advantage of Deans shock to give him a nudge towards
the table. Please get us drinks and sit down.
Deans brain stumbles over sit down, but he pours them both water, and he sets the glasses down
at the table, and then he just stands in the space where he usually kneels and looks to Cas. Cas has
a plate in each hand, each loaded with food, and he sets one down at his place and the second
down at the chair he wants Dean to sit in.
Do I need to tell you again? Cas asks, and his voice is enough to jolt Dean into action. Hes not
sure what kind of game their playingdate night, really?but the underlying constant to
everything they do is that Cas gives orders and Dean obeys. So he slides into the chair even
though it feels weird to be sitting at the table with Cas, and he immediately looks to Cas for
direction. The other man is shaking out his napkin and placing it on his lap and Dean follows suit.
You dont need to look so nervous, Cas says, and his fingers are a light touch on the back of
Deans hands. This isnt a test. Were two men eating dinner together, and after we eat dinner
were going to watch a movie in the living room.
Deans uneasy at the idea of date night, because hes joked in his head about this being less about
being a hired sub and more about being a hired boyfriend, but this is turning those into reality
instead of jokes and suddenly theyre not funny anymore. This is straying into dangerous territory,
and Dean wants to back out, because he cant get invested in this, he cant, but then Cass fingers
curl around his hand and give it a brief squeeze, and Deans worries are replaced by how right it
all feels.
Damn it. This isnt good. He knows it isnt good, but he doesnt want to fight the goofy smile
spreading across his face, and he doesnt want to shoot down the unguarded feeling in Cass eyes
so instead he twirls his spaghetti around his fork. Im on board as long as we dont start
reenacting Lady & the Tramp. Way too clich.
Ill try to avoid any urges to turn tonight into a Disney film, Cas says and he pulls his hand back
so he can cut up his meatballs, and Dean doesnt like the sudden loss he feels. The feeling doesnt
last for long. Dean gets his next forkful to his mouth, and then Cass foot hooks around Deans
ankle, the touch a maddening tease throughout the rest of dinner.
They do the dishes together, again, unusual for them; though, really, Dean does the dishes and
Cas hovers behind him, his hands a feather light touch on Deans hips, Cass chest mere inches
from Deans back. Theyre close enough that Dean can feel the warmth of Cass body, can feel
the urge to lean back, like Cass mere presence is pulling him in, but Cass hands stay steady on

Deans hips, keeping him right where he is.

It sends a small shiver up Deans spine, makes his heart clench in anticipation for the rest of the
night. Movie means close proximity, lights out, but if the night continues like this, theyre going to
continue playing the will we or wont we game. At least he knows that date night will end with
doing it. Or, he assumes. He actually doesnt know. Cas is in an unpredictable mood tonight and
for some reason that thought is what stirs the arousal growing beneath Deans skin. A thrill shoots
his body at the thought that anything could happen tonight. Halfway through the movie, Cas could
pin Dean down and shove a hand down his pants. Or, they should share a chaste kiss during the
credits and Cas could leave Dean to sleep on the couch.
Huh, Dean says, and he doesnt realize he said it out loud until Cas nuzzles the back of his neck
and asks, What?
Just thinking, Dean says as he puts the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher. Nothing important.
Okay. Cas presses a light kiss at the base of Deans neck. Finish up. Im going to pick our
movie.
Cas is still fiddling with the DVD player when Dean comes in, and Deans first instinct is to kneel
next to Cass spot on the couch, but then he remembers dinner, and he hesitantly sits down on the
couch. Cas doesnt say anything when he comes over which Dean takes to be a good sign. Cas
sits down, about two inches of space between them, and Dean wants to scoot over so their thighs
are pressed up against each other and their shoulders are brushing, but he knows everything Cas
does is deliberate so if theyre sitting two inches apart then thats how Cas wants them.
The menu screen music pulls Dean away from his frustration and he looks up to see Tom Cruises
familiar face grinning at them. A Few Good Men? Dean asks. I love this movie.
I knew you had good taste.
Its warm and approving, and Dean feels an answering tingle in his body. If this were an actual
date hed make a sly comment about how of course he had good taste, he was here with Cas after
all, but this isnt a date, and Deans not sure how far hes allowed to push so he keeps quiet.
Dean tries to get lost in the familiar story, but he finds that he cant, because his mind is hyper
aware of how close Cas is; the heat radiating from his body, the way he shifts in his seat, moving
first incrementally closer to Dean then incrementally further away. Hes also hyper aware of how
far away Cas is; the gap between them seemingly widening before Deans very eyes, the mere
inches Deans hand would have to travel to close it, but he hasnt been given permission, and he
doesnt want to ruin the moment, because he can be content. He can lean back and watch the
movie and enjoy the movie.
But he wants more.
Ten minutes in, Dean sees Cass hand twitch, and its far more interesting than Tom Cruise, and
Dean eyes the appendage from the corner of his eye, and his breath catches when Cass hand
slides over, never leaving his own thigh, but moving closer to Dean, and Dean wants so bad to be
the palm resting on Cass thigh that he aches with it.
And then Cass hand turns over, palm up, an invitation. Or a tease. Deans not sure, and his own
fingers curl, wanting to reach out and lace through Cass, but hes not sure. Will Cas smile, eyes
still on the TV, and hold Deans hand in return? Or will he pull his hand back, maybe cross his
arms over his chest so Dean cant try again?

Deans hand inches towards Cass, and hes not even pretending to watch the movie anymore;
hes staring at Cass hand, waiting for some kind of sign, something to tell him whether this is a
good idea or not. He doesnt get one, and his heart pounds louder and louder in his ears the closer
his hand gets to Cass, because once their skin touches its the moment of truth. Deans starting to
sweat. His palms and his armpits, and he hasnt been this nervous in years. Not since he asked
Rhonda Hurley out when he was 16, and it turned out he had no need to be so nervous, because
shed said yes and then completely turned his world upside down.
Here on Cass couch, hes suddenly 16 again, shy, nervous, and petrified of doing the wrong
thing, and every sign he gets could go either way. Cas could be still because hes waiting for Dean
to make the move or because hes hoping Dean will get the hint that his hand isnt creeping
forward and quit what hes doing. Cas could have his eyes trained on the TV because he wants to
pretend like hes unaffected or because hes actually invested in the movie and will be angry if
Dean interrupts his viewing. Cass hand could be upturned in an invitation or it could just be
comfortable.
Deans hand has reached the edge of his thigh which means theres only two inches between him
and Cas now, but theyre two empty inches. Dean cant pretend that he accidently brushed Cass
hand with his own. He has to cross the empty space, make a bold, deliberate move, and suddenly
date night doesnt seem as relaxing as Dean had anticipated. His heart is jack hammering in his
chest, and he has to wipe his palm on his pants, because if he does reach out to hold Cass hand,
he doesnt want his palm to be wet.
Its a bad idea, he decides, and he turns back to the movie. A moment later, hes back to staring at
Cass hand, because its calling to him, and he cant look away. Its a taunt, a dare to see if hes
man enough, and he is. He can do this. Deep breath andwhat if this is a test and he fails and
then Cas tells him to get on the floor and leaves him? Dean doesnt want Cas to be disappointed
with him, but theres this low heat in Deans gut that is begging him to reach out and touch Cas.
The brush of fingertips against his leg. Something. Anything.
Dean takes a deep breath and just does it. He slides his fingers through the space between Cass,
and their palms press hot against each other, and Dean doesnt realize he forgot to exhale until Cas
squeezes Deans hand and then all the air is pushed out of his lungs in one go. Because Cas didnt
pull away. Theyre holding hands now, and theyre watching a movie, and the
nervoustwistedgood feeling in his stomach hasnt gone away, but it settles, there and warm, and
Dean does the most natural thing in the world.
He drops his head on Cass shoulder.
Cass body goes still, and Deans afraid that he pushed too far but then Cas chuckles, low and
pleased, and he turns his head to press a kiss to Deans hair.
Any other night, Dean thinks he wouldve been able to fall asleep like this, his head resting on
Cass shoulder, their hands intertwined, but tonight is different. At one point, Cas nudges Deans
knee and that small point of contact lights a fire under Deans skin and he wantsneedsmore,
but he doesnt get it. At the same time, Dean thinks he could spend forever like this, hovering on
the edge of more, cradled by what he has, and by the time the credits are rolling, hes not sure hes
ready for the movie to end.
Cas turns, jostling Dean, and Dean lifts his head off Cass shoulder and finds that Cass face is a
lot closer than expected. Theyre so close Dean can feel each warm exhale, the brush of Cass
breath across his lips. Deans lips tingle, desperate for something more, for the press of Cass
mouth, for the drag of a finger, and Deans lips unconsciously part, asking for what hes afraid to
with words.

He looks up at Cas for guidance, but Cass gaze is on Deans lips, like hes thinking about kissing
him, and Dean wants it. He wants to lean in and take the decision out of Cass hands, because
Dean wants to be kissed, and Cas obviously wants to kiss him, but Dean stays still. Cass eyes
flick up to his and they crinkle at the corners, amused, like he knows what Deans thinking.
And then, finally, Cas is leaning in, and Deans eyes flutter shut, and its why he misses the way
Cas tilts his head, and he doesnt realize whats happening until Cass lips brush his cheekhis
fucking cheekand then Cas pulls back completely, leaving Dean surrounded by cold, empty air.
We should get ready for bed, Cas says and he stands, clearly expecting Dean to follow.
Dean does, even if hes a bit grumpy as he does it. Youll only kiss me on the cheek, but youll
share a bed with me? Youre sending out mixed signals here.
Complaint duly noted, Cas says and he pats Deans cheek, the one thats still throbbing with the
kiss, but nothing untoward will happen in my bed tonight.
They brush their teeth, and Cas changes into pajamas, and he tells Dean to keep his pants and shirt
on, and then they climb into bed. To round out an already strange night, Cas curls up, facing
Dean, but with plenty of space between them. He smiles at Deans scowl and reaches a hand into
the space.
Dean should be freaked out by the fact that hes holding Cass hand and that theyre falling asleep
looking at each other. This has crossed the line from sex into intimacy, but it feels good so Dean
decides to worry about it in the morning.

Chapter 11
Chapter Notes

Warnings: Emotional and threatened physical abuse (not Dean-Cas), Dean's in a bad
head space, Dean tries to manipulate Cas into hurting him

Dean rides the high from date night for almost a whole week. The days blend together, and he
doesnt bother with things like dates, only days of the week, and its nice floating through time
like this. He just goes from one job to the next, and he smiles at Sam and chats with him about
school and then he drifts to where he needs to be next, and he shouldve been paying more
attention, because when Monday comes, he crashes. Hard.
Monday morning is April 1st, and Deans handed a check before Cas kisses him and disappears
out the door. Dean stands there, stunned, wondering if Cas even realized that Dean hadnt kissed
him back. The morning after date night, Dean had snagged Cass wrist when he was rushing out
the door and pulled him in for a brief, have fun at work kiss, and Cas had been surprised but the
next morning hed initiated the kiss and Dean figured everything was fine.
Today though. Today it felt like a punch to the gut. Cas cant hand him a check and then kiss him
like that. Except he can. Cas can do whatever the hell he wants, and its Deans fault for getting
his emotions mixed up in his work. Hes getting paid for this, and he needs to remember that. As
much as it feels real; it isnt, and as long as he holds onto that thought hes fine.
Hes not fine.
He tells himself he is, but twenty minutes into his shift at the garage, Bobby snaps at him to go
take his Midol and stop being such a prissy bitch, and Dean realizes that hes not okay at all. He
cant completely lose his shit every month. He needs to do something about it. He calls Gabriel at
his lunch break and tells him he needs to come in and talk to him, and Dean must sound off,
because Gabriel agrees immediately, tells him hes penciled in for 4:20.
Dean brings a caramel mocha latte with him, because he feels guilty about taking up Gabriels
time and about making him worry about something that doesnt require worry, but the coffee
seems to make things worse, because as soon as Gabriel sees it, his eyebrows pull together.
Sorry, Dean says setting the drink down, and hes not even sure what hes sorry for. Sorry for
being a burden? Sorry for interrupting Gabriels plans for his day? Sorry for not being able to do
his job like he should?
Have you done something wrong? Gabriel asks.
No, I just, Dean blows out a breath and realizes how stupid hes about to sound. Hed called
Gabriel in a panic, because something has to be done, and Dean doesnt know what, but how
does he say he doesnt want to get paid directly, because he wants to pretend that hes in an actual
relationship? One, thats unhealthy. Two, its stupid. Three, this isnt even Gabriels job. Shit.
Sorry. I should go.
Uh, no you dont. Gabriels up and out of his seat in an instant, and he locks the door which
isnt much of a deterrent for Dean, but it will keep anyone else out of the office. Something

happen with Cassie?

Cassie? Dean shakes his head. No, nothing bad. Nothing for you to get worried about. Its just
can we set up a direct deposit?
Gabriel is speechless for the first time Dean can ever remember, and Dean feels another wave of
guilt wash over him, because Gabriel was probably worried about a contract breach or that Cas
had hurt Dean in a way that wasnt fun, and that isnt the case at all. What? Gabriel finally asks.
He does this thing where he likes to hand me the checks personally which isnt the weirdest thing
a clients done, but what he wants from meI cant be constantly pulled out of my headspace like
that. My family has starting giving me a wide berth on the first of the month, and sooner or later
theyre going to get tired of the period jokes and try to figure out whats going on.
Emotions flit across Gabriels face, too fast for Dean to catch, and once his expression is blank
again, he picks up the coffee and takes a long drink. Cant help you with this. The check thing is
one of Castiels personal hang-ups, and I cant discuss it with you. I would suggest talking to
him.
Dean wants to know why hes gone from Cassie to Castiel, but Gabriel isnt in a talkative mood,
and Dean doesnt want to push. Dean also wants to point out that if he felt comfortable with it, he
wouldve talked to Cas first instead of Gabriel, but he doesnt.
Just tell him what you told me, Gabriel says. He pops the lid off his coffee and breathes in the
steam before looking back at Dean. And be ready to offer up something of your own. Present it
as an information exchange, and hell be more likely to go along with it. Dean must look
especially dire, because Gabriel pops open his desk drawer and tosses Dean a chocolate. Youll
be fine. He likes you.
Deans not particularly heartened by the advice, but he takes the chocolate and heads out. He
doesnt have much time before he has to head over to Cass, and he still needs to shower and
make dinner for the family.
***
Dean didnt talk to Cas Monday night because everything was fresh in his mind, and he wanted a
night to sleep on it, to think things through, to figure out whether he was overreacting or not. He
didnt talk to him Tuesday night, because hes a coward.
But, today is Wednesday, and Deans going to talk to Cas. He was on car washing duty today,
because Bobbys still pissed about Monday, and while it was a punishment, it was also good in
some ways, because washing cars is mindless, and it let Dean think. He knows what information
Cas is going to want in exchange for explaining to Dean the whole check thing, and Dean spends
his entire shift trying to figure out two things; one, is it worth talking about Alastair in order to get
what he wants and two, how the hell hes going to talk about Alastair.
Deans done his best to shove the crazy son of a bitch as far out of his mind as he can, and hes
not looking forward to dredging it all up again. Alastair definitely marks the lowest point of
Deans life. It had been a desperate time, for the family, for Dean himself, and he escaped with a
lot more scars than the ones he carries on his back.
Still, if this is going to be a long-term thing, which its looking like it is, Cas should know about
Alastair, about Deans triggers, about his nightmares, about the things that might set him off. He
doesnt think tonight will be easy; hes only ever talked about Alastair with one person, and when
he talked to Gabriel it was in broad brushstrokes, and Dean made sure to keep it professional. He

was telling Gabriel things that he needed to know as Deans employer, not as someone who cared.
It was a quick these are the things I cant do and these are the things that I dont want to do, but I
wont freak out and accidently break someones hand if Im pushed on it.
So Deans got his plan all in place, all he has to do is get to Cass and implement it.
Deans plan is derailed as soon as he gets off his shift at Bobbys. He bounds up the stairs so he
can grab some clothes and shower, and he freezes when he gets to his and Sams bedroom,
because his dad is there, going through Deans stuff. Dean doesnt know whether his dads
looking for money or a hidden stash of booze or hell, Deans collection of porn, but it twists
something up inside him, because his dad is snooping through his room. Dean had thought they
were making progress, and they are but in a one step forward two steps back sort of way and
Dean supposes that makes today a step back kind of day.
Really? Dean asks, and he doesnt feel bad for startling his dad, but when John turns around, he
has the psychology pamphlet from Killian in his hand, and hes looking at Dean like he doesnt
know him.
Youre going off to school too?
No. Dean snatches the pamphlet away and hunches his shoulders. Its a community college.
Its like fifteen minutes from here. And I was just looking. And maybe hed started poking
around to see how much it cost and if he could take a couple classes at a time, but its not like hes
filling out an application or putting down a deposit. Hes investigating. And its no ones business
but his.
Yeah. John laughs. Dont want to reach too high there.
Its not a big deal. I was bored one day and went for a walk and its whatever. Look, what are
you doing in Sams room anyway? And wheres Sam?
Library. Took off as soon as he heard me come through the door. Kids about as subtle as a
brick.
His dad looks genuinely upset that Sam doesnt want to be anywhere near him, but Deans not
feeling particularly sympathetic at the moment. Maybe he didnt want to be around you when
you started drinking.
I wasnt going to have a drink, John says and Dean rolls his eyes because he knows dad was
either looking for alcohol or money to go buy alcohol with. I havent had one in a week.
Dont lie to me, Dean says. Im not Sam. Im not going to believe you. You keep a stash of
beer under the porch, but you ran out last night and havent been out to buy more. Johns mouth
opens, another lie ready but Dean shakes his head. Dont. Ive been talking to Bobby. Youre
coming in late and hung over as fuck or youre missing shifts entirely. You need to pull yourself
together. If he was anyone else, he wouldve fired you by now, and hell fire you soon if you
dont shape up.
Im fine, John says, and Dean loses it.
Youre not fine! he shouts, his hands clenching into fists, and he hears the crunch of paper as his
pamphlet gets crushed. Dad, youre a fucking mess, and Ive let it slide, because I keep hoping
that one day youll wake up and snap out of it, but you havent, and Im afraid that you wont, and
you need to. Because Sam? Hes not going to stick around forever, dad. Hes going off to college
and then hes going to grad school, and hes going to pick some fancy city to live in, and hes

going to be a lawyer, and hes going to leave us behind. And do you know what? Right now, he
can storm out of the house when you get home, but at the end of the day he has to come back.
Once he goes to college? He doesnt have to come back. He doesnt have to invite you to visit. If
you dont get your fucking act together then youre going to lose him, and I know you two scream
at each other every chance you get, and I know you pretend you dont care, but you do. You keep
this up and one day hes going to walk out that door, and hes not ever going to come back.
Deans panting at the end of his rant, and the sound of his breathing is deafening, stretching across
the silence of the room, eating up all the space, and then John looks up, fire and rage in his eyes.
Who the hell do you think you are, boy? John demands. Youre lecturing me? On how I
should live my life? On how I should treat my family? Why dont you try addressing me with a
little more respect? He stalks into Deans space, and Dean instinctively curls in on himself. Im
your father, and I run this house.
Dean should duck his head and let his dad walk on by, but maybe hes feeling reckless today,
maybe hes feeling stupid, because instead he laughs. Newsflash, dad. Were in Bobbys house.
You arent running shit.
John raises his arm and for one brief, terrifying moment, Dean thinks his dad is about to hit him,
but then John storms out of the room, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the room. Dean
takes a few stuttering breaths, and when he relaxes, the crumpled pamphlet falls to the floor. He
picks it up and tries to smooth out the wrinkles before he gives up and tosses it in the trash. It had
been a ridiculous thought anyways.
Dean goes and takes his shower, but he cant stop shivering no matter how high he turns the
water, and when he finally steps out to dry off, his skin is red and angry. He puts on clean clothes,
packs his bag for Cass and heads downstairs to throw dinner together. Hes tempted to storm out
of the house like dad had, but he doesnt want Bobby and Sam to suffer just because Deans in a
pissy mood. He should warn them about dad though, and Dean immediately feels guilty because
hed pissed dad off and hes going to run away from the consequences. Its Sam and Bobby who
are going to have to put up with dads mood swings tonight, with his drinking (Deans positive he
left to go to the liquor store) and that isnt fair.
Dean slams his fists down on the counter, and when he feels the hot prickle of tears at the corners
of his eyes, he does it again. It doesnt stop the first tear from rolling down his cheek, and it
doesnt stop the helplessness clawing through Deans chest. Everything is falling apart around
him, and he cant move fast enough to catch it, and it seems like every time he dives to save one
thing, he knocks something else over and soon everything is going to be in pieces, and its all
going to be his fault.
He hears the door open, and he quickly brushes at the tears in his eyes, and he grabs an onion and
starts chopping it into messy, imprecise bits just in case anyone looks too close at him and thinks
his eyes are redder than they should be.
Dads in a mood, Sam says swinging the fridge open, looking for something to eat. He doesnt
find anything to his liking and shuts it again. He came to the library. I didnt even know he knew
where the library was. Wanted to know where I got off on abandoning my family. He got escorted
out by the head librarian. Im going to have to find a new place to study for a while. He pokes his
head into the cabinets, continuing his quest for food.
Im sorry.
Sam waves a hand. Not your fault. None of my safe havens stay that way for long.

But it is my fault. I found him in our room, and I got pissed, and I said some things I shouldnt
have and I guess he took it out on you and
Stop, Sam says, a bit of steel backing his words. This isnt your fault. What dad does is his
own responsibility. You dont have to take the blame for everything.
But I
Sam grabs a granola bar, puts it back, and then sighs and picks it up again. I cant wait to get out
of here. He takes the unwanted granola bar and wanders upstairs, and once Dean hears the
shower running, he picks up the cutting board and hurls it against the wall. Dean feels a brief
moment of satisfaction as the wood clunks against the wall, but then he realizes he has to pick up
all the bits of onion, and then he sees the time on the clock, and hes going to be late if he doesnt
hurry up.
Fuck everything.
***
Dean gets to Cass late which means he doesnt have the full hour to cook. He throws together
some pesto sauce and some pasta, and its not a complicated dish, and it doesnt take much time,
but it will have to do. Deans tempted to burn it or mess it up in some way, but some part of him
must still have a shred of self-preservation, because he doesnt. He knows if he does something to
the food then Cas will never let him cook again, and thats not what Dean wants.
So instead, Dean lays out dinner, strips, puts on his collar and goes to the spare room. They
havent spent much time in here, but Dean knows its where Cas keeps his toys, and part of him
wants this to be done here, in this room, not Cass bedroom, and he doesnt want to think about
the meaning behind that.
Actually, he doesnt want to think at all. He kneels down on the ground and tries to calm his mind,
but he cant. Theres tension simmering under his skin, the need to claw and rip and shred, and his
fingers curl, nails pressing sharply into his forearms for a moment before he breathes out and lets
his hands drop to his sides.
He hears Cas come in; the turn of the door, the sound of his shoes on the floor, the sound of his
briefcase being dropped onto its chair. He hears the pause and then Cass footsteps as they trace
back towards the door, and Dean imagines that hes checking to see if Deans bag is here, if the
collar is in its place. And then the footsteps return to the table, and theres a scrape of a chair and a
clink of silverware, and Dean settles in to listen to the sounds of Cas eating.
His stomach sinks a little when he realizes that Cas isnt going to come looking for him, and he
pushes it away. It shouldnt surprise him. The mans had a long day at work, and hes hungry, and
he knows Dean is here somewhere because Deans bag is here and the collars gone. Besides, the
downtime is good. It gives Deans mind a chance to wander, plot out all the different things Cas
might do to him tonight. He knows Cas has a paddle and flogger, and they havent used either,
havent done anything besides open hand spanking but maybe tonight. Maybe Cas has something
sharper, something that has an edge to the pain, and Deans body tenses up at the thought.
He wants to hurt. Hes fucked things up majorly; with dad, with Sam, and Sam wont blame Dean
for whats clearly Deans fault, but Cas will. Cas will come in, and hell be disappointed, and
Dean will hate that, but then Cas will find something to hit him with and the pain will make
everything else go away.
It takes too short and too long for Cas to find his way into the spare room, and when he gets there,

he doesnt progress past the doorway. He stands there, framed by the wood and looks Dean over;
assessing, inquisitive, but theres no disappointment. Theres also no immediate comment, just the
slow drag of his gaze, and Dean fights to stay still, to stay quiet.
After what seems like forever, he gives up and says, I wasnt where I was supposed to be.
No, Cas agrees, and he studies Deans face like its a puzzle hes on the verge of figuring out.
Dean waits for the follow-up, for the barked order, for the flash of anger, for something, but it
doesnt come, and he gets impatient, again. Arent you going to punish me?
Cas lifts an eyebrow at that, and he presses his lips together before he says, No.
Its simple and dismissive, and Deans on his feet before hes fully away of what hes doing. Hes
two steps out from Cas, and hes not sure what hes planning on doing when he reaches the man,
but then Cas grabs him and spins him and shoves him against the wall, and Dean thinks finally.
Cas has one arm twisted up behind his back, and he uses it as leverage to keep Dean pinned
against the wall, and Dean shifts, putting pressure on his shoulder, and Cas immediately eases up
though he doesnt let Dean go.
When I let you go, youre going to go immediately to my bed and wait for me, Cas says, and his
voice is hard, unforgiving, and exactly what Dean wants.
Yes sir, Dean breathes, and hes disappointed that he doesnt get any more rough handling as a
reward. Instead, Cas steps away from him completely and Dean goes to Cass bed.
Cas comes in with the leather cuffs and their chains and Dean immediately flips onto his stomach,
and he has butterflies, because if Cas thinks he needs to restrain Dean then this is going to be
good.
No, Cas says, and Dean thinks the guy needs to get some more words in his vocabulary.
Especially of the yes variety. On your back.
Deans slower to comply with this order, because he doesnt like how vulnerable certain parts of
him are, and maybe he pushed Cas too far. Maybe this isnt going to be the brilliant idea he
thought it was.
Cas, unaware of or uncaring of Deans unease, gets to work securing him. He starts with Deans
wrists, cuffing them and securing them to the headboard. Next, he moves to Deans legs, putting a
cuff around each ankle and connecting the chains to the end of the bed. Dean doesnt have much
give in his bonds, and his legs are spread, leaving his cock and balls exposed to whatever the hell
Cas is going to use on him, and Dean fidgets, nervous.
But Cas doesnt pull any hidden paddles or whips or anything out of his pockets and he doesnt
go to the other room to retrieve anything. Instead, he climbs up on the bed and kneels between
Deans legs. Dean tenses, waiting for whats coming, searching Cass face for any kind of hint,
but he doesnt get one.
Cass palms press against the inside of Deans thighs, a gentle, reassuring pressure, and nothing
that Dean wants. And then Cas leans over, kisses Deans sternum. The anger comes back in a
flash, fueled by Deans uncertainty, by the thought that Cas might be playing with him, and he
growls low in his throat and tugs on his restraints.
Cas flicks his eyes up and shakes his head. You dont get it do you? One of his hands cups
Deans cheek, and Dean tries to turn away from the touch, but Cass other hand cups the other
cheek, a gentle cage. You only get what I want to give you. You dont get to make demands of

me.
Dean doesnt understand. He disobeyed; therefore, he needs to be punished, and punishment
means pain. He doesnt want to be coddled and kissed and petted. He pulls on his restraints again,
his hands curling into fists around the slats in the headboard as if hes strong enough to rip the
wood out of its place.
I want you to hurt me, he says, and it comes out more like a broken plea than a demand.
I know, Cas says, and his face softens, and his thumbs stroke across Deans cheeks, but youre
hurting enough right now. He traces the red circles around Deans eyes, and Dean cant pull
away so he closes his eyes so he cant see the way Cas looks at him. Cas drops a feather light kiss
on each eyelid before pulling back.
Youre done talking now, Cas says. Its not your place to make demands. Youre going to lie
here, and youre going to take what I give you. Do you understand?
Dean nods, eyes still closed, one last act of defiance, and its why he misses what Cas is doing
until the tie is in his mouth and being tied in a knot at the back of his head.
You can make as much noise as you want, Cas says, running a hand through Deans hair, but
Im not going to listen to it. If you want this to stop, snap your fingers. Understand?
Dean nods again, and he still doesnt understand what Cas is doing, why he wont just give Dean
what he wants. He knows hes being paid to be here, that this is about Cas and his needs, but
Dean thought there was supposed to be some kind of reciprocity involved. Apparently not.
Cas slides down until he has easy access to Deans right leg, and he runs his hands up and down
Deans skin, from ankle to knee as he kisses up Deans shin. He takes his time, ignoring the tight
line of tension that holds Dean still to the point of shaking, ignores the garbled curses and threats
Deans issuing from behind the gag. He simply touches Dean and kisses him, moving up to
Deans knee then to his thigh.
It isnt until Cas is halfway up Deans left leg that Dean realizes Cas isnt going to stop. He isnt
going to give in, isnt going to give Dean what he wants. Hes going to touch or kiss every inch of
Deans body, and theres nothing Dean can do about it. The fight flows out of him almost
instantly, and he sinks into the mattress, and Cas makes a small noise of approval as his fingers
skim the back of Deans knee.
Its like a floodgate has broken, and the anger and the edginess and the raw need all flows out, but
it needs a vehicle, a way to escape, and it isnt until Dean feels the hot tears on his cheeks that he
realizes hes crying. He tries to blink back the tears but it only makes them fall faster and with
them his sense of helplessness at his dads drinking, his sense of helplessness at Sam and dads
fractured relationship, his fear that Sams going to leave Dean because Dean cant leave dad on
his own.
The gag now holds back Deans sobs and his broken Im sorrys, and his body starts trembling
again, not with tension, but with the aftermath of trying to hold himself together. Cas soothes him
with touches and kisses, and words murmured against his skin, and Dean just lays there and cries
until there are no more tears left and until his body doesnt have the energy to even tremble
anymore.
Only then does Cas uncuff him, and he palms the skin protected by the cuffs and kisses that too so
all of Deans body has received the same treatment and then he grabs a couple tissues and wipes
the tears and snot from Deans face.

Its okay, Cas says as he undoes the tie, damp with tears and drool. He tosses it on the floor and
presses a brief, open mouthed kiss against Deans parted lips. Its okay.
Its not okay, Dean wants to say. Its so far from okay. Hes been reduced to a crying mess, and
Cas has had to take care of him, and its embarrassing, and Deans a bad sub and a bad employee.
Not to mention a bad son and a bad brother andno. Cas is leaving. Hes moving off the bed,
and Dean whimpers, because of course Cas is leaving ,why wouldnt he, but Dean doesnt want
him to.
Im getting you a drink, Cas says, his hand tracing soothing circles on Deans hand. Ill be
back. I promise.
Dean wants to protest, wants to beg that Cas stay, but he has no right to ask that so he sinks back
against the mattress and curls into a tight ball and lets the shadow of sleep draw him in. Everything
will seem better in the morning. It always does.
Hey, Cass voice chides sometime later. None of that now. A gentle hand rocks Deans
shoulder. You cant sleep yet. I need you to sit up and drink this for me.
Dont wanna, Dean mumbles. Hes warm and hes on the verge of sleep, but Cas shakes him
again, and a bit of cold slips into his cocoon, chasing out the warmth and suddenly Dean realizes
hes cold. Goosebumps breakout across his skin and he shivers, and if he can just curl a little bit
tighter hell be fine.
Stop, Cas says, his voice firm, no room for argument. Sit up and drink your orange juice and
then Ill get you under the covers.
Orange juice sounds good. So do blankets. Dean cracks his eyes open and he lets Cas help
maneuver him into a quasi-sitting position. Enough of one that Cas can bring the glass of orange
juice to Deans lips and tilt it up and Dean can drink without choking. He swallows when Cas
lowers the glass and then its raised again, Dean taking what hes given until the glass is empty.
Good, Cas says. He sets the glass down on the nightstand and strips the blankets off so he can
get Dean under them.
Good? Dean wants to laugh but its too much effort. Instead, he nuzzles close to Cas, lets the heat
of the other mans body pull him in. Think you have me confused with someone else.
Never, Cas promises, and he pulls the blanket over them.

Chapter 12
Chapter Notes

Warnings: discussion of canon character death

Dean feels like shit when he wakes up. His eyes are dry and they burn in their sockets, and his
throat is tight, raw, and theres a heaviness in his limbs that keeps him from even twitching when
Cass alarm goes off. He just groans and prays that the pounding in his head will either stop or go
up another level until his brain bursts out of his head.
It takes him a minute or two to remember last night, to figure out the source of his lethargy, and
once he does, he turns on his side, curling away from Cas. Hed cried like a baby last night. Cas
had touched him and Dean had cried, and fuck his life is a mess. Hes a mess.
Dont, Cas says, his hand warm on Deans shoulder, urging him to turn back over. Dont hide
yourself from me. Dean slowly rolls back over, and Cas prompts him to sit up. We need to
talk.
Shit. Dean pulls the blankets tight over his legs, covering himself up as much as he can without it
looking obvious. This is it. Dean screwed up last night. Screwed up major. Like, hes going to get
fired major. Shit. He shouldnt have provoked Cas. He shouldve kept his head down and just
been good, but he didnt.
What happened yesterday?
I was stupid. Im sorry. Honestly, I am, and Ill do anything to prove it. Ill be so good for you. I

Cas presses a finger to Deans lips, cutting off his pleas. Before you got here. What happened?
Oh. Oh. Dean cant talk about this. Its family and its personal, but Deans the one who dragged
his shit to Cass place. Hes the one who couldnt deal and completely lost it last night, and Cas
had to fucking hold him and coddle him like a child, and he deserves an explanation for that.
I was stupid, Dean repeats, because that seems to be a theme in his life. Theres a reason hes
not the one going to Stanford. I lost my temper, and I yelled at my dad, and then he went and
flipped out at Sam, and now Sams going to go off to school, and hes not going to come back,
and if I had just kept my damn mouth shut everything would be fine.
Sams not going to leave you, Cas says, and Dean wonders how he knew that was Deans
biggest fear, out of all the things hes confessed to, how Cas knew to zero in on that one. Not
after all youve done for him.
The brief hope in Deans eyes vanishes with Cass second statement. Like the way hes not
going to leave dad? Dean huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Sams better than us, and it
wont take him long to realize it and then hes going to want to cut the dead weight out of his life.
Youre not your father, and Sam isnt going to abandon you.

Yeah, Dean says even though hes not quite convinced. He wants this conversation to be over,
because then its shower time and then breakfast and then Deans off to the garage, and being
around Bobby will help to clear his head. Of course, todays also a day dads scheduled to work,
and Deans scared to go and find out whether or not hes going to show up.
Lets shower, Cas says like he can sense he doesnt have Deans full attention. Dean
immediately feels guilty, because after everything Cas is done for him, Deans treating him pretty
shitty.
As soon as theyre under the hot stream, Dean sinks to his knees, and Cas pulls Deans head away
from his body and shakes his head, but Dean looks up at his through his lashes asks, Please, in a
quiet, hesitant tone, because after last night the balance is fucked up, and Dean needs to do
something for Cas. He needs to apologize, and he needs to make things right, and hes not sure
where to start, but he figures this should work.
Cas hesitates and then he leans back against the wall and spreads his legs, and thats all the
invitation Dean needs.
***
It isnt until Deans at the garage, sitting down to his lunch break that he realizes he never had his
conversation with Cas. Hed gotten too caught up in his own shitty problems to remember what
the goal of the night had been. Tonight is probably too soon to try again, he needs to reassure Cas
that he can be good, that hes what Cas wants before upsetting everything again. Damn it.
Dean drops his sandwich on its wrapper and grabs two fistfuls of his hair and pulls. He wants to
scream or hit something or get hit, but he knows none of those are good options right now, and
hes trying to be good. Hes trying to get his life and everyone elses back on track and that means
being in control. That means taking a deep breath and settling so he can handle the next crisis that
pops up.
Bobby wanders into the break room, a slight frown on his face, and Dean sighs. No sign of
him?
Bobby shakes his head and he holds out a white scrap of paper. Hes not in his room and the
Impalas gone.
The paper simply says road trip scrawled in dads messy handwriting. If Dean wasnt so wrung
out from last night, hed probably be tempted to cry. Instead, he squares his shoulders, crumples
up the paper, and tosses it in the trash. Ill pick up his work. If I dont slack off then it wont be a
problem, and Ill call him as soon as I get off shift. Hell come home.
His phone went straight to voicemail. I dont think he wants to be found.
Dean doesnt care what dad wants. Hes supposed to be at work, helping to support the family,
helping to put enough money together so that Sam can go to college and so that he and dad can
get a decent apartment and stop mooching off Bobby. Hes supposed to be here being responsible,
sobering up, moving the fuck on with his life.
Dean takes a deep breath. Hes being too hard on dad again. Hes angry, and hes taking it out on
the people he cares about, and thats what got them in this mess in the first place. Dad has a lot of
issues to work through, and Dean has to be patient.
***
When Friday comes without dads return or even so much as a phone call, Dean bites the bullet

and calls him. He calls during his lunch break and hangs up as soon as he gets the voicemail,
pissed that his dad wont pick up the phone for him. He calls again that afternoon, while dinners
in the oven, and he actually leaves a message.
He tells his dad about what hes making for dinner, promises to make dads favorite (meatloaf
with crescent rolls) if he just calls and tells Dean when hes going to be back. He talks about how
Sam misses him and how Bobbys worried, and at the very end his voice cracks when hes saying
hes sorry, and he asks dad to just come home and then he hangs up.
***
Sunday, theres still no sign of dad, but Deans done putting his life on hold while he waits for
him to return. Dean drags Sam down to the arcade, and Sam wins the basketball shooting game,
but Dean kicks Sams ass at Galaga so no ones pride is too severely damaged. For lunch, they go
to Cookie Dough Creations, where you get a scoop of ice cream and a scoop of cookie dough and
a giant spoon, and its delicious, but they both feel way too full afterwards. Dean makes a chefs
salad for dinner, because even hes craving something healthy after the junk they ate all afternoon,
and then he packs up and heads for Cass.
He makes sure to get there early, because he wants to have this conversation sans collar and, just
in case this blows up in his face, he wants to give himself enough time to say just kidding and slip
his collar on without getting in trouble.
He strips down and then has second thoughts and pulls on his lounge pants, because there are a lot
of things he can do naked. Important conversations are not one of them. Cas is in the living room,
idly flipping through channels when Dean comes in, but his thumb pauses and his gaze turns
assessing, like if he stares long enough hell figure out whats going on.
Dean hovers by the edge of the couch, suddenly nervous and feeling like this is a terrible idea. He
should just suck it up. Everything is fine. Theres no need to rock the boat. He should just grin and
rub the back of his neck and go back and get himself ready.
Dean? Cas asks, uncertain.
We need to talk, Dean says, all in rush, and he breathes easier once its out there, because Cas
wont let Dean back out and run away. Cas is good at pushing when he needs to, and its obvious
that Dean needs to talk even if he desperately doesnt want to.
Would you like to sit?
Dean sits down, not on the far end of the couch, but not pressed right up against Cas either, and
Dean knows Cas notices, and he can see his brain turning, trying to fit this new piece into todays
puzzle.
I want to ask you something personal, Dean says, and he dares a look up at Cas. His expression
hasnt changed. You can ask anything in return, and I promise Ill answer. Dean holds his
breath, waiting, expecting Cas to say no, to throw him out, but to his surprise, resignation flashes
across Cass face, and he sinks into the couch and gives a little wave of his hand. Dean takes it as
a sign to go on. The checks. Why do you hand them to me yourself?
Cas tilts his head back to look at the ceiling, and Dean fidgets, increasingly nervous the longer the
silence stretches. Hes about to apologize, to tell Cas to forget it, when Cas finally speaks. My
family isnt ideal. I dont know what youve read in the magazines or heard on TV, but my
parents have never been part of the picture. Its always been Michael, my oldest brother who has
taken care of all of us.

Im sure you know that Lucifer broke off from the fold to start his own business, in defiance of
Michael, but he wasnt the only one to leave. My sister Anna was missing one day; no note, no
goodbye, no hint of where shed gone. Shed simply disappeared. And then Ganother one of
my brothers left, and Michael was displeased with the constant defiance of his authority. If
possible, he got worse. Everything he said we had to do, everything we did was monitored by
him. I applied to the schools he told me to, signed up for the classes he wanted me to take, I was
on track to being exactly what he wanted. And I was miserable.
Cas shifts, and hes staring out at a place beyond Deans shoulder. I had plans to run away, it had
worked for three of my siblings, and I wanted freedom. I wanted to choose what to do with my
life. And then Anna came home. Michael had a party for the return of the prodigal daughter,
instructed us to call her Anael now instead of Anna, and she never talked about what she did in
the time she was away and she never talked about how Michael found her or convinced her to
come home. When I asked, she just smiled and told me to be grateful for what I had.
I stopped thinking about having a life of my own, because it was clear there was no escape. I put
my head down and worked, but I was miserable, and I didnt realize it at the time but Michael had
noticed. And two months into the internship that would lead to me becoming CEO, I met a young
man named Samandriel.
A pained smile flits across Cass face at the name, and Deans chest tightens, because theres
fondness there, and theres a deep sadness, and Dean doesnt like either of them, and he feels
guilty for drudging up these memories.
I had been experimenting with being a dom by then, and we didnt fall into that kind of
relationship right away, but the way Samandriel held himself, the way he was always looking to
me for approval, the way Cas cuts himself off and shakes his head, the signs were all there,
and the hope that one day we could have something, something long term and fulfilling, it kept
things from looking too bleak. And then we began to scene together, and it was everything I
wanted it to be.
Dean feels a stab of jealously at the confession, and its stupid and irrational, and he immediately
feels guilty, because there is clearly a set up to something to the Traumatic Thing that makes Cas
feel the need to pay Dean personally.
Anyways, Cas pulls himself out of another memory, As it turns out, Michael was paying him.
Michael correctly figured out what I wanted and knew that if I had it, I would be happy and
therefore less likely to rebel against his plans. I stopped seeing Samandriel, I have continued to
work for Michael even though our relationship has been strained, and I have not dommed for
anyone for an extended amount of time until now.
Cas finally turns to look at Dean, his eyes sharp, all of him clearly in the present now. I hand you
the check so I remember that youre getting paid for this.
It makes sense now that Dean has the whole back story, and he cant imagine what it would be
like to think you were in a committed relationship with someone only to find that their feelings
didnt match yours at all. That while you were falling in love, they were only spending time with
you to get a paycheck signed.
But why that question? Cas asks, as if he can sense that Deans thoughts are trailing towards
pity. You didnt ask about my past relationships, you asked about the payment method.
Dean pauses, considers, but theyre being honest here, and that means no hedging, no lying, no
deflecting. It means truth. It bothers me. IWhat you want from me, I cant do if youre handing
me a check once a month. It messes with my head. Badly. Enough that my familys started to

notice. And I figured there was a reason behind why you did it, and I wanted to know if it was
something we could work with or around, and I think we can. Dean hesitates again, this time for
permission, before he remembers that hes not wearing his collar right now. Theyre having a
discussion; two equals, with no punishment on the line if he oversteps his bounds. You need the
reminder that youre paying me for my services, but you dont have to give the check to me
personally. You can give it to Gabriel, and he can handle the deposit and everything, that way you
can still write out the check and do whatever it is you need to do to stay good, and I wont feel
like shit once a month.
Dean holds his breath, waiting for Cass answer, and its a relief when Cas finally nods. I believe
that will work. Then he tilts his head to the side, eyes Dean curiously. What do you think I want
from you?
Is that your question? Dean asks, and he prays the answer is no, because in the light of the
Samandriel story, he doesnt think now is a good time to bring up the fact that hes pretty much
Cass live in boyfriend.
Cass lips quirk like he wants to smile at the obvious deflection, and he shakes his head. No. I
want you to tell me about your mother.
Deans got the beginning of the story on the tip of his tongue, how hed been careless one night
and thats how he ended up running into Alastair, and then he realizes that that hadnt been Cass
question. He wanted to know about mom.
The words die in Deans mouth, and no new ones rise to take their place, because Dean hadnt
been ready for this. Alastair? Well, he hadnt been ready to talk about that but hed been prepared.
This had come completely out of the blue, and he just sits, slack-jawed as he tries to wrap his mind
around it.
Eventually, he closes his mouth, and he runs a hand through his hair and looks away and then he
looks back. Uh, Im not blowing you off. I just need a minute to process. That okay? Under any
other circumstance, Dean wouldve made a joke, but he doesnt joke about mom. Cas nods and
leans back into the sofa to wait.
She, uh, Dean clears his throat. Start small. Little things. Facts. What does Cas even want to
know? How do you describe a whole person? You dont. Its impossible. Why?
You talk about your father and your brother often, but Ive never heard you mention your
mother. Im curious.
Right. Well, thats a good place to start. Why he doesnt talk about her. Shes dead, Dean says,
and it comes out more blunt than he intended, but hes not sure how to soften something like that.
Its been almost twenty years since she died, and Dean still feels the grief stab at his chest when he
thinks of it. When I was four. There was a fire. I was sleeping when I heard dad screaming, and I
ran to Sammys room, but dad was waiting for me in the doorway, and he handed me Sammy and
told me to get him outside. He was only six months old then. By the time I got outside the fire
trucks had started to show up, and I sat with one of the firemen, and I clung to Sammy and waited
for mom and dad to come out of the fire.
Dean blows out a slow breath and wills the tears away, because hes not going to cry over this. It
took two firemen to drag dad out of the house, and they barely made it before the flames exploded
out the window. I knew what it meant, but I didnt believe it. Not even when we had to move into
the motel for a month while dad got everything sorted out. It wasnt until dad packed everything
into the back of the Impala and told me we were leaving Lawrence and never coming back that I
realized she was gone. He wouldnt have left her otherwise.

Dean wrings his hands, squeezing his fingers until they turn white. We moved constantly for
years after that, chasing the trail of the arsonist, only staying in one place long enough to save up
enough money to go to the next last known location. We got close a few times, he set a couple
more fires, but we never actually caught up to him. He was finally caught by the police, and thats
how we ended up settled here.
Deans never told anyone this story, and hes surprised at how easily its coming now. He should
stop, because hes done talking about his mom, but the words dont stop rising up so he doesnt.
The guys name was Azazel. He was a complete nut. He thought he was an agent of Lucifer and
that it was his duty to find a suitable vessel for Lucifer to possess when he rose out of hell to jump
start the apocalypse. He set a couple nurseries on fire, because he thought the baby that emerged
from the flames unscathed would be worthy of housing the devil. Dean shakes his head. He still
cant believe the guy actually believed that.
He remembers going to the trial, listening to him defend his actions as those of a faithful servant, a
man with an unholy mission, but more than that, Dean remembers Sams face. He remembers the
moment Sam decided that this was all his fault. If he had been born on a different day then the
man never wouldve come after them, mom never wouldve died. Dean remembers holding Sam
that night while he cried himself to sleep, and he remembers their final trip to Lawrence. Theyd
gone to moms grave, finally put flowers down next to the tombstone and then dad dropped them
off at Bobbys and they didnt see him for two months.
Dean comes out of the memories, and returns to the sharp white walls of Cass living room, to the
cool leather of the sofa, and he looks around, nervous, because he doesnt know where they go
from here. Theyve crossed another line tonight, something they seem to be doing more and more
lately, and this isnt one they can jump back from. Significant ex-boyfriends and murdered
mothers arent a topic for light conversation, and Dean feels uneasy, exposed, especially as the
silence continues to stretch.
He flits his eyes up to Cas. Cas is still staring at Dean, contemplative, like hes turning over
everything Deans said, and that just makes it worse. If Cas had asked about Alastair then Dean
couldve told himself it was because he wanted to know about Deans sexual history, about his
dislikes and his triggers so Cas could avoid them. But Cas asked about Deans mom and thats
personal in a different way. In a deeper way. In a way that they shouldnt have between them.
Can I, Deans voice is hoarse so he clears his throat and tries again. Can I go put my collar
on? He wants the familiar press of leather, he wants the security of where they stand in relation to
each other. He wants out of this moment and into something else.
You may, Cas says, his voice soft, and Dean knows he isnt the only one whos been affected
by their talk.

Chapter 13
Chapter Notes

To make up for the last chapter, have an entire chapter of porn.

Dean is the only one who continues to be worried about dads disappearance. He takes off like
this often enough that after a few days Sam just shrugs and goes back to life as usual, and Bobbys
been waiting for him to slip so hes not too surprised either. But Dean knows this wasnt a random
relapse. Dean had pushed him too hard which means anything happens is his fault.
Working extra at the garage helps distract him and so does being at Cass. Dean doesnt know if
Cas is trying to distract himself from their little breakthrough Sunday night or if he senses that
Dean needs to be taken out of his mind, away from his thoughts, but Dean doesnt think beyond
the physical the whole week. Its exhilarating, its exhausting, and its exactly what Dean needs.
So when Friday night comes, and theres a note waiting for him, Dean almost feels guilty at the
thrill of desire that rushes through him, and hes certain that Cas is spoiling him. He strips with
eager anticipation, and then carefully opens the note, because he doesnt want to rip it or even
wrinkle it.
Go to the bedroom. Wait patiently on the bed for me.
Dean folds the paper back up, and he wants to sprint to the bedroom, but that doesnt demonstrate
a whole lot of patience so he reduces himself to a slow walk until hes out of sight of the kitchen
table, and he sprints the last few steps into the bedroom. Hes brought up short in the doorway,
because the cuffs are out.
Usually Cas likes to surprise Dean with whats in store for the night, but obviously thats not the
case right now, and Dean takes cautious steps towards the bed, because he has no idea how hes
supposed to be patient now. Cas first brought the restraints out a week after Deans awkward
drunken confession that he likes how Cas pays attention to him, and Cas had secured Deans
wrists and ankles to the bed and then spent an hour making Dean the center of his attention; taking
Dean apart, worshipping his body, saying all these things that Dean knows are bullshit but hit all
his buttons anyways.
His fingers skim over the leather padding and then he pulls back and looks around, guilty. Cas
isnt in the doorway judging him, but Dean doesnt risk another touch. He climbs to the center of
the bed and kneels and lets his mind wander with tonights possibilities. Maybe Cas will pull out
the blindfold tonight. Theyve done some experimenting with it, and theyve done some
experimenting with the cuffs, but never together, and usually thats a thing Dean stays away from.
He doesnt like being blind and tied down, it spikes his fight-or-flight instinct, and he cant get
himself calm enough to be in the right headspace, but he thinks with Cas hed be able to.
Sometimes it scares him how easy this all seems, how natural, and hes not the kind of person that
believes in One True Love, and he certainly doesnt believe in good luck coming his way, but he
does believe that hes going to be ruined for any other relationship after this which is pathetic,
because this isnt actually a relationship. But what Deans feeling now, hes never felt it before,
maybe a spark or two here and a flicker there, but this is entirely new and entirely welcome, and
he cant imagine being lucky enough to find it again.

he cant imagine being lucky enough to find it again.

He smoothes his hands over the covers and directs his thoughts somewhere less depressing.
Cas comes into the room earlier than Dean expects, especially given the note, but hes certainly
grateful. Patience has never been one of his virtues, especially not when hes tempted with
something he desperately wants, and he definitely wants to be trussed up for Cas.
Cass hand cups Deans chin, and Dean leans into the touch. You always look so happy to see
me, Cas says, a hint of wonder in his voice. He hesitantly pulls his hand from Deans face and
taps his chest, and Dean obediently goes to his back, stretching out across the bed. Dean lets Cas
position his limbs where he wants them before he straps them in, content to simply watch and not
offer any help besides relaxing completely so Cas can move him about as he wishes.
Once Dean is secure, Cas strokes the side of his face, his knuckles skimming across Deans skin,
and he wants to press into the touch, but he knows Cas will only pull away quicker, and Dean
doesnt want that. He wants the touches to linger, and it frightens him sometimes the intensity with
which he wants Cas to simply touch him. Cas turns his hand and drags the pad of his index finger
across Deans bottom lip, and it sends little fissures of want through Deans body.
Not today, Cas says, and Dean doesnt realize what hes talking about at first, but Deans lips
have parted on their own accord, an invitation for Cas to slip his finger inside or even to slide up
and straddle Deans face, and Dean groans with the loss of something he didnt even know he
wanted until itd been taken away from him.
Tomorrow morning, Cas promises. In the shower. His finger traces the outline of Deans lips,
pressing the soft flesh until it flushes red. Tomorrow morning is a long time to wait, and Dean has
a feeling that shower blow jobs are going to lead to him getting his hair partially conditioned. He
likes to gripe and moan about it, but in reality he likes to run his hand through the silky strands or
check it out in the mirror and have the reminder of Cas. If he turns his head too quickly he catches
a whiff of the conditioners scent, a passing glance in a car window shows his hair with a bit more
shine than usual, and theyre all little reminders of Cas, of what happened that morning and what
Dean has waiting for him as soon as he gets off his shift.
He used to be good about separating work from home and his work persona from his regular
persona, but all of that has disappeared. He doesnt feel like he needs to shed his skin when he
leaves Cass apartment and become himself again.
Youre thinking too much, Cas says, and his breath ghosts over Deans neck, and Deans mind
has definitely been wandering if he missed Cas moving. Because he has. Cas is now straddling
Deans waist, and hes bent over, teeth scraping gently at the skin stretched taut across his
collarbone.
Thinking about you, Dean says.
Mm. Cas hums against Deans skin, and it stirs the arousal thats always close to the surface
whenever Cas is around. But Im right here. No thinking, no fantasizing. Just feel. Cas plants
his hands on either side of Deans torso and rises up on his hands and knees so the only point of
contact between them is Cass lips and the mark theyre sucking into Deans skin.
Its unfair that Cas tells him to feel and then stops touching him, but as Cass mouth travels down,
Dean realizes exactly what hes done. One point of contact means only one place to focus on.
Theres no hand pressed against his side, no warmth from Cas wedging a thigh between his.
Theres only Cass tongue running over Deans nipple, teasing it into a hardened point. All of
Cass attention, and all of Deans is right there.

Cas licks and laves at the right nipple before shifting over to the left, and Deans limbs start to
tremble with the need to move. His legs want to wrap around Cass waist and pull him in, his arms
watch to clutch Cass shoulders or tug his head up, because Dean wants a kiss. He wants Cass
attention somewhere, anywhere else, because Cass tongue is relentless, but teasing, and its
driving Dean to the edge of enough and then backing off before he gets there, and Dean needs
more. He needs harder, sharper, something, anything.
Dean looks down Cass body, and wishes the man would spend more time naked, because Dean
has a perfect view of his back, and he wants to the see the subtle rippling muscles as Cas moves
and shifts in tiny increments, but instead theres an immaculate dress shirt with faint pink stripes
running through it. And his ass is hidden from Deans hungry gaze by black slacks that pull tight
and present a very satisfying picture, but Dean wants skin. He wants to drink Cas in the way Cas
does to him.
Dean spends too much time staring at Cass ass which is why he notices the small rolls of Cass
hips, like hes imaging fucking Dean while he does this, and Dean tries to clench his legs together
at that thought, but his restraints pull him up short, and he groans, because his dick is hard, but he
cant touch it, and Cas isnt touching it, and Cas cant simulate fucking into Dean without putting
ideas in Deans head.
Please? Dean asks even though its a long shot. Sometimes Cas ties him up like this and drives
him to the edge because he wants to hear him beg for it, because he wants Dean pliant and easy
and desperate before he drives into him. Sometimes, Cas wants to hear all those things but he
doesnt plan on doing anything about it. And sometimes, Cas likes to tie a strip of cloth around
Deans mouth so Dean can make all the noise he wants and know that it wont matter.
Please what? Cas asks, idle, curious, like hes not filling Deans head with the filthiest images
he can imagine. Dean bucks his hips, a small, aborted movement.
Want you in me.
Cas lifts his head, a single eyebrow raised, and Deans stomach sinks, because thats not a giving
in face. Thats a mildly annoyed and definitely mischievous face which doesnt bode well for
Dean. Thought I told you not to think. Cas lets that reminder sit heavy between them before his
smiles, all teeth. Guess I need to work a little harder to keep your attention.
Yep, definitely doesnt bode well.
Im good, Dean says. Definitely good. Defoh! His protests turn into a moan as Cass teeth
latch around a hardened nipple, and he doesnt bite hard, but it sends pulses of pleasure through
Deans skin. They ripple through his body, make him want more, and Cass eyes flick up, and he
grins before adding a touch more pressure, and Deans fingers and toes curl, and he arches his
spine as much as he can, because he needs more.
Cass teeth dont lighten up, they continue to bite down, and Dean wishes his legs were free,
because he needs to thrash and twist and just move, because its too much. His cock is throbbing,
on the very edge of release, but its not quite enough to tip over, and hes panting and possibly
begging possibly just making unintelligible sounds.
Cas pulls off with an positively wicked smile, and he smirks as Dean drags in desperate lungfuls
of air. Paying attention now?
Dean nods, because Cas has definitely got all his attention now, and then Cas dips his head back
down, mouthing at the flesh hes just abused, and Deans too sensitive from the biting, and its like
a feather dragging over his skin; he wants to wriggle away, because its the lightest of touches but

its overwhelming, and Deans hands twist their cuffs, and he manages to get his fingers around
the chains, and he squeezes and pulls, but Cas doesnt let up, and Dean feels like hes going to be
driven out of his skull.
Paying attention, Dean wheezes, his entire body taut with tension. Please. Im paying attention.
I swear. You can stop. You canugh! Cass teeth take up their teasing again, and tears squeeze
out of Deans eyes, because he has no other way to express the intensity of what hes feeling.
Stop? Cas asks, and his eyes flit up, and his breath ghosts over Deans skin, not giving him a
moment of reprieve. Oh, Dean, his voice is full of false sympathy as his gaze slides over to
Deans other nipple. Im not even halfway done. And tonight, youre going to scream for me.
***
Saturday, Dean wakes up with a scratchy throat, and he throws a half-hearted glare at Cass
sleeping form, because he knows that his voice is going to be going in and out on him all day. He
considers poking Cas awake in retribution, but Cas is grumpy in the mornings when he doesnt
wake up on his own, and Deans afraid of what he might come up with as punishment.
Besides, Dean isnt really angry. He definitely enjoyed last night in the way where he was
balanced precariously on loving it and going out of his mind, and Cas came really close to
crossing that line, but he never did, and Deans body is pleasantly sore as a result. All the straining
in the cuffs, all the tension has made him tight, and he stretches across his half of the bed, almost
groaning as his muscles are forced into moving. Hes definitely going to vote for a long hot
shower this morning. Maybe hell even be able to convince Cas to let him take a bath.
Dean smiles at the thought of slipping into a tub of warm water, and he stretches his arms up over
his head, listening to the pop and grind of his muscles and he arches up, like a cat, and then the
sheet grazes his nipples, still sensitive from last night, and he gasps and falls back against the bed.
Its pain edged with a sliver of pleasure, and it zings through him, making his breath come in short
gasps, and hes grateful that Cas chose a Friday night to do this, because if Dean had to put on a
shirt and go to workhe doesnt want to think about the kind of hell that would be. Or the
inappropriate boners hed be popping.
What a lovely way to wake up, Cas murmurs sleepily and Dean turns to see Cas on his side,
watching him, want already burning in his eyes. Dean has no idea how long Cas has been
watching, but definitely long enough to catch Deans reaction, and his eyes are drawn to Deans
abused purple-red nipples. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, rolls it between them,
considering, and Dean shakes his head.
No way, Dean rasps.
Cas nods, a disappointed sigh falling from his lips. Too soon, I know. Besides, I promised to let
you blow me in the shower this morning. Turn the water on and get it to the temperature you
want. Im going to order breakfast.
The water is hot and soon theres steam swirling around the room, and Dean drinks it in, because
it soothes his throat, and he steps under the spray and lets the water beat down on his back.
Instantly, his muscles release some of the tension theyve been clinging to and Dean groans and
rotates his shoulders and tries to get the rest of it out.
Cas joins him and they linger in the shower until Deans feeling loose and sleepy, and maybe this
will be one of those days where they stumble out, eat breakfast, and then climb back into bed for a
nap. That hope is quick shot down. They get out of the shower, Cas towels him off, gentler than
Dean had expected, and he lets his guard down, relaxes into Cass touch, and it means hes caught

completely off guard when Cas gives him a little nudge into the bedroom.
Its a little cold in the apartment this morning, dont you think?
Deans not sure the thermostat has been adjusted once since he started coming here, and hes
about to give Cas a weird look when he spots the t-shirt lying innocently on the bed. Oh, no, Dean
thinks, but Cas gives him another nudge which means yes. Damn it. Dean drags his feet on the
way to the bed, and he picks the shirt up by the hem. Its light in his hands, once of those special
running shirts, and the fabric slides through his fingers, and Dean suddenly envisions a very long
day ahead of him.
He slides his arms through the sleeves and tugs the shirt over his head, and his eyes flutter shut at
the first brush of fabric against his hypersensitive skin, and he cant help but feel a wave of
resentment as Cas easily pulls on a pair of sweatpants a t-shirt, and he doesnt twitch or have to
curl his shoulders forward to keep the fabric from resting against his chest.
Breakfast? Cas asks. I got your favorite. Hes smiling like he knows exactly what direction
Deans thoughts have gone in, and Dean follows him into the kitchen, and the shirt drifts back and
forth with each step, and Dean bites his bottom lip to keep from saying anything as the fabric rubs
against him.
Dean kneels at Cass side, and he hunches over, and he has a moment to breathe in the sweet
relief of nothing touching his skin before Cas tsks. Is that how you were taught to kneel?
Dean keeps his eyes on the ground so Cas cant see the initial defiance flash through him, and he
sits up straighter, shoulders back, and it makes the shirt pull tight across his chest, and he draws in
a shocked breath.
Dean starts his breakfast off with a glass of orange juice, and hes not sure if theyre still making
up for the loss of electrolytes from last night or if Cas has big plans for today too, and his cock
gives in interested twitch even though right now hes more on the pain side of the pain-pleasure
scale.
He keeps his posture throughout breakfast, and the shirt doesnt loosen, doesnt pull any less, and
theres a steady pressure on his nipples, and he can feel his pulse pound under his skin, and his
desire picks up the same beat, and he has a difficult time focusing on breakfast. By the time
theyve moved onto the breakfast potatoes, Deans pulling shallow breaths in through his mouth,
and Cass hand lingers on his jaw after each bite.
You doing okay? Cas asks, and he brushes a stray tear aside, and Dean suddenly realizes that
the world is blurry, but he nods, because he trusts Cas not to take this farther than Dean can
handle. He can finish breakfast, Cas wouldnt have asked him to if he didnt think Dean could.
A few more bites, Dean doesnt even taste the potatoes today, just chews and swallows, because
he knows the importance of eating, and then Cas is clearing the table and directing Dean to the
couch. Dean wonders if its reading time as he spreads out on the couch, head propped up on the
armrest so he can track Cass movements and watch him has he comes back into the room. Deans
positive he wont be able to concentrate on anything as long as he keeps this stupid shirt on. Every
time he breathes too deeply, every time his body twitches, it feels like his entire body is being lit
up, pain and pleasure reverberating through him until hes not sure what hes feeling.
No, stretch out, Cas says, because Dean starts to pull in on himself as soon as Cas heads over,
wanting to make space for him. Dean hesitantly reaches his legs back out to the end of the couch
and Cas smiles and drops between them, dropping one to the floor and hoisting the other up on his
shoulder.

Uh, Dean says intelligently.

I wasnt sure you were going to put the shirt on this morning, Cas says. Wouldnt have blamed
you if you didnt. His fingers skim down Deans thighs, and Deans afraid this is going to be a
lead in to another teasing session, but one of Cass hands circles Deans cock, and he gives it a
few slow strokes. You do everything I ask, and then you ask to give me more. Cas shakes his
head like he cant believe it even though he has the evidence before him right now. You are
incredible, and I feel like I could tell you that every day and mean it every time.
Dean feels a stupid grin crossing his face, and he could get off from the praise and Cass hand
alone, but then Cas locks eyes with Dean and lowers his head, and he doesnt break eye contact
even as he takes the tip of Deans cock in his mouth, and Dean groans, and his eyes flutter, but he
keeps them open, because he doesnt want to miss a moment of this.
Cass mouth slides down, slower than Dean wants, and if the smirk crinkling the corners of Cass
eyes is anything to go by, he knows it. When he pulls back up, he flicks his tongue against the
head as a reward, and then he sinks back down, and he starts a relentless pace, and it has Dean
trembling in no time at all. He locks his left hand around his right wrist to keep from grabbing
Cass hair or his shoulders, and Dean fights to keep still, because every writhe, every wriggle has
the shirt moving and then Cas presses his lips tight and sucks. Dean cant help it, he arches his
back and he cries out, and his chest stops being pain and it stops being pleasure, its just sensation,
pushing him higher and higher, overwhelming him, and his orgasm sweeps through him, before
he can get enough breath to warn Cas, and he collapses against the couch as Cas swallows.
Dean groans, and Cas pulls back with a pleased smile. He slips his hand under Deans shirt and
pulls it up, and Dean gratefully lifts his shoulders off the couch long enough for Cas to pull it over
his head. He drops it to the floor, and Dean gives it a glare for good measure, but hes distracted
from the article of clothing when Cas bends down to kiss him.
Not the morning Dean had in mind, but definitely a good one.

Chapter 14
Chapter Notes

John returns. I figure that's about all the warning this chapter needs.

Deans in a good mood on his way back from Cass, and he stops at the grocery store and picks
up the works for ice cream sundaes, and when he gets to Bobbys he drops the bag on Sams
bookswhat self-respecting senior does homework on a Saturday night?and ignores Sam as he
dives in to rescue his copy of Hamlet.
Its Shakespeare! he cries, scandalized.
And Ive got ice cream, Dean says, and he starts pulling things out of the bags; three different
flavors of ice cream, chocolate sauce, peanut butter sauce, marshmallow sauce, candy toppings,
sprinkles, whipped cream. Which is more interesting? Finally, Dean pulls out a roll of chocolate
chip cookie dough and that finally gets Sam on board with the plan, and he grabs the carton of
vanilla ice cream.
You would go for the vanilla, Dean says.
Sam sticks his tongue out. Its so I can load it up with toppings.
Dean holds up the chocolate peanut butter swirl. You can load this up too. More chocolate, more
peanut butter, and a shit ton of whipped cream. Cant get better than that.
They fill their bowls up with their ice cream creations and head into the living room to watch TV
and stuff their faces. Its the perfect ending to a very good day, and Deans about halfway through
his peanut butter chocolate deliciousness when his phone buzzes in his pocket.
The hell? he mutters, reaching into his jeans to dig it out, because Sams here with him, and Cas
doesnt randomly call him, and he doesnt recognize the number on the screen, but he answers the
call anyways. Dean Winchester.
My name is Officer Silverman, and Im calling from the Yankton PD.
Deans spoon drops into his bowl, and he listens as the man explains that Deans the contact for
John Winchester, and that dad is in prison of all places, because he got arrested for drunk driving,
and he needs someone to come and put up bail for him. Dean nods and makes affirmative noises
and listens to directions, and his free hand curls into a tight fist, because he cannot believe this is
happening. Dads license has been suspended so Dean needs to bail dad out and bring the Impala
home, and there went his relaxing night with Sam.
Deans polite as he says goodbye, but he has to hold back his urge to chuck his phone against the
wall as soon as the officer hangs up. He settles for punching his leg. Fucking hell!
Sams eyes are wide, fear and concern battling for control of his face. They need you at work?
If only. Dean shakes his head and climbs to his feet. I need to find Bobby and see if he can give
me a ride to Yankton.

Yankton? Sam pulls a face. What for?

Dont worry about. Enjoy the rest of your night and dont stay up too late. Its about an hour
and a half drive each way which means itll be past eleven by the time Dean gets back, and he
hopes Sam will be sleeping so he wont have to deal with all this shit until the morning.
Dean, Sam starts but Dean just shakes his head, and Sam sinks down into the couch.
No ones hurt, Dean promises, and Ill tell you all about it tomorrow. I just need to go take care
of some shit, okay?
Sam nods, and he looks a little less pissed, and Dean tosses him the remote and heads out to find
Bobby.
***
Bobby refuses to let Dean behind the wheel of his beat up Ford, and Dean would argue, but his
hand is stinging from punching one of the support beams for the porch, and he doesnt have much
ground to stand on for being calm and collected enough to drive a vehicle. They dont say much
during the drive, and Dean swings from being pissed at his dad to blaming himself to being pissed
at his dad again at least five times before they reach the police station.
In the parking lot, Dean thanks Bobby for the ride and convinces him that he can handle it from
here before going in where he signs over for the keys to the Impala, and puts up bail for his dad
and then hes led back to the cell where theyre keeping him.
John Winchester, Officer Silverman says, and Dean meets his dads eyes when he looks up and
doesnt say anything.
Dad looks like shit. Hes got a few days old beard going, and it looks scruffy and unkempt, and
his hair looks grayer than Dean remembers it being There are deep dark circles under his eyes, and
Deans not sure if this all is a result of being in jail or being hung over or if hes been a complete
wreck these past two weeks. It makes the guilt twinge in Deans stomach again, but Dean pushes
it aside.
Come on, Dean says. Theyre going to drive us to where theyre keeping the car and then
were going home.
Its a silent drive to where the cars are kept, and Dean thanks Officer Silverman for his help, and
he runs his hand over the Impala, checking for any damage.
Guess shes yours now, John says, and Deans eyes snap up to his, because now is not the time.
John nods, and sighs. I really screwed up this time, didnt I?
Its not really a question, and Dean doesnt say anything. He lets the silence swallow up all the air
in the car, and its stifling and uncomfortable, and Dean wants to be anywhere but on 81 with his
dad right now. Dad doesnt try to say anything else, and twenty minutes into the drive, Dean turns
the radio on, but not even Zeppelin can lift his foul mood.
***
Son, John starts as theyre heading into Bobbys.
Dean shakes his head, and hes suddenly exhausted, and its almost too much effort to hold his
head up let alone talk and think and move. Well talk about it in the morning. I need to sleep.

Right. John shoves his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunch, and Dean should put a
hand on his shoulder, tell him its going to be okay, do something, but he doesnt. Hes pissed and
feeling a little vindictive so he goes straight upstairs. He knocks lightly on Bobbys door to let him
know that theyre made it back safely and then he goes into Sams room, and he shouldnt be
surprised that Sam is awake and waiting for him. He is anyways.
Sam puts his book down the moment the door opens, and he crosses his arms over his chest and
arches his eyebrows expectantly. Dean shuts the door and shucks off his shoes and collapses
down on the inflatable mattress they keep on the floor for him. He only delays the conversation for
a minute at the most, and he wishes he could run away from this, but he doesnt have anywhere to
go.
Dads home, Dean says, and he pulls his comforter over his head like that will keep Sam from
asking more questions, and he belatedly realizes that hes still in his jeans and his jacket, but hes
tired, and its too much effort to even strip down to his boxers let alone put on pajamas.
Yeah? Sam asks, going for casual, but his voice is edged with suspicion, with anger, with the
warning that hes about to go off, and Dean doesnt want to have this fight right now. Its going to
lead to Sam shouting and Deans head pounding, and somewhere along the line, Deans going to
have to stand up for dad and admit that its all Deans fault that dad stormed off; Dean who
pushed his father into this latest round of drinking, and he cant deal with this. He wants to sleep
and tackle it in the morning.
Yeah, Dean says, and theres a finality to the word that Sam thankfully accepts. He huffs but he
doesnt ask any more questions, and Deans free to drift into a fitful sleep.
***
Dean is up at seven and his head is too full and his back aches too much to sleep anymore so he
takes a long shower and then goes downstairs to cook everything he can get his hands on. He
doesnt want to think which means keeping busy, and by the time Bobby wanders downstairs for
his coffee, Dean has two dinners done, and hes in the process of three more. Theres chicken in
the oven, and rice on one burner and mashed potatoes on another, and then theres gravy on the
third and green beans on the fourth. Right now hes cubing potatoes so once the chickens done
he can make some roasted potato squares.
After this, hes going to make a full breakfast complete with breakfast potatoes and as much bacon
and sausage as he can get his hands on.
Damn it, Bobby says, his voice raspy with sleep, as he surveys his kitchen. That bad?
He was charged with drunk driving, Dean says, and hes tempted to take the cubed potatoes and
mash the hell out of them, but he already has enough mashed potatoes for two meals so he
doesnt. His license is suspended. Hes given the car to me. Sams pissed and he doesnt even
know what happened yet, and I dont know what the hell Im supposed to do.
The enormity of everything is threatening to rise up and consume Dean so he turns back to the
saucepans. This should take care of dinner for most of the week. And were going to need
potatoes the next time you go to the store. Were running low.
Bobby, to his credit, keeps his expression to one of mild horror as he eyes the near empty bag of
potatoes that had been full last night. I can see that. Well, Im not going to be any help until Ive
got a bit of coffee in me.
Help with what? Dean asks, because maybe if he just ignores this shit storm it will go away. Or

at least not hit him when it whips through. I made mess in the kitchen, Ill clean it up.
Bobby looks at Dean like hes trying to figure out if hes being serious and then he shakes his
head and pulls down the biggest mug he has. Im going to need a whole pot this morning, arent
I?
***
Sam wanders down somewhere between dinner clean-up and the start of breakfast, and before he
can say anything or ask questions, Dean plops the first of the pancakes down on his plate. Eat,
Dean says, and Sam obediently picks up his fork.
Dean whistles as he flips the bacon and pokes the sausage, because he cant handle the silence,
and he wants to discourage Sam from talking. It doesnt erase the heavy tension in the room, and
Deans shoulders dont relax, and Dean can sense Sams impatience to know what is going on
simmering right below the forced tranquility of breakfast.
We could go to the park today, Dean says as he sits down with his plate of pancakes and bacon
and sausage and potatoes. Bring a Frisbee, toss it around. You could probably steal someones
dog to play with for an hour or two.
Sam raises his eyebrows, like he wants to know if Deans actually going to ignore the behemoth
of an elephant in the room.
Its Sunday, Dean says. Its the day we hang out and you forget about school, and I forget
about work. Were going to have fun. If you dont want to go to the park then we can find
something else.
The park is fine, Sam says and he ducks his head and takes a long drink of his orange juice.
***
Sams smile is a little forced during their time at the park, but Dean ignores it, because its a nice
day outside if a bit cold, and this keeps Sam and dad apart for at least a little bit longer, and Deans
probably doing more harm than good by keeping them apart, because theres going to be an
absolutely catastrophic explosion then they finally face each other, but Deans a coward and he
doesnt want to be there when it happens.
Still, when they finally get back from the park with pink cheeks and frozen ears, Dean puts dinner
in to heat up and goes up to dads room to see if he wants to eat with them. The door is cracked
open, and Dean gives it a small nudge, but he pauses when he hears dads voice.
I cant come back right now, John says. My boys need me. Theres a long pause, presumably
as the person Deans on the phone is talking to says something. I know. I know you need me too,
and Ill be back. Soon. I promise. I justI need to stick around here for a while. I can still talk to
youyes, I know its not the same. I know you have a lot on your plate. Well make it work.
Dean doesnt want to know, and its not any of his business so he slips back downstairs to throw a
salad together to go with dinner.
***
Its a relief to go to Cass. Dean can escape from the stifling tension in Bobbys house, and he can
stop worrying about what hes going to do; how hes going to deal with dad, how hes going to
keep Sam from losing his shit. Dean strips his clothes and all his problems with them, and he
leaves them in neatly folded piles to pick up tomorrow morning. Right now, hes not Sams older

brother, hes not responsible for keeping the family together; hes just Dean. Hes Cass. And that
he can handle.
Since its Sunday, Cas has already eaten, and hes flipping through his DVR, looking for
something for them to watch. Theres a History Channel special on death masks and a Discovery
Channel special on raccoons and something about deep sea fishing.
You have a preference? Cas asks.
Dean shakes his head and slides to his knees. He doesnt want to make decisions tonight, not even
little ones like what they watch on TV. He curls his arms around Cass leg and pillows his head
on Cass thigh and settles in for whatever Cas ends up choosing.
Fish it is, Cas says and once he sets the remote down, he cards his fingers through Deans hair,
and Dean closes his eyes and holds on tighter.
***
The pattern continues for the rest of the week. The tension ramps up through the day over whether
dads finally going to emerge from hiding, whether Sams going to snap and lose his shit, and then
Dean goes to Cass and lets it all go. He loses himself in making dinner, in kneeling at Cass feet,
in the feel of a hand threaded through his hair, in the sharp slap of the paddle Cas brings out one
night.
Deans quieter than usual, but Cas doesnt push him on it, apparently having decided that Deans
dealing with whatever it is and that he doesnt want to talk about it. Cas is 1 for 2 at least, but
Dean doesnt bother correcting him. The dad situation will resolve itself. Eventually.
Eventually turns out to be the following Sunday. Deans made Belgian waffles, and hes trying to
convince Sam to put ice cream on his, and Sams rolling his eyes and looking for the fresh
strawberries, and theyre having a little tousle when dad comes into the kitchen and everything
freezes.
Uh, Dean says, his mind blanking on something to say, and he scrabbles for anything, but he
cant even get his mouth around a simple hi, because hes not ready for this. He knew it was
going to happen, but hes not ready, and he has no idea whats about to happen. A shouting
match? Dad peacing for real this time?
Im sorry, dad says and thats another shocker, because he doesnt apologize. He explains
himself, his talks around the issue, he talks in hypothetical situations where he might have done
something different, but he doesnt outright apologize. I know Ive screwed up, and Im taking
steps. His face twists like he doesnt want to say what hes going to say next, but he does
anyways. Ive been going to AA meetings. Trying to go every night. Thats when, John coughs
and looks away. I cant make what happened right, but I can try to keep it from happening again.
Thats it. Carry on.
John walks out before anyone can get enough sense together to say anything, and Dean belatedly
chases after him, but hes already in his room with the door shut, and thats an obvious sign that he
doesnt want to be bothered so Dean trudges back downstairs. Bobbys still standing by the coffee
maker, mug halfway to his lips. And Sam is scowling at the space where dad used to be.
Huh, Dean says, because he needs to say something, because if he has to endure anymore of
this weighted silence hes going to scream.
Its bullshit, Sam says, sudden and with enough conviction that it stuns Bobby into movement.

His coffee mug slams down on the counter and hot coffee sloshes over the sides.
Damn it, Bobby growls, shaking his hand and reaching for a dishtowel.
Sam rolls his eyes and turns to Dean. He doesnt mean it.
I think he might. Dean cant explain why, he cant expect Sam to understand, but there was
something in the way dad looked in the prison cell, something about how utterly broken hed
sounded in the car. Theyve been through this song and dance more times than Dean can count,
but this is the first time he thinks there might be something here. Something besides wishful
thinking on his part.
You always think that, Sam says his tone implying that this is some great betrayal on Deans
part. Ive got work to do. Im headed to the library.
But waffles, Dean says, pointing to breakfast when what he really means is that today is
Sunday, and Sunday is fun day, but Sam just makes a disgusted noise and storms out of the
kitchen.
He just needs some time, Bobby says, careful, like hes afraid Deans going to snap at him.
Dean just hunches his shoulders like the entire weight of the world has suddenly been dropped on
him.

Chapter 15
Monday finds Dean in Cass kitchen baking like his life depends on it. Hes always liked baking
more than actual cooking, because he can sample cookie dough and brownie batter before it goes
into the oven, and he likes eating cookies that havent had time to cool yet so the chocolate burns
his mouth, and he doesnt bake very often for exactly this reason; he eats too much if he does.
But, tonight is different. Hes baking for a purpose, hes not baking for himself, and he needs
some serious baking therapy, because his week has gotten off to a shitty start and hasnt gotten
better. He doesnt need Sam making him feel like shit for hoping that dads turning things around.
All of Sams huffing and glaring and eye rolling is only going to make dad think this is a hopeless
endeavor and give up, and Dean doesnt want that, because one of these days, Deans not going
to be able to believe dad anymore when he says hes going to try, and Dean desperately doesnt
want that day to come.
Yeah, dads track record isnt the best with sobering up, but hes doing things differently this time,
and Dean has faith, no matter how misguided Sam might think it is.
Dean doesnt want to think about it though so hes baking. Hes got brownies in the top oven and
two trays of chocolate chip cookies in the bottom oven, and hes working on cutting out sugar
cookies and after that hes going to whip up some cupcakes and that should be enough. Unless its
not. Maybe Dean shouldve bought ingredients for snickerdoodles and gingersnaps.
Thanks to the calendar Bobby has hanging up in the office, Dean remembered that tomorrow is
National Secretary Appreciation Day, and hes guessing that if he forgot then Cas probably forgot,
and Cas seems like the kind of guy whose secretaries have secretaries so Deans baking for them.
And is secretary even PC anymore? Deans not sure, but thats something for Cas to puzzle out
when he writes out a card or whatever. Deans just doing the baking.
And maybe Cas has already done something. Or maybe hes purposefully not doing anything.
Deans not sure what theyll do with all the baked goods if thats the case. He spins around in a
circle, frantic, unsure if he should take everything out of the oven and try to erase the evidence that
hed been up to something or just keep baking and hope that everything turns out well.
Deans stomach twists, nervous, and he hates this. Cass is supposed to be where everything feels
right, where he can be calm, but hes been off this past week. Hes stopped being able to make
even little decisions, because he second guesses everything, and he what ifs himself until he wants
to curl into the fetal position and will the world away. He doesnt like being here without Cas,
because that means without direction, and hes not good with that right now.
He knows exactly what he needs to do at the garage, and Bobbys good about barking out orders
and assigning tasks when Dean starts to look bored. Its home thats the problem. Deans not sure
if he should confront dad or encourage him or ignore him or just pretend that everythings fine,
and he doesnt know what to do with Sam, and every time he does make a decision he feels like
he screws it up and everything only gets worse, and all he wants is for everything to just get better.
The timer pulls him out of his thoughts, and he checks the brownies then puts them in for five
more minutes and goes back to the sugar cookies. Baking is easy; you follow the same recipe
every time and you get predictable results. Why cant everything else be this simple?
Deans doing the last of the dishes when the apartment door opens, and he freezes, because hes
still in his pants, and hes not wearing his collar, and hes late, and Cas is going to be pissed, and
he should move and go do all that, but he knows better than to use someones kitchen and then not

clean it, and hes torn between scrubbing the flour off the counter and going to change, and he
ends up just standing by the sink, scalding water beating down on his hands.
Dean? Cas calls, and it sounds like this isnt the first time hes said Deans name.
Dean shuts the water off and grabs a dishtowel. Im sorry. For not listening. For not being
ready. For baking without permission. For sending dad into this tailspin. For not being the brother
Sam wants. For not being good enough.
Cass face shifts from confusion to concern. Youre sorry? I asked you what was with the
baking. Theres no need to apologize. I just hope you realize that Im human and cannot possibly
eat everything youve made.
Oh. Dean shakes himself to clear his head. Tomorrow is National Secretary Appreciation Day.
I figured you had a secretary or two.
Even if I had five, Cas starts, but Dean must give something away because Cas abruptly
changes direction, I would still thank you. I think one of my secretaries sends flowers to herself
and the others for the occasion, but theyll be happy to have something obviously homemade even
if I still didnt manage to remember.
Okay. Cas isnt unhappy which is a good sign, and some of the tension eases out of Deans
shoulders. Should I plate them or do you want me to put my collar on? Im sorry Im not ready. I
know you have rules, but the kitchen was dirty and, Dean forces himself to stop, to lower his
head. No excuses. Im sorry. I
Cas catches Deans chin with his hand, and his grip is gentle as he tilts his head up, and Deans
not even sure when Cas crossed the living room, but hes here in front of him now, and his gaze is
too full of worry for Dean to hold it for long.
You were doing something for me, Cas says. I can make an exception. Get undressed, put
your collar on, and meet me in the bedroom.
Bedroom? Anticipation prickles along Deans skin. He needs to be taken out of his head, and he
knows Cas can do that. He knows Cas is incredibly good at that, and it takes all his self-control to
keep his steps even and unrushed as he heads to the shelves to get himself ready.
By the time he reaches the bedroom, Cas is waiting for him, cuffs undone, sleeves rolled up to his
elbows. Rough day?
Not just day, Dean thinks but he doesnt say that. He only nods, and fights the wave of panic that
threatens to overwhelm him. Theres so much going on in his life, so much hes responsible for,
and hes terrified of screwing it up, and inaction can be just as harmful as action, and hes afraid
that the panic clawing up his throat is going to choke him. His hands go to his throat, a reflex,
even though its a phantom feeling; theres nothing wrong that he can fix.
And then there are gentle hands tugging on his wrists. Let go, Dean, says, and its a quiet
command, but a command nonetheless. Deans hands go limp, but he cant actually pull away. It
turns out he doesnt need to, because Cas does it for him. He takes Deans first wrist and tugs it up
and away until its fastened into a padded cuff.
He tugs on it, testing, and he has barely any give. Cass hand presses against Deans for a
moment, fingers slotting into place between Deans. Youre not going anywhere I dont want
you to go tonight. Its a promise that has Deans breath catching in his throat.
Cass lips brush over Deans brow before reaching for Deans other wrist, and Dean lets himself

be tied down, lets Cas tether him to this reality so he doesnt get sucked away by the shit storm
that is his life. The panicked ache in his chest ebbs as hes strapped down, as Cas effortlessly
controls what Dean cant. Deans in awe of Cass control, grateful for it, and he doesnt know
what to do. He wants to be good, to show his appreciation, but hes not sure how.
Youre not going anywhere I dont want you to go tonight.
And then he realizes he doesnt have to do anything but respond, react. Cas has set the parameters
so Dean doesnt cross them. Anything he does within them is okay. Right?
Relax, Cas says which Dean thinks is impossible; hes strung so tight tonight, but then Cas leans
forward and kisses him. Its gentle, coaxing, and more effective than his words couldve been.
Dean strains up into it, but Cas pulls back until Dean collapses back against the bed and then
Cass mouth is on him again. Its insistent, demanding, and Dean melts beneath it this time. Cass
rules, Cass expectations, and these are things Dean can live up to. He can be good here.
Cas steadily takes Dean apart, driving him to the edge, until Deans surging up for more and
brought short by his restraints each time. They jolt him back against the bed, a constant reminder
that Cas has thought of everything. He reduces Dean to a begging, writhing mess, and Deans just
about out of his mind, and he doesnt understand how Cas is so put together. Cass sleeves are still
carefully rolled like they dont dare to unroll even once, and his hair is still perfectly in place, and
its a contrast to the frenzy in Deans mind. Theyre matched opposites, and Dean whines, rattles
his restraints when Cas slides off the bed.
Cas raises his eyebrows, but he doesnt say anything, and he doesnt rush as he takes off his
clothes. He loosens his tie, pulls it over his neck then starts on the buttons, one maddeningly slow
button at a time. Dean tries to spread his legs in invitation, tries to thrust up in a desperate hope of
something, but hes held tight.
***
Dean stops at Bobbys to drop off his backpack and grab a bottle of water, and while hes
rummaging through the fridge, dad shows up in the kitchen. Dean knows the moment dad enters
the kitchen; who else can it be when Bobbys at work and Sams at school, and Deans shoulders
tense, and he waits for a hello or a good morning or something, but it never comes.
Finally, Dean straightens and closes the refrigerator door, water bottle clutched like a prize in his
hands. Dad is in the doorway, straddling the kitchen and the living room like he cant quite bring
himself to fully enter the room. Dean nods a greeting and untwists the cap of his water even if he
cant bring himself to take a drink.
The silence stretches between them, more and more uncomfortable until Dean finally ventures a
hesitant, You need anything?
John shrugs. No. Ive been distant.
Hiding, Dean thinks but doesnt say.
Howhow are you doing?
Its awkward and stilted, but Dean thinks the worst part of it is how dad looks away like he
doesnt feel like he deserves to ask this question, like he doesnt deserve to know whats going on
in Deans life. It makes Dean wish he had something more to say than, Good. Because thats all
hes got. His life isnt exciting or interesting, and the parts of it that make him truly happy are
things he cant share with anyone.

Good. John nods to himself. And Sam?

This question is even more hesitant than that last, and Dean hates being the go between them, but
he knows Samll shut down any attempt dad makes to talk, and he thinks its an important sign
that dads interested in them. That he wants to check in and make sure theyre okay. This time will
be different, Dean reminds himself and he almost smiles.
Good. Busy. Graduation is only in a few weeks and seniors stop school early so hes going to be
done soon. Hell probably go to the park and toss Frisbees and try to abduct other peoples dogs.
You know. Dean tries to smile, but he tries too hard, but it makes the corners of his mouth hurt.
Hes pretty pissed with me, John says, and he leans against the doorjamb like this admission
costs too much for him to handle.
He is. Dean wants to add that hes pretty pissed himself, but dads already broken, already on
the verge of falling to the floor and not having the will to pull himself back up so Dean keeps
quiet. But hell come around. Hes, afraid to get his hopes up, Dean thinks, but he keeps that to
himself too. He can hear Sams scorn in the back of his head, calling him a coward, but he ignores
it.
I know, John says, with a tired wave of his hand. And I deserve it. But Im going to show him
that this time its different. Ive started my search for a sponsor, and that will help. At least, thats
what everyone at the meetings say.
Thats good.
Yeah.
Theyve both run out of things to say, but no one wants to end the conversation first. Eventually,
Dean coughs and puts the cap back on his water bottle. Ive got to head to work so
Yeah, John says and he steps aside. Yeah, of course. Uh, have a good day.
Yep. Dean flashes another smile, a nervous habit, and heads outside and over to where the
garage is. Once hes in the safety of the lunchroom, he downs his water bottle in one go like that
will settle him. It doesnt do anything but make him feel vaguely nauseous.
***
Its Saturday morning, and Cas and Dean have finished breakfast and drifted into the living room
to prolong the lazy feel of the day. Cas turns the TV on, but its show neither of them are invested
in, and the sound is low, making it more background noise than distraction. Deans stretched out
across the couch, his head in Cass lap as Cas runs his fingers through Deans hair.
Its pleasant, and Deans happy to sink into the leather of the sofa, his body loose and his mind
content from breakfast and the fun they had in shower when they first woke up. Still, his mind
starts to wander, to how much he wants this to last, to how much he doesnt want this to end; to
thoughts of Sam and college; of dad and the mystery phone calls that Dean desperately wants to
eavesdrop on.
He keeps catching snippets of dads end of the conversation, and it sounds like someone wants
him to come out and visit, but he keeps telling them that he has to make things up to Sam, that
hell be out as soon as he can but not yet. How whoever it is just needs to be patient. Its troubling,
dad doesnt have friends, and Deans afraid of what kind of people he might gravitate towards if
he decided to get some, but Dean doesnt know how to bring it up in conversation. So, I
overheard you talking to someone on the phone isnt exactly a good opener.

Youre frowning, Cas says, and he tries to smooth out the wrinkle in Deans forehead with is
finger. Whered you go?
Deans first reaction is to lie, deflect, but his second reaction is quick on its heels. This is Cas who
not only expects honesty but doesnt judge Dean for what he feels. He listens to Dean talk like
what Dean has to say is important like what hes going through matters, and that, more than the
condition that they always speak the truth, is what makes Dean open up.
Ive been off lately, Dean says, and Cass hand pauses in Deans hair, a sign that hes
recognized it and maybe even his surprise that Deans voluntarily opening up about it. My dad
disappeared a couple weeks ago which isnt unusual, but he was gone longer than usual and then I
got a call. Dean hesitates, because this is his personal life hes exposing here, and what if Cas
pushes him away, because his life is so fucked up? Its obvious that Deans damaged, and he
doesnt think hes going to get any better and eventually Cas is going to realize it.
Cass fingers begin a slow scalp massage, an offer to let this drop, to distract Dean if thats what
he wants.
OUI. He got his license suspended, and Sams pissed, but I think dad realized he crossed the line
this time, and hes trying to straighten himself out. Sam doesnt believe it, but I do. I mean, the
man never admits that he needs help or that he cant do something himself, and he got himself a
sponsor yesterday. It doesnt sound like a big deal, but it is. Its huge, and Sam refuses to see it.
Dean falls silent, because hes thinking about Benny now. His dad had told him yesterday
morning about finding the guy, and Dean thinks its another positive step forward, and he wants to
meet this Benny, make sure hes not going to make things worse or anything. Dad says maybe in
a week or so; he wants to see if Benny pans out. Dean thinks hes ashamed of this whole business.
But? Cas prompts.
But why does he need Benny? Why cant I help him? Why arent I enough?
Cas moves so fast it makes Dean dizzy. One moment theyre lounging in the couch, the next, Cas
is looming over him, Deans jaw caught in a firm grip. You are enough, Cas says. You are
more than enough. Your fathers problems are not a reflection of you or your abilities or your
character. Do you understand?
Deans eyes are wide as his mind struggles to comprehend what just happened, and Cass
expression softens, and his hands cup Deans face. Im sorry. That was too sudden. You cant
play every role in his recovery, but you are making things better.
How can you know that? Dean asks. You dont even know him.
No, Cas agrees, and his smile is fond as he looks down at Dean. But I know you.
***
Things dont necessarily get better but they keep going, and Dean holds out hope that if they get
through enough hours, enough days then everything will eventually straighten itself out. Deans
worried that things are going to go downhill when Sam gets out of school, but Sam just takes on a
lot more hours at work, and that causes a new wave of concern, but Bobby points out that Dean
doesnt exactly have room to judge.
Youre the poster boy for avoidance through work, Bobby says during the third time Dean
brings up his concerns about the amount of time Sams working.

Im not avoiding anything, Dean says, but its bullshit and they both know it. Im working to
put Sam through college, to keep this family together. I need all the hours I have.
You can be both.
Dean huffs out a breath, but he doesnt have a believable counter, because its true. Deans hours
keep him away from home almost constantly, and he wouldnt have it any other way.
Im not hiding from my life, Sam says, and Dean doesnt startle, but its a close thing. Instead,
he glares, because Dean didnt want Sam to be a part of this conversation, and Sam gives him the
look right back. My ears were burning. I came to investigate. And I dont see why you get to be
in charge of what I do with my life.
Because mom isnt here to do it, and dad isnt up for the job, Dean wants to say, but he doesnt.
Im not trying to take over your life. I just want to make sure you have one.
Im just trying to be like you, Sam says, and its like a punch to the gut, because that is exactly
what Dean has been trying to prevent his whole life. He making sacrifices so Sam can get out of
the rut dad and Dean are in, so he can make something out of himself. Dean isnt a role model,
and the last thing he wants is for Sam to grow up to be like him.
Look, Sams eyes dart nervously over to Bobby, and Bobby gives the barest of nods, and Sam
straightens his shoulders and pulls something out of his pocket. Youre working to put me
through school, so I figured it was only fair if I did the same.
Sam hands over a bunch of papers, and Dean reads through them, a frown working his way into
his forehead, because these say hes got three classes paid for at Killian Community College this
summer. How had Sam even figured out Dean was considering this? And how had he scraped
together enough money for college classes already? And where is Dean even supposed to find the
time to go?
Sam, Dean starts, but Sam cuts in, eager.
Look, I saw the brochure in our trashcan, and I was worried that you thought we couldnt afford
it so I found a way to make it work. And before you tell me that you dont have the time or
whatever, dont. Because I know you. You never wouldve even gone to the school let alone
picked the pamphlet up if you didnt think you could find a way to make it work. I was looking
through the classes, and if you take Tuesday/Thursday classes then youll only miss two days at
the garage. It will work, wont it?
Sams bristling with excitement, but its volatile, and Dean knows one wrong word, one moment
of hesitation will bring Sam to the brink of tears so he musters up a smile. I can make anything
work, he says with confidence he isnt feeling. He could probably make it work; he makes
enough money working for Cas that working for Bobby is a bonus and part of his cover for the
amount of money hes making, but going to college had been a briefly entertained thought for
him. What if hes not smart enough? What if they dont want him? What if hes the oldest person
there?
Well, its already paid for, Sam says. So you might as well take the classes. I got a course
catalog for you while I was down there. You really thinking psychology?
Dean shrugs because he hasnt put a lot of thought into this. He never dared to, because hes
learned better than to get his hopes up. But now, this is happening, and he isnt prepared, and he
doesnt have a plan and two back-ups, and he feels familiar panic surging up through his body.

Thats cool, Sam says. Youll have to tell me what you learn, because Im interested in how
people tick. Itll probably help me with being a lawyer eventually. Anyways, I promised Josh I
was going to kick his ass at Call of Duty before I had to go to work. Dont forget to sign up for
you classes! Sam sneaks in for a ninja hug and disappears before Dean can pull away or give him
a lecture on how theyre too old for hugs now.
Once Sams gone, Dean really looks at the papers in his hands. Hes paid for three courses, any
three courses he wants to take, and he knows that taking classes like this, individually and at a
community college, isnt as expensive as, say, taking a full semester at Stanford, but it isnt cheap,
and Sam hasnt been working for all too long.
He holds up the papers and looks over at Bobbys. You help him with this?
No, but Im still going to tell you not to give him a hard time about it. Hes so happy to finally do
something for you.
It wasnt Bobby, and it definitely wasnt dad which only leaves on person. Ellen, Dean mutters
and he goes into the other room to make a phone call.
Ah, so you got your present, Ellen says when she picks up the phone in lieu of a hello or regular
greeting. Do I need earplugs or are you calling to thank me?
Was it your idea or his?
His. You shouldve heard his voice when he first called me up. He was so excited. No way was I
saying no to that.
You shouldve. Dean doesnt like being indebted to people, and he really doesnt like it when
its been done for something for him. He doesnt like to impose, and its not like he needs college
classes. This is a luxury, a bonus, and not something Sam should be spending his money on.
Hes working so he can actually do things when he gets to school instead of being stuck on
campus because he doesnt have the money for whatever the hell college kids do.
The years have not made you any less stubborn, Ellen says. Or grateful. Sam did something
nice for you. End of story.
He had to borrow money from you to do it, Dean says. I know he couldnt have done it on his
own. I can pay you back.
Dont be ridiculous. It defeats the whole purpose of a gift if you insist on paying for it. Besides,
its about time someone does something for you for a change.
I dont need anything.
Yes you do. Ellens tone is softer now, serious. You refuse to admit it, but you do. So, sign up
for some classes and thank your brother for being insightful enough for getting you something you
would refuse to get for yourself.
Shes using her bossy, maternal tone, the one that makes Dean both want to say yes, of course,
anything you say and also shout and tell her shes not his mother. He doesnt do either; instead, he
takes a deep breath. Ive had to pick up a second job.
Dont make excuses. Sign up for the classes. And if youre really worried about Sammy using
his allowance on you then see that you get yourself straight As, and Ill forget about it. Deal?
Wait, Dean says, but Ellens already hung up. He takes another deep breath and rubs his

forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

Chapter 16
Chapter Notes

This has their most intense scene so far. It takes up about the last 7/10ths of the
chapter if you include aftercare in case you want to skip it.

Deans distracted while he cooks dinner at Cass, because hed been going through the course
book, and there are so many classes. There are dozens of majors and there are even specialty
majors, and he doesnt even know where to begin picking out classes. He knows he has to start
with the intro level which narrows down the choices, but even there they try and nudge you in
certain directions, and hes not even sure he wants to do psychology let alone what kind of
psychology. Theres abnormal psych and mental disorders and psychobiology and he doesnt
even know what that last one means.
Its too much, and he almost burns himself making dinner, because he forgets the front burner is
still hot, and hes still stuck on it after Cas has come home and is eating.
Youre quiet this evening, Cas says halfway into his dinner. Trouble at home again?
For once it isnt which is why Dean speaks before he thinks. Not this time. Sam paid for me to
take some summer courses, and I cant figure out which ones I want to take.
Youre going back to school? Cas looks pleased which Dean thinks is ridiculous. Hes not the
college type. He didnt even make it through high school so he doesnt understand why everyone
is pushing him to try and get some kind of college degree. Hes good with cars and apparently
hes good at fucking so why try something new?
Dont have much of a choice. Its only three classes so nothing to get your hopes up about.
Those three classes will lead to more, Cas says with confidence Dean doesnt share. What
subject are you interested in?
Psychology. I can bring the course catalog by if you want. Maybe Cas will pick the classes for
Dean. Hes good at making decisions, and hes even better at knowing what Dean wants,
sometimes even better than Dean does.
Cas shakes his head like hes reading Deans thoughts. This is your future. You need to be the
one making this decision. Cas offers Dean a snow pea. I think youll enjoy school.
Dean takes the snow pea and crunches into it. My records will show that thats not the case.
It wasnt your priority then. You didnt feel like you could let it be, not with Sam to take care of
and bills to meet. But now? Cas offers Dean a warm smile. Now theres no reason for you to
feel guilty about spending time on something you enjoy.
Its work. Its a weak protest, but Dean makes it anyways. How can work be enjoyable?
Youre being very negative today, Cas observes, and his fingers go to his tie, loosening it, and
I want to eat my dinner in peace. He gets the tie undone and gives Dean a look that has Dean

opening his mouth. Cas secures the tie and drapes the loose ends over Deans shoulders. You
look good like this, Cas says, as he drags his thumb across Deans bottom lip. I dont know why
I dont do this more often. Probably because Id rather be doing other things with your mouth.
Deans gaze dips down to Cass crotch before he can help himself, and disappointment rushes
through him at the thought that hes not going to get to taste Cas tonight. No kisses, no blow jobs,
he probably wont even get a finger in his mouth tonight, and he bites into the fabric of Cass tie to
hold back his protest.
Plenty of other things I can do, Cas muses. Jerk off on your face, watch it dry on your skin,
because you cant get your tongue out to lick it off. Cass thumb sweeps across Deans cheek
like hes imaging what it would look like. Deans groan gets lost in the tie, and his cock thickens
as it fills.
But, Cas pulls his hand back, thats for later. I havent finished my dinner yet. Dean makes a
strangled sound in the back of his throat, because Cas is a fucking tease, and Cas just raises a
single, uninterested eyebrow. If youre going to be a distraction, Ill send you to the other room.
Dean shakes his head, because he doesnt want to be away from Cas, and he doesnt want Cas
thinking he cant behave. To show how good he can be, Dean settles back on his heels, and he
splays his hands against his thighs, and he waits, patient for Cas to finish eating. He entertains
himself with mights and maybes and hopefullys, wondering if Cas is going to follow through on
his idle musings. His skin prickles with the anticipation of Cas winding his hand around the loose
ends of the tie so he can yank Deans head back, tug him this way and that. Deans has a lot of
fantasies involving Cas and his ties, and he does his best to stay still, to stay quiet so he might be
able to see some of them come to life.
***
What are you up to? John asks.
Its an innocent question, but Dean freezes like hes committing a crime, and he clutches the
envelope in his hands close to his chest. Uh. He shrugs and then feels guilty, because dads
making an effort here, and Deans brushing him off. Just, signing up for some college courses.
He knows the words are a mistake, especially after dads reaction when he found the brochure,
but he cant take them back so instead he braces for the inevitable put down.
It never comes.
Anything interesting?
Dean shrugs again Well see. Its just a couple classes over the summer. Bobby wants to take on
a part time guy so its best if my hours get cut down a little. What are you, Dean pauses,
swallows, Anything interesting with you? Dean doesnt remember talking with dad ever being
so awkward. He also doesnt remember having to force himself to talk to him like this. Theres
nothing for Dean to say, because most of his life is a secret from his family and the rest of it just
isnt that interesting. He isnt that interesting.
No. Been going to a lot of meetings. Started going to the gym again. Uh, John rubs the back of
his neck and flicks his eyes up to meet Deans. Benny seems to be working out as a sponsor, and
I thought you might want to grab a burger with us sometime. Its not a big deal or anything. I
know youve been working a lot. John looks pained at that, like hes realizing Dean has to work,
because John isnt.
No, its cool. Its fine. Whenever you want to go is cool. I have to be at work at 6 every day but

we could do an early dinner?

Yeah. Sure. Ill let you know when we set something up.
***
Its Friday night, and theres a buzz of anticipation under Deans skin. Theyve eaten, and Dean is
stretched out on Cass bed, eyes hooded, lips parted, legs spread, all in invitation. Cas is sitting on
the bed, a hand curled around Deans thigh, and he raises his eyebrows at Deans blatant posture.
You want something?
Dean shrugs, but he reaches his hands up and back, wrapping around the slats in the headboard
and calling attention to the long line of his torso.
Subtly is an art thats escaped you, Cas says, but he climbs between Deans legs which Dean
definitely considers a win. But Im feeling generous tonight. Cass hands sweep up Deans
thighs, and he trembles under the touch, shifts the tiniest bit to get Cass touch closer to where he
wants it. Ah, ah, ah. Cas pulls his hands back, and grins at Deans obvious frustration. What
do you want? Something we havent done before, maybe? Cas taps Deans forehead. What
have you been thinking about?
Dean goes still under Cass hand, because he has been thinking. Entertaining thoughts hed never
put into words and lately, a memory that shouldve been long buried keeps popping up in his
head. Rhonda Hurley and those stupid pink satin panties. He squeezes his eyes shut, because he
cant look at Cas and think about the drag of fabric against his skin, at the thrill that went through
him when she tossed them at him and told him to put them on, no room for argument or protest in
her voice.
I, Dean knows what Cas wants to hear, but he cant get up the courage to admit it. He turns his
head away. Nothing.
Nothing? Theres a hard edge to Cass voice, and when Dean doesnt say anything, doesnt turn
to look at him, Cas moves, lightning fast, until his hands are digging into Deans wrists and his
knees are pressing painful into the crease of Deans hips. Deans eyes fly to Cas, realizing too late
that hes screwed up. The easy smile is gone from Cass lips; his eyes are hard, the set of his jaw
harder, and Dean wants to curl up, wants to protect himself, but he cant move.
I thought I told you not to lie to me, Cas growls and Dean opens his mouth to fix his mistake, to
apologize, something, but Cas claps a hand over Deans mouth. No. You dont want anything?
Fine.
He sits back between Deans knees, and he wraps his hand around Deans cock, giving it a few
short strokes to get it fully hard. His grip is just shy of painful, his strokes rough, barely contained
anger simmering in his blood, and Deans both awed by Cass control and afraid of snapping it.
He doesnt understand how this is a punishment, because mostly it just feels really good, and
drives his hips into Cass grip, surprised when Cas doesnt stop him or smack him, and he does it
again, willing to take advantage of the moment. He can feel his arousal building, and his hands
squeeze the headboard, because hes not sure if hes allowed to come or not. Hes not sure of
anything, actually, except that he doesnt want Cas to stop.
Youre close, arent you? Cas asks, his voice a deep whisper in Deans ear and since when had
Cas moved? Bet you are, but youre not going to come. You know why? He gives Dean a
rough squeeze, and Deans breath catches in his throat, and his toes curl and cramp with the effort
it takes to hold back, to hold still. Because you dont want it. Cass strokes are slow now,

maddening, keeping Dean trembling on the verge, but theyre not enough to tip him over. Every
time you get close, youre going to tell me to stop. Understand?
Deans mouth drops, because Cas cant be serious. But Cas pulls back enough to meet Deans
gaze, and hes definitely serious.
And, Cas says, his voice dropping to make sure Dean pays close attention to his next words. I
mean close. You call it quits before youre desperate to make it easy on yourself, and Ill truss you
up in the other room, stick a vibrator up your ass and leave you. You understand?
Dean nods because theres nothing else for him to do. Hes pissed Cas off, and he doesnt want to
make it worse, and maybe this wont be so bad. That thought it quickly shattered, because Cas
reaches into the drawer for the lube and drizzles some on his hand so he can stroke Dean in
earnest.
Theres a pull in his stomach, and his back starts to arch, and Dean screws his eyes shut and forces
the word, stop, past his lips.
Cass hand pauses, grip falling slack. What was that?
Dean cracks his eyes open to glare, but it has no effect. Please, stop.
You dont like that? Cas asks, a glint in his eye. Maybe I should try something else then. He
braces his hands on Deans hips, and Deans eyes go wide as Cas lowers his mouth, realizing
what hes going to do, and he shakes his head, because no. This is not fair. This is so out of the
realm of fair.
Cas swallows him down in one go, and he presses Dean down into the mattress so Dean cant
thrust up, so he cant move; he just has to lie there and take it. Dean whines and squeezes the
headboard, because Cass mouth is hot and wet and perfect, and he takes Dean as deep as he can,
and Dean wants to buck his hips, he wants to come down Cass throat, he wants the insistent
pressure thrumming in his body to stop.
He almost loses himself to the slick slide of Cass mouth, but when his thighs start to tremble, one
of his tells, Cas flicks his eyes up, a silent question, a mocking challenge in them. Dean bites his
bottom lip, holds on a moment longer, because he doesnt want to lose this, but eventually he
chokes out his, Stop, please, Cas, because he doesnt want to be left in the other room. As bad
as this is, asking Cas to pull back, watching as Cas leans back onto his heels, careful not to touch
any part of Dean, its better than the alternative.
Shame, Cas says, his fingers trailing a light tease down Deans thighs. I was starting to enjoy
that.
Theres an angry response to that on the tip of Deans tongue, but Cas shakes his head and presses
his fingers to the underside of Deans jaw, holding it shut. Dean takes the hint, and he clenches his
jaw, lets the hard lines of his body speak for him. Cas just laughs and reaches across Dean to get
the lube from where hed dropped it on the bed.
That defiance isnt going to last long. Cas slicks up his fingers and taps Deans hips until he
rolls them up, giving Cas easy access to Deans ass. Dean puts up a token protest, clenching his
cheeks, glaring down, but Cas shoves at Deans thighs, bending him almost in two, and
movement makes the tip of Deans cock drag, wet and obscene, against his stomach, and Dean
cant help his gasp, the way his entire goes tight at the brief contact then sighs its relief when its
over.

See, Cas says, and hes somehow got a finger circling Deans entrance. Didnt last long at all,
but youre easy like that.
Dean didnt think he could get any redder, but he does, face flushing hot with anger now, not just
embarrassment, but Cass weight has him pinned in this position, and he cant hide the full body
shudder when Cass finger first breaches him. He is easy, at least for Cas.
Cas stretches him open slow, one finger dragging in and out for what seems like an eternity.
Sweat has broken out on Deans skin, and his breaths are coming in shallow gasps, and his cock is
painfully, achingly hard. He wants more even though he knows he shouldnt. His mind knows itll
make everything worse, but his body reaches toward Cas, demanding, needing more. He thrusts
his hips up, and when Cas drives his finger back in, he pushes Dean down against the mattress
and his cock brushes his stomach again, pain and need and want flaring so fast and so sudden,
Deans left panting in the aftershocks.
Cas pauses, finger half out, eyebrows raised in question. Deans entire body is a mess of
needneedneed, but hes not getting enough to tip him over, not enough to get him where Cas
really wants him so he spreads his legs, a silent plea for more. For a moment, hes afraid Cas is
going to make him say it, and Dean cant put it into words, he cant beg for something he knows
hes going to have to turn around and beg Cas to stop in only a few moments. But Cas just studies
Dean for a moment and then hes sliding two fingers in, reaching deep, and Dean knows whats
about to happen, but it still catches him off guard when Cass fingers graze his prostrate.
Pleasure sparks through him, a rush that he wants to get lost in. He wants to give himself over, get
swept up in it, but he knows he cant. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, where his thoughts
arent flooded with yes and please and now, he knows he cant. Stop, he begs. Please. No.
He twists and means to pull away, but he pushes back against Cass fingers, anything to get that
touch back, and its too much, its going to drive him over the edge. No, no, please. Help. Cas,
please, I
Cass fingers lock around the base of Deans erection just in time, and the surge of pleasure is
stopped short, denied release, and it lashes back, sending small tremors through Deans body,
because he needs. More than he ever has before, and hes not going to get it, and thrusts his hips,
hoping that Cas will take pity on him, loosen his grip, stroke him again, but the touch never
comes. Cass grip stays firm, restricting, and Dean feels tears on his cheeks, but hes not sure if its
relief or frustration or some combination of the two.
They stay like that for a long moment, until Dean stops breathing like someones ripping the air
from his lungs, until his chest stops rising and falling so rapidly, until the panic and adrenaline
fade, leaving him with the painful throb of want. He sinks back into the mattress, his legs splaying
wider, and Cas repositions them so Dean is flat against the mattress, one of Cass legs between
his.
Cas is leaning over him, their faces close to touching, and theres no pity in the depths of Cass
eyes, no shred of mercy, and another tear slips from Deans eye, because he cant do this. Cas is
going to keep this up until Dean shakes into a thousand pieces, too many for anyone to pick up
and put back together, and Dean shakes his head, desperate for this to end, for Cas to send him
into the bathroom to take care of himself and then out to the couch to sleep. Hell miss sleeping
curled up with Cas, but itll be better than this. Has to be.
Cas catches Deans jaw, stops his thrashing, and he presses a finger to Deans lips, shushes him.
Dean hadnt even realized hed been making small whimpering noises until theyre gone. Cas
kisses Deans tears away and strokes his cheeks which only makes new tears rise up, and Dean
hates that hes crying, but he hates a lot of things right now, and he doesnt have control over any
of them.

Im sorry, Dean says, his voice broken and raw, and his hands release the headboard so they
can cling to Cass shoulders instead. Im sorry. I was bad. Shouldnt have lied. Not to you.
Deans fingers curl tighter, wanting Cas closer, wanting him to relax into the touch, to welcome
Dean back. Please. Im sorry.
Cas runs his hand through Deans hair, sweat making it stick up once Cass hand has passed
through. The touch is cold, clinical. Not as sorry as you will be, Cas says, and he taps his
fingers against Deans bottom lip. I helped you earlier. Arent you going to thank me?
Dean wants to curl up and turn away, protect himself from more of this, but he opens his mouth,
takes Cass fingers in, because he screwed up. He deserves this, and hes going to prove to Cas
that hes sorry. Hes going to take this, hes going to do whatever Cas asks of him, and hell fix
everything.
He sucks Cass fingers, wets them thoroughly before he parts the two fingers with his tongue,
drags his tongue between them. Cas makes a pleased sound and grinds his thigh against Deans
erection. Hes still wearing his dress pants, hes still wearing all his clothes Dean realizes, and the
scratch of fabric is too much on Deans overly sensitive skin. He chokes on Cass fingers, a sob
trying to escape, and Dean sucks harder, swallowing it back down. The pain helps to keep the
pleasure at bay, helps Dean keep control. Then, Cass thigh shifts down, presses against Deans
balls, swollen with need and desperation, and Dean tips his head back and screws his eyes shut,
Cass fingers almost sliding out of his mouth.
This is how it goes for longer than Deans mind can keep track of. Cas relentlessly pushes,
demands everything until Dean cries out a broken, stop, around Cass fingers, and Cas pulls
back and wipes his spit covered fingers against Deans cheek. And then he crawls between
Deans legs and eats him out until Deans crying and begging and pleading, until Deans, stop,
almost gets lost in his tears.
Its after this last one that Dean turns his head away, because its too much effort to turn his body,
because he cant summon enough strength to push Cas away or to curl up and protect himself.
Thoughts flit in and out of his head, never lingering long enough for him to get a grip on them. All
he knows is sensation; pain insistent and present, pleasure throbbing and never ending. Hes
scraped raw, and hes at the end of his line.
He cant get his mouth around words, he wont made it through another round. This is when Cas
gathers him up and the touch is gentle, and Dean wants to sink into it, he wants to welcome it, but
hes afraid its another trick.
He tries to shake his head, but his head is too heavy and his neck isnt strong enough. He manages
an unintelligible stream of sounds that are supposed to mean no, please stop. Hes not allowed to
have what he wants. He doesnt deserve it.
Its okay, Cas says, his hand cupping Deans cheek, thumb wiping away fresh tears. Its okay
now. Are you still with me?
A few more mumbles. Deans not sure what these ones are supposed to mean. More, maybe. Or
hold me. Or maybe another apology. He wants Cas to hold him and never let go. He wants to be
wrapped up in warmth and forgiveness, and he wants the ache in his chest to go away. He wants
the slimy feeling of wrong and screw-up to fade.
You have another chance, Cas says, and he tips Deans head so theyre looking at each other,
and Cass eyes are soft now. Hes not angry anymore. What do you want?

Dean tries to curl his fingers around Cass wrist, but he doesnt have the strength and his hand
flops back down. You, he whispers, and Cass hands hold Dean tighter.
Youve got me, he promises. What else do you want? One of his hands wanders lower,
lightly strokes Deans cock. This?
Dean gasps at the renewed rush, at the reminder of how long hes been holding back, of how
much he wants. He makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat, and Cas slides his hand down
to the base and drags it back up. Come for me, Cas says, and Dean finally does, and it feels like
Cas is drawing the rest of his consciousness out from him, and Dean passes out with the intensity
from it.
When he comes around, hes still in bed, but he feels different, and he cant place it. His entire
body is heavy, from his toes to his eyelids, and he thinks its too much effort to keep his eyes
open.
Hey, Cas chides when Deans eyes close again. Not yet. I need you to stay with me for a bit.
Can you do that?
Dean shakes his head, and a drop of water splashes on his nose. Oh, thats whats different. Hes
clean. Cas had showered him? While Dean was unconscious? Huh. Dean always misses the fun
stuff. Maybe if he asks nicely Cas will do it again sometime. He thinks it would be nice to feel
Cass hands on him like that, when theyre both naked and wet and soap makes the slide easy.
Yes you can, Cas says and the bed dips as Cas shifts his position and helps Dean sit up. I
know you can. You know why? Because I want you to, and youre good at doing what I want.
Dean goes warm with the compliment, and he makes an effort to stay up. His head flops down on
Cass shoulders, but he keeps his eyes open so he counts that as a win.
Good, but your head needs to be up. Cas helps him right his head and then theres a glass of
orange juice in front of Dean, and he doesnt understand. Where did it come from? Why is it here?
Cas presses the lip of the glass against Deans bottom lip. Can you open for me? You need to
drink a little before we go to bed. I pushed you hard tonight.
Dean parts his lips even though he doesnt want to. He wants to curl into Cass heat and fall
asleep. He doesnt want to drink anything. Swallowing seems like a monumental task, but he does
it anyways, because he doesnt want the juice to trickle out of his mouth. Not after Cas just got
him cleaned up.
Good, Cas says, and he runs a hand through Deans hair. Can you take another?
Dean shakes his head, but he opens his mouth, and its a completely mixed signal, but Cas tips a
bit of juice into his mouth anyways.
How are you feeling? Cas asks, giving Dean a break. He lowers the glass to rest on Deans leg.
Tired, Dean slurs and he tucks his head against Cass neck again which gets him a small
chuckle.
Ive noticed. But, Cass tone turns serious, youre okay? Thats as intense as weve ever been.
Cass hand continues to stroke through Deans hair, and Dean goes pliant beneath the touch.
Mgood now. Dean snuggles closer and Cas obligingly wraps an arm around him. In fact, Dean
feels great. The sleepiness is still there, but its the kind thats accompanied by weightlessness, by
the sense that the world is wide and wonderful and Dean could float through the whole thing. Its

kind of like being tipsy, that moment when everything is good and your brain is a few seconds
behind your mouth so you say things you might not mean to like, Dont know why you care.
What? Cas, surprised, starts to pull away, and Dean realizes, a moment too late, that hes said
something wrong and he rushes to fix it, to bring Cas back.
About what I want. This is about you. Why do I matter?
Why do you, Cas cuts himself off with a look of astonishment. This isnt about me. Cass
hands cup Deans face against, and Dean eagerly accepts the touch. Its about us. How could I
not want to know what you want? You think I dont like seeing you flushed and eager and
desperate as I drive you out of your mind? Dean, making you happy makes me happy.
Oh.
Deans not sure what to do with that. There are too many confessions wrapped up in there, too
many things that Dean wants to believe but is afraid to. Too many things that he doesnt deserve.
If you asked now, I would tell you, he says because hes not brave enough to tackle anything
Cas just said.
You would answer anything right now, Cas says, which is exactly why I wont. I wasnt angry
that you were keeping things to yourself, I was angry that you lied to me. If theres something
youre ashamed of, something you want to hide then youre allowed to. Id like you to know that
you dont have to be ashamed of anything with me, but the solution isnt taking advantage of you
in a vulnerable state.
Huh. Those were too many words for Dean to try and make sense of right now. Can we sleep
now?
Cas chuckles, surprised. Soon. A little more juice first and then I promise we can sleep.

Chapter 17
Chapter Notes

Warnings: Brief discussion of Alastair (abusive language, forced feminization

Dean wakes up and he feels like hes been hit with a sledgehammer during the night. His entire
body is sore; its not a sharp pain, more like an ache, and he feels it any time he moves, and he
groans and wonders if its possible to sleep until his body feels normal again. Hes willing to give
it a shot, and he stretches out to find a new position to sleep in, and his leg reaches across the bed
and hits empty space.
He pauses and draws his limbs in, and he cracks his eyes open enough to see that the other half of
the bed is empty. Cas isnt here. Before Dean can get into a full panic, he spots the piece of paper
on Cass pillow. Stepped out to get breakfast. Wont be long.
Not abandoned, Dean thinks, and he debates the merits of staying sprawled in bed until Cas
comes back, but he figures its best to get up now. Maybe hell take a shower, work out some of
the soreness in his muscles. Only, when he gets into the bathroom he realizes that he doesnt want
to take his collar off. Maybe if Cas was here, but Cas is out, and Dean needs the reminder that
hes Cass, that Cas cares about him.
He settles for a bath instead, and hes careful not to sink too deep into the water. Last night comes
back to him in bits and pieces, but its the post-punishment that his mind keeps flipping back to.
The open honesty, the surprise at Cass answers, Cass unwillingness to push for answers when
he knew he could get them.
Dean doesnt know what to do with that. Cas has been talking since the beginning about trust, and
Dean has learned to trust him with his body, but this goes deeper than that. This is Dean being
able to trust Cas not to push, to respect certain limits even as he carefully pushes past others. It
makes Dean want to trust him with his secrets, tell him everything, because Cas is safe. He has a
hard time wrapping his mind around that, because other bits of last night keep popping up; Dean
crying, Dean begging for Cas to stop, the painful pulse of his erection, and its strange that Cas is
safe when he can twist Dean up like that, but maybe thats precisely why hes safe. Because hell
poke and prod and twist, and hell drive Dean right up to the edge of too much, and then hell pull
back, and Dean can let him do these things, because he knows Cas will never tip over the edge.
It takes Dean a long moment to realize that hes running his fingers over the faint scars on his back
and as soon as he does, he yanks his hand out of the water. His bath is suddenly chilly, and he
hastily climbs out and drains it, and he dries himself off, and hes still shivering so he slips Cass
bathrobe on. Its thick and warm and the weight of the fabric settles against his skin and cradles
him, creating and trapping warmth inside. As a bonus, it smells like Cas, and Dean tucks his nose
into the shoulder and inhales.
Hes working so hes not supposed to be wearing anything, but hell take it off before Cas gets
back. Or, because that reeks of dishonesty and doesnt sit well with him, hell wear it until Cas
gets home and apologize. Hell get punished for it, but Dean doesnt like to lie, especially not to
Cas. He had panicked last night, and it had been a mistake, and one hes definitely not going to
repeat any time soon.

He kneels on the couch, legs out to the side, and he rests his head on the armrest to wait for Cas to
come home.
He must drift off, because the next thing he remembers is the sound of the door opening, and he
jerks to attention. He pauses, guilty, when Cas steps into the living room, because the first thing he
does is glance down at the bathrobe.
Im sorry, Dean says, already sliding off the couch and onto his knees, and he shouldve been
like this when Cas came in. Hes getting too comfortable here, taking too many liberties. I was
cold.
Its fine, Cas says and he sets a brown paper bag down on the end table, and Dean wants to
investigate, because it smells good, like cinnamon and apples, and theres something sweet in
there too, but he has some explaining to do first. Cas crouches down next to Dean and tilts his
head up, and theres nothing but concern in Cass eyes Youre cold?
Im good now. Dean fiddles with the tie of the bathrobe. I can take it off. His fingers hesitate
to actually undo the tie, because he needs to talk to Cas, and he likes the bathrobe. Its warm and
comforting and he clings to the lapels tighter than he means to.
Its fine, Cas repeats. You can leave it on. His hands cover Deans in an attempt to ease the
tension out of them. Are you scared of me?
No, Dean assures him, No, definitely not. Deans screwing this up. It shouldnt surprise him,
because he screws everything up, but hes actually trying to do something good right now. There
was a girl named Rhonda Hurley.
Dean, Cas is shaking his head, trying to coax Dean to let go of the bathrobe, you dont need to
do this. I told you last night
that you werent going to ask me when I didnt know how to say no. And you didnt. But Im
thinking clearly now, and I want to tell you. Last night, I panicked, but Ive done some thinking
this morning. Please.
Cas hesitates, but eventually he nods, and Dean blows out a slow breath.
Right. Rhonda Hurley. She, Dean pauses, blushing to the very roots of his hair at the mere
thought of telling Cas this, and he has to take a deep breath before he can try again, she made me
try on her panties. Dean can feel the burn of his embarrassment on his face, and he wants to turn
his head away, and he could and he thinks Cas would let him, but he doesnt, because he wants to
see Cass reaction. He wants to see the emotions flit across his face before he can try to control
them.
Cas gives him nothing so Dean gathers the reminds of his courage and keeps going. She made
me put them on and then she grabbed a fistful of my hair and shoved my head down between her
legs. And I liked it. A lot. The blush spreads down Deans neck, and hes probably red and
blotchy now. Which I guess is kind of obvious. I wouldnt be here if I didnt like being bossed
around. Or, Dean has to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat, his bodys last attempt to
make him keep his mouth shut, or the other thing.
Dean. Theres concern in Cass voice, in the soft curve of his fingers under Deans chin, but
Dean brushes it aside, because hes started this, and hes going to finish it.
It was something I could do on my own, you know? Kind of hard to tie myself up or whatever,
but it was easy to slip on a pair of panties, and I would do it every once in a while and go out to

the bar, chat with people over a beer and every time I moved I would feel the drag of my jeans
over the lace or satin or cotton, whatever I chose to wear that night. That how Alastair found me.
My shirt must have ridden up or something, because he slid up to me and wrapped an arm around
my waist and told me he knew my dirty little secret.
Dean has to close his eyes now, and the memory threatens to overtake him. The haze of smoke in
the bar, the way it made Dean want to cough, how it made his eyes water. The creepy crawly
sense of wrong when Alastair touched him, the dread in Deans chest when Alastair drew him in,
the panic at Alastairs whisper.
Cass hand slides up to cup Deans cheek and his other hand comes up as well until Deans face is
being cradled. Hey, Cas says, Come back to me.
Dean clutches at Cass hands like theyre the only things tethering him to the present, but his eyes
stay closed. He liked to make me wear them, but I didnt like it. Hed put me in skirts and put
lipstick on me or hed put a studded collar on me and call me his good little bitch. Deans voice
drops to a near whisper, shame and dread rising swiftly through him. His hands tremble against
Cass, because he can still feel Alastair looming over him. His shoulders draw tight, waiting for
the kick of a heavy boot or the snap of a switch.
Instead, warm hands draw him in, and they drag down his shoulders, erasing the tension,
reminding Dean that he isnt in that basement anymore. Hes in Cass apartment where hes safe
and cared for, and he drops his head to Cass shoulder and gives into the shaking of his body.
Im sorry, he says, and he doesnt know what hes apologizing for; for not telling Cas this
sooner, for telling him at all, for working himself up like this.
You dont have to apologize to me, Cas says and he falls back into a sitting position, and he
gathers Dean up in his arms, holds him close. Not for this. Never for this.
Being weak always necessitates an apology, but Dean will give it later in a way Cas will accept; a
blow job in the shower, a long massage before they go to bed, a new dinner. For now, hes going
to be selfish and stay in Cass arms and let him keep old nightmares at bay.
***
Its weird having plans on a Monday, and Deans a little on edge, because he cant help but worry
that dinner with dad and Benny is going to go too long, and hes going to be late to Cass, but he
knows how important this is to dad so he feels guilty about worrying how long its going to take.
By the time he gets to the diner, his palms are sweating, and his leg is jittery with nerves and
unused adrenaline, and he bumps into the Seat Yourself Sign and the menu holder, and he
almost crashes into a waitress, but she spins out of his way with practiced ease.
Easy there, boy, a gruff voice says, and suddenly theres a broad hand on Deans shoulder,
centering him. Deans initial reaction is to duck away from the stranger, to brush off the touch, but
the hand tightens slightly, and theres a friendly smile meeting him when Dean hazards a look up.
You must be Dean. Im Benny.
Theres no offered hand, probably because one of them is on Deans shoulder, guiding him to a
table in the back, and this is definitely not the introduction Dean was expecting. Bennys not what
Dean was expecting either. Hes a big guy, broad with a few day old scruff on his face, and hes
wearing suspenders which Dean thinks is weird, but Deans a t-shirt and worn jeans kind of guy
so he doesnt have a lot of room to be judging other peoples fashion.

They reach a small table, dads already sitting, and he gives a quiet hi when they show up and
then Bennys nudging Dean into the empty booth and sliding in after him, and Dean feels penned
in, the wall on one side, Bennys bulk on the other, and he taps his toe, a constant jiggling of his
leg thats only ramping up the pressure inside of him instead of being an outlet for it.
The table is silent, and Dean grows uncomfortable with each passing second. This was a terrible
idea. He never shouldve come. He and dad have enough problems talking when its just the two
of them, adding a stranger was just a bad idea. What the hell are they supposed to talk about? The
only thing they all have in common is dads drinking problem, and thats definitely not a good
dinner conversation.
I hear youre a mechanic, Benny says, and Dean picks up on the slow drawl this time, and he
wonders if that explains how close Benny is to him. Hes never spent much time down south, but
hes heard that folks are friendlier down there.
Dean shrugs. Its a job, only one I could get at first and now Ive gotten pretty decent at it. Had a
good background. He nods toward dad, because dads the one who taught Dean the basics.
Some of his fondest memories of dad were the days they spent poking around the Impala, dad
pointing out how the engine worked, what the different parts were, how to speak car.
John offers up a weak smile, the glimmer of happiness quickly drowned out by guilt and shame,
and Dean feels his own smile freeze and fade.
The waitress comes by, the same one Dean almost ran over, and she smiles at them and takes their
drinks, rattling off the beers they have on tap, and Dean wants desperately to order one, because
he needs something to take the edge off, but hes due at Cass soon, and he doesnt dare even
have a single beer.
Just waters fine, he says, and he paused for too long, and dads carefully shredding his napkin
and thats when it hits Dean that hes having dinner with two recovering alcoholics.
Dont have to hold back on our account, Benny says, and John gives a miserable nod that looks
like its been wrenched out of him.
Dean smiles at the waitress, because its reflex, its easy, and its better than looking at dad. Ill
stick with the water.
She nods and heads back to get their drinks; a water, a Coke, and a Mountain Dew.
Cant do Coke or Sprite anymore, Benny explains once shes gone. It tastes weird when its
plain now. And I was serious earlier. If you want a beer, get one.
Deans pretty sure thats a bad idea, because dads in his early stages of recovery, but he supposes
Benny is the expert when it comes to this. Not that Deans going to order one anyways. Im off
to work after this which means no alcohol for me.
More work? Benny asks.
Hes a bartender almost every night of the week, John says, a mixture of pride and regret and
pity in his voice.
Benny whistles, impressed. When do you find time to sleep?
Dean shrugs, and he casts his eyes about for something to focus on, for something to talk about,
because he doesnt like the attention on him. Bennys gaze is heavy, and it makes Deans skin
crawl like the mans going to see right through him. Its been a while since Deans been paranoid

like this, since hes has that gnawing fear that people are going to take one look at him and know,
but its back now, and its strong.
I work at a joint like this, Benny says, picking up the dead conversation with ease, like hes
used to steamrolling over awkward. Head cook. Add a little southern flare to all my dishes. Of
course, nothing beats my pie.
Dean perks up at that. Pie? he asks, reluctantly getting drawn in.
Benny grins. Oh yeah. Nothing like a homemade pie. My regulars know when to come in for
fresh ones. My specialty is cherry, but I make a mean pumpkin and even meaner blackberry.
Apple is Deans favorite, but really he likes any kind of pie. Chocolate silk is another good one.
Peanut butter silk is even better.
Benny laughs, fully bellied and delighted, breaking into Deans thoughts. Youre practically
drooling there, kid. Ill make sure to send a few slices home with John the next time he comes out
to visit me.
Dean blushes, for being caught and for the offer. You dont need to. Its fine. Im fine.
Course I dont need to. Doesnt mean Im not going to. You look like you could use a few more
good things in your life.
Does he really? Dean touches a hand to his cheek before he can help it. He knows hes getting run
down, that trying to balance everything is finally taking his toll, but he knows that hell be able to
hold up under the strain. Has to. Eventually things will calm down, and hell sleep better, and he
wont worry quite so much, and the worry lines and the dark circles will fade.
Hes starting school soon, John says. College courses.
Schools a good thing in these parts? Benny laughs again and shakes his head. I might have to
send whole pies with you, John. What classes are you taking?
Some basic pysch stuff. Dean shrugs. Its not a big deal. My brother wanted me to, and it was
easier to give in than fight him on it. Kids stubborn when he wants to be.
Bennys gaze flicks from John to Dean. Family trait?
Dean cracks a bit of smile at that. Oh yeah. Sams going to Stanford, you know.
Ive heard. Benny smiles in Johns direction now. Hes lucky to have all yall supporting him
like you do.
Dean doesnt think Sam would call himself lucky. Hes certainly excited to get out to California
and get started.
The waitress comes by with their drinks, giving a brief moment of respite from awkward
conversation. As soon as she leaves, theyre back to silence. Dean discreetly checks his phone.
***
I met my dads sponsor tonight, Dean says when Cas gets home. The table is set, dinner is
served, Cas is sitting, and Deans kneeling. Its familiar, its comfortable, its routine. Dean doesnt
want to give it up. He rests his head against Cass thigh and pretends he doesnt notice that Cas
turns to look down at him.

Did you? Cas asks after a brief pause. How was it?
He wasnt what I was expecting. Friendlier. Less grumpy, hardened, old man. Dean was
expecting dads sponsor to be like Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino, waving a rifle and barking at
kids to clear off his lawn. I dont like strangers knowing about my life. It doesnt feel right.
Hes not going to be a stranger for long if he stays on as your dads sponsor.
I guess. Dean doesnt want to think about Benny becoming a part of their lives. He likes their
family the way it is; dad, Sam, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo. Theres no space for Benny in there. But dad
needs him so theyre going to have to carve out a space.
What about your day? Dean asks, because he doesnt want to think about this anymore. He
turns his face up to look at Cas.
Cas spears a few tortellini, but he doesnt put them in his mouth. I had to fire someone today. It
was unpleasant.
Cas doesnt talk much about his work, but Dean cant remember a single positive thing hes said
about it. You dont like it there.
Cas shrugs. It could be worse. Lets talk about something different. I was thinking we could
watch a movie tonight.
Star Wars?
Cas laughs and ruffles Deans hair. You always vote for Star Wars.
Thats cause you never say yes.
Dean opens his mouth when Cas extends the forkful of tortellini even though hes still pleasantly
full from dinner earlier. Eating had been a good excuse not to talk which led to Dean eating more
of his dinner than he probably shouldve.
What about Indiana Jones? Dean says when hes done chewing.
Next youre going to suggest Air Force One?
Dean shrugs, a little smile tugging at his lips. What can I say? I have a thing for Harrison Ford
being a badass.
Should I be jealous? Cas asks, but hes smiling too. Hes still stroking a hand through Deans
hair, and its easy for Dean to relax into the touch, his body pliant as it rests against Cass leg.
Honestly, Dean doesnt care what they watch as long as Cas continues to touch him like this. He
hopes its the kind of night where Cas wants to lie side by side on the couch. Or maybe Dean will
get to curl up on Cass chest with one of Cass hands rubbing up and down his back. Maybe
theyll watch a boring movie and Deanll be able to get away with sucking Cas off in the middle
of it.
Thats a face that spells trouble for me later, Cas says. His hand slips down to cup Deans jaw
and tilt Deans head up. What are you plotting in that head of yours?
Dean shrugs, eyes purposefully wide, all faux innocence. Cas laughs and hauls Dean into his lap
and kisses him soundly.
Maybe well skip the movie altogether, Cas says. We havent visited the playroom in a while.

Deans cautiously excited about the possible change in plans. On the one hand, he likes the
playroom. On the other, its a Monday night and they usually save the playroom for the weekends
when neither of them has to go to work the next morning. Dean wonders if Cass day at work
affected him more than hes letting on.
Cas pulls Dean in for a slow, lingering kiss, then slides him off his lap. Go get ready. Im going
to finish eating then Ill meet you in there.
Dean wants to kiss Cas again. He wants to smooth the frown lines out of Cass forehead and ease
the tension from his shoulders. But, there are ways to do that besides kissing him. Dean can be
good. He can be obedient. He can be exactly what Cas wants him to be, needs him to be. Cas will
settle, because Dean will help him.
Dean smiles and slips into the other room.

Chapter 18
Theyre running behind their usual schedule, probably Deans fault because hed gotten handsy in
the shower, but Cas had let him and fucked him against the wall instead of a quick hand job so
Dean refuses to take all the blame. However, when Cas accidently dips his tie in his coffee, Dean
offers to get up and get him a new one so Cas can finish rushing through breakfast so hell get to
work on time.
Its strange seeing Cas out of control like this, watching him battle to stay calm, and Dean
disappears into the closet with orders to pick out the slate grey tie. Dean has to go pretty far back
in the closet to find the tie rack, and as hes grabbing the one hes looking for, he spies a trench
coat balled up on the floor tucked behind some empty shoe boxes. He wants to get down and
investigate, because the coat is tan and dirty and worn, and he cant imagine Cas wearing anything
like it. Cas is sharp suits and sharper ties.
Dean abandons it for now, promises himself to check it out tonight while hes making dinner, and
he goes back to Cas with the tie.
***
Dean feels a little guilty about poking around Cass room while hes not around, but Cas hasnt
told Dean any part of the apartment is off limits to him. Of course, he probably didnt count on
Dean snooping, but Deans curiositys been piqued and its not like theres much else for him to
do while dinner cooks.
The trench coat isnt balled up as Dean originally thought. Its wrapped carefully around
something heavy, what turns out to be a stack of books and folders. Theyre all art books, and
Dean flips through the pages, and the pictures are pretty he supposes; well, some of them are kind
of weird, but he doesnt recognize any of it.
He pauses on one picture; its weird that this is the one that stands out, because its darker than
some of the others hes passed, and theres fire and people dead and bleeding on the ground and
its not the kind of thing Dean would want hanging anywhere in his house. Under the picture is a
label The Triumph of Death by Bruegel. Now that Dean takes a closer look at the book, all the
pictures seem to be by this Bruegel guy. Theres a bunch of people in the snow, another with an
ocean in it, and theres a guy in the corner of the water falling in.
Dean abandons the books and flips open one of the folders. Its full of scrap pieces of paper, notes
scribbled all over them. There are things written in larger script and underlined like Influences
and Early Work and Demonological Paintings and it takes Dean a few minutes before he
realizes that hes looking at research. At Cass research. And theres a shit ton of it. Enough for
one of those monster papers people write to graduate with fancy degrees, and Deans fingers
pause on the papers, because he realizes this must have been what Cas wanted to run away and do
before Anna.
His suspicions are confirmed when he finds, at the bottom of the folder, a binder clipped sheaf of
papers. The top one is simply titled Pieter Bruegel the Elder: A Comprehensive Study, and it leads
into a table of contents and what turns out to be rough draft of sorts. Its marked up in red and
green and even purple, and its all the same handwriting which Dean recognizes as Cass.
Dean gets caught up in reading about Bosch and his influence on Bruegels painting and how it
led to the demonological period, and somewhere in there the timer goes off, and Dean wanders
into the kitchen, reading about The Garden of Earthly Delights. He turns the potatoes over and

hops up on the counter and keeps reading. He skips the stuff about brush strokes and schools, the
stuff that he doesnt get the significance of, but he devours all of the symbolism and description
and influences, and he gets so immersed in it that he almost jumps out of his skin when the front
door opens.
Dean scrambles off the counter, but he cant do anything about the manuscript he has in his hands
or the trench coat thats somehow ended up in the kitchen with him as well. Its draped over one
of the island chairs, and Cass eyes hone in on it immediately, and theres a flicker of pain then
annoyance in his eyes before his face smoothes out.
Get bored? he asks, and theres no emotion in his voice, but Dean got the small glimpse, and he
knows Cas isnt as unaffected as hes pretending to be. And maybe Dean should let this drop, but
he doesnt. Instead, he drops the draft on the table.
This is really good.
Its unfinished.
So why not finish it?
Cass lips press together at that, and his fingers curl around his briefcase. Its the past. Please put
it away.
Does it have to be?
Cass eyes snap up, definitely angry now, and not only from Deans continual pushing. We had
this conversation, Dean. This is what I wanted to do before Michael took over my life.
So take it back.
Cas snatches the papers from the table, and he wraps them up in the trench coat, but Dean doesnt
miss how gentle Cas is with the papers, with the coat even though hes angry. Why do you
care?
Youve been pushing me since the beginning to do something with my life, Dean says, and
now Im pushing back. The fact that youve been sitting on this for years tells me it still means
something to you. Youve done Michaels thing for long enough. Why not do something for
yourself? Dean takes the potatoes out of the top oven and the steak strips out of the bottom oven,
and he sets them to cool.
Thought that was why I hired you.
The words are like a punch to the gut, and Deans glad hes already set the potatoes on the counter
or theyd be rolling across the floor right now.
Dean, Cas starts but Deans shrugs him off.
I should put these away. He eases the trench coat wrapped parcel out of Cass hands, and Cas
doesnt think to hold on until Deans already got sole possession of them. And Ill get undressed
and everything. Dinners ready if you want to start eating.
Deans proud of how even he keeps his voice, and how his steps are steady as he heads back into
the closet. Its been a long time since hes thought of this as a job, and its been even longer since
hes thought of himself as a thing. He tucks the coat back where he found it, and he takes a minute
to pull himself together before going to the entryway. Its not like Cas said anything untrue. Just
because Deans been deluding himself is no reason for him to get upset. Cas is paying him to be

here, to be whatever Cas wants.

Dean isnt here to learn about Cass life or prod him into pursuing things that interest him. Deans
here to get on his knees or his back and do his job. Dean pulls his pants down in a rough
movement, but he carefully folds them before he puts them in their cubbyhole. His fingers hesitate
on his collar. It marks him as Cass; a thing, a possession, something to be used and then cleaned
off and put away. His fingers falter on the buckle, and it takes him three tries to get the collar
secure, and it sits heavy around his neck, something hes never noticed before. He gives it a tug,
but it doesnt do much to help.
He returns to the kitchen where Cas is already eating, and Cas holds up a bite of potato in offering
but Dean shakes his head and folds to his knees. Job, he reminds himself. Nothing more.
***
Deans a wreck at the garage the next day, and its a miracle he makes it through his shift. Its
mostly attributed to the fact that he keeps entirely to himself, and he promises himself a strong
drink as soon as he gets off shift.
Its a bad idea. Actually, its a monumentally stupid idea, but it keeps Dean somewhat functional
at the garage, and it keeps him from flopping down on his bed and falling asleep the moment he
gets back to the house.
Instead, he grabs the Jack Daniels and heads out back where hes least likely to get caught. Its a
habit leftover from when he was younger and sneaking drinks from dads stash, but itll serve him
well now. He doesnt want to talk to anyone, doesnt want to explain why hes got a fifth of
whiskey clasped in his hand at quarter til five.
Fuck Cas, he thinks, untwisting the top. And fuck Dean for thinking he could actually make a
difference in someones in life. For stepping over a line he knew better than to cross. For being the
biggest idiot on the planet. When this was a one-night thing, he was used to feeling like he was a
convenient body, because thats what he was. He rented himself out for a few hours and
sometimes he woke up hating himself the next morning and sometimes he didnt, but he didnt
expect Cas to come at him like that. He shouldve. Deans still rented out, its just a long term
lease sort of thing. Cas pays him for the right to treat Dean however he wants. And if he wants to
remind Dean of that fact then hes allowed to.
This doesnt look suspicious at all. Benny plops down on tree stump, and Dean nearly jumps
out of his skin. For a guy as big as Benny is, he doesnt make a hell of a lot of noise.
Just trying to be respectful, Dean says, and he tucks the bottle closer to himself.
Benny gives him a look. Dont try and bullshit me. Youre drinking in secret which is never a
good sign. Trust me, I know. So whats going on?
Dean looks at him, incredulous, before he bursts out in a short, staccato laugh. Right. Because
Im going to talk to you. No offense, buddy, but youre my dads sponsor, not mine. I dont have
to share all my problems with you.
Benny looks encouraged which is definitely not the reaction Dean was looking for. So youre
admitting that youre having a problem? And youre solving it with alcohol?
Dean doesnt need this judgment right now. He just wants to drink his whiskey and plunge the
depths of his self-pity in peace. Its been a long time since I had a drink.
Youre not helping your case. Benny settles more comfortably, resting his back against the shed.

And you mentioned that at dinner. Not drinking because of your work. Decide you dont care
about your job anymore?
Deans stomach twists, and nausea rises up in him. He sets the bottle down before the sight of it
makes him vomit. Its more like his job doesnt care about him anymore, but Bennys a stranger,
and hes supposed to be taking care of dad, not wasting his time on Dean.
Jobs fine.
Benny nods. Right. Its new, right? To help put Sam through school?
Not that new. I started in January. Things have been rough, but theyll get better.
Youre a tough kid, Benny says. That doesnt mean you have to do everything on your own.
Not a kid.
No, Benny agrees, and theres something almost sad in his voice.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, and it isnt the most comfortable silence Deans ever been in,
but it isnt completely uncomfortable either. It just is, and Dean contemplates talking, because he
needs to tell someone before the words burst out of his skin, and he contemplates taking a swig of
whiskey then offering it to Benny to be a bastard, and he even contemplates pulling out his phone
and texting Cas that he wont be in tonight.
He does none of those.
Eventually, he stands and stretches and points to the house. I need to go fix up dinner. You
staying out here?
Ill come with. Maybe help out.
Deans shoulders stiffen. He doesnt need Bennys help making dinner. Deans been making
dinner for the family since he was old enough to reach the microwave. Dont feel like you have
to, youre a guest, he says when what he means is I can take care of my family on my own.
Little more than that, Benny says with a bit of a smile. Im going to be around here fairly often
now. Your fathers making good progress.
Dean flashes a smile he doesnt feel and goes straight to the fridge for the sausage and peppers he
cooked up the other night. He bangs a few things around while hes doing it, and as soon as hes
got the glass dish in the oven Benny says, You dont like me very much. Theres no judgment,
no anger, he just states a fact.
And Dean probably shouldnt be honest, look how well that had worked for him last night, but
hes tired of secrets and tip toeing around feelings, and its a relief to turn to Benny and say,
True. Mostly because I dont know you.
And Im not family. Benny smiles at the shock on Deans face. Im not an idiot. I dont know
everything about you guys, but Im learning. Familys important and everyone else are outsiders. I
get it, but Im not here to hurt you. Im not here to hurt your father. You dont have to trust me
right away, but realize that Im not leaving anytime soon.
Dean laughs at the last part. Everyone leaves. And always sooner than they promise.
***

Things are awkward. Dean cant slip into his headspace as easily as he used to, and Cas is
tentative around him, and his uncertainty makes Dean uncomfortable, makes him too aware to
sink into the moment, and its a vicious cycle that Dean cant find a way to break out of. Dean
hadnt realized how easy they were together until they arent anymore.
Dean considers calling Gabriel at some point, but he doesnt know how to explain what
happened, and secretly, hes afraid Gabriel will tell him to quit. Dean tells himself that if this keeps
up the hell put feelers out for a new position, but he hopes he wont have to. No job goes
smoothly all the time, and this is a job. Cas was very clear about that. They just need time to settle
back into a routine, to figure each other out again.
And, even if things stay awkward, its not like theyre bad. Cas has still never done anything to
make Dean feel afraid or unsafe, and its hard to have this when he remembers that, but not
impossible.
Anyways, Deans fidgeting, nervous to ask Cas something that wouldnt have bothered him
before, and he doesnt like the anxious twist of his stomach, the way his palms start to sweat.
Uh, Cas? Deans hands flutter against his thighs, and he forces them still as Cas looks away
from his dinner and down at where Dean is kneeling. Graduation is the second Sunday in June,
and there are some people coming up for it, and we were going to go to dinner. Could I come in a
little later that night? I dont have to stay out for too long. I just
Its fine, Cas says, Of course its fine. He says it too quick, and they both know it if the wince
on Cass face is anything to go by. Cas takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising with the inhale
and falling with the exhale, and he looks more settled, more him, and Dean finds himself relaxing
in response. Your brother is graduating from high school. Its a big deal. Take the whole night
off.
Before, Dean thinks he wouldve protested, because he liked his nights with Cas, and he liked
their mornings even better, waking up with an arm wound around his waist, with his head tucked
underneath Cass chin, the way they moved about the room in tandem, never in each others way
because theyd figured each other out. But theres a cloud of not quite right hanging over
everything they do now, and maybe it wont be so bad to have some time off. Besides, Dean
hasnt seen Ellen and Jo in a while, and itll be nice to have some time to catch up.
Cas sighs, a barely perceptible exhale, but Dean catches it, and he waits for Cas to say something,
but it never comes. Instead, he finishes his dinner, puts his dishes away, and goes over to the
couch. Watching TV has become a common part of their routine since the fight, and Dean
automatically goes to his knees.
Cas taps him on the shoulder. Up here, he says once Deans turned to look at him, and he pats
his lap. Dean gets back up, and he goes to sit down, but Cas tugs on his wrist until Dean faces
him. Like this. Cas draws Dean in by the hips until Deans straddling him, and theyre close,
and Dean has nowhere to look but Cass face unless he turns his head, and he has a feeling that
Cas wont let him get away with that.
Cass hands rest lightly on Deans hips, and this is another one of the little things that have been
off. Cas still touches Dean, of course he does, but its always with the reservation hes showing
now, like hes not sure he can or that he should, and Dean would rather Cas gouge angry red lines
into his skin than hold back like this.
Im sorry, Cas says, and Deans head whips up, because of all the things hed been expecting,
that wasnt even on the list. Im sorry for taking my anger out at you when you didnt deserve it,
and Im sorry it took me so long to stop being an idiot and apologize. You caught me off guard,

but thats no excuse.

Its my fault. I shouldnt have been going through your things.
Im the one who sent you in there, remember? One of Cass hands cards through Deans hair,
and Dean cant help but lean into the touch. You were curious, and Ive never asked you not to
be. I dont want you not to be. That was a dream I tucked away a long time ago, and I wasnt
expecting to see it again. Im glad you forced me to, though. Ive always wanted to be a college
professor. Its probably what makes working for the Network so miserable. I know that it isnt
where I want to be, and maybe its time I did something about it.
A professor? Dean asks, and he thinks he might be able to see it.
Has to be college, Cas explains. His hands run down Deans back down, touching on the knobs
of his spine, sweeping over his shoulder blades, bringing him closer to Cas. I want them to want
to be there. I want to teach and lecture but only to people who want to listen. Art History is good,
because you dont take that just because. The people who take those classes want to be there. I
want to get my Phd. Finish my thesis and all that and then maybe Ill start looking to see if there
are any open positions. Michael will throw a fit, but you were right. Its about time I take my life
back from him.
Cass fingers brush the collar, and Dean stills, something Cas doesnt fail to notice. His eyes dip
down, to the soft leather, then back up, and Dean hopes his face is schooled into some kind of
blank mask.
Do you want this off? Cas asks, and he slips a finger beneath the leather, and Deans pretty sure
this isnt a trick question, but hes not positive so he stays quiet, evaluating. You dont like it
when I touch it anymore. Because of what I said. Cass finger slides until its resting over the
thud of Deans pulse, and it jumps against the pressure, like its reaching for Cass touch.
No, Dean whispers, and he drops his eyes to the throw pillow Cas is half-sitting on. Its a deep
emerald green, and the threads got a bit of a shine to it. Dean should want it off, and part of him
does, but the bigger part of him wants it to stay on and wants it to mean something different. He
wants possession, but not the kind hes gotten the past week or so where he feels like nothing
more than a reward for Cas getting through another day at work, where he feels like he could be
anyone, any body and it wouldnt make a difference. He wants to go back to feeling special, to
being cared for, but he doesnt know how to ask for that. And hes not sure its something that can
just be turned on. Part of the problem he thinks theyve been having is theyre trying too hard and
it only ends up making everything more stilted, only makes it obvious how much it isnt what it
was.
Im sorry, Cas says again, and he presses his face against Deans neck, and he clutches Dean to
him. I told you I would never hurt you in a way you didnt like, and I did. I
Dean cuts him off with a kiss, because he cant stand to hear Cas say those words again. People
dont apologize to him. Life just doesnt work like that. Hes the one who screws up, hes the one
who needs to make amends, and the words sound even more foreign coming from Cass lips. He
needs it to stop before his world gets even more upended than it already has.
Dean, Cas speaks his name against Deans lips, and he turns his head, presses a kiss against the
corner of Deans mouth. I
Please dont. Deans grateful that theyre not looking at each other anymore. Its bad enough
that his hands are shaking, that his stomach is doing the flip flop of nausea again. You dont have
anything to apologize for. Its my fault. Not yours. Never yours. Especially not yours. Cas is

control and perfection and careful, deliberate action. Deans the one that needs to be reigned in,
reminded of his place, told to be good. You didnt say anything that isnt true. Deans the one
who overreacted and made this into a big deal. Everything wouldve been fine if he hadnt let his
feelings get hurt. If he hadnt had feelings to get hurt in the first place.
Before Dean has time to register what the hell is even happening, Cas has him on his back on the
couch, and Cas is leaning over him, eyes edged with anger. Dean should probably curl up or try to
get away or something, because last time Cas was angry it didnt go so well for him, but Cass
hands, while pinning Deans hips in place, arent biting into his skin, arent shaking with tension.
Cas is angry, but hes in control so Dean stays where he is and waits.
Dont say that. Dont think that. Dont, Cas cuts himself off and he kisses Dean with the force
of his feeling. He takes the breath from Deans body, and he keeps kissing until Dean is
lightheaded and desperate, and trying to pull Cas down to lay across him instead of kneeling over
him, and there are these pathetic sounds in the back of Deans throat that hell be embarrassed
about later, but not now. Not when he needs, not when hes finally being given what he wants.
Cass hands on him, Cass knees bracketing Deans thighs, Cass mouth on his.
Cas pulls back, and he presses a finger to Deans lips when he tries to follow, because Dean
doesnt want to talk anymore. He doesnt care if all they do tonight is kiss. He wants that mouth
back on him. He wants Cas on him.
I care about you, Cas says, and he lays his hand over Deans chest, watches the rapid rise and
fall as Dean tries to get his breath back. More than you think I do. Much more. Something
painful flashes across Cass face at that. I dont want you to ever doubt that. If you want me to
stop apologizing then I will. But only if you promise to believe that I didnt mean what I said.
Youre important to me. You, Dean Winchester. I
Theres a flood of emotion in Cass eyes, and Dean thinks he knows whats coming next, and he
cant. Not now, probably not ever. His head is turned around as it is. He cant take anything else.
So he surges up, kisses the confession away, and Cas lets him. Theres a brief moment of
hesitation, Cass lips still against Deans, his hands in a rigid hold against Deans hips, but then he
kisses back, and the moment is gone.

Chapter 19
Dean doesnt get a chance to cook for Cas until Monday, but he makes sure to stop at the grocery
store on the way to Cass, because hes going to make his signature burgers. Its the first time hes
making them for Cas, and he knows Cas wont get the significance, but thats okay. It takes him
the full hour to get everything made, and he ends up making four burgers even though hes sure
Cas wont eat them all, because it seems like a waste to only make two.
He has everything plated, and hes naked and kneeling by the time Cas gets back, and its a small
thing, but it settles him, the fact that hes ready when Cas gets home. It means, though, that he has
nothing to do but wait as Cas comes into the kitchen and sets his briefcase on the table.
The upside is that Dean gets to see Cass face when he first realizes whats for dinner. Dean
hadnt expected burgers to be a big deal, but Cass entire face lights up when he sees them, and he
drops his suit jacket on the table instead of carefully folding it over the back of a chair, and he sits
down and digs into his burger with unbridled enthusiasm. He actually moans around the first bite,
and he stretches his mouth wider to bite off even more, and Dean thinks he finally has a good idea
of what he looks like eating when he watches Cas chew with too much in his mouth.
It isnt until Cas has devoured half his burger that he seems to remember he isnt alone in the
room. He looks down at Dean and speaks through the mouthful of burger hes got. These make
me very happy. Its almost the perfect sentence, but Dean breaks out into a wide smile anyways,
and he knocks his head against Cass knee and lets Cass pleasure and gratitude warm him. Like
hes a mind reader, Cas drops his hand to Deans hair and says, You make me very happy.
Deans eyes open wide, and he checks Cass face for any sign that hes mocking him or not being
completely serious, but there is none. Hes open and honest, and Deans overwhelmed with the
feelings that rush through him, and he has to drop his gaze, because he cant handle what its
doing to him.
He makes Cas happy. He, Dean Winchester, makes Cas happy. He turns his smile into Cass knee
and winds his arm around Cass leg.
***
Ellen and Jo are at Bobbys when Dean gets back from Cass Saturday night. Hed completely
forgotten they were coming, but everyone is around the dinner table when he gets home; Jo, Ellen,
Bobby, Sam, dad, and even Benny. Bennys been around a lot or dads been out with Benny, and
Dean still isnt Bennys number one fan, but he can put on a smile on his face now for Sam. Dean
isnt going to ruin Sams big graduation weekend by fighting with Benny or by adding to the
tension thats already risen up, thick, in the crowded living room.
Dean! Jos out of her seat in a flash, and she throws her arms around him and squeezes, and
Deans air is pushed out of his lungs and when the hell did she get so strong?
Yo-yo, he says with a grin and he ruffles her hair, mussing up the perfect part, and she scowls
and kicks him in the shin. It hurts, but Dean doesnt lose his smile, because she hasnt changed
that much. Theyd called her JoJo until they found out about the singer, and Jo threw a fit, because
her nickname wasnt original anymore so Dean had, naturally, taken to calling her yo-yo, and its
worth the kicks for how angry it gets her.
He gets a hug from Ellen next, and she clutches him tight to her chest, and she smells like flour
and apples and a hint of cinnamon, and Dean has to force himself to step back, and he awkwardly

drops his hands to his sides and wishes he couldve hugged her for a little longer. Good drive?
he asks as he heads into the kitchen to grab a soda, because he needs to hold something in his
hands, and what he really wants is a beer, but thats not fair to dad. Anyone else want
something?
The drive was fine, and Bobby took care of us. Ellen holds up a can of Sprite when Dean turns
back to look, and she laughs at the surprise on his face. The house doesnt fall apart when you
arent around. Good thing too.
Really? Dean asks, but its a rhetorical question, and he doesnt wait for the answer before
going to get a Sprite of his own. Sam hasnt given him a hard time about working in a while, and
Bobbys given up on talking to him about it, and Dean knew Ellen was going to bring it up, but
he hadnt expected it so soon. He shouldve known. Ellen isnt the kind of person to beat around
the bush. If she has something to say, shes going to say it.
Dean grabs the last Sprite from the fridge which means he has to go rummaging through the
pantry to grab a few more to stick in. He shouldve known better than to trap himself in a small
room, because when he turns around, Ellen is blocking the exit, and she has her serious face on.
Its the same one Dean was treated to after getting suspended for punching a kid who was teasing
Sam, the same one he got after he let Jo and Sam run off into the woods unsupervised, and theres
an apology on the tip of Deans tongue even though hes not quite sure what hes done wrong.
How you holding up? Ellen asks.
No lecture on how Im doing too much? Dean asks. And here I was, all cornered and ready for
it.
Is there a point to it? We both know if there was another way, youd have taken it. Im not going
to tell you youre doing too much, because you already know it, and theres nothing you can do
about it. So instead, Im asking how youre doing, and I expect you to answer.
Im still standing, arent I?
Ellens frown deepens. Bobby hasnt asked any questions, because hes a coward, but Im not. I
own a bar, Dean, so I know that youre not going to make Sams school payments from picking
up a few hours a night. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
Damn it. Deans palms start to sweat, and he cant help but catalogue the quickest escape.
Nothing illegal.
Nothing illegal? Ellen blows out a breath. Was that supposed to be comforting? Hell, boy
Im not a boy, Dean snaps. Hes been taking care of his family for years, and maybe Ellen could
get away with calling Dean that when they were staying with her, when she made his lunch and
laid it on the counter next to Sam and Jos; when she explained fractions to him through baking
and he had to multiply by and whenever they doubled a recipe. But now? Deans grown up
since then, and hes sick of being called kid and boy, because hes not. Hes the only thing
holding his family together.
Youre right. Ellen drags a hand through her hair. Im sorry. But Dean
Dean shakes his head. Dont ask, Ellen. You dont want to know, and I dont want to tell you.
Its not illegal, and its going to put Sam through college. Thats all you need to know.
The thing about Ellen is that she wont push unless she needs to. She trusts Dean, and she takes
what he says and nods, and Dean thinks the conversation is over. Hopes the conversation is over.

Thats not all I need. Are you safe?

Deans not sure what she thinks hes doing, and its probably best if he doesnt dwell on it too
long. He nods. I am.
Okay.
And thats the end of that. Ellen helps him carry the Sprites into the kitchen and then they join
each other in the living room.
***
Graduation itself is pretty boring. The highlights are teasing Jo about wearing a dress and seeing
Sam walk across the stage. They all stand up when Sams name is called, and Dean puts his
thumb and finger in his mouth and whistles as loud as he can, and Jos jumping up and down and
screaming next to him, and Sam must hear them, because he ducks his head like hes embarrassed
and almost ends up tripping over the microphone cord.
The principal hands him his diploma, and Sam walks back to his chair as the next kid is called,
and Deans chest is so swollen with pride there almost isnt any space for anything else.
Thats my boy, John says, and Deans smile falters for a moment, but then he sees Sam flop
down into his chair, and he takes up so much space that the girl next to him has to squeeze closer
to her friend, and Dean pushes aside old insecurities and wishful thinking. Today is about Sam
and what hes done, not about Dean and what hes failed to do.
Dean squares his shoulders and fixes his smile and in no time theyre rushing the field to try and
find Sam, and its a contest Dean easily wins. His prize for being the first one to Sam is that he
gets to snatch Sams cap away and then Sams chasing him around the Astroturf, dodging other
graduates and their families.
Dean gives up once he reaches the end zone, and when they were younger, Dean would take
things from Sam and hold them up above his head where he couldnt reach, but that obviously
doesnt work anymore so Sam just snatches his cap back and huffs out a long-suffering, jerk,
that comes out more fond than anything.
Bitch, Dean says back, and he grins and they go back to find everyone so they can go to dinner.
***
They go to Buca for dinner, and they get a truly ridiculous amount of food and Deans stuffed full
and happy by the time theyre piling back into their cars. They get back to the house to say their
goodbyes to Ellen and Jo and then Sam takes the Impala and drives to TeamWorks, the local
sports complex, for Project Graduation, and Benny goes home and suddenly its just Dean, dad,
and Bobby.
Even that doesnt last long. Bobby sits down to the TV with a beer, and dad goes to his room, and
they have Sunday night routines that Dean doesnt know, that he isnt a part of, because hes not
usually here on Sunday nights. Unsure what else to do, he goes upstairs, but his room feels empty
without Sam in it. It feels too big and too dark, and like it isnt his.
His phone is flipped open, and hes on Cass entry in his contacts before hes fully aware of what
hes doing. He shuts his phone, because its stupid to call Cas. He has the night off, and Cas
probably doesnt even want to hear from him. Dean lasts five minutes before his phone is open
again, because this is Bobbys house not Deans and with Sam gone, whats here for him?

The answer is nothing, and Deans hitting the call button before he can change his mind.
It takes a few rings for Cas to pick up, and Dean spends the whole time working himself up into a
panic. What if Cas doesnt want to talk to him? What if hes enjoying his night free of Dean?
What if he has people over? What if
Hello, Dean.
Cass voice cuts off Deans worries, and his stomach does a flip then this weird twist thing,
because he hadnt actually thought Cas would pick up the phone. He thought hed be too busy or
just not want to, but now hes on the other line, and Dean doesnt know what to say, and theres a
reason he avoids talking on the phone.
Uh, hey Cas. What are you up to?
What are you up to? Really? Thats what he goes with? Fuck, hes a loser.
Reading. Theres no judgment in Cass voice, and Dean can hear the rustle of pages, as Cas
slides a bookmark in to mark his spot. And then theres more movement, presumably while Cas
puts his book away, and Deans both pleased by the attention Cas is given him and dismissive of
it.
If youre doing something I can just hang up. I didnt mean to bother you.
Youre not bothering me. How was dinner?
Dinner was fine. Sam couldnt stop smiling the whole time, this giant grin stretched across his
face, and classmates kept showing up and every time one of them walked by the table they would
exchange congratulations, and Sam would light up even more.
Youre back early. Did you escape from the celebrations?
Naw, theyre over. The school puts on this overnight thing to keep all the graduates from doing
anything stupid so Sams there, and Ellen and Jo headed back home. Im in Sams roommy
roomour room. Whatever. Im here and I dont know what to do with myself. It sounds kind of
pathetic when he says it. This is his house, and he should be able to handle amusing himself for a
few hours before bed, but maybe thats the problem. It isnt his house, and even if he and Sam
share the room it isnt really Deans room. Not when he spends his days at the garage and his
nights at Cass.
He should be worried that home doesnt feel like home anymore, but he doesnt want to worry
right now, he doesnt want to feel down, so he shoves the thoughts aside and focuses on Cas
instead. What were you reading?
A biography on Bruegel. I dont remember enough to start working on my thesis again. I have to
review and reread everything. Frustration is evident in Cass voice. It will take a long time
before Im ready to write again. When do you start your classes? I assume it would be soon.
The tenth.
You sound remarkably calm about that.
Of course I am. Why wouldnt Dean be? And then his words catch up to him, and he realizes
that today is the ninth which means tomorrows the tenth and, Oh shit. Thats tomorrow!
Cas laughs, a full body laugh that reverberates through the phone. Thats more like what I was

expecting.
This isnt funny. Dean jumps off his bed and turns in circles, trying to take in what he has in the
room. Does he have anything useful? Does he even own a pencil? Im not ready. I dont have a
notebook. I cant do this. This was a mistake. Hes not cut out for school. If it werent for Cas, he
wouldve forgotten that he was even supposed to go. Does Bobby know? Is he expecting Dean in
the garage tomorrow? Probably. And Dean cant bail on Bobby. Not after all the shit hes gone
through with dad. Dean calms down a little, because if Bobby needs him then he cant go to
school and thats better. Thats safe. He knows the garage. Hes comfortable there.
You can do it, Cas says, voice cutting through Deans panic. You can and you will. If you
dont have the proper school supplies then you can take them from your brother or you can walk
down the street to the nearest CVS. I doubt youll need more than a pen and a notebook on the
first day.
I dont even know if I can go. I might not have the time off work yet. Besides, I cant just take
Sammys stuff while hes gone. Its best if Dean doesnt go. Hes not cut out for school anyways.
Hell continue living his life the way hes been living it, and Sam might be a little disappointed,
but hell get over it, and no one else will care.
Stop making excuses. You can do this. Double check with your boss that youre not scheduled to
work on Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays anymore and get the supplies you need for class
tomorrow. And make sure you bring it all to my apartment.
What, youre going to be checking my homework?
Hardly, but Im sure youll have assignments, and Im working on my thesis again. We can do
work together.
Oh. Dean hadnt thought about it, but it makes sense, and it means hell have time to do his
homework. Of course, homework time comes at the expense of other things. Will we be studying
a lot?
Cas laughs like he can sense the direction of Deans thoughts. Some but you dont have to
worry. Youre far more interesting than Bruegel.
I dunno, Dean says and theres a teasing lilt to his voice. I read your rough draft, you seem to
be pretty into the guy.
Not the way Im into you.
Dean groans at the obvious double entendre. Youre terrible.
I prefer master linguist.
Dean laughs again, and the unease about tomorrow drains away.
***
It turns out Bobby did know that Deans classes were starting up. In fact, he has Deans entire
school schedule taped up next to his work calendar, and Sam has a bunch of extra school supplies
in one of his desk drawers, and even though everythings set and Dean has everything he needs,
hes still a nervous wreck as he heads into his first college course of his life.
Its Psych 101: General Psychology, and Dean gets there on the early side so only a few of the
seats are taken. The desks are attached to the chairs which Dean thinks is annoying, but he picks

one in the third row near the door. He doesnt want to be the overachiever in the front row, and he
doesnt want to be the slacker in the back, and he feels like the third row is safe. He takes out his
notebook and a black pen and does his best not to stare at the other students and guess how much
younger they are than him.
More students trickle in and at one point a middle aged man in a suit strides in, and he goes
straight to the white board but not before Dean notices the odd and somewhat unfortunate facial
hair the guy is sporting.
He writes PSYCH 101 in large letters with a fading black marker and then under it PROFESSOR
HENRICKSEN. His writing is legible which Dean is grateful for, and when the man turns
around, he clasps his hands behind his back and surveys the turn out. Dean shrinks under the brief
scrutiny he gets like the professor is going to realize at a glance that Dean doesnt belong and kick
him out, but the censure never comes.
After a moment, Professor Henricksen goes to the door and shuts it, and the class goes quiet.
Good morning, Henricksen says. Since youve all made it into college Im assuming you can
read, but in case youre feeling lazy today, my name is Professor Henricksen, and Ill be your
instructor for Psych 101. A little bit about me. I used to be a profiler with the FBI, and now I teach
college courses. If youre lucky, I offer a few higher leveled profiling classes for those of you
actually interested in psychology which Im guessing most of you arent. He smiles like hes
disappointed in them already. The rest of you, I have no idea why youre in this class but as long
as you dont make trouble, I probably wont fail you. Now, a little bit about you.
Deans still struggling to understand what the hell just happened when the first person introduces
himself. Henricksen is definitely the strangest teacher Deans ever had, and college is definitely
nothing like what he remembers of high school. They wind around the room giving their names
and facts about themselves, and Dean gets increasingly nervous as it gets closer to his turn. He
doesnt have any interesting facts about himself. He owns a pretty sweet car but only because his
dad got his license suspended. He has a genius little brother, but no one here cares about that.
When it gets to be his turn he says, My names Dean, and I like pie, which gets a few laughs
and a look from Henricksen like hes trying to puzzle out of Deans being difficult, but then its
Sally Mays turn and Deans pretty sure everyone forgets about him.
Now, this is a general psych class, Henricksen says as he passes out the syllabus, That means
were doing a brief overview of everything. Touching on a lot of things but nothing in detail
which is pretty useless if you ask me, but obviously, no asked me or I wouldnt be teaching the
class. The point of the class is to give you a taste of psychology so you can figure out whether you
want to pursue it more thoroughly. Read through the syllabus, buy your books, and do your work
for Wednesdays class. Someone starts to move to get out of their chair, and Henricksens lips
peel back in a smile. Hey, Ive still got a good hour left of teaching time. Take out your
notebooks. Were going to learn about the founding fathers of psychology.
***
Dean lets the familiar routine of cooking ease out his remaining nerves from the day, soothe his
leftover jitters, and by the time hes plating Cass dinner hes humming to himself. All in all, its
been a good day. Going to three college classes for the first time had been intimidating and
terrifying, but hes made it through them with only minimal embarrassment, and he has the syllabi
now so he knows whats expected of him and that makes him significantly more relaxed.
Youre in a good mood.

Dean looks up to see Cas in the kitchen, and he smiles as he sets Cass place at the table. I had a
good day.
Cas points to Deans spot next to Cass chair. Tell me about it.
Dean hesitates, his fingers on the waistband of his pants, but Cas shakes his head so Dean just
kneels. My first class of the day was psychology, and my professors name is Henricksen. He
used to be FBI or something, and he doesnt seem happy about the fact that hes teaching. I guess
I wouldnt be either if I were him. Its probably boring in comparison to tracking down killers or
kidnappers or whatever he did. I wonder why he stopped. Do you think he retired? Or quit? Or
was forced out?
Dean chatters away, about his professors, his classes, his classmates, how stupid the introduction
things are, and Cas listens patiently the whole time. After dinner, Cas settles down on the couch,
books and papers spread out around him, and Dean sits at his feet and rests a head against Cass
knee as he does his psychology reading. He takes detailed notes, and when hes done and Cas
shows no signs of being ready to pack up, Dean pulls out his Norton Anthology of Literature and
flips to the short story theyre supposed to be reading for his composition class.
When Cas finally declares himself done, its late and Deans sort of dozing off, head resting on the
couch cushion and Cass leg, one armed looped loose around the same leg.
It has been a long day, Cas agrees, ruffling Deans hair in an attempt to gently stir him to
movement. You ready for bed?
Mmm, Dean murmurs, and his closes his eyes and nuzzles the inside of Cass knee like hes
trying to settle into a more comfortable position.
Ah ah ah, Cas scolds, and he gives Deans head a bit of a push. No going to sleep on me. Not
until were in bed.
Beds so far away.
Im a cruel man. Cas sets his work aside, and he gives Deans arm a tug, and Dean reluctantly
gets to his feet and follows Cas into the bedroom. They brush their teeth then Dean gets into bed
while Cas changes into his pajamas and as soon as Cas is near the bed, Dean reaches out a hand
and reels Cas in. He throws a leg over Cass and wraps an arm around his waist and drops his
head to Cass chest, officially making sure that Cas wont be able to go anywhere.
Well then, Cas says, sounding amused as he pulls the comforter over them. I guess I better get
comfortable. Dean grins and snuggles in, and the last thing he remembers before falling asleep is
Cass quiet, Im proud of you.

Chapter 20
Chapter Notes

Warnings: reckless behavior, bad headspace, minor self-harm, safewording

The week passes in a blur. Deans at the garage one day, at class the next, and every night finds
him at Cass, the two of them curled up on the couch or spread out across the floor, doing work
together then going to sleep. Neither of them have the energy for much more, but Deans started to
feel that itch under his skin, the need to get taken apart and stitched back together. Its there,
clawing at the haze of sleepiness, at the blanket of first week nerves, striving to rise up above
everything hes preoccupied with, and he doesnt realize how bad things are getting until he gets
back from class on Friday to find Benny in his kitchen.
Hes gotten his first formal writing assignment in his composition class, and he spent all of his
Intro to Computers class worrying about it, and hes worked himself into a good I cant do this
panic by the time hes gotten to Bobbys. He doesnt know what the professor wants, and hes
pretty sure his interpretation of the text is obvious and shallow, and hes too worked up to even
think about how to start response let alone finish it, and seeing Benny in his kitchen, moving about
with ease and familiarity snaps something in him.
What the hell are you doing?
Benny pauses, a saucepan in one hand, the pepper shaker in the other, and he looks taken aback
by the hostility, but he recovers quickly. Making dinner.
Making dinner? Deans hand twitches, and he curls it into a fist.
Benny shrugs, easy, relaxed now, like he doesnt see the tension in Deans body or how hes on
the very edge of control. Youve had a busy week and
And what? You think I cant handle it? Thought youd step in and take over for me?
Woah, Dean. Benny sets the saucepan down, and he holds his hands up in a peaceful gesture.
You okay, buddy?
Im not your buddy. Dean can feel the anger sweeping up through him, and somewhere in the
back of his mind he recognizes that he cant let it win, that he needs to calm down, but he takes a
step towards Benny and all that rational thought disappears. And I dont need your help. I was
doing just fine taking care of my family before you came along. Except he wasnt. If he was,
then dad never wouldve had his breakdown, dad never wouldve met Benny. Deans looking at
proof that hes not enough.
Fuck. Deans hands curl around empty air, and his fingernails are too short to dig into his skin,
and he needs to feel something under his hands. He needs to break, to rip, to destroy, but theres
nothing in reach. Theres the kitchen table, theres Bennys face, but hed have to move and
Dean isnt even aware of the fact that hes got two fistfuls of his hair until he feels the sharp spike
of pain in his scalp.

Dean, Bennys voice is still worried, but theres a shift, hes worried for Dean instead of
himself, and the tone grates on Deans ears. He wants to block it out, wants to run away, wants to
tear the kitchen apart with his bare hands.
Shove it. I dont need your pity. I dont need you. Dad doesnt need you. Were fine.
Youre falling apart, and your dad does need me.
No, he doesnt.
Theres no fear in Bennys eyes when he meets Deans angry gaze. Yes, he does.
Dean has arguments and words and years of proof that all add up to Deans ability to take care of
his family, to pull them through shit storm after shit storm, but it all gets lost in the hard, confident
edge of Bennys words, and Dean forgets all of them. Instead, he lunges.
Benny, unexpectedly, moves into the attack, grabbing Deans arm and twisting his body with ease
until Deans face is slammed up against the wall, his arm pinned behind his back. Dean struggles,
but he knows enough about the position hes in that if he tries too hard, hes going to pop his
shoulder out of its socket.
Youre not going to win in a fight again me, Benny says, but theres strain in his voice like he
has to put some serious effort into holding Dean still. Youve never bothered to ask about my
life, but I was in a gang when I was younger and after that, I signed up with the army. Youre
strong, but Ive got years of experience.
Fuck you, Dean spits, but he knows when hes been beat, and his shoulders slump even as
unused adrenaline courses through his body. He shakes with it as Benny steps away, giving Dean
some space to breathe, the opportunity to drop his arms. Dean doesnt turn away from the wall.
Part of him trusts Benny at his back, the other part hopes that Bennys going to grab his shoulder,
flip him around, and slap him across the face.
He doesnt do either. Im not your enemy, Dean. Im not trying to make you feel threatened or
replace you. Im trying to help you shoulder a burden that never shouldve been yours to carry in
the first place.
I never asked for help.
No. And you never would have. You wouldve let yourself get torn apart first. Bennys voice
softens and he takes a step forward. You dont have to ask for it now, either. Its hereIm here.
You just have to let me.
Let him? Let him take over Deans family while Deans out trying to make enough money so they
can live comfortably, so Sam can go to college? Like hell Deanll let him. Dean rallies himself for
another fight, turning around, setting his jaw, but Benny shakes his head.
Im not going to fight you. Youre angry with me and thats fine, but Im not going to let you use
me to hurt yourself.
Deans eyes narrow, and his hands itch to wrap around Bennys neck, not to hurt him but to force
him to fight. Bennys a bear of a man, and Dean bets Bennys hands could leave some nice
bruises. Because Dean isnt going to step aside and let Benny take over his family, and hes not
going to walk away like a coward. Theyll settle this like men; with fists and kicks and if Dean
loses; well, then the best man takes care of the house.
I can take a lot more than you can think.

I, Benny takes a deep breath and leans back against the counter. Im not trying to threaten you
or question your abilities. Im just here to help.
Yeah, but if I was good enough we wouldnt need you. Dean pushes off the wall. Good luck
with dinner.
Dean! Benny calls, but Dean ignores him and goes upstairs to throw his bag together. Benny
might not give him the fight he needs, might be too scared to hurt him, but Dean knows someone
who isnt.
Dean gets to Cass way early which isnt a problem except that it means he has a lot of time on his
hands and not a lot to fill it with. Cooking dinner only takes so long, and Deans worked himself
into a pretty pathetic state by the time the door finally opens, signaling Cass return. Deans halftempted to stop him in the doorway and ask for a spanking or a rough kiss or something, but he
rarely gets what he wants when he asks for things like that directly. Its best to trick Cas into doing
what Dean wants.
Hey, Dean says, mustering up his most convincing smile. How was work?
It was fine. Glad its the weekend.
Me too. Dean kneels next to Cass spot and starts chattering away, mindless dribble that has
nothing to do with anything, the kind of talking he usually avoids. He keeps his tone too peppy
and speaks a little too fast, picking up the pace every time Cas looks like hes going to interrupt,
and Deans voice is starting to grate on his own ears so he doesnt know how it hasnt bothered
Cas yet.
Dean, Cas cuts off Deans impression of one of the girls in his class. I need a moment of quiet,
please.
Dean nods and Cass runs a distracted hand through Deans hair before going back to his dinner.
Dean presses his lips together and puffs out little bursts of air, and it only takes a moment before
Cas sighs, and Dean looks up to see him deftly undoing his tie. Dean tries not to look too eager as
he obediently opens his mouth for the makeshift gag. Hes hoping for a sharp yank of his hair,
maybe a few harsh words, but he gets neither, and it isnt long before he starts tapping his fingers
against his thighs. Its a quiet, barely there sound, but the kind that gets under your skin, driving
you mad, and Cas reaches out a hand and grabs the back of Deans neck, hauling him to his feet.
What has gotten into you tonight? Cas demands.
Theyre headed towards the playroom, thank goodness Dean thinks, and he forgets about the tie
and tries to give Cas a smart ass response, but it comes out muffled, and he gets a slap across the
face for the attempt.
Have you forgotten how to follow a simple instruction?
Dean drops his gaze, and he doesnt try to answer, because he doesnt want to make Cas too
angry. He wants to provoke Cas into some kind of response, but Dean also wants to be good. He
wants to make Cas proud. Just, right now, he wants to be hurt more than he wants to make Cas
happy. He wants Cas to strip away the fear and the uncertainty and Deans self-doubts. He just
wants Cas to pay attention to him, to prove that Deans worth time and effort, that Deans a person
who matters.
Cas pushes Dean down to his feet in the middle of the floor. Hands behind your back. Cas goes
to get a length of rope, and he expertly winds it around Deans wrists until theyre securely in

place. Deans body thrums with anticipation, excitement, but Cas presses something into his palm
and steps back with barely even a look at Dean. Now, Im going to finish my dinner in peace.
Dean doesnt fully understand whats happening until Cas is already out of the room. In his palm,
he has the buzzer, the thing they use when Dean cant speak or use his hands if he needs to
safeword out. Which means Cas is planning on being away for a while. Hes not going to punish
Dean in the way Dean needs. Hes going to leave Dean alone in here.
Guilt and shame and self-loathing sweep through him so fast he chokes on them, the tie
swallowing up his cry. Hes managed to piss Cas off, and he isnt getting what he needs, and isnt
that a great ending to a great day. Dean shouldve just been good. Shouldve kept his head down
and his mouth closed and taken what Cas chose to give him. But no. Deans pushy and doesnt
respect limits, and now he doesnt even get to be in the same room as Cas.
Hes unwanted.
Deans shoulders tremble with the strain of this new realization. This place has been his haven,
where he goes to be appreciated, to be admired and accepted, because for some reason Cas sees
something in Dean. But now all Cas sees is disappointment and failure. Dean shouldve known
better than to get his hopes up, because eventually thats what everyone sees. Sometimes he can
manage to distract them from it with a pretty smile, but it never lasts.
Fuck.
Dean rests his full weight on his calves and ankles, and he doesnt even try to fight the tears when
they come. Hes making a mess of Cass tie, but at this point, its not like it matters. Hes failed his
family, hes failed Cas, and to hell with everything. If Cas fires him for getting snot and saliva all
over his fancy tie then Benny can put Sam through college. That way he can finish taking over
Deans place in the family.
Deans place at Cass is at Cass feet, but Dean doesnt get to be there. Hes not even good
enough to kneel in the same room as Cas, and the thought makes Dean grind his wrists against the
rope. Its a welcome burn, a distraction from his thoughts, and he wonders how long it would take
to rub his skin raw. He wonders what would happen if at breakfast on Sunday he wore short
sleeves so everyone could see the rope burn. Would someone say something? Would they even
notice?
He cant breathe through his nose anymore, so hes pulling in lungfuls of air around the tie, and
opening his mouth like that makes the tie cut into the corners of his mouth, and he tries to focus on
that pain instead of the heavy weight of fuck up that presses down on his shoulders. Thats what
he came he for, wasnt it? He wanted to hurt. And well, right now hes hurting, just not in the way
he wants it. Does that make him selfish? Or just messed up?
Deans tempted to press on the buzzer, because he knows Cas will come straight back here,
maybe hell even run, and hell touch Deans face all gentle and hell ease the tie off, and its
everything Dean wants and nothing he deserves. If he wants Cass affection, he needs to earn it.
And that means seeing his punishment through to the end. Besides, what if Cas doesnt come? Or
what if he does, but hes so disappointed that Dean cant follow through on a simple task that he
sends him back to Bobbys?
More tears roll down Deans cheeks, and he hates that he cant wipe them away, that he has to
wait for them to soak into the tie. He hates the slow slide of water down his face, hates how he
doesnt have enough control over his own body to wipe away his own tears. If only hed been
better, he might have the use of his hands. Or would still be in the other room. Or would have an
actual functioning family.

Deans hands curl into fists, and the sound of the buzzer startles him, and he almost knocks
himself off balance and tips over. Shit. He hadnt meant to press it. Well, he wanted to, but he
shouldnt have. Dean bows his head, and holds himself straight, and he prays Cas will give him a
chance to apologize, to explain that he hadnt meant to press it. Because he needs to do this. He
needs to prove that he can listen, that he can do whats asked of him. Its not too much. He can
take care of Sammy and take care of dad, and he can definitely take care of Cas. He just needs to
get his head on straight and
Dean? Cass hands are frantic on Deans face, sliding back to undo the knot of the tie. Dean
hadnt even heard Cas come into the room. Thats probably not a good sign. Dean, what?
Cas gets the tie off and words tumble out of Deans mouth. Im sorry. Accident. I swear. Please.
Ill be good. I can be good. Put the tie back. Please. Dean knows he shouldnt be talking, but he
doesnt know how else to ask.
Youre crying, Cas says, and instead of retying the tie he undoes the rope at Deans wrists, and
as soon as he gets Deans wrists loose and sees the state of them, the red-rubbed skin, his grip
tightens. Dean. Cass free hand tips Deans head up, but Deans eyes slide away, unable to
make contact. What happened?
Dean shakes his head, because he doesnt want to talk, and he slumps forward, his cheek colliding
with Cass shoulder, but he barely registers the pain.
Shit, Cas says, and he loops one of Deans arms over his shoulder and helps Dean to his feet.
Come on. Lets get to the bathroom and well talk.
Dont wanna, Dean slurs, and hes tempted to go limp, because hes suddenly exhausted, and
its too much effort to hold himself up, but hes afraid hell bring Cas down with him so he leans
heavily on the other man and stumbles towards Cass bedroom.
Yeah, well, youre going to. Cas sits Dean down on the toilet and gets a bath running. When he
comes back, he kneels between Deans legs, his arms resting on Deans thighs, and if Dean wants
to look away then he has to put the effort into lifting his head so he doesnt, but he doesnt meet
Cass eyes either, just looks at the curve of his cheekbone. Its a nice cheekbone. Dean wonders if
this is going to be the last time he sees it.
Of course not, Cas says and Dean realizes he must be speaking out loud. Not good. Cas rips off
a piece of toilet paper to dab at Deans face with and his other hand cards through Deans hair.
Why would you think that? Whats going through your head?
Dean shakes his head and concentrates on keeping his mind blank. If he doesnt think anything
then he cant say anything wrong.
Theres nothing wrong to say, Cas promises, but I need you to talk to me. You called the scene
off. Youre crying and shaking and, Cass fingers loop lightly around his wrist, youve hurt
yourself. Something is obviously wrong, and I want to make it better, but I need your help.
Deans laugh bubbles out of him, somewhat hysterical. No one needs my help. No one needs
me.
That, Cass eyes flutter closed, Thats not true. That is so far from the truth. Dean, Cas cups
Deans face between his hands, You have no idea how important you are.
Dean rolls his eyes, but Cas presses a finger to his lips before he can say anything. And then he
pulls away, and Dean makes an aborted movement to keep him there, because hes needy and

pathetic, and he needs some kind of touch, but he doesnt deserve it. He shouldnt be getting
special attention for cutting out of a punishment. Thats not how this is supposed to work.
Come on, Cas pulls Deans hand, and Dean tilts his head to the side because Cas is now naked
and when did that happen? He goes with Cas, and Cas helps him step into the bathtub, and the
water is hot, and Dean breathes out a deep sigh as he sinks into the water, and he shouldnt
indulge, he hasnt earned it, but Cas holds him tight and doesnt give him a choice.
You havent gotten out of talking, Cas says, wrapping his arms around Deans waist. Did I do
something wrong?
No. Dean tries to break away, but Cas tightens his grip. Never. This was my fault. Im sorry.
Why arent you angry? You should be angry.
How could I be angry? Cas turns Deans face so theyre looking at each other. Youre scared
and youre hurting. You were off all evening. Did something happen before you came over?
Deans eyes flutter shut and just like that, his argument with Benny comes rushing back to him;
how infuriatingly calm Benny was, the rage and anger and helplessness that bubbled underneath
Deans skin, the urge to hurt or be hurt to feel something physical, something to take away the
edgy sense of desperation.
I wanted Benny to hit me, and he wouldnt.
Benny? Your fathers sponsor?
He just appeared in our lives, and he was supposed to be here for dad, but now hes studying
with Sam and chatting with Bobby, and he keeps trying to make dinner, and hes got everything
together, and I hate him. I wanted him to snap, to stop being so damn perfect, and I wanted him to
hit me. I wanted bruises and blood, and he wouldnt do it.
So you came here, and you acted out.
Im afraid my family isnt going to need me anymore. Dean sinks deeper into the water, so he
can tuck his head under Cass chin. Hes going to replace me. Ive got nothing to offer that he
cant do better. And then I thought, well, at least I still have Cas, but then you put me in the room
and you left and, Deans hands tremble, causing small ripples to break the tranquility of the
water.
Hey, Cas soothes, and he pulls Dean closer, presses a kiss to his forehead. Im here now,
okay? Were going to make this better. But in the future, Cas tips Deans head back so theyre
looking at each other, I need you to talk to me. Dont try to push me into something. Tell me
whats going on, ask me for what you want, and well work it out.
Dean nods, head heavy. Im sorry. I screwed a lot of things up today.
Nothing we cant fix. Now, if we stay in the bath, are you going to fall asleep on me?
Deans already having trouble keeping his eyes open so he nods, even as he mumbles, but I like
the bath.
Cas chuckles and runs a damp hand through Deans hair. I know you do. Its one of the rare
indulgences you allow yourself, but if you fall asleep Im afraid I wont be able to get you out.
Then I wont sleep. Contrary to his words, Dean curls in tighter, his head burrowing back until
hes resting on Cass shoulder and water laps at the underside of his lip.

You are such a liar, Cas says, but he doesnt make any more effort to move. Five more minutes
and then were getting into bed where you can sleep for as long as you want.
***
Deans wary the next morning, hesitant, and Cas sees it immediately, and he keeps things strict.
He directs all of Deans movements, in detail, and hes exact in making sure Dean follows through
and gradually they settle into something more comfortable, to the point where theyre both able to
get some work done in the afternoon. Cas is careful never to leave Dean alone in a room and
when hes out of eyesight, he makes enough noise for Dean to know where he is, and when they
do spread out to do work, Cas makes sure touch Deans ear every once in a while or nudge
Deans side with his foot, make some kind of contact so Dean knows he isnt being neglected.
By the time dinner is over, Deans feeling comfortable again, with himself, with Cas, where they
stand in relation to each other, and it makes him bolder, sliding onto Cass lap when they reach the
couch instead of kneeling between his legs and Cas raises his eyebrows, but he doesnt say
anything, just puts his hands on Deans hips and pulls until theyre as close as can be, foreheads
resting against each other.
Deans not sure who makes the first move, but they each tilt to the right and move in and then
theyre kissing, and Dean doesnt realize how much hes needed it until his entire body relaxes at
the first press of Cass lips. Even his muscles seem to exhale and he sinks deeper into Cass lap,
body molding to fit with Cass.
Cas makes an encouraging noise and threads his hands in Deans hair, not to direct him or tug on
the short strands, simply to hold him. They stay like this for a long time; hands roaming but
mouths staying put, sharing heat and air and space, wrapping up in each other until Deans not
quite sure where he ends and Cas begins. He kisses his thanks and gratitude along Cass jaw then
tips his head back so Cas can press forgiveness and acceptance into the sensitive skin of Deans
neck, and when Cass stubble scrapes against Deans neck Cas chuckles but moves back up to
kiss Deans lips, dragging them both down into a heady, almost drugged state.
Dean cant remember the last time he did this, kiss someone for the hell of it, for the sake of
kissing, not as something to get somewhere else. High school maybe? But even then he thinks
kissing was something to suffer through in order to slip a hand up a girls shirt or, if he was lucky,
maybe down her pants, and he tried very hard not to kiss any of the guys he picked up at bars.
Its kind of nice he thinks as Cas nips at Deans bottom lip. Theyre kissing because they enjoy it,
and Cas isnt trying to get anything from him, isnt kissing him with any kind of hidden agenda.
Hes doing it because he wants to, because Dean enjoys it, because it gives them a chance to press
close. Dean has both his hands pressed against Cass chest, and Cas has a hand curled around
Deans shoulder, and his palm is hot against Deans skin, like hes trying to burn a brand there.
Property of Castiel. Dean shudders and groans, and his mouth falls slack.
Dean slides his hands up to Cass shoulders, and hes kneading at the muscle there when the clock
in the hall chimes, startling him. He and Cas bump noses, and they huff out a laugh between them
even as Cass hands drop to Deans waist.
Its seven, Cas says as the clock chimes the time.
So? Dean asks and his lips are tingling and he licks at them and leans in for another kiss, but
Cas pushes at Deans hips.
Its seven, he repeats, and he looks like its painful for him to say it, and it takes Dean longer
than it should to realize what hes saying. Its seven. Deans shift is over.

Oh. Deans stomach drops out, and awkwardly climbs off Cass lap. His lips feel swollen and
sensitive, and hes sure his hair is sticking up in all directions. Right. He tries to pat down his
hair and is met with little success.
Cas catches Deans wrist before he can get too far away. If you need anything,
Dean smiles, despite himself. Call you. Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow night. He pulls away,
but hes pretty sure Cass fingers drag against his, desperate for as much contact as possible.
***
When Dean gets to Bobbys, he has a grin on his face that he cant shake, even when he walks in
on Sam, Bobby, dad, and Benny watching Gunsmoke reruns, the picture of perfect domesticity.
Well, perfect might be stretching it, but still, Deans able to meet Bennys eye and not want to
strangle him. He feels a little shame for acting like such a dumbass last night, but the angers
mostly gone.
Huh, Benny says, noticing Deans mood. Work isnt usually a de-stressor, but its done you a
world of good.
Dean continues to grin, doesnt try to come up with a lie or deflection. Hes pretty sure Bobbys
eying him with suspicion but thats fine.
You do look good, Sam says and he makes space on the couch for Dean. He waits until Deans
plopped down next to him to say, We should check the bar out sometime. Get a look at where
you work.
Panic wells up inside of Dean, quick and sure, but he chokes it off with a forced laugh. Right,
cause Im going to drag my underage brother to work with me. He doesnt mention that dad and
Benny are both recovering alcoholics, but the moment of silence that follows implies that
everyone in the room is fully aware of it.
Its Bobby that keeps the room from getting swallowed by awkwardness. And I dont need to
pay to make Dean get me a drink. Speaking of,
Bobby looks over and Dean just laughs and flips his off. Get off your lazy ass and get your own
beer.
You might want to head into the kitchen anyways, Sam says. There are cream puffs. Cream
puffs? Deans out of his seat in a second, and Sam laughs at his enthusiasm. Benny made them.
Theyre really good.
Dean hesitates, eyes flicking to Bennys to find Benny watching him, interested in Deans
reaction. I heard hes quite the baker, Dean finally says. Benny nods, like he recognizes and
accepts the apology Deans extended, and Dean goes into the kitchen to round up some dessert.
He even brings back a beer for Bobby, and they all settle in to watch TV.

Chapter 21
Chapter Notes

Warnings: low-self worth, self-emasculation (I'm not quite sure what to call this but
Dean gets in a bad place in a head and thinks some nasty things about himself)
The beginning has some carryover from last chapter, but then it's sex from there on
out.

Dean wakes up exhausted on Sunday, the stress of the weekend finally catching up to him, and he
stays in bed for a long time, staring up at the ceiling, trying to drudge up the will to move. Its one
of those mornings where his eyelids itch and are heavy so he closes his eyes, but his body is too
awake and aware to go back to sleep. Its only his mind thats tired, and he tries to curl up around
his pillow and go back to sleep, but it doesnt take long before his back aches and his legs twitch
with the need to get up and move and with a quiet sigh Dean pulls himself out of bed.
He pulls on a pair of socks and pads down to the kitchen to start breakfast. He makes eggs and
ham and tater tots, because this isnt the kind of morning for cereal. He needs to cook something,
needs to lose himself in something. So he scrambles eggs and bakes tater tots and thinks about
Benny and Cas and how this weekend has been a rollercoaster of feelings. Hes lost Fridays
anger with Benny and Fridays sense of helplessness and crushing worthlessness from Friday
night with Cas, but they still linger in the back of his head, waiting to rear their ugly heads.
Yesterday helped, Cas was gentle and caring and exactly what Dean needed but then there was
the couch before Dean left, when Dean didnt want to leave. And that shouldnt happen. That
cant happen.
He cant keep forgetting that this is a job, something he enjoys yes, but its not something
permanent. Its to put Sam through school, if it will even last that long. Cas is brilliant and
gorgeous and one of the best human beings Dean has ever met. Hes not in a relationship with
anyone, because the only people he meets are from work, and hes miserable there, but Deans
confident that as soon as the guy gets a university job or finds a place where hes passionate,
people are going to flock to him. And Dean doesnt have anything to compete against that with
except his looks, but those will fade and whos to say Cas wont get bored before they even get to
that stage?
Deans finishing up breakfast and wondering if he should wake everyone when Sam wanders
down, hair bed-rumpled and looking pissed. He thrusts Deans phone at him. Who the hell calls
before noon on a weekend?
Dean takes his phone, too surprised to do with it for a moment before bringing it up to his ear.
Uh, hello?
Well, youre a much more pleasant voice, Gabriel says, bright and cheery. That the little bro?
Gabriel? Dean shakes himself because what the hell? And then his stomach clenches in a
moment of blinding panic. Is Cas alright? Has something happened between last night and this
morning? Sunday is family day, but maybe he got in an accident on the way there? Or Cas told
Gabriel about Friday and wants to call it quits? Dread, thick and pervasive sinks deep in his
stomach.

stomach.
Gabriels laugh helps to ease some of it. Cas is fine. Actually just had a nice chat with him.
Yeah? Deans stomach knots up even tighter. This sounds like a set-up to a gentle youre fired
speech. He tilts to phone away from his ear and points to the breakfast on the table. Sam, thats
all yours. Sorry the phone woke you. Sam nods, sleepily accepting the apology, and Dean heads
out back for a little more privacy. It isnt until Deans safely nestled between a rusting Honda and
an engineless Civic that he says, You and Cas talk about me often, then?
Dont flatter yourself, Gabriel says, then gentler, more serious. You know my policy, Dean.
Cas and I were chatting, and he said I should call you and check in. Thats it. I have no idea why
or what happened, because Cas didnt give me details. Thats up to you.
Everythings fine.
Gabriel laughs but its short lived. Im not an idiot. Cas is a good dom, but more than that, he
cares about you. He thinks you need to talk to someone, someone who isnt him so here I am.
What happened this weekend?
Neither of you need to worry. Im fine.
Gabriel doesnt push, but he doesnt hang up either.
Eventually, Dean gets tired of the silence and he admits, Friday night was rough. Hes quiet,
debating details. Got in a fight. Wasnt sure if I wanted to hit or be hit more, but I didnt get
either. Thought Cas might do it for me. Deans voice is almost too soft to be heard. He cant
remember the last time hed been that bad. Hed wanted Cas to sink his hand into Deans skin,
gouge out chucks of flesh and tear him apart. Dean had wanted to hurt; he wanted to scream and
beg and cry; he wanted all the uneasiness and wrong and bad ripped right out of him.
Dean shakes himself and leans against the back tire on the Civic and pulls his knees up to his
chest. He didnt. Put me in the other room, left me alone, and I lost it. Deans free hand curls
into a fist, and he digs his knuckles into the side of his head. I completely fell apart, and I
safeworded andfuck. Dean hasnt thought too much about that part. Hes thought about being
alone in the room, hes thought about Cas taking him to the bath, about the couch the next day,
but hed pushed aside thoughts of whats really bothering him.
I hate safewording, Dean says. Makes me feel like shit. Gabriel makes a sound like hes going
to say something, but Dean talks right over him. Save me the speech. I know its important and
necessary, and I know when to do it, but that doesnt mean I like it. It always leaves him with a
bad taste in his mouth, like hes a bad sub for not liking what his partner wants. Its even worse
now, because it had been a punishment he ducked out on. Like he wasnt good enough, wasnt
man enough, just plain wasnt enough to make-up for the wrong hed done. Hed crossed a line,
and he was supposed to make up for it, and he couldnt, and that thought makes his insides twist
up and nausea rock his stomach.
Cas isnt the kind of guy to get angry with you about that.
Doesnt Gabriel get it? He doesnt need to. I can be pissed enough for the two of us. This whole
thing is Deans chance to prove himself. That hes worth someones time, that he can be good,
that hes not a complete waste of space, and this weekends made him feel like a screw-up. All
hes done is prove that hes bad and a pathetic needy bitch.
No wonder he had me call you. You always come down this hard after you leave?
Not always. Dean drops his head to his knees to block out the sun. Hed thought he was fine.

Last night was good, they seemed to patch things up, but maybe Deans delusional. Maybe Cas
didnt make him leave because it was seven but because he couldnt stand the sight of Dean any
longer. What kind of guy says no when their convenient fuck offers to stay longer? The kind of
guy that isnt interested.
Which means you do sometimes. Gabriel sounds disappointed, frustrated. Let me guess, you
muddle through it on your own?
I dont need help. And he certainly doesnt need to burden people with his problems. Sam and
dad have enough on their plates as it is, not that hed ever admit to them what was going on
anyways. Like I said, rough weekend, but Im dealing.
You have a plan for when you dont?
Wont happen.
Gabriels definitely frustrated now, Dean can practically hear the mans teeth grind against each
other. Sometimes youre an idiot, you know that?
Look, Im going to be fine. Since this isnt a call saying hes fired. Since hes going to Cass
tonight. Since Cas doesnt think Deans too useless to keep. And really, Dean had been fine last
night. Its waking up without Cas this morning thats getting to him, and theres no solution for
that. Im on the upswing. Nothing is perfect all the time.
Does that mean this thing with Cas is perfect some of the time? Gabriels tone is lighter like hes
trying to move away from sensitive subjects, and Deans grateful for it.
Not, however, grateful enough to talk about Cas. Though you have a privacy policy?
Gabriel laughs, definitely looser now. Yeah, well, cant blame me for trying. But seriously, you
have my phone number. If you ever get low or, hell, if you want to call me up and chat about
whatever the hell it is you do when youre not with Cas then do it.
Why do you care about me so much?
I like you.
Thats not a reason.
Fishing for compliments? Gabriels grin can be heard through the phone. Thats not like you,
Dean-o.
Dean rolls his eyes at the nickname. Sometimes I like you and then I remember what a dick you
can be. Dean pauses, bites his bottom lip. But, Ill call you if I need to. Its a goodbye and a
thank you rolled into one, and Deans incredibly grateful when Gabriel hangs up instead of
dragging the moment out any longer.
***
The beginning of the week is tense. Dean turns his essay in on Monday which should make him
feel better, but it doesnt, because now that hes turned it in, its final. He cant fix it, cant revise it
one last time, he simply has to wait for it to be judged, and it makes him restless. And hes still on
edge at Cass up through Tuesday when he gets a bit of sense and realizes he has to stop bracing
himself for Cas to do something bad to him. It isnt who Cas is, and hes never given Dean any
indication to expect something like that.

By Wednesday, Deans finally started to relax again, and hes paging through his Norton
Anthology, reading the first act of A Midsummer Nights Dream, idly tapping his pen against his
lips. He hated Shakespeare in high school, and the years apart havent made him any bigger of a
fan. Its like a different language, complicated and headache inducing, and it makes him frustrated.
Its an English class, he should be able to understand whats going on.
He makes a vaguely irritated sound in the back of his throat and sucks the pen cap into his mouth.
Whose unwished yoke? What the hell does that even mean? Dean blows out a breath and slides
the pen further into his mouth. And then:
You have her fathers love, Demetrius;
Let me have Hermias: do you marry him.
Dean chokes out a laugh around the pen, and he flicks his eyes up, self-conscious, because hes
laughing out loud to Shakespeare, but Cas isnt looking at him with judgment. Theres interest and
desire and when he realizes he has Deans attention, Cass lips quirk up in a smirk. And then
Dean realizes what he must look like, sprawled out on his stomach, pen in his mouth, and his
cheeks flush a bright red and he hastily takes the pen out of his mouth.
Cass smirk broadens. Dont stop on my account.
Deans eyes go wide, and he blushes harder, but Cas doesnt take his eyes off Dean, and Dean
hesitantly slips the pen back between his lips. The plastic is hard against his tongue and smooth,
and his cheeks burn, and he feels ridiculous until the amusement in Cass eyes darkens to
something more like desire. Dean gets a little bolder, glancing down before casting his gaze up
through his lashes, curling his tongue over the tip of the pen, and hes rewarded when Cas puts his
work to the side and spreads his legs.
Dean holds out for a moment longer before he slides his knees under him so he can crawl between
Cass legs, the pen left forgotten on his book. He rises up on his knees, his hands on the tops of
Cass thighs, and he looks up, hoping he doesnt appear too eager. Or that if he does, Cas isnt in
a teasing mood.
Gorgeous, Cas murmurs, his thumb dragging across Deans bottom lip. Its wet from being
wrapped around the pen. Deans eyes dart away, embarrassed. And you have no idea. Cas
shakes his head even as his hand drops down to undo his fly. He gets his pants unzipped, and
Dean subconsciously leans in as Cas shoves his pants and briefs down.
Anticipation, want, and desire churn in Deans stomach, and he flicks his eyes up hoping for a
sign or permission or something, and Cas threads his hand loosely through Deans hair and tugs
him forward. Its all the encouragement Dean needs before his tongue is flicking out, tasting the
head of Cass cock, licking little stripes down one side then up the other. Hes surprised when
Cass hand doesnt tighten in his hair, doesnt encourage Dean to get a move on, and Dean takes
advantage, decides to tease a little.
He presses open mouth kisses against Cass length, feeling it harden beneath his lips, leaves a wet
spot every time he moves to kiss somewhere else. It isnt until Cass dick is spit slick and shiny
that Dean finally takes the head into his mouth, a barely there suction that has Cas shifting with
impatience.
You were more enthusiastic with the pen, Cas says, but his grip on Deans hair stays loose so
Dean pulls off with an exaggerated pop and a smirk lighting up his eyes.
You think Im lacking in enthusiasm? The look Cas gives Dean back is a challenge, one that
Deans more than happy to rise to, and he takes Cas in one go, his moan only slightly

exaggerated. He likes the feel of Cas in his mouth, thick, hot, heavy; he likes the rush that comes
with the knowledge that Cas wants this, that Deans good at this, and he bobs his head, not taking
Cas quite as deep anymore but setting a quick pace that has Cass thighs trembling in no time.
When Dean chances a look up, Cass head is tipped back, and his lips are parted, pulling in short
steady breaths. Not undone enough for Deans ego. So Dean slows his pace, almost casual, and
starts to hum. At the first of the little vibrations, Cass head snaps down, and his hips jerk but
Dean bears down on Cass thighs holding him in place.
Fuck, Cas says, the word harsh, and he curls his free hand into a fist. The one in Deans hair
strokes his scalp, a frantic movement like it needs something to do or its going to pull so hard
Deans going to lose some hair. That thought is enough to make Dean groan, and he wonders if
he can tease Cas long enough that hell grab two fistfuls of Deans hair and fuck into his mouth.
Its with that thought in mind that he pulls off, and he ignores Cass startled protest to lean down
and mouth at Cass balls, rolling them delicately with his tongue, sucking one then the other into
his mouth. Cas makes a pleased sound, one that goes straight to Deans aching cock, and Dean
thinks teasings overrated. Maybe tomorrow morning, if Dean asks nice, Cas will take him like
that in the shower.
But right now? Right now, Dean wants to make Cas come. His eyes meet Cass, and he holds the
look as he slides his mouth back down over Cass cock, knowing that he must look positively
sinful right now, eyelashes fluttering, mouth pink and stretched around Cass dick. He keeps Cass
gaze and dares him to hold out, to keep from giving in to what Deans offering, and Cas doesnt
even try. His hand finally tightens in Deans hair, and Deans moan is lost as Cass hips buck up
because Cas is coming, and Dean has to pull back a little before he chokes.
Cass whole body goes lax save for the hand in Deans hair, and Dean turns his head, inhaling at
the sharp pain in his scalp as Cass hand doesnt move with him, and his cock gives an answering
pulse, and Dean wonders how much trouble hed be in if he got off like this. Hes allowed to
come unless Cas has stated otherwise, and Cas hasnt said anything, but
A sharp twist of his hair makes him gasp and directs his full attention to Cas. You like that?
Dean nods and when Cas doesnt make any further movement, stutters out a breathless, Yeah.
Hed been hard from the blow job, but hes aching now from the brief glimpse that hes got, of the
promise of Cass hand in his hair. His hands are still on Cass thighs, but he wants one wrapped
around his cock.
Cas jerks Deans head back, pushing his chest out, exposing the long lean line of Deans throat.
Dean can feel the press of his Adams apple as he swallows, and his jaw falls open as his heads
tugged further down.
You really do, Cas says, part wonder, part excitement. He gives Deans hair another sharp tug,
the pain enough to make Dean suck in a breath and thrust his hips into empty air. You going to
get off for me like this? Going to wrap a hand around yourself, jack off while I move you
wherever I want? Cas pulls Deans head to one side then the other, neither motion gentle, and
Deans fingers curl into Cass thighs.
Please. Please, yes, let me. Dean chokes on his next breath as Cass second hand drops to his
hair and they both pull, opposite directions, and Dean feels like hes going to fly apart. Hes not
sure anythings ever felt this good.
Do it, Cas grunts, and Dean fists himself, breath coming in shallow gasps as Cas relaxes and
tightens his hold until Deans scalp is tingling and his hips are thrusting into his hand, and when

Cas twists Deans hair and jerks his head back so theyre eye to eye, Dean comes.
Shit, Cas says, and he doesnt give Dean time to recover, just hauls him into Cass lap so Cas
can kiss the remaining breath out of him. Incredible. Youre incredible, I hope you know that.
Cas hands run through Deans hair, stroking, pulling him closer, and eventually he tucks Deans
head into his neck and Dean breathes in sweat and skin and Cas.
And Dean feels like he should say something; refute the claim, compliment Cas back, but hes still
reeling from his orgasm, from the kiss, still trying to recover so he lets his head rest on Cass
shoulder, lets his body go limp in Cass arms.
Good, Cas says fingers rubbing at Deans abused scalp. Youre so good.
Dean makes a sleepy, contented sound and nuzzles closer. Later, he can think. Right now, he just
wants Cas to hold him.
***
Friday, Dean is in composition, and the professor is droning on about betrotheds and curseds and
beloveds and adding an extra syllable to words that dont need them. Hell admit that every once
in a while (when Dean can understand him) Shakespeares a funny dude. The rest of the time,
hes cryptic as all get out. Anyways, Deans mind starts to drift, and hes absentmindedly taking
notes, and he taps his pen against his lips and then he remembers yesterday, and he flushes scarlet.
He ducks his head and prays no one in the room can read minds or anything, but then he thinks
about the naked desire in Cass eyes, the way hed stretched out and invited Dean to suck him, the
sharp bite of Cass hand in Deans hair, and suddenly Deans uncomfortably hard and if he stands
up then his classmates wont have to be mind readers. Theyll just think hes the kind of guy that
gets off on Shakespeare.
Dean spends the rest of class, desperately fighting his erection, something that isnt helped by his
desire to replay last night in full detail in his mind. Because it had been good. Great even and he
wouldnt mind doing it again, but now isnt the time to be having those thoughts. He tries to focus
on Hermia and Lysander and the whining and posturing and whatever the hell is going on, and he
cant even hold his pen let alone look at it, and when he gets out of class he goes straight to the
bathroom to splash some cold water on his face.
Afterwards, on the way to CompSci he texts Cas.
Dean: I hate you. Cant look at my pen anymore. Dont know how Im supposed to take notes
now.
It doesnt take him long to get a response.
Cas: Thinking about me during class? Shouldnt you be paying attention?
Dean: Texting me during work? Shouldnt you be firing someone or something?
He knows hes got a goofy grin on his face, and its ridiculous, and he probably shouldnt be
casually flirting with Cas via text message, because it breaks all kinds of rules, but he likes how
loose and happy he feels, he likes the clench of his stomach as he waits for Cas to respond, as he
tries to figure out what Cas is going say.
Cas: When you get to my apartment make dinner then prep yourself.
Dean quickly snaps his phone shut, not that anyone is early to his CompSci class besides him, but
he doesnt want someone reading that text over his shoulder. Because of the responses hed been

expecting from Cas, that wasnt it. And now anticipation pools in his stomach and his erection
comes back full force at the thought of Cas sitting in a meeting and texting instructions like that, all
his employees unaware of what hes doing. And then Dean starts thinking about why Cas wants
him prepped, whether theyre going to have sex as soon as Cas walks through the door or what.
He bites his bottom lip and drops his jacket into his lap and turns his attention to the professor as
she walks in and takes roll.
***
Dean makes miniature chicken pop pies, and he made four even though Cas will probably only
eat two, and he makes sure that all the dinner clean-up is done before he goes to Cass room for
the lube. He doesnt have a lot of time to get himself ready, but he takes it slow, enjoying the burn
of the first finger and the stretch of two. Hes hard by the time he caps the lube and goes to wash
his hands, and his body is thrumming with possibilities for what will happen when Cas gets home.
Will he bend Dean over a chair? The counter? Will they go to the couch? He doesnt think theyll
make it all the back to the bedroom, but maybe Cas will surprise him. Maybe they will. He thinks
that no matter where they end up its going to be hard and its going to be fast, and he shivers in
anticipation.
It takes most of Deans self-control to kneel by the table and all of it not to jump straight to his feet
when he hears the turn of the doorknob. He does look up though, and hes positive he doesnt
hold back the full force of his want, of his desire, but Cas doesnt tell Dean to get up, doesnt tell
him to arrange himself somewhere. He sets his briefcase down on the table and shrugs out of his
coat and puts it over the back of chair just like any other night. He puts his suit jacket over the
chair as well and goes over to the oven to inspect dinner.
Chicken pop pie? Looks good. Cas comes back to the table with his dinner and he spares a brief
glance down at Dean. You do it? Dean nods and slides his legs apart, ready to show Cas, but
Cas shakes his head. I believe you. How was your psychology class today? Learn anything
new?
Cas wants to eat dinner? He wants to talk about Deans classes? Deans here, ready to go, and
Cas wants to pretend like its a normal night? Like Deans skin hasnt been buzzing for hours?
Like he hasnt been sporting an erection for most of the day? Fucking hell.
Dean pulls in a shaky breath. Class was good. I like Professor Henricksen. In fact, Dean should
probably go talk to him soon. Out of Deans three professors, he seems like the best one to talk
about possible futures. Deans not sure if he wants to continue with this college thing, but if he
does he wants to stick with psych which makes Henricksen a good person to talk to. And then
Dean realizes that hes naked, keeling at Cass feet and now probably isnt the best time to be
thinking about his professors.
He casts about for another topic of conversation, but he cant come up with one, and Cas seems
content to sit in silence. Dean doesnt mind it at first, because his mind is whirling and its nice to
just let it, but hes been ready for this since his last class of the day, and he doesnt want to wait
any longer. Hes pretty sure Cas is eating the slowest anyone has ever eaten before in their lives.
Dean shifts his weight and a warning hand drops to the back of his neck, and Dean ducks his
head, ashamed.
Sorry. He knows better than this. He can be still. He can be patient. Its just, hes slick and his
dick is aching, and is it really so wrong to want Cas? To want Cass hands on him, Cass mouth?
To want Cas to shove his head down and pull Deans ass up and just fuck him? Deans lips part
around a silent moan at that, and when Cas stands up, Deans afraid Cas is going to leave him or

get another damn pie. Dean shouldve only made one.

But Cas just puts the remaining two pies in Tupperware and then in the fridge, and he rinses his
dishes and then he dries his hands and then, finally, he turns his full attention on Dean. Deans
heart skips a beat at the look Cas gives him, because its full of want and intent, and its the
entirety of Cass attention, and Dean preens under it, tilting his body so Cas gets a better view,
puffing his chest out, jutting his hips forward.
Cas quirks a smile at that, Stand up, lean over the table. Dean scrambles to obey, and he no
sooner gets his hands braced on the table, ass up and on display then Cas says, Show me.
The words shoot straight to Deans dick, and he groans even as he turns his head, cheek pressing
into the table for balance as he reaches his hands back to grasp his ass cheeks. He toes his feet
further out, spreads his legs that much more and then he bares himself for Cass inspection. His
flush races up his neck into his cheeks but it also works its way down his chest. Hed thought
about this, thought about this way too much probably, but for it to actually be happening? His
balls are a heavy weight between his legs, a reminder of how much hes getting off on this.
Cass finger drags down the crack of Deans ass, passing over his hole, but the light touch is
enough to have Dean grinding his face into the table. He tilts his hips up, back, an encouragement
that gets him a smack to the inside of his thigh.
Stay still, Cas chides. A moment later, a finger slides in, nice and easy. You think about me in
class today? Cas adds a second finger, and Dean wants to push back to meet Cass fingers, to get
him to hurry the fuck up, but he doesnt. Instead, he digs his fingers into his flesh, holds himself
open more, thinks about how hes going to have bruises there tomorrow.
Bet you couldnt sit still. You shift in your seat? Wriggle a bit? I bet everyone in class knew
exactly what you were thinking. You blush so easy, Cass free hand drags down Deans
upturned cheek. I bet they could see it written right there on your face. You were thinking about
the best fucking of your life.
Yes, Dean hisses right as Cass fingers twist and press, and Deans hips jerk and his fingers slip,
and his head starts to come up, but Cass hand slides from Deans cheek to his neck, holding him
in place.
Thought about you too, Cas says and he leans in close, his weight shoving his fingers in further.
Thought about all the things I was going to do to you when I got home to find you ready for me.
I bet I couldve walked through the door and slipped right in. Wouldnt that be a hell of a hello.
Cas laughs and he drags his thumb against the rim of Deans ass, and Dean shudders and bucks
up, but Cas holds him firmly in place. Maybe I should do this every night. Have you prep
yourself then put a plug in so I can fuck you whenever I feel like it.
Dean whimpers at that, at the thought of making dinner with the plug in, every movement a
reminder that hes Cass, that Cas is coming home to him, that Cas could bend him over and fuck
him instantly.
Of course youd like that. Cas gives Deans neck a squeeze. Is that what you want right now?
Want me to fuck you? See how sloppy and loose I can get you?
Deans cheeks burn with shame, and there might even be tears prickling in his eyes, but his dick is
rock hard, and he wants. He wants so fucking bad. Please. His fingers scramble at skin, hold
himself open even more, an invitation he wants Cas to take him up on. Fuck me, please. Im
ready. Ive been ready.

Cas doesnt waste anymore time. His fingers pull out of Deans ass and they grip his hip, digging
into the skin to counteract the lube theyre slick with, and then Cas is driving in in one smooth
thrust. Dean grunts and his cheek presses almost painful into the table, but it doesnt matter,
because Cas is finally in him. After this afternoons teasing and tonights wait, Deans surprised he
doesnt shake apart on the first thrust.
Cas takes his hand off Deans neck, and Dean cant help his whine, and Cas pauses, buried deep
in Deans ass. You want that there, boy?
Deans gut churns, hot with arousal and need and he manages a jerky nod.
Im not taking the other off your hip. If this hand goes back on your neck, youre not getting a
hand on your cock. You still want it?
Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Please.
Cas is still for a long moment, and Deans afraid hes said something wrong, that hes screwed
everything up, and he has an apology at the ready when Cass hand presses back down, harder
than before, and his hips pull back only to drive back in, and Dean doesnt have the breath to
apologize even if he wanted to. Not that he does. Because somethings flipped in Cas; hes
ruthless, pounding into Dean so hard hes knocking Deans face into the table. Hes leaving
bruises on the back of Deans neck and on his hip, and Deans ass is definitely going to be sore
tomorrow, but he doesnt care, because this is what he wants. He wants Cas to use him, to need
him even half as much as Dean needs him, with this crazy out of control want, and Deans finally
getting it.
Cass hips stutter and then his rhythm is off, and hes dragging in puffs of air, and Dean thinks
finally and yes and please and more. This is Cas out of control, and Dean pushes his hips back to
take more of it. The best, though, is when Cass orgasm hits. He lets out a shocked, unintentional
gasp, caught off guard by it, and its that thought, that Dean took Cas so far out of his own head
that he didnt even realize he was on the edge that tips Dean over too. His come splatters on the
hardwood floor, and he slumps against the table. His fingers clutched his ass so hard theyre stiff,
and it hurts to straighten them out, pull them away so they can help brace him on the table.
Huh, Cas says, and his hands stroke up and down Deans sides, calming him through the
aftershocks. Guess you didnt need that hand after all. Cas presses a kiss between Deans
shoulder blades then at the base of his neck. Youre hotter than you have any right to be. You
know that?
Mm. Dean twists his neck to the other side, in part to give his abused cheek a relief but also in
part to see if he can get Cas to nuzzle his face too. It works. Cas drags his knuckles over the
reddened, abused flesh of Deans cheek and then he rubs his cheek against Deans. Like this.
Like you.
Well, I should hope so, Cas says, a huff of amusement to his words.
Dean forces his body to move to he can turn and look up at Cas, seriousness in his eyes. No, he
says, a hand pressed to the pocket on Cass dress shirt. Like you.
Cass eyes soften, and he curls his fingers over Deans wrist, light but holding Deans hand where
it is. Yeah. I like you too.

Chapter 22
Chapter Notes

Blatant quoting of canon. That line is not mine.

Deans got a giant grin on his face as Cas comes home Monday night, and Cas notices straight off
and raises an eyebrow. What are you all happy about?
I did well on my English essay. And, Deans face brightens even more indicating this is the true
highlight of his day. Apples pies are back to being 2 for a dollar at McDonalds.
Cas is loosening his tie, and he pauses, judgment radiating from his body. Really?
Dean shrugs. I like apple pie and usually theyre 1 for $0.99 so if I can get two for just a penny
more then yeah. Im excited.
But McDonalds? Cas takes his tie off and undoes the first few buttons on his shirt and then his
cuffs and he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. I thought you had better taste than that. He goes
to the kitchen to see what Deans made for dinner.
He misses Deans shrug but not his words. I mean, theyre all right. Not the best pie Ive ever
had, but theyre cheap and I can get them whenever I want. Do you know how much of a pain it
is to make a pie?
Cas returns with a bowl of stew, a biscuit, and a disapproving look. If you stuff yourself with
mediocre pie then youll never appreciate good pie.
Thats not true, Dean protests but he falls silent with a just a look from Cas.
Furthermore, if you have something you enjoy too often then youll lose your appetite for it.
Dean wants to protest that too, but he keeps his mouth shut.
No more pie, Cas says, and Deans mouth drops, but he doesnt have a chance to get a word in
before Cas keeps talking. Not from McDonalds, not from the grocery store, not even if you make
it yourself in your kitchen. Apparently, you cant be trusted to know how to properly indulge. So,
no pie unless I allow you.
Dean has a thousand things to say to that. First of all, Cas doesnt own him. Not outside this
apartment anyways. He has no right to decide whether Dean can get a pie before class or not. But
they already sort of crossed that line on Friday with the texting and that had definitely worked out
to Deans advantage. But still, hes already having difficulty separating the job from the rest of his
life. If he lets Cas into his non-Cas timeHe bites his bottom lip, thinking it over, and he
shouldnt. He absolutely shouldnt. His life outside of here is his life. He can do whatever the hell
he wants. But Cas knows what Dean wants, has a way of making things good. And if what Dean
wants just so happens to line up with what Cas wants then is it so bad?
Yeah, Dean finally says, voice shaky. Alright. No more pie.

Cas smiles, and he reaches down to cup Deans cheek. Good. Tomorrow, I want you to bring me
the recipes for your five favorite pies. Can you remember that or should I write it down?
Its a terrible idea, and Dean should put a stop to the crossover into his real life, but he pretends to
hesitate and asks, Text it to me?
Cass smile is worth the nervous flutter in Deans stomach. Hed deleted the other texts from Cas,
because he doesnt want anything incriminating on his phone, but a text about pie? He can save
that and keep it and look at it on Saturday nights when his bed feels too big and empty.
Oh yeah, this is a terrible idea.
***
Dean becomes hyperaware of pie. Hed had a pretty good sense for it before, but now that hes
not allowed to have any, he sees it everywhere. This girl in his psych class brings one of the minipies from the grocery store to class with her and munches away, uncaring that little crumbs are
spilling to the floor. Charlie brings apple turnovers into the garage one day for breakfast, and they
arent pie, but theyre close so Dean avoids them. Theres a commercial for some weight loss
product and to show that you can eat shit and still lose weight they show an array of pies that have
Deans mouth watering.
And, of course, there are the golden arches that taunt him on his trip to school. The McDonalds is
right there, giant posters in its windows of freshly baked apple pie, and Dean hadnt been prepared
for how much hed crave pie. He never shouldve agreed to this.
But then, Thursday, he gets to Cass and theres a note telling him to bake a blueberry pie while
he makes dinner. Cas has gotten all the ingredients, and Deans turns his nose up at the
prepackaged pie crust and the tin of blueberry filling and wrinkled blueberries he has to work
with; he prefers to make his pies completely from scratch complete with fresh fruit, but hes had
pie on the brain all week, and this will still taste delicious.
He hums to himself while he works, thinking about how the way Cas has timed it so the pie will
be warm when they eat it. Nothing like a slice of warm pie. He can imagine biting into the pie,
thick blueberry filling coating his lips, Cas kissing it off, and the rest of his fantasy gets messy, but
he lets himself get lost in it.
During dinner Cas chats idly about current events and some big party thats coming up. E!s going
to cover it which Cas doesnt sound pleased about, but Dean doesnt pay close attention. Hes too
busy keeping still, refraining from shooting longing glances at the pie. Instead, he smiles politely,
willing Cas to eat faster, because he wants dessert.
Finally, Cas is done and he puts his dishes away and then he sits back down and runs a fond hand
through Deans hair, tilting Deans head back to smile at him. Cut me a slice of pie? It smelled
heavenly when I came in.
Its not my best work, Dean says even as he goes to do as hes told. You need to go all the
way from scratch for that.
Well have time for that, Cas promises, and it sounds almost like a threat to Deans ears. He
shrugs it off and cuts Cas a generous slice of pie, and hes tempted to eat the filling that falls out
but instead he scoops it out of the pie pan and drops it on Cass plate.
Do you need a new fork? Dean asks.
Yes please.

He doesnt ask for two which is disappointing, but maybe hell feed Dean from his fork? Pie
definitely isnt a finger food, though Dean wouldnt mind sucking the filling off Cass fingers. He
smiles at that thought, at what it might lead to, and he sets the plate and fork down in front of Cas
before he kneels down in his spot.
Cas hums around his first bite, and he looks down at Dean, impressed. You say it gets better than
this?
Dean smirks. Oh yeah. Warm apple pie with apples that have stewed in cinnamon all day? Add a
slice of cheddar cheese, and its perfection.
Cass eyes flutter shut at that and then he goes back to his pie. Dean watches, pleased at first with
how much Cas seems to be enjoying his pie, then impatient as Cas works through the slice
without offering any to Dean.
My secretaries have been after me to bake for them again, Cas says. I bet theyd love this.
For the first time the possibility enters Deans head that he might not get any pie tonight. This
might be some elaborate, cruel tease. Hes stunned in the wake of this revelation, and he doesnt
come out of it until Cas nudges him with his thigh.
You still with me?
Sorry. Dean shakes himself.
Cas smiles and hands his (empty) plate and fork over. Will you rinse those and put them in the
sink for me? Im going to see whats on TV tonight. Unless you have work to do?
Dean shakes his head. Hes been on top of his work lately, and hes especially glad right now,
because hes not sure hes going to be able to concentrate on anything for the rest of the night. Cas
had made him bake a pie and Dean doesnt get any of it? He had to watch Cas eat it and then talk
about the people he was going to give it away to and Dean isnt going to get any?
He eyes the plate at he brings it over to the sink, and his stomach dips, guilty and needy at the
thought of licking off the vestiges of the blueberry pie. Theres a blueberry left on the plate and
some filling is streaked across the white surface, and hes actually bringing the plate up to his
mouth before he realizes what hes doing. He quickly rinses it off, shame burning his cheeks. Hes
not that desperate. Hes not. Hes not going to lick a fucking plate. He washes the plate
thoroughly, until theres no hint of purple and he puts the dishes away before joining Cas on the
couch.
Cas is sitting, back against the arm, rest, legs spread for Dean to fit into, and Dean lies down on
his side, head on Cass chest.
Did you do it?
Dean nods.
Cass fingers tangle in his hair. Did you lick the plate?
No. Dean cant meet Cass eyes.
Did you think about it?
Theres no way Cas couldve known that Dean had thought about it, but Dean blushes hotly

anyways, answers, yes, in no more than a whisper.

Cas laughs, the sound vibrating through Deans body and pulls him closer. You blush so pretty
for me. You like the thought of licking it clean?
Deans face burns even hotter, and he tries to turn his face into Cass shirt, but Cas tugs him up,
kisses him instead. And when he slides his thigh between Deans legs and finds him half-hard, he
chuckles, deep and sinful into Deans mouth, and Dean wants to melt into a puddle. He wants to
turn away from Cass attention, but Cas digs his fingers into Deans hair and holds him tight.
***
Dean doubles back to the psych building after his CompSci class, because he has an appointment
with Professor Henricksen today. It takes him some time to find the mans office, but once he does
he knocks once, tentative then a second time in case the first wasnt loud enough.
Come in.
Dean pushes the door open. The office is small, cramped with bookshelves taking up two walls, a
window taking up the third, and certificates and diplomas and commendations scattered across the
fourth. Theres a heavy wooden desk in the center of the room, and there are two chairs in front of
it, and a plush leather rolling chair behind it where Professor Henricksen is sitting. Hes in a light
blue shirt today, sleeves rolled up, and he looks up from the paper hes grading and gestures at
Dean to sit.
Winchester, he says. Youre in my, he pauses to consult a piece of paper, Psych 101 class.
You having trouble with the reading?
Dean shakes his head. Hes doing fine in the class, good marks on all his quizzes and even on his
open response questions. Hes a little hurt that Henricksen doesnt know that, but Dean supposes
the guy has like a hundred students or something between all his classes. Of course he doesnt
remember Dean.
You said at the beginning of the class that you were the one to talk to about continuing in
psychology, Dean says.
Henriksen looks up at Dean, surprised. You were listening on the first day of class?
Dean ventures a small smile, unsure if thats supposed to be a joke. Im not sure if Im going to,
but I figured I should come and talk to you, get a better idea before the summer session ends.
Henriksen seems disappointed by something Deans said. What are you looking at besides
psych? Please tell me youre not an anthro guy. Or worse, sociology. If its sociology you can just
get out.
What? No. If I stay then Im doing psych. Im just not sure if more classes can happen. Its
working out right now, but its the summer which means Bobby has no shortage of hands at the
garage, and Dean cant forget that not only do classes cost money to take but they cost money
because while hes in them he cant be working. And yeah, working for Cas means he has more
liberties than before, but still. If something happens and he loses that and Sam cant go to
Stanford, because Dean wanted to take a couple classes at a community college then hell never
forgive himself.
Too much effort? Henriksen asks, bored now.
Dean bristles at the tone and the implication, and he cant quite keep the bite out of his tone when

he says, No, but my brother starts college in the fall, Stanford, and someone has to make sure we
have the money to pay for it. I heard there are some good two-year programs here so Im checking
it out. Deans done the math. Hes already taking three courses so if he takes four in the fall, four
in the spring, three over next summer and then another four both semesters next year then hell
have filled the requirements for a psych major. Only, hes not sure if they have the time or the
money, and hes not sure its worth it. Hes already got a job as a mechanic that he knows how to
do and that makes decent money.
Stanford? Henriksen whistles. No wonder youre looking to make some money. Why are you
bearing the financial burden though? Isnt that what parents are for?
This was a waste of time, Dean thinks. He should get up and walk away and forget about this
stupid place. Things are going well with Cas so theres a good chance that there arent going to be
any problems paying for Stanford. Dean doesnt need to take some stupid courses and get some
fancy ass job. He likes working on cars, and hes good at it. It was stupid to think of doing
anything else.
Hey, sorry, Henriksen says and there seems to be genuine feeling there. Im being a complete
dick. How about we go grab a coffee or something and start over?
Deans reluctant but he nods and they head out to the Starbucks in the student center.
***
They loved the pie, Cas says that night when theyre curled up on the couch. Ive already
gotten requests for what kind I should bring in next. Cas smiles like hes a bearer of great news
instead of torturing Dean who had finally been able to chase out thoughts of pie with thoughts of
his future. But now his meeting with Henriksen is forgotten as he goes back to pie and what he
would do for a little bite.
Cas captures Deans jaw and tilts his head up. I told them Id think about it. If youd rather not,
Cas trails off, but Dean gets where hes going. Cas is offering him an out. Theyd tried something
and if Dean doesnt like it then now is his time to say. And yeah, Deans a little pissed that Cas
made him bake a pie and then Dean didnt get any, but he likes the heat thats been simmering in
stomach for days now, how that flares into desire any time he sees or hears mention of pie. And
its probably not good that he gets half-hard at the thought of pie, but he doesnt hate it.
If you give me more time then I can make a real pie, Dean says, and its worth the inevitable
teasing hes going to get for the foreseeable future for the smile on Cass face. Bet theyd really
like that one.
Maybe for us, Cas says and theres no way he misses the thrill that goes through Deans body at
the mention of us. I dont want them stealing you away from me.
A flood of feelings rush through Dean at that, and he leans in and kisses Cas before he says
something stupid like I wouldnt let them or Id rather have you. Instead, he curls his hands
around Cass shoulders and rolls his hips down and kisses Cas with everything hes got.

***
Dean wipes his face on his sleeve and thinks that if hed had doubts about continuing college then
he doesnt anymore. He loves working on cars, he does, and hell continue to fix up the Impala
and he might stop by when Bobby needs a hand, but he wont miss days like this; stuck outside

under the blazing sun, sweat dripping in his eyes and in his mouth, soaking through his shirt as he
changes the oil for some kid who thinks hes too good to do it himself.
Your shirt is filthy, Charlie says, perching on the crate next to Dean.
Deans significantly less charitable when its hot out and he glares. Sos your face.
Charlie laughs and shrugs her shoulders. Yeah but I cant take my face off. You know Bobby
doesnt care about the guys going shirtless in the summer. I mean, poor Garth should definitely
keep his on, but I bet wed get quite a few more customers if you lost the cotton.
Despite the heat, Dean goes cold at the suggestion, and he instinctively hunches his shoulders. He
always forgets that this is what summer brings; people poking him and prodding him and urging
him to take off his shirt because its hot or to come swimming with them or to play a game of
hoops, shirts vs. skins. But there are too many questions Dean doesnt want to answer, doesnt
know how to answer so he ducks out of all of it.
Ill keep it on if its all the same to you. Deans tone isnt as gentle as it should be and Charlie
eyes him curiously before he shrugs.
Okie dokie. You want a water? We have a bunch in the fridge so they should be cool. Dont
want you getting heatstroke or anything.
A water would be great. Dean wipes his forehead again and sighs. Stupid summer. He should
move to Alaska or something. Somewhere he wont be judged for keeping his shirt on.
Or just never leave Cass, a traitorous part of his brain suggests. He ignores it and gets to work on
the kids oil change.

Chapter 23
Chapter Notes

Hopefully this settles some of the concerns about the pie. Also, mild humiliation in
the last section in case that isn't your thing.

Its been over a week since Deans first meeting with Professor HenriksenVictor, hes been told
to call him. Dean had another meeting yesterday, and theyve started to chart out some possible
ideas for Deans future. Victor hadnt laughed when Dean told him he wanted to help people, and
Victor had a few suggestions; therapist, guidance counselor, but both of those would take more
than two years of school. And then he suggested that Dean be an aide in a behavior intensive
classroom. Its a decent paying job, and Dean would get to work with kids. Deans never
mentioned anything about kids or how he feels about them, and hes both impressed and kind of
freaked out that Victor has somehow figured that Dean likes them enough he wouldnt mind
teaching.
Talked to my advisor yesterday, Dean says when he gets back to Bobbys Saturday night. Sam
looks up from the TV, and Bobby pauses the movie. Even dad looks interested which makes
Dean smile. Im thinking about taking on a full schedule in the fall.
What? Sam asks, out of his chair in an instant. Thats great, Dean! He gives Dean a hug and
then drags him down to the couch. You have something youre interested in? Have you started
looking at other classes yet? Thats so awesome. Were going to be in college together!
Dean laughs and talks briefly about his classes right now and what hed need to take for a psych
degree. Unfortunately, it includes math. He doesnt mention his job aspirations, but he does let
them get excited that for the first time, he has a tentative plan for the future. Hes working towards
something, and its scary and cool at the same time. Hes worried hes going to fail, and hes
terrified that somethings going to happen and itll fall through, but underneath that all he hopes
that in the end itll be as awesome as he thinks it will be. He kind of wants to go back to some of
his old schools, track down his teachers and tell them that hes now on track to be a teacher and
laugh at the looks of horror on their faces.
Benny shows up around 9:30, and hes barely through the door before Sams chattering away
about Deans plans, and Deans embarrassed, and he punches Sams shoulder and tries to get him
to shut up, and Benny just laughs.
No harm in being happy for you. This calls for a celebration. And then Benny pulls a box out
from behind his back, and Dean knows what its going to be before Benny even tips the box so
they can see through the plastic cutout.
Pie.
Deans mouth waters and his stomach clenches and he wants, and he thinks its entirely unfair that
Bennys finally baked him pie and he has to say no. Well, he doesnt have to. Technically, hes
not at Cass anymore, and hes not Cass employee unless hes in the apartment. But Cas had said
no pie without permission, and Dean definitely doesnt have permission.
But pie. Apple pie.

Dean stares at the box longingly, not even registering the conversation going on around him until
Sam shoves his shoulder, laughing when Dean almost topples off the couch.
Youre drooling for it. Sam laughs again. Want to come get plates with me?
Theyre going to eat it? Right now? In the living room? Dean cant. He cant have any, and he
cant sit here while they eat it. Hes not strong enough. He can watch Cas eat it, because Cas
wont let Dean have any, but Sam doesnt know Deans playing some strange control game with
his boss.
I, Dean digs his nails into his palms. I cant. Four sets of eyes snap up to his, and Dean
flushes and ducks his head. Im on a diet.
Youre what? Sam grabs Deans face and turns it so theyre looking at each other. Are you
okay? Are you my brother? Are you an alien? Sams eyes narrow and Dean shoves him away
with a sigh.
Youre weird, you know that?
A diet? Bobby asks. Thats the stupidest thing Ive ever heard.
Dean shrugs and pats his stomach which is actually starting to get a bit flabby now that he thinks
about it. Not much, just an extra bit of skin around his bellybutton. Maybe laying off the pie
wasnt such a bad idea. Ill go get the plates anyways. Its a bit to torture himself, a bit to get
him out of the room, and hes hoping Benny comes to help him.
Hes not disappointed. Benny follows him into the kitchen, still holding the damn pie, and Dean
has to curl his hands around the counter to keep from lunging for it. I, uh, Dean scuffs his foot
on the floor. Im not being a jerk to you, I swear. I just, Dean eyes flit to the box then away.
Im really dieting.
Benny laughs, rich and warm and unoffended. I believe you. I have no idea why youd do
something like deny yourself pie, but youre definitely wound tight enough to be telling the truth.
Should I put this back in the car? He holds up the box, and Deans eyes track its movement.
Nah. You guys enjoy. Im just going to head up to my room. Dean forces a smile and sprints up
to Sams room and locks the door like that will actually keep himself inside. Theres pie. Theres
apple pie, Deans favorite, and Benny made it and hes a damn good cook, and Dean wants. He
wants so bad he can feel it twisting him all up inside, and hes got his phone in hand and its
ringing before hes really aware of what hes doing.
Dean? Cas asks, surprised.
Dean doesnt blame him, because Deans breathing heavy over the phone, which is kind of
creepy. Dean touches his hand to his cheek and its flushed and red, and he breathes out a
desperate, Cas, through the phone. He needs to talk to Cas. He needs to hear Cass voice and
have it ground him. No pie because Cas says and Cas is here, in his ear.
Theres a long moment of silence, punctuated only by Dean breathing and then Cass voice,
hesitant. Dean? Are you alright?
Dean flops back on his air mattress, and throws his arm over his eyes. Pie, he whines, and he
knows he sounds like a child, and Cas is probably going to be pissed about this, but this is Cass
fault in the first place. Benny brought pie.

Oh, Cas says and the concern drains out of his tone immediately, leaving him amused, even a
little cocky. And thats a problem? I thought you liked pie.
There are so many things Dean wants to say fuck you and I hate you topping his list, but thats out
of line, and hes afraid Cas will hang up on him. I do.
Temptation too great? How long did you hold out before you ran up here? Before you ran away
to your room to call me?
Not long. Deans cheeks are warm to the touch. Iit was hard. So hard. Its apple pie, and he
offered it to me, and I couldnt stay.
So good, Cas says and Deans dick gives an interested twitch. So good of you to remove
yourself from the temptation. Even better that you called me. I like it when you ask me for help.
Do you want a reward for being so good?
Yes, Dean thinks, yes, yes, yes. He doesnt realize hes said it out loud until Cass low laugh
trickles through the phone.
Do you have lotion in easy reach?
Deans mind goes blank for a second before hes scrambling into a sitting position. Yes, he
says, reaching for it before Cas tells him to. Is this really happening? Is Cas going to get him off
over the phone. Fuck, thats hot.
Put the phone down and get naked, Cas says, Dont touch yourself more than necessary.
Dean groans, his only protest before he sets the phone down and does has hes told. He wants to
rub a finger over his nipples, skim his hands down his sides. He wants to give his cock a few good
strokes, but he doesnt. He undresses slowly and even folds his clothes before snatching the phone
and pressing it to his ear.
Okay, he says and he should feel foolish over doing this, but he doesnt. He feels alive and
giddy and hot, and like he deserves this. He hasnt had a single bite of pie in almost two weeks
despite numerous temptations. Hed rather have pie as a reward, but this works too.
Put some lotion on, Cas says. Fist yourself. Dean does, a small sigh escaping his lips as he
finally takes himself in hand. Im proud of you, Cas says. You couldve done it. You couldve
snuck a bite or even a whole piece and I never wouldve known. But you didnt, because I told
you not to, and do you even have any idea how hot that is?
Dean has a pretty damn good idea. His hand sliding up and down his shaft, thumb swiping over
the head, another pleased sound falling from his lips. He has no idea why its so hot, and he hopes
Cas is just as hard from it as he is, but Dean definitely likes it.
The way you follow orders, Cas says, The way youll do anything I tell you. He trails off
again like he cant even put into words what it means, and Dean groans and speeds his hand up,
because yeah, hes made Cas speechless. Pride and desire pool in his blood, and he slides his hand
down to cup his balls, to give them a little tug, and he wishes he had one of those phones with
video. Or he had a laptop with a webcam. He wants Cas to see him like this. Wants him to see
what a wreck hes made of Dean.
Yeah? Cas asks, voice deeper than before, a desperate tremble to it. How have I made you
look?
Shit, Dean thinks. He needs to stop talking out loud when he means to think. Fucking mess,

Dean says. My face is red, not as red as my dick. Fuck, Im hard. Didnt think it would be like
this.
You like it though?
Fuck yes, Dean hisses and he pushes his hips into his fist, thrusts a few times, the only sound
between them his ragged breathing before he speaks again. I get it now. Thought you were being
a fucking tease. And you are, but thats not what its about. I wanted it, Cas. Wanted it so bad.
Dean twists his hand, groans at the friction. Wanted to rip the box out of Bennys hands and
shove my face in it. Im not sure Ive wanted anything more. Except you. Dean barely catches
Cass sharp intake of breath. Cause as badly as I wanted that pie, I wanted you more. Wanted
you happy with me. Wanted you proud of me. Didnt wanna disappoint you. Dean presses the
phone harder into his ear like somehow thatll make Cas appear in the room with him. Please,
Dean begs, and hes not sure what hes asking for but Cas comes through for him, like he always
does.
Youre incredible, Cas says, his voice as wrecked as Deans. Youre gorgeous and of course
Im proud of you. Youre the best, Dean. I couldnt have found anyone better than you. Come for
me.
Deans head is spinning with Cass words, pleasure and affection and arousal swirling through
him, but when the command comes its all pushed aside as his orgasm sweeps through him,
knocking everything else aside. Dean collapses against the mattress, a fine sheen of sweat on his
skin, breathing like hes just run a race.
Fucking hell, he says wiping his come covered hand on his chest. Hes definitely going to need
to take a shower but not yet. He wants to bask in this a little. Cas thinks hes the best. Dean
doesnt think saying no to pie is quite worth that kind of compliment, but hes not going to give it
back. Hes going to keep it and treasure it, and no one will take it away from him.
The only thing that could make this any better would be Cas here with him, to gather him up and
hold him. Maybe carry him to the bath and sink him into the water and rinse him off. Dean hums
at the thought, limbs going even more boneless.
No, Cas says, his voice quiet but no less an order. You cant fall asleep on me yet.
Mm, Dean slurs. Hes blissed out and happy. Its the perfect time to fall asleep.
You need to shower, Cas says, and you need something to drink.
You are so bossy, Dean whines, but hes already forcing himself to move. Cas always does
things with reason, and hes, annoyingly, always right. Which means Dean needs to listen.
Besides, he doesnt want to wake up in half an hour cold from dried sweat and sticky with crusted
jizz.
You like it, Cas says, teasing, and it startles a laugh out of Dean.
Yeah. Yeah, I do.
Text me, Cas says. I want to know how long you showered and what you had to drink. Ill
know if you lie.
Wasnt going to, Dean says, offended by the thought. Hadnt he just proved with the whole pie
thing that he can listen? That he wants to listen? Hes a little scared at how much of his life hes
willing to give up to Cass control. It makes him wonder what would happen if this wasnt a job.
What if they were together? Would Dean give him everything? Would Cas want it?

Cas? Dean says, and he wants to ask all those questions and then some.
Shower, Cas says, firm. Im going to hang up now.
Wait, Dean says, but the lines already dead.
***
On Sunday, Dean bakes two pies. One for the women in the office, one, presumably for him and
Cas. Or maybe just for Cas. The apple pie he gets to make from scratch, and he whistles to himself
as he makes the crust. Cas is at the table, papers and books spread out around him, and Dean
worries that hes being distracting, but Cas hasnt asked him to stop, and he hasnt looked up from
the painting hes studying so Dean decides he must be fine.
He putters around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients or measuring cups, plucking the rolling pin
from the drawer, and it strikes him how domestic this whole scene is. He doesnt usually cook
when Cas is here, and hes surprised at how easy he relaxes when Cas is in his space. Whenever
he cooks at home he has to be on his guard, protecting the cooking food from Sams wandering
hands, and he never knows if dads going to walk in or Bobby or even Benny. When Dean is
cooking is the perfect time to ambush him, because he cant go anywhere.
The kitchen is supposed to be his safe place, where he can let go, drift a little, but at Bobbys its
more of a danger zone. Here, though, is nice. Cas is good at sharing space; hes quiet, hes not
distracting, and hes not constantly trying to sneak apple slices or cutting off pieces of crust to
nibble on.
Dean shouldnt feel this at home in Cass kitchen. He shouldnt feel at ease, like this is natural,
like he belongs here. Of course, he shouldnt have called Cas last night when he was off duty.
And he shouldnt have woken up this morning better than most Sundays because of that phone
call. Sunday mornings are usually marked by an empty ache in his chest, by too much space on
his air mattress, by a bed that doesnt feel right. That doesnt feel like his. He shouldnt lean back
against Cass counter while a pie bakes in the oven and feel at home. Because this isnt his home.
Its Cass. And one day Deans going to have to leave it, and he wont be allowed to come back.
Youre thinking pretty hard over there, Cas says, looking up from his books. A pair of reading
glasses perch precariously on the tip of his nose.
Dean smiles, automatic reflex. Thats not something I hear a lot.
Cas frowns and takes his glasses off, folding them up and putting them away. You know I dont
like it when you talk like that.
Sorry. Dean still doesnt understand why Cas cares, but hes started to accept the fact that, for
some odd reason, he does. He cares about Dean, and he cares about what Dean thinks about
himself which makes him different than anyone Deans been in a relationship with before.
Worked for before. He meant Cas is different than anyone Deans worked for before.
How long? Cas motions to the oven.
About an hour.
Cas nods and motions to the small corner of empty space at the table. You have homework to
do?
Dean goes to get his anthology and his English notebook, fighting disappointment. An hour is a

long time, plenty of time to have a bit of fun, but Cas is in a productive mood. Besides, Dean has a
new essay to start on so he should sit down and focus.
It doesnt take long for the smell of baked apples and cinnamon to drift through the room, and
Dean ignores the growl of his stomach and tries not to think about the pie baking in the oven. He
wants to think that this is the night that Cas stops playing whatever game hes playing, but he
doubts it after last night. Last night had felt like a reprieve, a good job now keep going sort of
thing.
It doesnt stop him from hoping or for desperately wanting a piece of pie, but Dean resigns himself
to another pie-less day. Its almost enough to make his storm out and go to the nearest McDonalds
and buy ten of their pies. He doesnt, but hes definitely tempted.
Especially when the timer goes off (Deans gotten almost nothing done) and Dean takes the pies
out. The apple pie had smelled good in the oven, but it smells heavenly now, and theres nothing
better than a home cooked pie fresh out of the oven. Dean sets the pies on cooling racks and goes
back to the table to try and muddle through A Raisin in the Sun.
Plays arent his favorite type of literature, and hes not all that invested in Walters problems. He
feels bad for Beneatha. He gets that the two potential lovers are supposed to represent the two
conflicting sides of her, but he doesnt understand why she has to choose. Why does she have to
be one or the other? Why cant she be both?
Hes pretty sure theres something significant about this plant Mama keeps watering, and he jots
down a few notes to remind himself to look at its scenes once hes done with the play. That might
be a good essay topic. Or Bennies struggle though he might get a little ranty if he picks that.
His other problem with the play, aside from it being a play, is that its a bit of a downer. He
doesnt understand why all the stuff they read has to be depressing. Life sucks enough without
reading sucky literature. The point of reading is to escape. He doesnt want to escape to a world
even worse than the one hes living in.
He hears the clatter of a fork, and he glances up to see Cas, still across the table from him, but now
with a slice of pie. Dean glances back down at his play. He reads the same line five times before
he glances up again. Cas grins around a forkful of pie like he knows what a damn tease hes
being.
Its delicious, Cas says and Dean thinks hed appreciate the compliment more if he got to eat
some of his pie. As it is, hes determined to go back to his play and ignore Cas when a chunk of
apple falls off the fork. Cas catches it between his fingers, and he keeps his eyes on Deans as he
slides the piece of fruit between his lips. Dean knows its a sign of weakness, but he looks away
anyways.
Im sorry. Im being unkind. You want to pick what we watch tonight while I finish this up?
Not really, Dean thinks, but he doesnt want to sit here and watch Cas eat his pie so Dean gathers
up his schoolwork and heads into the living room. He skims through the TV guide, hesitating on
Star Wars, hesitating again on How to Train Your Dragon before landing on the Discovery
Channel. Theres something on about space that Dean doesnt care about, but Casll love it.
He sits cross-legged on the couch and rests his book on his ankles and goes back to reading.
Supernovas? Cas asks a few minutes later when he comes into the living room. You dont care
about this.

Dean shrugs. Its easy to tune out. He holds up his book, but Cas takes it out of his hands and
puts it on the floor. He takes the notebook next and replaces the pen with the remote before sitting
down on the couch.
Pick something you like. Anything.
Dean doesnt want to, but it doesnt seem like he has much choice. He doesnt remember what
channel Star Wars is on so he scrolls down to How to Train Your Dragon and settles down
against Cass chest. He forgets that hes supposed to be annoyed with Cas as Cas wraps his arms
around Deans waist. This is how Dean likes to fall asleep, cheek on Cass chest, strong arms
holding him.
I havent seen this one, Cas says, interrupting Deans thoughts.
Its good. Cute. Main character is sassy. Youll like him. Astrids pretty sweet too.
Astrid?
Shh, Dean says, shifting to get more comfortable. Watch the movie. Youll see.
***
The pie is a menace. Cas takes the cherry to the office, but the apple pie stays home, and Cas only
eats small slices so its there every day of the week, sitting on the counter, taunting Dean
whenever hes in the kitchen. By Friday, Deans almost gone out of his mind. His only relief is
that theres only one slice left. He probably wont get a piece but as long as the damned thing is
gone, he doesnt even care anymore.
Well, he tells himself that, but it doesnt quite work out like that. Because as soon as dinner is over
and Cas asks Dean to heat up the last piece (the last piece) Deans hunger comes back full force.
Its been way too fucking long since he had a slice of pie, and Cas is about to eat the last piece,
and thatll be three pies Deans personally baked that he hasnt gotten a taste of. He tries to keep
the scowl off his face as he gives Cas his plate of warmed pie.
You want a slice of cheese or some ice cream or something? Dean asks.
Cas shakes his head and digs in. He doesnt eat as precisely as usual, and Dean considers it a sign
that hes watched Cas eat too much pie recently that he can distinguish Cass usual pie eating
behavior from what hes doing now. The fork doesnt go through as cleanly and pie filling is
smeared (wasted) across the bottom of the plate. Dean knows, because when Cas is done eating,
he holds the plate out to Dean, and Dean can see the thick, sweet filling on the bottom of the plate.
Theres even a small piece of apple clinging to the plate that Cas has missed, and Deans eyes are
immediately drawn to it. His mouth waters, and he wants. He wants so badly it scares him, and he
reaches his hands up to take the plate.
You want me to wash it? Its going to be the damn blueberry pie all over again. Maybe Dean
will actually lick the plate this time. Hes just about desperate enough to.
Cas pulls the plate just out of reach, a guarded expression in his eyes. You want it? Cas asks,
and Dean doesnt even have to ask Cas to clarify. His face burns a dark red, and he looks away,
but inevitably, his eyes are drawn back to the plate, to the bit of apple, to the specks of cinnamon
he can see in the filling.
Yeah, he wants it. Enough that hes actually considering what Cas is asking. His mouth waters,
his hands itch to close around the plate, he wants to taste the sickly sweet apple filling, but at the
same time his gut churns at the thought. He cant. He wants to, its embarrassing and he hates

himself a little for it, but he wants to, hes just not sure he can.
His eyes flick up to Cass for help. He wants one of those hands to let go of the plate, fist in
Deans hair and shove him forward. He wants Cas to grind his face in the plate, to make him do
this, because at least then its okay if Dean enjoys it.
But Cas shakes his head. Im not going to force you. Your choice.
Deans eyes flutter shut, because this isnt fair. His face is beet red with what Cas is offering, with
the fact that he wants to do it. Hes desperate enough to, thats for sure. Its been weeks, and he
wonders if this has been the lesson. If Deans denied long enough hell do anything. Only, he
hasnt done it yet.
Dean looks at the plate again. The apple is slowly but surely sliding down the plate. Maybe if
Dean waits long enough itll slip off and he can catch it before it hits the ground. No, if hes going
to do this, hes going to do it right. He shifts his weight, amazed to find himself hard at the thought
of licking the plate clean, and a new wave of shame washes through him. But then he hears Cass
sharp intake of breath, and when Dean looks up, theres desire, thick and undeniable in Cass
eyes.
And thats the final push Dean needs. He covers Cass hands with his, keeping Cass hands there,
keeping them connected, and then Dean leans in to lick at the plate.
Shit, Cas breathes, quiet like hes afraid to break the spell, and the plate trembles in Cass hands,
but Dean holds them still as he flattens his tongue and drags it up the plate. He keeps going until
the plate is clean, until tears prickle in Deans eyes, and hes never felt so conflicted in his life. He
savors the taste of apple on his tongue, yet hes disgusted. He wants Cas to pull him onto his lap,
yet he wants Cas to shove him away and confirm Deans worst fears.
The first tear spills over, and the second quickly follows, and Dean sinks back on his heels, his
hands slipping away from Cass, and he drops his eyes to the floor. He cant look at Cas right
now. Which, of course, is why Cas sets the plate on the table and the his hands cup Deans face,
thumbs brushing away Deans tears.
And then hes pulling Dean up until Deans astride his lap, and theyre kissing, and Cas grinds
their hips together, and Deans inexplicably hard, and it confuses him that he can feel the twist of
shame on the heels of desire, and he doesnt like that his body doesnt make sense, but Cass lips
are insistent, stripping away Deans thoughts until theres only feeling; the warmth of Cass hands
on his cheeks, the gentle pressure of Cass teeth on Deans bottom lip. And Dean gives himself
into it. He doesnt want to think, and Cas is giving him an outlet. He sinks into feeling, lets himself
get dragged under, because Cas can be trusted.
They continue to kiss until Deans head his muddled, until his limbs are heavy and everythings
hazy and then Deans head slides to Cass shoulder, his face tucked into Cass neck, and Cas
holds him tight, murmurs things like, you did so well, and you were so good, and youre
beautiful, you know that? And Dean wants to curl away from the words, hide from them,
because how could that be good or beautiful? He should be ashamed; he shouldnt feel warm and
pleased and content.
But he does.
So he stays in Cass arms as Cass hands rub soothingly up and down his back, and he listens to
Cass words, and eventually the tears and the trembling stop, and he feels oddly at peace.

Chapter 24
Chapter Notes

Warnings: Alcohol as a coping mechanism

July winds into August, and Deans classes are going to end soon, and hes going to start new
ones, but Sams going to start school too, and that means hes leaving, and Dean doesnt want to
think about it. He throws himself into his school work and the garage and he pushes at Cass until
Cas takes him to the place where Dean doesnt have to think; where his world is narrowed down
to Cas and how Cas makes him feel.
Dean keeps up a relentless pace, and it all comes grinding to a halt one Friday halfway into
August. Deans been go-go-go, but tonight theres no Cas to go see, and he doesnt even have any
homework to do.
Theres some fancy celebrity party (at the Milton Mansion), and Cas is being dragged along by
Michael, and he and Dean have talked about it (in great length, because Cas is expected to bring a
date, and Dean doesnt understand why it matters that hes okay with it, but Cas had assured him
that he and Rachel are only friends and nothing sexual will happen tonight) but it still manages to
sneak up on him, and Dean feels awkward and out of place at Bobbys on a Friday night.
The feeling doesnt last long, because Sam comes bounding into the living room with a two liter
bottle of Mountain Dew and a package of Twinkies, and he skids to a halt when he spies Dean,
guilt flashing clear as day across his face.
Uh, hi? Sam says.
Dean doesnt take his eyes off the junk food. Since when does his health nut of a brother eat
Twinkies? Is that a question? Not sure if you want to say hi? Dean cant help teasing, because
Sams his little brother, and Deans allowed to be a bit of a dick.
Sam flushes bright red. No. No, not a question. Just, surprise. Usually you arent home.
Yeah. Deans eyes flick from Sams treasures to the TV. Am I interrupting some Friday night
ritual?
N-no.
Sam is possibly the worst liar Dean has ever met. Should I tell Bobby youre buying porn off his
TV?
Dean! Sams eyes are wide, scandalized. Its not like that. I was just going to watch some TV,
but if youre in here then its no big deal.
Dean motions to the blank screen. Clearly, Im not watching anything. Pop a squat. Share a
Twinkie and you can watch whatever the hell you want.
Sam shuffles awkwardly, takes a bit of a step back. Naw, not a big deal.

What the hell has gotten Sam so freaked out? Whats worse to be caught watching than porn?
Dean doesnt have long to contemplate the question before Meg, one of Sams school friends,
appears in the room a giant bag of trail mix clutched in her arms.
What are you doing? she demands, giving Sam a shove into the room. Were going to miss the
beginning and thats the best part! She plops down on the couch and switches on the TV,
ignoring Sams spluttering. A moment later, theyre on E!, a channel Deans pretty sure has never
been watched on this TV, and Megs settling in to watch the coverage of the Celebrity Summer
Fling. Aka, the party Cas is at.
Huh, Dean says, and he glances up at his brother who is still hovering near the door like hes
going to make a break for it at any second. Want me to run down to the store and get some nail
polish or something?
Meg smacks Deans shoulder with the remote. Lay off. This is going to be good. Besides, Sams
only watching because I told him I wouldnt go to Tracys graduation party with him if he didnt.
Dean raises his eyebrows. Youre doing this for a date?
Meg laughs and offers Dean some trail mix. Please, your brother isnt my type. No, Im going as
his date so Tracys family doesnt kidnap him and force him to marry her. They think Sam is the
most darling boy theyve ever met. Meg rolls her eyes. Sickening, and we wouldnt even be
going to the party, but her familys loaded, and theyre pulling out all the stops. So, were going to
go, have a bit of fun, maybe share a kiss or two and thatll be that.
I still dont see what this has to do with that. Dean motions to the television screen. Brad and
Angelina show up, holding hands and smiling for the camera, and they laugh about how this is
date night for them, the kids all with a sitter and that prompts a series of questions about the kids
and the possibility of more, and Dean doesnt really care about that. He cares about Cas, and if
hes being honest, he kind of wants a glimpse of the mysterious Michael.
Eh, not much. Meg laughs as Sam finally sits down in the arm chair, knees pulled up his chest.
I just like making Sam miserable. She laughs again and makes a grabby motion with her hand
until he tosses her a Twinkie.
Youre kind of cool, Dean says. Why didnt I know my brother had cool friends?
Probably because youre never around, she says, and Deans pretty sure she doesnt mean it to
be offensive, but it digs at him a little, and he puts his handful of trail mix back, no longer in the
mood to snack.
Ugh, look at that dress, Meg says, oblivious, her nose wrinkling at the white dress Jennifer
Lawrence is wearing. Its long and flowey, and the back is sheer except for the white lace angel
wing designs, and Dean doesnt know much about dresses or fashion but he thinks its pretty cool.
He says as much and Meg scoffs. Angel motif is so lame. I mean, white and angel imagery? Just
stick a unicorn horn on her and she can be the poster child for overuse of virgin tropes.
What?
Someone didnt pay attention in high school English, Meg mutters.
They continue to watch as people pour in, and every time the anchor spots a new guest, Deans
heart leaps but its never Cas. Hes starting to think that Cas lied or something, but then the anchor
gasps and points to the mansion where the great double doors are being opened.
And now the host themselves are about to arrive.

Managed to be late to their own party, Meg scoffs. Thats taking place at their house. That
takes skill.
Dean wants to hush her, but he manages to hold back. He cant stop himself from leaning
forward, like getting closer to the TV will make the Miltons walk out of their house faster. The
first to walk out is a beautiful woman in a cream dress that has a corset built into it, cinching her
waist tight, keeping her posture perfect. She smiles, brilliant white teeth, but it doesnt reach her
eyes, and they have a haunted look about them. The man next to her has an arm around her waist,
holding her against his side.
Anna Milton and her date, Uriel Desdemones. Hes the producer for Rebel Angels, one of the
networks most popular shows. Next, we have Castiel Milton and his date, Rachel Simian.
Sources tell us theyre attending simply as friends, but well keep a close eye on them tonight, see
if there might be something more between them.
Cas is in a form fitting suit, the fabric expensive and with a bit of sheen to it, and the jacket cuts
close to his body, highlighting the slenderness of his torso. His sky blue dress shirt also has a shine
to it, and the tie is gunmetal gray, and the knot rests snugly against his neck. He smiles, but Dean
can see the tension in his shoulders, in the tightness around his mouth. He looks uncomfortable
and unhappy, and Deans willing to bet that Cas didnt get to pick out his clothes for this evening.
Deans tempted to take out his phone and text Cas something to make him relax, to make his smile
more genuine, but thats out of bounds, and Dean shouldnt even be tempted to do something like
that. Only, theyve been crossing lines like that a lot lately. Deans let Cas dictate what Dean can
or cant do on his own time, Cas got him off over the phone a month ago, theyve started texting
regularly throughout the day, because Cas gets bored at work and Dean likes that hes the one Cas
chooses to talk to. The lines between work and not work are blurring, and if Deans been honest
with himself, they havent been clear for a very long time, but hes not making any move to
redraw them with a more permanent marker.
Megs whistle distracts Dean from his thoughts. That is one fine man, she says as the E!
correspondent gives a brief background on Cas.
Something jealous and ugly and possessive rises up in Dean. Isnt he a bit old for you?
Doesnt stop me from dreaming. Meg smirks and stretches out, her shirt riding up. And what
steamy dreams they are. Do you see those hands? Girl could have a lot of fun with those hands.
Dean scowls and shoves a handful of trail mix into his mouth to keep him from saying anything.
Cas isnt his. They have a mutually beneficial arrangement right now, and theyre exclusive within
that arrangement, but the arrangement isnt meant to be permanent. Dean doesnt get to loop his
arm around Cass waist and growl at anyone who gets too close. And hello, more unwelcome
thoughts. Deans been getting more and more of those lately.
Theyre saved from Megs commentary on Cas when Michael swaggers out, a girl in a gold plated
mini-dress on his arm. Hes tall, has short cut, dark brown hair, and he gives the camera an easy
smile thats probably supposed to be seductive but it makes Deans stomach twist.
Dickbag, Meg says. Bring the cute one back.
Youre not a fan of Michael? Dean asks.
Meg rolls her eyes. Hes an overrated douchebag. Now, Lucifer? Thats a brother I can get
behind. Have you seen him before? Guy is smokin.

Dean looks over Megs head at Sam, but Sam just shrugs like he cant be blamed for his friends
taste in men. They watch the Miltons interact with their guests for a while, the camera follows
Michael instead of Cas unfortunately, and Dean watches him schmooze with increasing disgust.
This is the guy whos made Cas so miserable, and hes smiling and flirting and enjoying his life
like his entire success isnt based on intimidation and crushing his familys dreams.
Ooh boy, this is gonna be good, Meg says and she leans forward in her chair.
Dean doesnt get it. All the cameras done is zoom in on a new arrival, someone in a swanky
black limo, but plenty of people have shown up in black limos. But the correspondent is on the
run, rushing over to greet the man who steps out of the limo. Hes in a full white suit, bold move
Dean thinks, and theres a red rose tucked into the pocket instead of a handkerchief, and he flashes
the camera a dazzling smile. Meg sighs happily.
And this is Lucifer Milton, the correspondent says. You havent been to one of these parties in
years.
Lucifer shrugs, a fluid roll of his shoulders. My invitation keeps getting lost in the mail. Its a
shame, isnt it? I mean, this is a family party after all. And Im not the only one slighted. In fact,
my dear brother Gabriel appears to have been forgotten too, but dont worry, I brought him along
as my date.
Lucifer reaches into the limo and comes out with a cardboard cutout, and Deans thoughts about
how thats a weird ass thing to do are cut short when he sees whos on the cutout. Its Gabriel. Its
short, sandy haired Gabriel who likes drinks that are too sweet and pastries with too much fat.
Gabriel Milton is Deans Gabriel? That means
Holy shit.
Dean cant handle this. No way. No fucking way.
He pushes up off the couch, ignoring Megs little remark and Sams worried eyes, and he makes
up a BS excuse and gets outside, because he needs to be somewhere else. He goes outside via the
kitchen so he can grab the bottle of Jack Bobby keeps hidden behind the sugar and the flour, and
he goes to his drinking spot. Hes shielded by the shed on one side and busted up cars on the
other, and he takes a too long drink, coughing and spluttering as it burns down his throat.
Gabriel is a Milton? As in Cass freaking brother?
Holy shit.
Gabriel set Dean up with his brother. Dean is fucking Gabriels brother. And getting paid for it.
Deans talked to Gabriel about Cas. Gabriels called to check in on Dean after Deans gotten
fucked six ways from Sunday by Gabriels brother.
Theres not enough alcohol in the world for this.
How is this even his life? How had Cas sat across from Gabriel at the first meeting and been so
nonchalant about it? His brother was playing matchmaker for him. Theyve both known this
whole time. Deans the only one whos been out of the loop and it burns at him.
He takes another angry swallow of whiskey, and thunks his head against the shed. By the time
hes worked up a good buzz, hes decided calling Gabriel would be a good idea. The phone goes
straight to voicemail and Dean leaves a succinct message, You son of a bitch.
He tosses his phone after that and as soon as he finishes off the whiskey, he throws that too. The

glass shatters upon impacting one of the cars, and Dean laughs and sinks to the ground in a pile of
loose limbs.
The next thing Deans aware of is the world moving around him, and he opens his eyes and
regrets it immediately, because the world is tilting and spinning and moving, and he orients
himself enough to get his mouth down before hes vomiting.
Aw hell, boy, comes Bennys gruff voice. At least you missed my shoes.
Dean makes a pitiful answer in response, his body trembling in the aftermath of his vomiting. The
hands on him shift, hefting him back up, and Dean curls into Bennys chest, because hes tired
and his head hurts and his mouth tastes like shit and all he wants is his bed.
In the morning hell probably be embarrassed that he got so drunk he had to be carried to bed by
his dads AA sponsor, but for night now, hes only grateful when Benny puts him down on the air
mattress, careful so Dean doesnt bounce and upset his stomach even more. Deans half-asleep by
the time Benny steps back, but he sort of remembers the press of a damp washcloth against his
face, and he thinks he might feel a hand brush through his hair but its also entirely possible hes
dreaming. Then, everything goes quiet and dark and he sleeps.
***
As soon as Dean wakes up, he wishes he hadnt. His body aches, and his eyelids stick together,
and his mouth tastes like complete shit. He rolls onto his stomach, but the movement makes the air
mattress wobble, and Dean feels like hes going to be sick.
He makes it to the toilet just in time, puking a few times before his stomach settles. Surprisingly,
he feels much better. Hes still exhausted, but he doesnt feel sick anymore. He rinses out his
mouth, brushes his teeth, and wanders back into the bedroom to try and sleep a little longer.
The next time he gets up, for real this time, its pushing noon, and he has a text from Gabriel.
Got your voicemail. Not sure how much you remember. We should talk. Panera when
youre up for it?
It takes Dean a moment or two to figure why Gabriels texting him, but as soon as he does, his
anger comes rushing back to him. Because Gabriel is scheming, creepy son of a bitch, and no,
Dean doesnt want to go to Panera with him.
But, Gabriels making an effort which means he possibly acknowledges that hes done something
wrong, and its not like he told Dean to meet him in his office. Panera is a neutral place, and it
means Dean cant scream and shout and possibly punch Gabriel the way he wants to, but its
probably better that way. Besides, Panera has soup. Soup that comes in bowls that are made out of
bread.
Fine, Dean texts back, Meet you there in 30. Youre paying.
Dean doesnt wait for an answer. He tosses his phone on his mattress and goes to take a quick
shower. By the time hes out, hes feeling a little more human, and hes got fifteen minutes to walk
down to Panera. Its a nice day for a walk, though Dean has to wear his aviators, because the sun
is too bright for his eyes. When he gets to Panera, its less crowded than hed expect for a
Saturday afternoon which means theres one open table, and the line doesnt snake around the
whole floor.
Gabriel waves at him from about halfway through the line, and theres a spark of anger-rage-

betrayal before Dean takes a deep breath and shakes his shoulders out. He manages a smile as he
goes to join Gabriel in line. Morning.
Afternoon, Gabriel counters, flashing a quick smile, and Deans almost relieved that hes still
being his assholeish self. If hed tried to pander to Deans ego or was walking on eggshells then
Dean probably wouldve walked out.
Yeah. Havent had a night like that in a long time. Since he started working for Cas, Dean
thinks, and he doesnt say it, but hes pretty sure Gabriel hears it anyways.
You sounded wrecked on the phone.
Dean would apologize, but hes not sorry. I cant stomach my liquor anymore. Ellen would be
ashamed.
Your liver probably appreciates it.
Dean shrugs, conceding the point. They get their way to the front of the line, and Dean gets a
Sprite and chicken noodle soup in a bread bowl, and he wished he was feeling up to something
more substantial, but he supposes this is his punishment for his binge last night. Gabriel, of course,
gets a giant cinnamon bun and a chocolate frosted brownie.
Your diet is atrocious, Dean says.
Whatever. At least Im happy.
Once they get their food, they head back to the table in the corner Gabriel had managed to snag,
and they eat in mostly silence for a few minutes, before Gabriel sighs and puts down his nibbled at
brownie.
Can we talk about this so I can get my appetite back? Gabriel asks.
Dean stops ripping his bread into smaller and smaller pieces. What is there to talk about?
Well, for starters, Lucifer is my brother, and I love him, but he is a great big bag of dicks.
Dean tries hard not to crack a smile at that, but the corners of his lips twitch.
I left the family a long time ago, Gabriel says. I didnt get kicked out, Im not harboring the
resentments he clearly is, and Ive been doing fine on my own, but his little stunt has called
unwanted attention to me. Gabriel takes a vicious bite out of his brownie. So, yes, Im one of
the Miltons which makes me Cass brother. Is that going to be a problem?
Dean gapes, his soup spilling off his spoon and back into its bowl. Hed expected deflection or
maybe Gabriel to attempt to justify what hed done. Dean hadnt expected blunt honesty, and hes
not sure how to react to it.
Uh,
Gabriel rolls his eyes, but theres a bit of relief in his expression. You had a lot more to say last
night. Run out of insults?
Dean doesnt remember everything he said, he doesnt even remember a second phone call, but he
knows hes got a nasty temper, and he knows drinking only makes it worse, so it doesnt take
much imagination to guess at some of the things he said. A flush rises up his neck, and Dean
ducks his head. Im sorry. I was way out of line. It caught me off guard, and I didnt react well.

Thats certainly an understatement, Gabriel says, and he waves Dean off before Dean can snap
back at him. Look, I get that youre pissed, and I didnt come here to rehash last nights phone
calls. I want to remind you that everything I told you when you first signed on with me is true. I
take employee-client confidentiality very seriously. I dont talk to my clients about their
employees, and I dont talk to my employees about their clients. Even if one of those clients
happens to be my brother. Gabriel catches Deans gaze and holds it. Youre my priority, Dean.
Not the client.
You really expect me to believe that if your brother fucked up then youd take my side over his?
Something close to anger flashes through Gabriels eyes. Yes. But if you dont believe me or if
you think this changes things then we should cut the contract now. I dont want you going to Cas
if you feel unsafe or if you feel like youve been tricked.
Had he been tricked? Does he feel unsafe? The answer to the second one is definitely no. Hes not
too sure about the first one. Hes thinking clearer this morning than he was yesterday, and Cas has
never done anything to make Dean feel unsafe, and the fact that hes related to Deans boss
doesnt change that. And he doesnt actually think that Gabriel had taken Dean under his wing
with the eventual goal of setting him up with his brother in mind, but something still doesnt sit
right with Dean. Maybe its his paranoia that they sit around and talk about him. Maybe its
something else. Either way, hes not quitting, but hes definitely not going to be talking to Gabriel
about the job anymore.
All those times I came to talk to you? Dean asks, and hes not sure if he can finish that sentence.
Because hes gone to Gabriel about Cas a couple of times, and Gabriel makes a habit of checking
in with Dean every now and again, and this whole time, Gabriel has been Cass brother. When
Dean basically admitted that he cared about Cas more than he should during the whole check
fiasco, Gabriel had been Cass brother. Admitting to his boss that his feelings strayed from
professional to personal is bad enough, but admitting it to his clients brother?
Dean, Gabriel starts, but Dean cuts him off with a shake of his head.
Im not quitting, but we cant do this anymore. Youre my boss. Thats it. No more coming to
Gabriel with questions or problems. No more Gabriel calling to check in.
Dean,
Dean shakes his head again, and he stands up, taking his tray with him. Im going to go finish my
soup over there. There are no more tables so he sits on a windowsill, tray propped up on his legs
and eats his soup. Its not as good as it usually is, and he pretends its because its gotten cold.

Chapter 25
Deans feeling better until he gets to Cass Sunday night. Hes had it out with Gabriel, but there
were two people involved with this deception, and its a struggle for Dean to strip down. His
fingers are awkward and clumsy and feel about three times their usual size. When he gets to his
collarforget it. He fumbles with the clasp twice before he throws it on the floor, frustrated and
not in the mood for complications.
Dean? Cass voice is quiet, concerned, and he hovers by the door to the kitchen as he watches
to make sure Deans okay.
Im, Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Im sorry. I didnt mean to throw it. Except he did. Because
hes pissed, and he shouldnt be apologizing. Cas makes him want to apologize, to be better, but
why the hell should he?
Actually, no, Dean says, Im not sorry. He fights the urge to cover himself up, and its been a
long time since he felt self-conscious about being naked here.
Cas freezes, shocked, and then understanding passes over his face. You watched the party
coverage.
Yeah. And another time Dean might recognize and appreciate that Gabriel didnt give Cas a
heads up, that Gabriel might have been telling the truth when he said they dont talk about Dean,
but not right now. Because right now, Dean is hurting, and he doesnt want to be sympathetic or
grateful. He wants to break something. Because maybe he can get where Gabriel was coming
from. Gabriels trying to stay on the down low, hes trying to keep himself hidden away, and its
not like he and Dean are friends or anything. Theres no reason why Gabriel should trust Dean
with who he really is.
But Cas? Cas shouldve. Because this whole damn thing theyre doing is supposedly about trust,
about being truthful with each other, and Dean doesnt know what to do. If this had been about
anything else, if before this weekend Dean had felt off-balance, uncertain about Cas he wouldve
called up Gabriel. He cant do that now.
And maybe thats the root of all this. Dean had no clue what he was doing when he first started
doing this. It was Gabriel that saved him from ending up dead or broken, had straightened him
out, made him feel safe. It was Gabriel who answered all Deans embarrassed questions, who set
him at ease after his sessions. Gabriels is Deans only link to this world apart from Deans clients,
the only person Dean could really talk to, and now that Dean cant talk to him he doesnt know
what hes supposed to do.
Dean realizes hes still standing in the middle of the entryway, staring at his upturned hands. He
doesnt know what to do with them. The collars on the floor, but he doesnt want to bend down
and pick it up. He kind of wants to dig his nails into his skin until he feels something besides anger
and hurt and betrayal. He also wants to ball his hands into fists and punch Cas across the jaw.
Hes frozen, incapable of moving, because there are too many options and none of them are good,
and Dean doesnt know what to do.
Finally, after a shaky exhale, he crosses his wrists behind his back, and he sinks to his knees.
Dean, Cas breathes, quiet like hes afraid hes going to spook Dean.
Please, Dean says, and there are tears in his eyes, and he hates them and wishes they werent

there. Wishes he was stronger. Wishes a lot of things. Help me.

Cas is at his side in a moment, and he brushes Deans tears away with his thumbs. Im sorry,
Cas says, and he cups Deans face, presses their foreheads together. Im sorry. You shouldve
known. I shouldve told you. You shouldnt have found out that way. Cass hands cling almost
desperately to Deans face like hes afraid that at any moment Deans going to turn his head away,
like hes going to walk out the door.
Deans not sure how long they stay like that, kneeling on the hardwood floor, forehead to
forehead. Its long enough that his knees ache. Long enough that his tears dry. Long enough that
new ones take their place, because even though Deans confused and upset, this still feels right.
Hes inside out and upside down, and he doesnt know what to do, but with Cas holding him
steady he thinks everything might be alright in the end.
***
Dean needs to find someone new to talk to. His head is a jumbled mess, and since most of it has to
do with Cas, he doesnt want to talk to Cas about it, and Gabriels no longer an option, and Dean
has no idea where to start finding someone hes comfortable enough with to talk about this. Bobby
is a definite no, so is dad and so is Sam. No family. Deans sex life is off limits with them. He
briefly considers Benny, but things are still hazy between them, and hes on dads side not Deans.
He thinks about Victor, but he already has to put up with all Deans academic shit. He doesnt
need to be burdened with Deans sex life.
And that ends the list of people Dean talks to on a regular basis. Its kind of sad when he thinks
about it, so he tries not to think about it too much.
Tuesday at the garage, Deans finishing up his shift when Charlie snaps a towel at him. It catches
the inside of his thigh, and hes grateful he jeans are thick enough that the blow doesnt sting.
Dont you have better things to be doing? Dean asks, but his grin is almost as big as Charlies,
because its nice to come into work and forget about the shit storm waiting for him when his shift
ends. He can lose himself in the cars, in easy banter with Charlie or Ashs ramblings.
What are you complaining for? You liked it.
Its a stupid, harmless comment, and Dean shouldnt freeze up the way he does, because its super
obvious, and he knows hes made a mistake as soon as Charlies lips part in a little oh. Her
eyebrows go up, and she looks from Deans rapidly reddening face to his ass, contemplative.
You liked it? she says, more of a question now, and quieter so no one will hear them over the
bustle of the garage.
Dean should deflect. He should lie. He should storm out. He certainly shouldnt flash a smile and
tell her, You didnt get enough on it.
Charlies eyebrows climb even higher. Is that an invitation?
And yep, Deans definitely in territory he doesnt want to be in. Charlies a coworker and an
acquaintance, and shes not his type; plus, he already has someone he likes, and Dean stumbles
over a crate in his haste to get away, but Charlie catches his arm and steadies him before he lands
on his ass.
She takes the hand off as soon as hes stable, and the teasing is gone out of her eyes now. I think
Im going to punch out early today, and youre going to take me to get an ice cream.
Okay, Dean says, automatic and then he realizes that shes probably getting this all wrong, and

he shouldnt just agree to things even if its easier, safer, more comfortable. Wait. I, Dean looks
away, I have someone.
Charlie grins and she loops her arm through Deans. Then were definitely getting that ice cream.
You are full of surprises.
Yeah? Deans waiting for her smile to turn sharp, for her to start laughing at him, for her to pull
away and yell psyche and then go tell everyone what a freak he is.
Like she can read his mind, Charlie pulls him tighter. You can relax. Its fine. Well each get a
blizzard, and you can tell me about your secret life, and I can tell you about mine. Because you?
You look like you need someone to talk to. You are wound way too tight.
Dean cant argue with that, and he doesnt want to. They go punch their time cards and wash up
in the sink and then head out down the street for Dairy Queen.
***
Deans far more settled when he gets to Cass that night. He cooks dinner, letting the routine
soothe him, and his hands dont so much as hesitate when he strips down and fold his pants and
puts them by the door.
Cas notices the change right away, and he smiles as he comes into the kitchen and when he sits
down to dinner, he gives Deans shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Good day?
Dean nods, muscle loosening, the last of the weekends tension easing away after the touch.
Found someone to talk to.
Good, Cas says, and he looks like he means it.
Dean smiles, natural and unforced, because it is good. He hadnt expected Charlie to be the kind
of girl that likes to tie other girls up, but, as Charlie had pointed out, Dean didnt appear at first
glance as the kind of guy who likes to kneel naked in another dudes kitchen. And yet.
Shes mostly into bondage. Like intense stuff. She has a whole binder full of rope patterns and
step by step instructions. She offered to show it to me sometime.
Is that something you think youd be interested in?
Dean shrugs. Hes had his wrists tied together, and once or twice hes had his arms tied behind his
back wrist to elbow, and hes been tied spread eagled tons of times, but never anything as
elaborate as what Charlie told him about. Some of them sounded terrifyinglike the one where
you were almost cocoonedand some kind of freaked him outsuspension makes him nervous,
but he might be able to try it with Casbut some of the other stuff, where it was about framing
the body, he liked those ones. And he liked the way Charlie described itthe rope tight enough
so her sub felt like Charlie was still holding her even after shes moved onto the next section.
Maybe.
If you see anything you like while youre looking through her book, make a copy and bring it to
me, and we can talk about it.
Okay.

Cas hands down a piece of cucumber, dipped in ranch dressing, and Dean opens his mouth and
accepts it even though hes already had dinner. Of course, a DQ hot dog and large peanut butter
cup Blizzard probably doesnt constitute dinner. Cas continues to feed Dean bits of his salad
cucumbers, carrots, peppers, the occasional tomatoand talks about his day. As always, its in
broad details, and Dean gets the sense that Cas is getting increasingly unhappy at work.
When are you going to quit? Dean asks after a rather bland story about Cass struggle with the
copy machine.
If my thesis gets approved then Ill give my two weeks notice and be done. If not then I continue
to suffer.
Itll get approved.
My original advisor has long since retired, Cas says handing down a half a cherry tomato, but
there is some interest. Its a slow process, because Im trying to be discreet and avoid Michael
finding out what Im doing. Cas wipes his mouth with his napkin. But, enough depressing talk.
How are your classes?
They move into safer territory, and soon theyre in the living room, and Cas is putting some
fishing show on. Like last night, Cas gives Dean the option of kneeling on the floor or joining him
on the couch, and tonight, Dean slides into Cass lap, knees tucked firmly against Cass hips.
How are you going to watch if your back is to the TV? Cas asks.
Dean laughs and ducks his head so he can kiss his way up Cass neck. Who said I was going to
watch?
Dean. Cas pushes gently on Deans shoulders, and Dean obligingly sits back on Cass legs,
putting space between them.
I want to do this, Dean promises. You acknowledged my feelings and you apologized. You let
me be angry and you gave me space. Now, I want to kiss you.
Cas smiles, obviously pleased, but his hands keep Dean from leaning in again. My rules, he
says, and he doesnt miss the way Dean shudders, the way Deans tongue darts out to wet his lips,
excited to see what Cas has in store for tonight. Commercials are yours. Cas skims his palms
down Deans arms then back up to his shoulders. The regular show is mine, and I want you on
my lap, facing the TV. Understand?
Dean nods and glances over his shoulder. Some middle aged man is staring at a Honda Accord
like it has the secrets to fix his marriage, and Dean turns back to Cas with a smile. He tips Cass
head back again so he can kiss up Cass neck, along his jaw, back down the other side. He likes
the way Cas holds himself still and lets Dean work. He likes the bob of Cass Adams Apple as he
swallows even better. Dean lays another kiss there, feels it move under his lips. He kisses his way
down to the hollow of Cass collarbone, and he presses his lips against the skin, not really a kiss,
and just stays there for a moment, breathing in.
Because this is Cas under him, his Cas, who he might have lost, and hes glad he didnt. Theres
still some residual anger, and theres some work to be done before things are good again, and
Deans unsure if things with Gabriel will ever be good again, but at least Dean still has this. It
worries him how much hed miss Cas if this were to end right now, and the thought makes his
fingers curl around Cass torso, hold their bodies together as if someone was with them and trying
to pull Dean away.

Hey, Cas says, his hands a reassuring touch as they curve over Deans. Youre wasting time.
Dean wants to say that its not a waste of time, cant be, because hes touching Cas, because Cas
is touching him, but that reveals too much. So instead, he smiles, says, Better get started then,
and nips at Cass ear.
He focuses on Cass face, his hands trail down the curve of Cass ears, card through his hair,
smooth over his forehead. He kisses the arch of his eyebrows, the tip of his nose, the corners of his
lips. He wants to memorize every inch of Cass face, he wants to hold it, keep it, cherish it, and
the intensity with which he wants terrifies him.
He rubs his cheek against the first pricklings of Cass beard, and tomorrow will be a shaving
morning, because Cas likes to be smooth faced. Dean likes himself with a bit of stubble, but
sometimes Cas likes to sit him on the counter, step between his legs, and shave off every remnant
of a beard.
Dean turns his head, about to (finally) press a kiss against Cass lips when Cass hands catch his
face, hold him in place.
My turn, Cas says, and Dean obligingly turns so hes facing the TV. Dean likes to fish. He likes
sitting at the edge of the dock early in the morning, a cup of coffee in one hand, a fishing pole in
the other. He likes the silence, he likes to watch the sunrise. He doesnt care much for watching
fishing on TV. He cant smell the fresh morning fog as it rises from the ground or hear the forest
begin to wake up. Fishing is like golf, terribly boring unless youre the one doing it.
But then Cass hands sweep up the insides of Deans thighs, and Dean forgets all about fishing as
Cass thumbs inch closer to the crease of Deans thighs. They barely graze the sensitive skin there
before sliding back down towards Deans knees, and the frustration, along with the touch, makes
a slow burn start under his skin.
They have all night, Dean tells himself, and hes comfortable here, his back pressed against Cass
chest, his body cradled in Cass arms. Still, hed be more comfortable if Cas did more than tease.
On the third slow drag of Cass hands, Dean wriggles, spreads his legs in encouragement, and he
gets a light smack against his right thigh for his effort.
Still, Cas chides, and Dean wants to moan at the unfairness, especially as Cass nails graze the
same path his fingers have, the barely there touch lighting his nerve endings on fire. Deans hard
and aching, and he wants to curl his hands around something. He wants to writhe on Cass lap,
get Cas hard enough that he decides to fuck Dean instead of tease him. Hes not allowed to do any
of these so he drops his head back to Cass shoulder and lets his mouth hang open, dragging in
slow breaths to try and keep himself under control.
Hes mostly succeeding when Cas pinches a bit of Deans skin between his fingers, and its
unexpected, and a sharp sudden kind of pain, and Deans breath hitches and his body jerks, and
Cas makes a disappointed tsking sound in Deans ear. Thought I told you to stay still?
Youre not exactly playing fair, Dean says, letting his irritation get the better of him. He winces
as soon as the words are out of his mouth, wishes he could take them back. He cant, so he goes
completely still, hopes itll be enough, even though he knows it wont be.
Luckily, Cas decides to be amused, rather than angry, and his chuckle is low and filthy in Deans
ear. Mouth like that is going to get you into trouble. Maybe I should help you stay quiet.
Dean opens his mouth, and he probably wouldve gotten himself into more trouble, but Cas
shoves two fingers into Deans mouth, pressing his tongue down, and Deans protest comes out a

garbled unintelligent sound. Deans too shocked to do anything at first, and Cas nudges him to get
his attention.
Shut your mouth, Dean. Dont you have any manners?
The mocking tone is still there, and Deans face flushes with a mixture of embarrassment and
arousal, and he closes his mouth, lips tight around Cass fingers. Theyre heavy on his tongue,
taste faintly of sweat, of the salad dressing from dinner, and Dean sucks without being prompted.
At first, its an attempt to show that he can be good. When Cass hands drop to cup Deans balls
Deans sucks harder, because he needs to move, to react, but hes not allowed to jerk his hips or
push into the touch.
When Cas squeezes Deans balls, a playful tease, Dean cant help his reaction. His hands grasp
Cass forearm, hold Cass fingers in his mouth as Deans head tips back against Cass shoulders.
He clings to Cas like Cas is the only thing holding him together. He tries to tease back, flicks his
tongue against Cass fingers, curls it around the tips, but when Cass hand travels up, loops around
Deans hard on too loose to give any real relief, all Dean can do is suck furiously in an attempt to
keep his lower body still.
Mmm, Cas says and he draws his fingers out until he can paint Deans lips with his own saliva
and then he pushes them back in. Dean opens willingly around them. Hes on edge, and hes not
sure how much active participation hell be able to manage, but he can handle letting his jaw go
slack as Cas thrusts his fingers in and out. It clearly meets with Cass approval if the pleased hum
is anything to go by.
You want me to fuck you like this? Cas wonders, his hand lazily stroking Deans erection.
Fingers in your ass and your mouth? Bet youd like that. Filled at both ends, unable to move.
Youd have to take what I give you. But youre good at that, arent you?
Dean whimpers, and hes not sure if he wants a more substantive touch or more approval, and he
goes lax in Cass hold, trusting him to give Dean what he needs.
Yeah, Cas says, almost reverent, his lips brushing over the sweaty hair at Deans forehead. So
good for me.

Chapter 26
Chapter Notes

Warnings: flashbacks, trauma, threats, Dean goes to a bad place (none of this comes
from Cas)

Finals week goes by with minimum stress and after Deans last final, Victor takes Dean out to a
local bar and they have a beer and half-priced appetizers, and Victor congratulates Dean on a
semester well done. It makes Dean flush with pride, and hes excited for next semester (which
starts way too soon but hes not thinking about that), and hes excited that hes finally good at
something. Well, something that he can show to other people. At the end of all this, hell have a
diploma that he can hang on his wall or loft above his head, and people will know that he was
good enough to make it through school. If hes lucky, hell even get a job, and that will be another
hallmark of his success.
Hes not sure his diploma will ever satisfy him as much as the collar that rests around his neck, but
he cant show that off. Its for Cass apartment only, and he likes when Cas bites down on the
leather, loves the shudder that ripples through his body at the thought of Cas biting him like that.
He knows it would hurt, that it would break skin, but he cant deny the spark of want and desire
every time Cass teeth lock around the leather. He likes the way Cas will sometimes slip a finger
or two under the collar, pull it tight until theres pressure on Deans throat, until Deans fingertips
tingle. And when Cas eases off and the world rushes back at him, almost too much to take in at
once, Cass arms wrap around him, hold him through it.
What Dean likes the most about the collar, though, is its constant presence. He wears it every day,
but he doesnt forget its there. Its a reminder that hes wanted, that Cas has chosen him, that hes
good enough to wear Cass collar, and sometimes that makes Dean want to prove himself worthy
and sometimes he basks in the knowledge that Cas has chosen him for what he is and that is
enough.
Right now, Deans thumb rubs the leather of the collar while he kneels at Cass feet. Its a lazy
Saturday afternoon, one of Deans favorite times, and since Deans done with school he doesnt
have any work to do. Cas, on the other hand, has finally moved onto the new research part of this
thesis, and there are books spread out on either side of him on the couch, and he has a spiral
bound notebook on his lap.
Dean rests his head against Cass knee and lets himself drift, lulled by the peace of the moment.
Theres the scratch of Cass pen against paper, the occasional turning of the page, and sometimes
Cas will murmur a few thoughts or hell read a sentence out loud. Its easy to sink into the calm, to
let Cass studiousness surround him. Deans limbs are loose and pleasantly heavy, and he thinks
he could probably fall asleep like this.
Hes jolted out of his calm by a knock at the door, and his head smacks against Cass knee. Ow.
Cas rubs at Deans head even as he frowns in the direction of the door. No ones supposed to be
here. Dean tenses up, and Cas puts his notebook aside and stands. Ill take care of it.
He goes over to the door, but it opens before Cas even reaches the entryway, and Dean casts
around for a blanket, but its in the arm chair across the room from their cuddling last night, and

around for a blanket, but its in the arm chair across the room from their cuddling last night, and
Deans not sure if hes allowed to move, and Cas had promised to take care of it.
Michael, Cas says, and Deans back goes ramrod straight. Its a frosty greeting at best, and
Deans mind tips into panic, because hes heard enough about Michael to know hes a douchebag
and to know that Dean never wants to meet him. This is a surprise.
An older brother cant come say hi to his little brother?
Thats what they have phones for.
The voices stay in the other room, but the tension doesnt ease out of Deans shoulders. The
leather of the couch is cool to his touch, and hes unavoidably aware of the fact that hes naked.
He feels exposed, vulnerable in a way he isnt accustomed to. He rolls his shoulders trying to
shake the feeling of wrong.
Youre right, Michael says, I came here to check up on you. Youve been even more absent
from the social scene, and I heard youre growing distant at work. There are even rumors that
youre thinking of leaving us, Castiel.
So youre here to spy on me. Cass voice is closer than it was, and Dean presses his palms
against his thighs and tries to keep still, because theyre coming his way. Does he have the time to
run and hide in Cass room? Is he allowed to do that? Cas hadnt told him he could move, but he
hadnt told he couldnt either.
Im here to see what pretty distraction youve found for yourself. Andoh. The voices are
close now, and from the way the back of Deans neck prickles, he knows they can see him. He
keeps his forehead against the leather of the sofa. Be good, he tells himself. Keep your back to
them and youre safe. Dont let him see your face.
Definitely a distraction, Michael says, dismissal evident in his voice. His posture could use
some work.
Dean feels the criticism like a knife to his chest, and he wants to turn to look at Cas, he wants to
know if Cas wants him to kneel up straighter, if Cas is disappointed with him, but he doesnt want
to show Michael his face. He wants to stay hidden, but he needs Cas, and he doesnt know what
to do.
Scars? Michael asks, and Deans blood runs cold. Thats not your work, brother. Youre so out
of practice you had to get one already broken in? Dean cant help his flinch, and Michael laughs,
cold and impersonal, nothing like Cas and then a tip of a boot is digging into Deans skin. Not
quite so broken in. Maybe you need to put some marks of your own down there.
Dean panics. The tread of Michaels boot drags against Deans skin, a painful pull, a promise of
something Dean isnt going to like, and he moves before he registers what hes doing. He sweeps
out with his arm, catches the back of Michaels knee, and sends him to the ground. Dean vaults
over the couch to use the piece of furniture as a shield. Hes not going to let Michael hurt him. He
drops into a crouch then peeks his eyes over the back of the couch so he can keep an eye on the
threat.
Michaels sprawled on the ground, but he doesnt stay that way for long, springing to his feet, fury
and the intent to hurt written clearly across his face. Dean wants to back up. He wants to retreat to
Cass room and lock himself away. He also wants to grab the lamp off the side table and brandish
it like a weapon. No ones going to touch him. He wont let them.
Get out, Cas orders, his voice dangerously low. It snaps Dean out of his initial panic and sends

him spiraling down into a new one. Because thats Cass brother. Thats the man in charge of the
largest television network in the world, and Dean just knocked him on his ass. Deans supposed to
be good and quiet and not make a fuss, and he just attacked someone.
This is worse than showing up at Cass door drunk and unannounced. This is worse than pushing
Cas to pursue his thesis. This is worse than anything Deans done. This is grounds to fire him.
Dean wants to drop to his knees and plead. He wants to curl up and cry. He wants to grab his
clothes and run as far and as fast as he can.
Not you, Dean, Cas says, his voice almost gentle, and Dean doesnt realize hes moved until he
hears Cass voice. Please go wait for me in my bedroom. As for you, Michael, Cass tone turns
dark again. Consider this my two weeks notice. From the job and your life. I dont want to see
you here again.
Castiel, Michael says like hes lecturing a child, but Dean doesnt listen to the rest. He shuts the
door to the bedroom and, because Cas didnt say he couldnt, Dean turns the lock. He instantly
feels safer, but its not enough. Hes jittery with unused adrenaline, the remnants of his fear, the
lingering dregs of his anger, and hes torn between the need to pace, to get rid of some of the
excess energy and to curl into a ball and never move.
Neither instinct wins out, and he ends up sitting against the door, knees tucked up to his chest,
shivering as the muted sounds of an argument take place outside. Dean tunes them out as best as
he can. He wonders if Cas is going to yell at him once hes thrown Michael out. Just because he
hasnt punished Dean yet doesnt mean he wont.
What if he takes Michael up on his suggestion? What if he realizes that Michaels right and Dean
doesnt have the discipline Cas wants? The skin on Deans back prickles, and he holds himself
even tighter. He should run. He should grab some of Cass clothes and slip out the window.
Hes at the window before he realizes hes moved. He looks down at the ground; its too far to
jump, and theres no balcony or even a fire escape for him to drop onto. The window isnt an
escape. Had he trapped himself by coming here? Is that what Cas meant to do? Theres a door to
the living room and a door to the bathroom, but the bathroom is a dead end and the living room
means Michael and Cas himself.
Deans heart pounds, his breath comes in ragged gasps. Trapped. His fingers tremble, grasping air,
needing something to hold onto, and he can feel the edges of panic rising up, threatening to
consume him and then
A knock.
A knock at the door.
Dean, Cas says, his voice quiet, coaxing. Are you in there?
Of course Dean is in here. This is where Cas told him to go. Dean leans back against the window,
and the glass is cold against his skin, and he jumps and spins away because window and back and
the whole world could be out there seeing, judging, and somehow Dean ends up on the floor, and
he thinks he fell, because his knees are throbbing.
Dean? Cas is worried now, his voice louder, a touch sharper. Are you alright?
Is he alright? Dean chokes on his laugh, and the next wave of hysteria bubbles up, right on its
heels. Hes not alright. Hes scared and hes pissed and hes broken.
Dean, Cass voice comes again, cutting through Deans short bursts of laughter. Will you open

the door?
Dean goes still in an instant, cold now without his laughter to warm him.
Michaels gone, Cas says. Its only me. I want to make sure youre okay. Please, let me in.
Dean lifts his head up off the floor. The door is a long way away. Hes cold but hes safe here. He
doesnt know if out there is safe. Even if Michael is gone, Cas might be angry with Dean. He
might agree that Dean needs to be disciplined. That he needs to bear Cass marks.
Dean, please. If you wont open the door, say something.
Cas sounds desperate, scared even, and Dean crawls over to the door. He doesnt have the
strength to open it yet, but he does rest his head against it. Im here.
Good, Cas says, and theres rustling on the other side of the door, and Dean imagines that Cas is
pressing his palm against the wood, and its comforting though he thinks it would be more
comforting if he could feel that hand in his hair or curled around his shoulder. Suddenly, all he
wants is for Cas to hold him, wrap him up in his arms and makes this all better; promise that
Michael will never come back, promise that he loves Dean the way he is, promise that hell never
hurt Dean the way Alastair did.
Dean fumbles with the lock, and his hand slips on the doorknob a few times, but he finally he
turns it, and his weight against the door sends it open, and then Cas is there, gathering Dean up in
his arms. He presses Deans face into the crook of his neck and buries his own face in Deans
hair, murmuring, Im sorry, Im so sorry, over and over.
Dean clings and shakes and after a long time, Cas moves, an arm slipping under Deans legs,
lifting him with a grunt. They make it to the bed, and Cas strips back the comforter then pulls it
over them, and its Cass turn to cling. His fingers clutch at Deans shoulders, his jaw, and Dean
doesnt understand until he does.
Its not your fault, Dean says. Its Michaels. Its Alastairs. Its Deans for letting these people
get to him, for letting them break him and not putting himself back together again. Its not you,
Dean repeats when Cas doesnt say anything.
Ive tried to be what you need, Cas says, his voice a strained whisper. Ive tried to be good to
you, and I failed.
No, Dean thinks. No, no, no. This isnt how its supposed to work. Cas is the one always pulling
Dean up, putting him back together when he falls to pieces. Cas isnt supposed to be confused or
uncertain or hurt. Only, maybe this is how its supposed to work. Theyre here for each other.
Deans leaned on Cas enough, now its time for Dean to be leaned on.
No, Dean says, and he tries to sound calm like Cas does. He tries to sound sure and confident,
but his voice trembles with urgency, with the need to make Cas understand. You havent failed
me, I swear. Deans holds Cas as tight as Cas is holding him, willing him to get it, but theres no
relief on Cass face, and he doesnt relax. He stays tense, nervous, and Dean tries a different tactic.
You didnt know Michael was coming, right?
Cas stiffens at Michaels name, and he tries to turn away, but Dean holds Cass face still, forces
them to maintain eye contact.
Right? he prompts, and his heart skips a fearful beat, because maybe Cas did know. Maybe
Deans reading this wrong.

Right, Cas whispers.

Dean breathes easier. You tried to keep him from coming into the living room, right?
Right. But
Dean shakes his head, presses a finger to Cass lips. You threw him out when he threatened me,
right? He moves his finger away.
Right, Cas says, confused like he doesnt understand where this is going.
You, Dean swallows his hesitation, his fear, because one of them has to be strong right now.
You would never hurt me the way Michael wants you to, the way Alastair hurt me, right?
Cass answer is instant and emphatic. Right.
Dean breathes easier. Something happened, something outside your control, but you did the best
you could for me, right?
Cass brow furrows. I shouldve
Dean cuts him off, You did everything you could, right?
Cas shuts his eyes. Right.
You sent me here to keep me safe, right?
Cas turns his head, whispers, Right, against the palm of Deans hand.
And as soon as you could, you came to check on me, right?
Right.
Its all leading up to an inevitable conclusion, and Deans afraid to push that extra step, but Cas
still isnt settled. His muscles are tight under Deans hands, he twitches, an involuntary action. He
needs more. Dean has to push further. He runs his hands up and down Cass arms, twines their
legs together.
You know I trust you, right?
You shouldnt.
I do, Dean says, firm, confident in this even as his stomach flutters, worried for whats coming
next. Dean undoes the buttons Cass shirt, gives him time to think, presses their chests together as
soon as Cass is bared. Its about touch more than anything, and their skin burns hot between them
as Dean gets as close as he can. You know why, right? Dont make me say it, Dean thinks
praysbegs. Its a line they cant cross.
Yeah, Cas breathes out, his body going lax with the exhalation.
Youre not him, Dean says. He doesnt know why hes still talking. Cas doesnt need to hear it.
Maybe Dean needs to say it? Maybe he needs to finally get this cleared up between them. Deans
hands stroke restlessly down Cass sides. He hurt me because it made him happy. He played
games I could never win, because it amused him to see me fail. You set me up to succeed. Im
your focus. I dont understand why. This should be about you, but youve made it about me, and
Im too selfish to try and change that. I want everything youre willing to give me, and you never

stop giving.
"Cas, before Dean can say something hell regret in the morning, he presses his lips to Cas,
cutting himself off. Its a gentle kiss, offering up everything Dean cant say.
They kiss for a long time, slow, unhurried, drawing strength from each other and feeding it back
and somehow they both settle. Cass hands stop trembling, Deans heart beats consistently, no
pitters of fear or patters of uncertainty.
Eventually, their lips drift apart, but they stay in the circle of each others arms, breathing against
each others cheeks. Finally, Dean shifts, pulling away. Cas makes a pained sound, and Dean
kisses him quiet.
Im going to make you some hot chocolate. Itll make you feel better. Cas still looks hesitant so
Dean squeezes his hand. Ill be back in two minutes and then I wont leave. I promise. Cas
doesnt protest when Dean slides out of bed this time, and he clings to the comforter in Deans
absence.
Dean goes to the kitchen to heat up a mug of milk and then he goes to the entryway to grab his
phone. He has two texts and a missed call from Sam, and he calls him back while he locks the
door (for good measure) and goes to find the cocoa powder.
Dean? Sam picks up on the third ring. He sounds worried. You didnt come home after work.
Is everything okay? You didnt call to say you would be late or anything.
Dean rubs the back of his neck. There was an incident. Im fine, he rushes to say before Sam
can panic, but my friend wasnt in any condition to go home alone so Im crashing with him
tonight. Im sorry. I didnt have my phone on me or I wouldve told you.
Is he okay? Do you need me to come and help?
No. Were good. Just, the microwave beeps and Dean pulls the mug out and adds the cocoa
powder, Im not sure when Ill be back tomorrow. Ill keep you updated, okay?
Yeah. Right. Uh, I hope he feels better.
Yeah, Dean says with a look back at the bedroom. Me too.
He hangs up and brings the phone and hot chocolate back into the bedroom. He makes sure to put
the phone on silent, and he sets it on the bedside table before climbing into bed with Cas. They
end up sharing the cocoa, taking turns sipping from the mug. Its thick and creamy and the warmth
settles in Deans stomach and spreads out to the tips of his fingers. As soon as its empty, Dean
puts the mug next to his phone, and Cas curls up against his chest.
Its gonna be okay, Dean promises. Cas must believe him because his eyes flutter shut.
It doesnt take long for Cas to drift off to sleep, but Dean isnt tired yet. Hes still too keyed up,
and he stretches, careful not to jostle Cas, and picks his phone off the table. Before he can talk
himself out of it, he shoots a text off to Gabriel, So, being a dick is apparently a family trait. I
hope it missed Cas.
Dean stares at his phone until it lights up with a response, much quicker than he was expecting.
Youre talking to me again? Must be bad.
Met Michael. Dean sends it, pauses a moment before sending another. I know I overreacted

about the brother thing, and I know you have a strict no gossiping policy so Im not going
to go into detail, but you should check in on Cas tomorrow.
You cant just drop news like that on me. What the hell did Michael do? I will kill him. Is
Cas okay? Should I come over? You didnt leave him alone, did you?
Of course not. Im here. Hes asleep.
Do you need me to come over? Its past hours for you.
I need to be here. This isnt about work.
There's a long pause between texts, and Deans afraid hes said too much, but then his phone
lights up again.
Im glad he has you. Ill stop by in the morning.
Sounds good.
Dean puts his phone back on the bedside table and turns off the light. He shimmies down so hes
lying down next to Cas, and Cas shifts at the disturbance and wraps his arms tighter around Dean.
Yeah, Dean says, pressing a kiss to Cass forehead. I need you too.
***
Dean wakes up at 3:30am, disoriented and groggy and once he sees the clock he adds pissed off
to the list, because theres absolutely no reason for him to be up this early. Except, it hadnt been
that late when Michael crashed their day. So there is a reason for Dean to be awake, and he knows
better than to think hes going to be able to get back to sleep.
He and Cas have drifted apart in their sleep, their fingers hooked together but nothing more, and
Dean eases himself out of bed, careful not to wake Cas up. Theres no need for both of them to be
awake this early.
Dean moves around in the dark and gets a pair of sweatpants from Cass drawer and, after a
moment of thought, he grabs a t-shirt as well, and he pulls them on before heading out of the
bedroom. As soon as he closes the bedroom door he turns on the hall light, and he has to blink
against the sudden brightness but its better than wondering who might be hiding in the shadows
the apartment. Realistically, Dean knows theres no one here but him and Cas, but his mind isnt
quite as convinced.
He wanders into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea (decaf in the hope that hell be able to go
back to sleep) and rubs at his eyes as the water heats up in the microwave. He feels a bit guilty for
leaving Cas alone in bed, but he cant stay there and stare up at the ceiling until Cas gets up.
Deans thoughts will drive him out of his mind. If hes not going to be asleep he at least needs to
be distracted.
Which is why Dean takes his mug of hot water and his tea bag into the living room. He curls up
on the couch with the throw blanket wrapped around his legs, and he skims the channels for
something to watch. 3;30am is not the best time for television viewing but Dean hits the jackpot,
finding a My Favorite Martian marathon on TV Land. TV Land had been the channel of Deans
childhood, and he would devour episodes of Gunsmoke whenever they were stuck in motels with
nothing to do.

Still, My Favorite Martian is just what he needs right now. The plot is uncomplicated and the
crises are meant to be funny not stressful, and Dean curls his hands around his mug and settles
back to see what kind of a mess OHara gets himself into and how Uncle Martins going to rescue
him from it.
Dean keeps the volume on low and he drifts in an out of attentiveness, focusing his attention on
the show whenever unwelcome thoughts try to claim his attention, and its about two or three
episodes in when the bedroom door opens.
Cas stands in the doorway, a hand over his eyes to block out the light. Dean? he asks, his voice
raspy with sleep.
Here, Dean says. I didnt leave. I just couldnt sleep.
Okay. Cas disappears back into the bedroom and when he comes out again, he has the
comforter bundled up in his arms.
Dean sets his empty mug down on the side table and he makes space on the couch for Cas and
they end up side by side, nestled in the comforter. Cas has an arm wrapped around Deans waist,
holding him against Cass chest, and Dean weaves his fingers through Cass, because Dean needs
to be touching him.
Sorry I left you to wake up alone.
You dont need to apologize for that. Whatre you watching? The show comes back from
commercial and Dean can feel Cass smile even though he cant see it. This is a good one. Is
Lorelei still having trouble with her brownies?
Lorelei? Dean asks.
I might have had a crush on her, Cas confesses and Dean huffs out a small laugh.
Because she forgets to turn the oven on whenever she cooks?
Its too early for your mockery. Cas pulls Dean closer. You doing okay?
Ive been better but Im okay. Hell be looking over his shoulder for a bit, but he trusts Cas, and
he feels safe here. Hes going to be fine. You?
Same. Cas presses a kiss to Deans neck, right above his collar.
They settle into quiet and Dean must drift off to sleep, because the next thing he knows hes
blinking his eyes open, and theres light coming in through the windows. His marathon has turned
into some kind of infomercial and Dean fumbles around for the remote and wakes Cas up on the
process.
Sorry, he says as he finally manages to get the TV off.
Its fine. Cas stretches, his legs reaching all the way to the end of the couch. What time is it?
Dean looks at the clock on the cable box. Nine. Deans mouth feels like cotton and tastes like he
hasnt brushed his teeth recently so he rolls out of Cass hold. Bathroom.
Shower? Cas asks getting up with him.
They brush their teeth while the water gets warm. Cas carefully unbuckles Deans collar. Deans

neck feels empty before Cas rubs his thumbs over the skin thats usually hidden away and Dean
sets the collar on the counter. Cas leans in for a too brief kiss before he strips and steps into the
shower. Dean moves to follow him, but his fingers hesitate on the hem of his shirt. Its not a big
deal. It shouldnt be a big deal. He hasnt been self-conscious like this at Cass in a long time.
Michael had been right. Deans scars are a neon sign warning that Dean isnt good. And so far
Cas hasnt seemed to notice but Dean keeps waiting for the day that he does.
They dont define you, Cas says. Hes standing in the doorway of the shower not yet in the
stream.
Dean ducks his head, because sometimes hes so easy to read its embarrassing. But Cas lifts
Deans chin with two fingers and taps the side of Deans head. This is what defines you.
Dean turns his head away, but he does pull down his sweatpants and after a moment he pulls his
shirt over his head. He clings to the safety of it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and
steps into the shower. Cas kisses him before drawing him under the spray and Dean closes his
eyes and lets the water wash yesterday afternoon away.

Chapter 27
Dean knew it was coming, hes known for several months now, but Sams departure still manages
to sneak up on him. They have a party that Ellen and Jo come up for, and Benny shows up with a
red velvet cake, and Dean makes Sams favorite dinner, and its a nice, intimate family thing, but
for some reason it doesnt register in Deans mind that going away party means Sams going to be
going away.
It doesnt hit him until hes making dinner one Friday night, and Sam wanders in, duffel bag in
hand. Im trying to pack sparingly since Im flying, but I cant figure out which flannels to
bring.
Dean pauses in the middle of stirring the sauce for their pasta, because Sam is packing. Sam is
packing, because hes getting on a plane tomorrow. Hes getting on a plane tomorrow, because
hes going to college. Sams going to college.
Shit, Dean says, because hes not ready for this. Hes been busy and maybe on a subconscious
level hes been keeping himself so busy that he doesnt have time to think about this, but now he
has to. Sams leaving tomorrow, and hes not going to be back for a long time. Longer than hes
even been gone before.
Dean swallows past the sudden lump in his throat. So soon? I thought, he trails off and Sam
huffs out a small laugh.
Please dont tell me youre going to go all overprotective parent on me.
Someone has to, Dean says, the words slipping out before he can help them. He knows that hes
Sams older brother, but he also knows that hes more than that. Hes filled in for mom and, as
they got older, he filled in for dad too. He knows that Sams ready for college, that Sam wants this
more than anything, but it doesnt mean Dean isnt paralyzed with fear at the thought of Sam
being so far away. It doesnt mean that Dean doesnt want to hold Sam so tight hell never leave.
Dean doesnt do any of those things, though. Instead, he clears his throat and ignores the way
Sams eyes are misty. Im going to go call my boss, see if I can get tonight off. Stop being a girl
about your clothes and Ill take you out.
Im supposed to be packing, Sam says, half-whining.
Fine, well get our ice cream to go, Dean says, and Ill help you pack. You probably need
someone to carry all the heavy shit anyways.
Sam sticks his tongue out, and Dean laughs as he goes into the other room to make a call.
Hello Dean, Cas says when he picks up. Is everything alright?
Yeah, fine. Dean tucks the phone against his ear and leans against the wall of cereal and pasta in
the pantry. I know this is super last minute but I was wondering if we could switch things up a bit
this weekend.
Cas is quiet so Dean plows forward.
I completely forgot that this is the weekend Sams leaving. Deans proud of how little his voice
wavers. Um, so could I possibly have tonight off? I can come straight to your place from the
airport tomorrow, and Ill stay all through tomorrow night and Sunday and everything. I just

Of course, Cas says. You should spend time with your brother. I know hes important to you.
Really? I mean, thank you. Maybe you should call Gabriel.
Im going to work on my thesis, but I appreciate your attempts to keep me from being alone.
Dean cant help but feel guilty at the thought of Cas sitting alone in his apartment surrounded by
books and papers. He knows its probably Cass ideal night, but he still says, You can text me if
you want.
Im getting you all to myself on Sunday, Cas says, his voice deep with promise, Ill let Sam
have your undivided attention tonight.
Yeah, Dean says, already thinking about what Cas is going to have planned for Sunday. Dont
think thats going to happen.
Cas laughs, obviously pleased with himself. Be with your family. Ill see you tomorrow.
Kay. Bye. Dean slips out of the pantry and returns to the kitchen with a grin. I am triumphant!
He slings an arm around Sams shoulder, draws him in for a hug. Switched my hours so Im free
until tomorrow afternoon. So, dinner then ice cream then packing?
You didnt have to do that, Sam says, but he hugs Dean back.
Yeah, well, someone needs to make sure you pack enough clean underwear.
I hate you, Sam grumbles, face bright red, but he hugs Dean tighter.
***
Dean doesnt cry. His eyes might water, and his chin might tremble just the tiniest bit, but he
doesnt cry. Not at the airport at least. Bobby is at the airport and so is Benny and, more
importantly, dads there. They each give Sam a hug, and Benny gives Sam a giant muffin that
hed been hiding in his pocket this whole time. Deans hug lingers longer than the others and he
doesnt want to let Sam go, and he doesnt want the tears burning in the backs of his eyes to fall.
Eventually, he pulls back with a gruff, Dont do anything stupid and text me when you land,
and then Sams bounding off towards security.
When he gets to Cass apartment; however, everything changes. Dean steps through the door and
suddenly Cas is there, easing Deans fingers off the death grip they have on the straps of his
duffel, and then Cas is stripping him, layer by layer, and Dean stands there, letting it all happen.
It isnt until the collar buckles on that the floodgates open, and Dean falls forward, into Cass
waiting arms. He wraps his arms around Cass neck, even as Cass go around his waist, holding
him as Deans body shakes.
Hes gonna be so happy, Dean says, and Cass hands rub soothing circles on his back.
So are you, Cas promises.
***
Sam calls every day for the first week, bubbly and full of descriptions of a sunny campus and
orientation and his classes and his roommate and all the people hes meeting. Dean smiles even as
his heart clenches, because he wants Sam to be happy, but he doesnt want Sam to be happy away

from home, because hes afraid Sam wont want to come back home. Stanford is awesome, and
homes got nothing to offer in comparison.
After that, the calls peter out to every couple of days, and Dean doesnt blame Sam for it, because
Sams busy and theres only so much to talk about, and Deans pretty busy too, because his
classes have started up again, but it still hurts.
Cass two weeks notice ends, and its weird at first, because hes suddenly around when Dean
isnt used to him being there, but its a pretty easy adjustment to get used to. Cas, for the most part,
doesnt bother Dean while hes cooking, and Dean finds that he likes having Cas in the apartment
while he makes dinner. Usually Cas is at the kitchen table, books spread out, fingers clicking
away at his keyboard or eyebrows furrowed as he looks over a text. Theyre not talking or
anything, but theyre both there sharing the same space, and its domestic in a way it hasnt been.
Dean knows its a bad sign that hes getting tingly from domesticity, but he cant deny that things
have changed. Theyd changed before Michael, but Michael had been a wake-up call. This is
more than a job, for both of them, and Dean will never admit it, and he wont let Cas admit it
either, because he doesnt want their illusion to shatter. He doesnt want to lose this, because this
is his bit of happiness in the world, and hes not willing to give it up.
So things are pretty good in Deans life, until suddenly theyre not.
Dean gets back from class, and he drops his bag down at the kitchen table, and he goes to the
fridge to see what Bobbys stocked it with. Theres a baked pasta Dean can throw in the oven, but
hes kind of in the mood to cook. Deans been sitting all day, and he wants to do more than stick a
pre-made meal in the oven and sit some more. He wants to move around the kitchen. He wants to
create.
Youre happy, Benny says, and Dean spins around to see Benny leaning against the doorway.
Theres a heaviness in his face, the kind that suggests hes about to burst whatever good mood
Deans in.
Not for long, Im guessing. Dean sighs and rests against the counter. What happened?
Benny doesnt try to deny or deflect, but he does surprise Dean by pulling an envelope out of his
pocket. It says Dean in dads scrawling letters, and Dean feels his heart sink as he opens the
envelope and pulls out the paper inside.
Dean,
Youre going to be angry with me, and I know I deserve it. I waited until Sam was gone, because
sometimes I pretend that he still needs me even though I know he has you to take care of him, and
theres no one better suited for that than you. You, though, havent needed me for years.
There is someone who does. Two someones. A few years ago there was a woman. I was lonely,
and I missed your mother, and you dont need the details, but I have a son.
Dean tears his eyes away from the letter, his grip tight enough to crinkle the paper. If he so much
as twitches hell tear it. Youve got to be kidding me.
Benny shakes his head. Keep reading.
I know I screwed up with you boys, but theres nothing I can do to fix that now. Youre both
grown men, and you dont need me around. I have a second chance here, and I want to do right
by someone. I know you probably dont understand, but I need to do this. I need to know that I
can do this. And this little boy needs a father.

Im keeping my phone so you can call me, but I know you probably wont. And Im not
abandoning my recovery. Im still going to be in contact with Benny. I think this is a positive step.
Ill probably be at Kates by the time you get this letter.
Dont be too angry,
Dad
I dont believe this. Dean looks back down at the paper. His hands tremble and the words blur
together, looping into one continuous line. Youre not worth sticking around for. Dean squeezes
his eyes shut and the frail paper tears in his hands.
Dean, Benny says, voice low like hes trying to calm a wild animal.
Did you put him up to this? Dean hasnt wanted to hit Benny like this in a long time, but his
hands curl into fists around the bits of letter. Did you counsel him? Tell him this was a good
fucking idea?
No. He made the decision himself. Hes trying to do right by her.
Right by her? Some stupid woman he knocked up on one of his binges? What about mom?
What about doing right by her memory and not screwing around with other women? What about
doing right by Sam and not abandoning him for a new kid? What about doing right by Dean?
I cant believe you agreed to be delivery boy, Dean says throwing the scraps of paper to the
ground. He grinds them into the floor with the heel of his boot. I cant believe he wasnt man
enough to tell me to my face. Fucking coward. You can tell him, Deans voice shakes as he
points a finger at Benny. When he calls to check in you can tell him I hate him, and if he doesnt
want to be a part of my life then fuck him, he can stay out. He can make a new family, because
we dont need him. He has never been there for us, and I dont know why I ever thought that
would change.
Dean, Benny takes a step forward, but Dean waves him off.
Theres food in the fridge if Bobby comes back grumpy. I need to get out of here. He stumbles
outside, fumbling with his phone, fingers shaking with anger that has no outlet.
Cas picks up on the second ring. Dean?
Please tell me theres no one at your apartment.
Theres no one at my apartment, Cas says, voice thick with concern. Whats wrong?
Can I come over early? Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Im afraid Im going to do something
stupid if I dont. Like drink Bobbys entire liquor cabinet. Or get in the Impala and drive until he
finds where dads hiding out and rip the house apart piece by piece.
Dean, what happened?
Not now, Dean says, heading down the street, towards the subway. Please, can you talk to
me? Put the phone on speaker or something and read your book or your paper or something. II
need you. He needs to hold onto something or hes going to fall apart.
Im analyzing Return of the Hunters right now, Cas says, and Dean clings to Cass voice as he
reaches the train station and swipes his pass. Its a fascinating piece. I always forget how white
the snow is. Its such a contrast to the darker colors of the rest of the painting.

The station should be loud and the train should be even louder, but Dean doesnt hear any of it.
All he hears is the steady tone of Cass voice as he describes what he sees in the painting and the
possible interpretations hes come across. Dean listens as Cas spins out his own interpretations,
knows which Cas is leaning more towards depending on the strength of his voice.
He lets Cass voice wrap tight around him, hold him together, and lead him up to Cass apartment.
And when Dean pushes the door open, he hears the scrape of Cass chair and then Cas is there,
his arms holding Dean up.
Do you want to talk about it?
Dean shakes his head. No.
Okay. Cass hands run through Deans hair, down his back. Lets get you undressed, and well
eat and then Im going to take care of you, okay?
Please.
Cas holds him tighter for a moment before stepping back. Dinner is fairly quick, Cas clears off
enough of the table for them to sit, and he fixes sandwiches and has Dean get drinks so Dean
doesnt feel completely useless. Deans shaking so bad the water spills out of the glasses and
down his arms.
Its okay, Cas promises, pressing a towel to Deans skin, drying him off. Dean shakes harder. I
need you to eat then I promise, Ill make this better, okay? Can you eat for me?
Dean looks up, eyes wide and lost and brimming with tears, and Cas hauls him onto his lap.
Deans legs splay on either side of Cass, and theyre face to face and Cas takes a bite out of his
sandwich before holding it out to Dean. The expectation is clear and Dean tears off a small bite.
Its enough that Cas brushes his hand over Deans cheek, pleased.
Slowly, they work through Cass sandwich and part of Deans, and Cas manages to coax some
pretzels and some water into Dean, but eventually, Dean drops his head to Cass shoulder, done.
Its too much effort to eat, and he feels sick with what he has eaten. His dad has up and left.
Abandoned Dean. Sams abandoned him too, in a different way, but its abandonment all the
same. Dean doesnt understand what hes done wrong. Why is his family so eager to get away
from him?
Okay, Cas says and he runs his hands up and down Deans sides, trying to settle him, but it isnt
enough. Not tonight. You done eating?
Dean nods. Cas gathers up his research and brings it into the living room. He spreads it out on the
coffee table and drops a cushion down on the floor for Dean to kneel on. As soon as Deans
kneeling, Cas undoes his tie and ties it around Deans eyes.
Good?
Dean welcomes the darkness; he welcomes the touch of fabric against his eyes, the way it blocks
everything out until his world is dark and constant. Even if he opens his eyes, its the same. He
relaxes, shoulders rolling forward.
Good, Cas says, answering his own question. His hand trails down the knobs of Deans spine,
lingering over each one. When his hand pulls back, Dean whimpers at the loss, and some of his
panic begins to crawl its way back up. Because its dark, and hes alone, and Cas has moved
away and

Cass shin nudges his arm. Im not leaving you. Im going to be right here. Do you need to lean
against my leg?
Dean curls his arms around Cass leg and rests his cheek against Cass knee in response.
Okay. Im going to continue to read out loud, the way I did on the train. All I want is for you to
listen. Can you do that for me?
Dean nods, feels the slide of Cass pants against his cheek. He loosens his grip, because Cas has
promised not to leave. His blindfold grows damp with tears, but Deans mind calms as Cas begins
reading his thesis out loud. Cas pauses to make corrections or to repeat a line a few times, tasting
the sound of sentences until he can get the right one.
Cass voice weaves around Dean, soothing his nerves, settling him in, until Deans body goes
loose and his mind goes quiet. Cass hand curls around the back of Deans neck, a steady promise
that hes not leaving or going anywhere, and that if he does move, hell take Dean with him.
Dean doesnt know how long he drifts for before Cas gives his neck a brief squeeze. Time to get
up. Do you need help?
Dean tilts his head up, holds his hands out, and Cas helps him to his feet, lets Dean lean on him as
they make their way into the bedroom. Cas holds the ends of the tie out of the way while Dean
brushes his teeth, and he guides Deans head so he spits into the sink.
Cas changes into his pajamas with Dean hovering at his side and then they get into bed together.
Cas doesnt ease the tie off until the lights are out, and he finds Dean in the dark, pulls him back
against Cass chest. He laces his fingers through Deans and presses their joined hands against
Deans stomach.
Im here, Cas says, and he holds Dean tighter.
***
Dean doesnt wake up and magically feel better. He wishes that was how things worked, but it
isnt. Last night was good, it was what he needed, but it doesnt take long for everything to rush
back to him.
He tries to roll away, put some space between him and Cas, but Cas hasnt let go of him during
the night. In fact, hes even more in Cass hold, one of Cass legs slipped through his, pinning him
in place.
Where are you going? Cas asks, and Dean shouldve known that even the smallest movement
would wake Cas up.
Bathroom. Gotta take a piss.
Cas lets Dean go, but when Dean comes back, Cas is propped up against the headboard and
looking more awake than Dean would like to see. Dean climbs back under the covers, his space
still warm from his body.
Are you ready to talk?
Do I have a choice?
You always have a choice.

Dean hesitates before dropping his head to Cass lap so hes looking at the door. Cass hand falls
naturally to Deans hair. My dad left. Cas doesnt make any stupid sounds of surprise, and he
doesnt ask any follow up questions and eventually Dean continues. Apparently he got some
woman pregnant a while ago, because she has a kid, and he feels guilty enough about it to go live
with her. He says its his second chance at being a dad.
The heavy weight is back, steadily pressing down on Deans chest. It hurts to draw in breath,
hurts to just exist. I dont know what to do.
Its okay to be angry with him.
Im tired of being angry with him. Im tired of being disappointed. Im tired of being
disappointing.
Youre not disappointing. What hes done, thats on him not on you.
Dean rolls his eyes where Cas cant see. If that was true he wouldve left earlier, but he waited
until Sam was gone. Sams worth sticking around for. Dean had always thought he was the one
holding his family together, but he was wrong. Its when Sam left that everything fell apart, and
Deans half-tempted to call Sam up and beg him to come back, because he wants to be a family
again, but he cant. Sams finally gotten a chance to get away and find himself and happiness, and
Dean cant begrudge him that just because Deans unhappy.
Dean, Cas says, but Dean shakes his head.
I dont want to talk anymore. He twists so hes looking up at Cas. Will you fuck me?
He can see that Cas would rather keep talking, but Cas nods and tugs on Deans shoulder, and
Dean rises up to kiss him.

Chapter 28
Theres this girl, Sam says one day when he calls, and Dean can hear the blush in his brothers
words.
A girl? Dean teases, because hes an older brother and thats his job. Hes also curious though,
because Sams never been interested in girls like this before. He had that thing with Meg that
Dean still hasnt quite figured out but doesnt really care about and Sam took a girl to prom but
only because he thought that was a thing you were supposed to do. And now hes a month into
college, and hes calling Dean about a girl? Yeah, Deans definitely curious.
Shut up, Sam says, Her names Jess. She lives on the floor above me. Shes nice.
Yeah?
Yeah. Sam sounds dreamy, and Deans sorely tempted to mock him within an inch of his life,
but he wants to hear more about this girl thats gotten his brothers attention. We went to the
movies Friday night and then we met up for Saturday brunch, and then we studied together.
Nothing gets the romance going like studying. Seriously? Studying? At least they went to the
movies together; though, Sams probably leaving out the part where the rest of his friends went to
the movie with them. Dean also wants to know what movie they went to go see, but he recognizes
that this isnt the appropriate time in the conversation to ask.
I hate you, Sam grumbles and he must be desperate for help, because he doesnt hang up or
change the subject. Shes cute, and I like her, but what if she doesnt like me? What if shes just
being nice?
Have you tried kissing her?
Youre no help. I dont know why I was going to you for advice in the first place.
Whats that supposed to mean?
Sam sighs, the way he does when he thinks Deans being unreasonable. Its not like youve ever
had a long term relationship. When was the last time youve even been on a date?
Right. Deans a failure. Though, he has been in a long-term relationship, even if its with a guy
whos paying him to be there. That probably isnt a point in the Dean knows what hes talking
about category.
Did you spend the whole movie thinking about her? Dean asks.
What?
Were you so distracted during the movie that you couldnt watch it, because all you could think
about was trying to hold her hand?
Sams silence is telling.
Kiss her the next time you have a chance, Dean says. You clearly like her.
That doesnt mean she likes me.

Have you looked in a mirror lately? Youre floppy haired and adorable and on top of that, youre
not a complete asshole. Plus, if she went to a movie with you, went to brunch with you, then
studied with you all in one weekend then she clearly wants to spend time with you. Trust me,
shes into you.
How do you know all this? Sam asks, suspicious.
Probably just making it up. Its not like Ive been in a long term relationship or anything.
Sam sighs. Look, Im sorry. And thank you.
Yeah. Dean can never stay mad at Sam for long. Let me know how it works out?
Of course. She has the prettiest smile, Dean.
Dean laughs and shakes his head. Of course she does.
***
Dean hears a lot about Jess over the next couple weeks. He hears about the way her hair bounces
when she leaves it natural and curled. He hears about the way it tucks behind her ears when she
straightens it. He hears about how her hands fit in Sams when they go for late night walks.
He hears about how they go to breakfast together the mornings that either of them have a big test
and they quiz each other over pancakes and eggs. He hears about the post-it notes they leave each
other saying the stupid couply stuff that makes Dean want to vomit.
He hears about all these things, and it makes him ache for something he doesnt have. It also
makes him sad, because theres someone else taking care of Sam now. He cant be too sad,
because Sams clearly happy, and a lot of it is because of Jess, but its another sign that Sam is
growing up, moving on.
And then Thanksgiving happens.
Or, rather, Thanksgiving almost doesnt happen.
Bobby has plans to go to Ellens, and Dean still isnt speaking to dad, and then Sam calls. He says
it doesnt make sense for him to fly back for just a day or two.
Flights are wicked expensive, Sam says.
Wicked? Dean echoes, pouring his all his contempt and anger into that one word. Did you
transfer to England when I wasnt paying attention?
Bradys from Boston. If I start saying yinz like Chloe then you can disown me.
Never, Dean thinks. Ill stick to mocking you incessantly, thanks. And your break has to be more
than a day long.
Its called exaggeration, Dean. Flights are super expensive because its holiday time, and it just
doesnt make sense. Ill get in late Wednesday night and Ill have to leave early Sunday. I wont
even have time to get over my jet lag.
But I want to see you, Dean thinks. He doesnt care if its only for a few days. And he doesnt
care if Sams tired and grouchy. He wants to see his little brother. He wants to hug him and make
sure college has been treating him well.

Its fine, Sam says. You dont have to worry about me. I wont be miserable in my dorm room.
Brady isnt going home either for the same reason, and I dont think Chloes going home either so
were all going up to Jesss.
Oh. Its about Jess. Of course its about Jess. With her stupid curls and her stupid smile and the
stupid way she makes Sam happier than anyone else ever has.
Well, Dean says swallowing past all the nasty comments rising up in him. Sounds like youll
have a good time. Well miss you though.
Sam laughs. No you wont. You and dad and Bobby and Ellen will watch football all day. Jo
will miss me, because shell have to put up with you cavemen, but youll be fine.
I wont be fine, Dean wants to say, but thats selfish. Sam sounds so happy to be meeting Jesss
family and spending time with his friends, and Dean will make do. He feels a brief stab of guilt,
because he hasnt told Sam about dad yet, he doesnt know how and Sams opened up a good
opportunity here, but Deans not going to drop the news on him now. Not when Sam is happy.
Not when Sams away.
But Sam has plans away from Dean and dad has plans away from Dean and Bobby has plans
away from Dean and that leaves Dean alone for Thanksgiving. He could probably go with Bobby
to Ellens, but then hed have to explain dads absence and Sams absence, and he doesnt want
to. He doesnt want Jos pity and Ellens hugs. Dean wants to spend the holiday by himself
wallowing in his own self-pity. Hell buy a rotisserie chicken because theres no point in making a
turkey just for himself, and hell spend the day on the couch watching football and drinking beer.
Fuck, hes pathetic.
***
Cas blows out a slow breath and pushes his plate away, and Dean cant help his alarm, because
Cas has his serious face on.
Relax, Cas says. Its nothing bad. Given the way my last conversation went with Michael, Im
not invited to family Thanksgiving. Gabriel and I were going to do something, and if youre
comfortable with it, youre welcome to stop by.
Dean sinks back on his heels. Thanksgiving with you, me, and Gabriel?
Cas nods, and he looks nervous for reasons Dean cant possibly fathom. I understand if you
dont want to.
Dean laughs, because it sure as hell beats sitting alone and moping on Bobbys couch, and it gives
him an excuse not to go to Ellens. Besides, he and Gabriel are in a better place since the Michael
incident. Theyre certainly not best friends, but theyre on speaking terms.
Someone needs to make sure you eat a proper dinner, Dean says, Knowing Gabriel, hell try
and pass off chocolate turkey pops as dinner.
Cas frowns down at him. I didnt invite you so you can cook for us.
Dean rests his cheek on Cass knee. I want to. He wants to feel useful. He wants to feel wanted.
He wants to feel like he has a place and a purpose. And he really wants to make a turkey. He cant
justify making one just for himself but if Gabriel and Cas are there then Dean can make a turkey
and he can do stuffing and potatoes. He can go all out.

Will you make pumpkin pie? Cas asks.

Dean blushes, the way he does any time pie is brought up these days. Do I get to have any?
If youre good, Cas says, and Deans tongue darts out to wet his lips.
***
Are you sure you dont want to come? Bobby asks, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Ellen
wont mind. Shes been asking about you. He pokes around the table by the door for his keys.
Theyre not hanging up on the key hooks or in the key bowl, and Dean doesnt understand how a
guy can have two places to keep his car keys and not manage to put them in either of those places.
Ive got plans, Dean says, but thanks.
Bobby hesitates like he cant figure out whether Deans lying to him or not. Dean would be
annoyed but his original plan had to been to lie to Bobby. That man friend of yours?
Dean grins. Yeah, that man friend of mine. And his brother.
Bobby stops looking for his keys long enough to fix Dean with a stare. Youre meeting the
family?
Dean realizes how that could be taken, and that Bobbys definitely taken it in the wrong way.
Uh, not really. His family is actually a bunch of dicks, but hes got one brother whos tolerable
which is why hes spending Thanksgiving with him and not the whole brood.
Huh, Bobby says, not buying it for a second. So, if youre meeting his family, when are you
bringing him by to meet us?
Theres a scathing comment on the tip of Deans tongue about how Sams in California and dads
playing house with some woman Deans never met so there really isnt any family for Cas to
meet, but he reels it in, because Bobby deserves better than that. Dean settles for a shrug instead.
Well see. Were not that serious.
Again, that no bullshit look. Youve been with him for months, and youre spending
Thanksgiving with him and his brother. Id say its serious. But if youre afraid of the stories I can
tell him about your diaper years then thats fine. Just be man enough to admit it.
You didnt even know me in diapers, Dean says. The worst part is, hed love to have Cas over
and have him meet Bobby, and maybe he could invite Charlie too, and they could exchange
stories and tell jokes, and Dean could be normal for once. But Dean cant have Cas come over,
because he and Cas arent actually in a relationship where they meet each others friends and
families. And Deans already having enough trouble remembering that what he has with Cas isnt
real. The last thing he needs is act like a couple in front of Deans family.
Im sure I can manage dredge up some embarrassing stories regardless.
Ha, ha. Dean shoves his wallet into his left back pocket and his phone into his right back one
before shrugging into his coat. Say hi to everyone for me.
Youre showing up empty handed? Bobby sounds both disappointed and judgmental, like
somehow hes failed in raising Dean.
Dean had tried to convince Cas and Gabriel to let him bring something, but Cas had patiently and
firmly told him that if he was going to insist on cooking everything then he didnt have to buy any

of it. Im doing the cooking.

Theres just three of you? Bobby asks and at Deans nod, he pulls a 12-pack of Sam Adams out
from the cupboard. Take these.
Uh, okay. Deans not even sure if Cas or Gabriel drink beer, but whatever. Dean can make
Bobby happy by bringing the beer, and Dean wont mind having a brew or two while he cooks.
Besides, he doesnt drink while hes on the job so itll be another reminder that hes not on the job.
Hes going to be casually spending Thanksgiving with two people he knows. Yeah, like theres
going to be anything casual about this. Dean wonders if its too late to back out.
They say their goodbyes, again, and Dean heads to Cass before he can talk himself out of it.
When he gets there, Dean toes off his shoes, and slips off his jacket and his fingers are on the
button of his jeans when he remembers that this isnt a normal day. This is Thanksgiving. Hes not
on the job. Its only taken him what, a half hour to forget that detail? Dean tries to shake the
unease thats settled on his shoulders, and he picks his beers back up and heads into the kitchen
where he can hear Gabriel and Cas talking.
Gabriel and Cas are both in jeans though Gabriel, like Dean, is in a t-shirt, and Cas has opted for a
lightweight sweater. If it didnt look so good, the fabric clinging in all the right places, Dean
would tease him about it. Theyre both standing around the island counter, staring at the piles of
groceries that they presumably just bought. At least, Deans hoping they just bought them,
because there are some items that shouldve been put in the fridge already if they hadnt.
Dean holds up the beer in greeting.
I didnt hear the door, Cas says. Im sorry. Welcome. He doesnt seem to know what do with
his hands, and they flutter at his sides before he smoothes them down his jeans.
Dean smiles and hopes today gets less awkward as it goes by, because right now? A little
uncomfortable. He knows its because they have no idea how to navigate their relationship like
this, and Deans hand comes up to rub at his neck without thinking. Cas catches him, and Dean
clears his throat and looks away. So, should we get started?
Youre the master chef apparently, Gabriel says. He leans against the counter, prepared to be
lazy. I brought some store bought appetizers to munch on while you cook. I hope that doesnt
offend your culinary skills.
Eat whatever you want. Im not really a food snob, I just like my traditions.
Deans completely at ease in the kitchen, something that Gabriel thankfully doesnt comment on,
and they settle into an easy arrangement as Dean starts the prep work. He ropes them both into
helping, and they chat while Gabriel tears up the bread for stuffing and while Cas dices celery,
also for the stuffing.
Dean opens the fridge, and hes immediately distracted by the Edible Arrangement that takes up
the entire top shelf. There are pineapple flowers with cantaloupe centers and chocolate covered
strawberries and chocolate covered bananas and theres honeydew and grapes and Dean really
hopes its going to be part of Thanksgiving dinner, because it looks delicious. Dean pulls it out
and sets it on the counter so he can actually see whats in the fridge.
Lucifer? Gabriel asks.
Cas sighs. It was my invitation to his Thanksgiving. He already sent me a letter wondering if I
was interested in working with him now that my previous employment has fallen through.

I hope you said no.

Please. I have no interest in being a pawn in their games. Besides, Ive found what I want.
Deans forgotten about why he went into the fridge, because there are chocolate covered
strawberries. There are fresh strawberries covered in chocolate and he eyes them, contemplative.
If its from a guy named Lucifer does that mean I cant eat any?
Cas laughs and gives Dean a nudge towards the fruit. Why do you think I kept it? Besides, its
Hades you cant accept food from.
Ill stay away from pomegranates just to be safe. Dean plucks out one of the pineapple flowers
and takes a bite. The fruit is fresh and delicious, and he grins around his mouthful before going
back to the fridge for the green beans. He wants to do green beans and roasted almonds; though,
he has to be careful or hell eat all the almonds during the process. I asked you to get sliced
almonds, right?
Cas nods. And I even remembered. Stop looking panicked. Dinners going to be fine.
I dunno. Dean looks past Cass shoulder to Gabriel. Weve got some suspect help.
I am a very good cook, Gabriel protests. Ready? Watch me. He dumps a bunch of frozen
pizza rolls onto a plate and sticks them in the microwave. Dean laughs and looks over at Cas to
see if hes amused too. Cas is watching Dean, his expression soft around the edges, going softer
when he catches Dean looking. It makes something warm settle in Dean; warm and safe and right,
and Dean turns back to the green beans, humming The Boys are Back in Town.
***
Dean cracks open his first beer around 11 and, to his surprise, Cas and Gabriel each take one. Its
another reminder that this isnt what Dean is used to in this apartment, and it worries him that he
likes it just as much. He still feels comfortable here, like he belongs. He has a place here, tucked
between Gabriel and Cas while they make Thanksgiving dinner. Deans mashing the potatoes by
hand, elbowing Cas in the side because theyre standing so close together, and Cas doesnt move
away, and Deans warmed by the small bit of contact. Dean looks over at Gabriel and holds a
finger to his lips as he adds an extra tablespoon of butter to the potatoes. Gabriel grins but refuses
to tell Cas whats so funny when Cas presses him for information.
You know they have boxes of potatoes, Gabriel says to distract Cas from his questioning.
Gabriels up on his tiptoes so he can peer over Dean and Cass shoulders. You add some milk, a
bit of butter or salt if youre feeling adventurous and then nuke it in the microwave.
Dean shakes his head, disappointed. The microwave is an impressive invention, but you cant
only eat microwavable food.
I eat baked things, Gabriel says.
That he buys from Panera, Cas whispers, conspiratorial, and he laughs and he dodges Gabriels
swat.
Once theyve gotten all the prep work done and gotten the turkey and the pie in their separate
ovens, they go to the living room to catch the first football game. Gabriel claims the arm chair, and
Dean has a moment where he starts to go down on his knees then remembers thats not what
theyre doing and then hes not sure whether to sit next to Cas on the couch or not so he ends up
halfway between two cushions, giving him and Cas about half a cushion of space between them.

I thought you didnt like football, Dean says as the Cowboys kick off to the Ravens.
Ive been told this is a tradition, Cas says, popping the top off his new beer.
Im not sure there was enough disdain in your voice there, Gabriel says with an easy grin.
Want to try again?
Cas rolls his eyes and turns the volume up two notches, and Dean laughs.
***
At one point, Sam calls and Dean goes to talk to him for a bit, listening to him chatter away about
Jess and her family and all her little cousins running around and how Sams been a human jungle
gym for the past two hours, and he sounds happy. Deans not as bitter as hed expected. Hes
afraid it has to do with how easy today has been. Hes been welcomed seamlessly into Cas and
Gabriels routine, and it isnt the same as Thanksgiving with Bobby and Sam and dad, but its still
a kind of family.
They crowd around the small table, everything they could possibly want within reach, and Dean
eats way more than he should, and hes regretting it by the time theyre doing clean up. Dean puts
the leftovers into Tupperwarehe was going to send some home with Gabriel and keep the rest
here, but Cas insisted that Dean take some home with him too.
Ugh, Dean groans, rubbing his stomach, and he wonders if anyone will notice if he pops the
button on his jeans.
You shouldnt have eaten so much pie, Cas says, both teasing and admonishing, and he drops
his gaze to Deans stomach, a little smile on his face at the way it strains against Deans pants.
So, eating an entire quarter of a pie was probably not one of Deans best ideas, but its
Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving means pie, and Dean really hopes this doesnt lead to another pie
fasting. At the same time, he kinda hopes it does, and he blushes and goes back to divvying up the
potatoes and he hopes no one notices how red his face is.
They troop back to the living room, for the Patriots game this time, and Cas stretches out on the
couch and draws Dean down with him. Theyre on their sides, and Cas undoes the button on
Deans pants, and Dean cant help his sigh of relief as his stomach has room to expand.
Shouldve left you like that, Cas muses, quiet, his voice a low murmur in Deans ear. You
mightve learned something about self-control.
Thats what Ive got you for, Dean says.
Cass hand tightens on Deans hip before he slides it across, rubbing over Deans stomach, easing
some of the ache. Dean sighs and settles into the touch, and he swears he feels the press of Cass
lips against his head, but it couldve just been Cas shifting.

Chapter 29
Dean sighs and stirs his coffee. Nine on a Sunday is way too early for him to be awake, but
Gabriel and Cas do brother things in the afternoon so if Dean wants to meet with Gabriel, this is
the time. They get together every once in a while now, and Dean thought it would be weird since
they both know that Deans getting fucked by Cas for money and Gabriel is Deans boss so he
knows all of Deans kinks and probably has a good idea of what exactly his little brother does to
Dean at night, and yeah, okay, its weird.
But its not unbearable. And there are moments where they can forget about all the things they
know about each other and just be two dudes having a hot beverage.
Today isnt one of those days. Today is one of those days where Dean is panicking, and he needs
Gabriels help.
You dont get it, Dean says for what seems like the eight hundredth time. Bobby wants to meet
him. He thinks I have a secret boyfriend stashed away, and he says its about time he gets to
properly threaten him.
Gabriels smirk doesnt suggest that hes about to be helpful. What, he wants to give the you hurt
my baby boy and Ill kill you speech? Are there qualifiers for that? Like, if you want to be hurt
then its okay?
Dean glares, but since hes also blushing hes pretty sure it has zero effect.
Look, Gabriel says, sobering. Im sure Cas wont mind meeting him. The three of you have
dinner, you and Cas go back and do what you do, and everythings good.
Except thats not how itll work, because then Bobby will have a face and a name to go with the
mystery boyfriend, and hell ask questions and eventually hell be disappointed when Dean and
Cas are suddenly no longer together.
It wont be that easy. Dean hasnt been the best at maintaining professional boundaries, hell be
the first to admit that, but Cas hasnt met Deans family. Hes heard about them, and hes helped
Dean through some things, but hes not intertwined with them. Deans managed to keep that one
thing separate, and if he crosses that line then theres nothing of Dean that isnt also mixed up with
Cas. Therell be nothing for him to cling to when Cas is gone.
If youre worried I can talk to Cas, Gabriel says, Or, if that makes you uncomfortable, Ill get
Pam to do it.
No. Dean can ask Cas himself, hes not that pathetic. He just doesnt want to do it, and he wants
Gabriel to talk him out of it, or, even better, tell him its against the rules.
How did Bobby find out in the first place?
Dean takes a drink of his coffee, lukewarm now. Cornered me one day, told me I looked too
happy, and he wanted to know who the girl was. I was quiet too long, and he made the jump to
guy, and, Dean shrugs, apparently hes tired of waiting for me to bring my mysterious boyfriend
around.
You are happier than Ive ever seen you, Gabriel says, and he rolls his eyes when Dean
immediately tenses up. Its a compliment. You should enjoy your work, Dean. Theres no way
you wouldve made it this long if you didnt. I personally think thats why you were never

you wouldve made it this long if you didnt. I personally think thats why you were never
interested in having a regular. It never clicked for you, but you and Cas clicked. It doesnt always
happen.
They clicked alright. Dean smiles politely and raises his cup in the mockery of a toast. To your
matchmaking skills.
Gabriel laughs, but his eyes are seeking, curious, and Dean takes a long sip of coffee to hide his
face.
***
Its been an absolutely wild day at the garage. Dean suspects its because they just had their first
major snowstorm. People freak out at the smallest noise their car makes after the first snow,
terrified that the brakes are going and theyre going to end up sliding into a ditch somewhere. It
means business is good which Dean cant complain about, but it also means that instead of getting
off work when he was supposed to so he had time to shower and panic about Cass visit, hes
stuck underneath a car.
Need me to hand you anything? Charlie asks, way too peppy for Deans liking.
He tinkers with the car. Im good. And why are you still here?
You think Im going to leave early on the day your friend comes calling?
Calling? Are we in a Jane Austen novel right now?
If we are, youre totally Lizzie Bennett. Would he make a good Darcy? He sounds handsome
enough.
Doesnt scowl enough to pull of Darcy. And I dont see what all the fuss is about meeting him.
Hes important to you, Charlie says. We want to make sure he checks out alright.
Dean rolls his eyes even though she cant see him. Im pretty sure Bobby was cleaning his
shotgun earlier today. Hes got the intimidation thing down. Dean thinks its ridiculous. Cas isnt
out to break Deans heart or whatever they think Cas is planning. Of course, Bobby and Charlie
think there are feelings involved in Dean and Cass relationship. Dean wonders if itd be worth the
trauma of explaining fuck buddies to Bobby in order to get him to stop with the overprotective
thing.
Dean and Cas have sex. And sometimes theres post-coital cuddling. And, okay, sometimes
theres early morning cuddling and late evening cuddling and mid-afternoon cuddling. But that
doesnt mean feelings. Neither does the warm feeling Dean gets in his chest when he sees their
toothbrushes side by side in the holder. Or the way Dean smiles for the rest of the night when Cas
praises a new recipe.
He doesnt know what to look for, Charlie says, and her tone is quiet but firm. Dean knows he
wont win this fight. He also knows he should be grateful that he has all these people who care
about him. Its just, the fact that they care about him so much makes him feel guilty for lying. He
doesnt want them to meet Cas, because Cas isnt going to be a permanent presence in Deans life.
Theyre going to stop seeing each other; its only a question of when. Dean doesnt want Charlie
and Bobby to meet Cas and get to know him and like him and then have to lose him.
Thank you, Dean says, just as quiet, then, Youll like him.
Im sure I will. You have good taste. Charlie laughs and nudges Deans foot where it sticks out

from underneath the car. If you had planned this little get together for two weeks from now he
could meet Sam.
Yeah, no.
Dean, hes not going to care. If youre happy then Sam will be happy for you. It doesnt matter if
youre dating a guy or a gal.
It has nothing to do with that. And thats partially true. Deans stomach cramps with fear every
time he thinks about calling Sam up and telling him that Deans into guys even though hes pretty
sure Sam wont care. But its that sliver of doubt that makes worst case scenarios run through his
head, and its safer to never pick up the phone. Besides, introducing Sam and Cas would be
something like commitment, would make this into something it isnt.
Dean sighs and wipes his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt.
Oh, Charlie says, sounding shocked, then Oh, and thats a oh, hey there kind of oh, and its
definitely not directed at Dean. He slides out from underneath the car, and scrambles to his feet
when he sees Cas in the middle of the workshop floor.
Hes in a pair of nice jeans and a button-up with an argyle sweater over it, and he looks out of
place here in the garage. Dean wants to run over and shield him from the grease and the dirt and
whatever else might be lurking around, waiting to mess him up.
Shit, Dean says, running a hand through his hair, because Cas is here which means Dean is late,
and Cas hates it when Deans late and
Relax, Cas says, his lips quirking into a small smile. Im early.
Yeah, but, Dean checks his watch. Its ten til seven. I was supposed to be off shift half an hour
ago so I could shower. He spins to Charlie, accusatory. Why didnt you say anything?
She shrugs, the picture of perfect innocence. You look better with a bit of engine grease on you.
She grins and strides up to Cas, holding out a hand. Im Charlie. Deans told me about you.
Cas takes her hand and shakes it. Castiel. Dean has told me about you as well.
Theres something weird going on with their handshake, and theyre staring each other down, and
Dean has no idea what theyre conveying to each other, but its in a language he doesnt
understand so he sighs and gets back down on the roller and slides under the car again. He might
as well finish her up.
Theyre here at Bobbys which means its not Cass territory which means its not Cass rules.
Doesnt mean Dean stops feeling unsettled or like he should rush through a shower to make sure
hes ready for seven. Its a struggle, but he keeps his hands and his mind busy on the task at hand,
and when he emerges from under the car hes feeling better.
That feeling evaporates as soon as he sees Charlie and Cas still standing next to each other, little
smiles on their faces like theyre conspiring or something. Dean shouldve made sure Charlie was
far far away before Cas came over. And then Cas turns to Dean, a small tilt of his head, and his
lips quirk up, and theres heat and promise in his eyes, and Dean drops the wrench he was
holding.
It clatters on the ground, and he drops down to pick it up, but not before he catches Cass smirk.
You better not be dropping my tools! Bobby shouts from the other room. Youd think youd

be less of a klutz with all the experience under your belt.

Fuck you! Dean calls cheerfully back, and he smiles at Bobbys answering chuckle.
And then Bobby wanders in, baseball cap resting firmly on his head. He doesnt seem surprised to
see Cas, or Charlie for that matter, and he smiles benevolently at Dean. Dean immediately doesnt
trust him.
Youre filthy boy. You should go shower.
Yeah? Dean asks, his eyes flicking from Bobby to Cas, and he suddenly has a pretty good idea
of why Bobby gave him that last car to tune-up. While you do what, exactly?
Bobby grins. Just going to settle our guest in. He turns to Cas. Beer or whiskey? And, yes, its
a test.
Are you really going to give him the third degree while I shower?
Bobby grins, unrepentant, and Dean resolves to take the quickest shower of his life.
Dont forget to wash behind your ears! Bobby calls cheerfully as Dean heads up to the house.
Dean flips him off over his shoulder. He does take a quick shower, but a thorough one, because
he doesnt want to look dirty or sloppy in front of Cas. After his shower, Dean tugs on a pair of
loose jeans and a well-worn Henley, and it makes him feel overdressed, but theyre comfort
clothes, and he pulls the sleeves over his hands as he bounds down the stairs.
You sound like a freaking elephant, Bobby complains when Dean shows up in the living room.
Bobbys in his armchair, and Cas is on the couch, and they both look alive and intact, and Dean
desperately want to know what theyve been talking about.
Dean shrugs. Figured Id give you some warning so you could stop gossiping about me.
Gossiping? Bobbys eyebrows climb up. We were swapping stories. Too bad Sam isnt here.
He knows the really embarrassing ones.
Dean drops down on the couch next to Cas but not too close. Whatever. He snags the beer out
of Cass hand and takes a drink before he freezes, because that was way out of line. But then
Cass hand settles on the back of Deans neck, a light, grounding touch and Dean relaxes. He
takes another sip and hands the bottle back.
Cas here was telling me he wants to be a professor, Bobby says.
Its a good sign that hes Cas and not Castiel, but Dean tries not to smile too wide. He doesnt
want to get his hopes up too quick. He does. Art history. Bobby relaxes like that was some sort
of test, and Dean doesnt understand why Bobby would think Cas would lie about his profession.
He tried the corporate thing, didnt like it.
Bobby nods like hes heard this part of the story, and Dean wonders if Cas has explained where
exactly he worked. Probably not.
So you want to be a college professor and Dean wants to be an elementary school teacher. Id
say thats a good match.
Aide, Dean corrects, to hide his flush at the thought of them being a good match. Im not going
to school long enough to be a teacher.

Cass fingers brush the damp hair at the back of Deans head. You can always take a few classes
once you get a job. It wont take you long to get your masters.
Dean laughs at the thought of him getting that high of a degree. I think I should stick to baby
steps.
He sells himself short a lot, Bobby says like Dean isnt sitting right there next to Cas.
I know, Cas agrees. Were working on it.
Irritation prickles under Deans skin, and he pushes to his feet. Looks like this is a conversation
that doesnt need me. Im going to put dinner on the table.
Dean, Cas says in that tone of voice that suggests Deans being unreasonable. He catches
Deans wrist before he can storm away. Well come and help you, but if we stop talking about
you then we wont have much to say to each other.
Dean scowls but it fades as Cas rubs his fingers over Deans pulse. Im sorry, he mumbles, and
he can see Bobbys eyes bugging out of his head, and it makes Dean feel weird, because who he
is with Cas isnt who he is with Bobby, and he shrugs, trying to displace the feeling of wrong that
settles over him.
Cas presses a kiss to the inside of Deans wrist. Whatd you make for dinner?
***
They stick to safe topics over dinner which eventually leads to Bobby bringing up football, and
Dean laughs, because the only football Cas has watched lately is the Thanksgiving game, but
Bobby is happy to talk about stats and predictions for Sunday nights game even if Cas doesnt
quite follow.
After dinner, Dean automatically goes to the sink and Cas stands next to him, ready to do the
dishes, but Bobby waves them off.
Go upstairs and show him your room. You can even shut the door as long as you promise to
behave yourselves.
Dean scowls and mumbles something vaguely threatening, but it does nothing to cover up his
blush so he grabs Cass hand and theyre halfway up the stairs before Dean stops abruptly and
Cas crashes into him.
Cas drops his hands to Deans hips to hold them both steady. Everything alright?
Yeah, fine, Dean says, but his voice lacks conviction. Before Cas can press further, Deans
leading them into Sams room, and he stops in the doorway like that will block Cas from seeing it.
The room isnt a mess, because Sams no longer living in it, and its not like Dean spends a lot of
time in it either. Sams bed is made with military precision, and everything is neat and organized
and carefully put away. The only bit of mess is the air mattress, because the corner sheet has
slipped, exposing the top left corner, and the comforter is in a pile at the foot of it.
Cass hand curls around Deans hip, guides him back against Cass body. Chuck Norris? he
asks, pointing to the poster mounted above Sams bed.
Its Sammys. Didnt bring it to school with him for some reason. The books he couldnt bring
because he was flying and they didnt fit. Dean points to the bookcase that takes up most of the

far wall. Sam has the whole Harry Potter series, and he has the Percy Jackson series, and Twilight
is shoved in there, because Dean had bought it and slipped it in and waited weeks for Sam to
finally notice.
Dean goes around the room, pointing out Sams desk and Sams school supplies and Sams this
and Sams that, and it isnt until Deans gaze falls on his air mattress that he realizes how much of
this room doesnt belong to him. And this is my bed, Dean says which is a pretty lame finish,
but its not like Cas will care about the box of Deans things; there are a few records, some
cassette tapes, a framed photo of his parents, and a folder with his GED. The folder now also has
his summer transcript and his fall class schedule, and Deans waiting for the day when he can slip
his diploma in there as well.
Its bouncy, he says which is pretty much all is beds got going for it. He doesnt think Bobby
has to worry about anything happening up here. An air mattress on the floor isnt exactly the best
set up to romance.
Why dont you sleep in the bed? Cas asks. Im sure your brother wouldnt mind.
Dean shrugs. Its not like Im really even here that often. And its true. The only time Dean
sleeps there is Saturday nights, and he tries not to think about how miserable those nights are.
Because he spends all week sleeping next to Cas, an arm curled around his waist, legs twined
through his, the heat of another body to comfort him and remind him hes not alone. But Saturday
nights, Dean is alone, and he cant even look up and see the shadowed lump of Sam up on the
bed, because Sams in California, and dads no longer right down the hall and Dean would much
rather never come back here at all.
So, Dean says after too long a pause. Wanna make out?
It breaks up the silence and, as a bonus, startles a laugh out of Cas. And then Cas startles Dean by
dropping down the mattress. Cas bounces a few times before the mattress settles, and he tugs
Dean down with him.
I wasnt actually serious, Dean says but he doesnt protest when Cas tips them over so Deans
on his back, caged by Cass arms.
Does that mean you dont want me to kiss you? Cas asks. Cass teeth nip lightly at Deans neck,
and it makes Dean way too aware of the fact that his neck is bare. Theres no collar there, because
theyre at Bobbys not at Cass. Theyre blurring the lines again, and Dean should put a stop to
this. He should slide out from underneath Cas and drag Cas down to the kitchen where Dean can
make dessert and they can chat with Bobby some more.
Dean certainly shouldnt ruck up his shirt, and he shouldnt grin when Cas pulls back far enough
that Dean can get his shirt completely off. Dean shouldnt guide Cass head down to his nipples.
Shouldnt tilt his head back and askbegplead, Mark me up. Wanna see that Im yours.
Dean shouldnt say it, because hes not Cass, but he says it and Cas doesnt contest it.
Cas growls, a possessive rumble that has Dean shoving a forearm into his mouth to keep himself
quiet. Cass fingers curl into Deans skin hard enough that there are going to be bruises later, more
marks for Dean to count and treasure, and then Cas drops his head to mouth at Deans right
nipple.
Dean squeezes his eyes shut and clamps his teeth down on his arm to keep his whine in. Cass
fingers press deeper in a flare of irritation, because he doesnt like it when Deans quiet. Even
when Cas gags him he wants to hear Deans harsh breathing, the desperate sounds Dean can get
out from around the gag, but tonight is different. Theyre not in Cass apartment. Theyre in

Bobbys house, and Bobbys downstairs, and being quiet is necessary.

Cas tortures and teases until Deans writhing on the mattress and all four corners of the sheet have
slipped off, until Deans afraid hes going to bite through his arm and break skin, until Dean is
flushed and panting and needing. Of course thats when Cas pulls back, a smirk playing at his lips.
We shouldnt stay up here too long, Cas says. I dont want to make a bad impression on
Bobby. Cas laughs at Deans glare and bends his head to blow a light stream of air over Deans
abused nipples. Even that sensation is too much, and Dean tries to curl away, but Cass hands
drop to Deans hips and hold him in place. Perfect. Get your shirt on and we can go downstairs.
Dean eyes his long sleeve and regrets the waffled texture of the fabric. Its going to drag against
his skin constantly and Cas, the smirking bastard, knows it. At least it has sleeves long enough to
cover the imprint of Deans teeth on his arm. Dean runs his fingers over the dimpled flesh and
then pulls his shirt on.
Cas busies himself fixing the sheet, and Dean wants to tell him not to worry about it, to leave it
alone. He doesnt, because this is Cas comfortable in Deans space the way Deans comfortable in
Cass. Dean watches Cas carefully tuck the corners of the sheet over the mattress and for a
moment he can pretend that theyre the couple theyre telling Bobby they are.
Cas is fixing the pillow when he pauses, and Deans stomach plummets, and he knows what Cas
has found before he sees the picture held delicately between Cass fingers. The color and heat
drains from Deans face and it leaves him cold, shaky, and he reaches a hand out for the picture.
Shes beautiful, Cas says handing it over.
Yeah. Dean takes the picture of his mom and tucks it into his folder of special things. He
doesnt turn back to face Cas right away. His fingers curl around the crate that holds Deans
possessions, and he clings to the plastic to keep the tears at bay. Theyve talked about his mom,
but in a shes dead, it was traumatic, discussion over kind of way. They havent talk talked yet,
and Deans not sure hes ready for it now.
Cass hands cover Dean. Its okay, Cas says.
Yeah. Cas is behind Dean, his arms on either side of Deans body, and its easy for Dean to
lean back into him, and accept the comfort thats there. Too easy. Dean cant get used to this. Its a
useless reminder, because his head drops back to Cass shoulder and Cass arms hold Dean
tighter, and Dean relaxes.
I dont remember a lot, Dean confesses. His eyes are closed, his words come out as barely more
than a whisper as if that will keep this moment from happening. Maybe Cas wont hear. Maybe
Cas will forget. I want to. I feel guilty, because without the picture I dont think Id remember
what she looks like. I remember the brush of her hair against my face when shed lean down to
kiss me goodnight. And I remember the way shed take her wedding ring off when she baked, and
shed give it to me to hold and made me promise not to lose it. I remember how warm she was
when shed hug me. I remember her voice less and less every year cause my picture doesnt come
with sound.
Dean unhooks his fingers from the crate and he turns them palm up and Cas slides his fingers
through the spaces between Deans and squeezes. Sometimes Dean thinks that if he truly loved his
mother then he would remember everything. He should be able to call up any detail in his mind.
He should see her perfectly when he shuts his eyes but instead he sees in soft lighting from the
60s. Shes airbrushed and the more he tries to focus on the little details the more she fades from his
mind.

Once, when Dean was younger, he panicked because he couldnt remember whether mom liked
to wear her hair straight or wavy. Hed asked dad to talk about her, to refresh Deans memory.
Dad had pulled Sam and Dean onto his lap, and he told them about the day he first met their mom,
but five minutes into the story he was crying so hard he couldnt speak. Dean never asked about
mom again.
Dean pulls away and Cas lets him. Lets go back down to the kitchen. I can make silver clouds.
Theyre a kind of dessert. You make a Bisquick dough and fill it with marshmallows and
peppermint patties and chocolate chips and bake it until you have this biscuit type thing full of
melted goodness. We used to make them in fire pits but an oven works just as well.
Okay.
Cas lets Dean change the subject, and he listens as Dean starts talking about Pastor Jim and the
church retreats they went on. Dean had got to go backpacking and canoeing and go on all these
outdoor adventures with other boys his age when they were staying at Pastor Jims. Its where
Dean learned how to cook over a fire, and Dean promises that if they ever go camping, Dean will
show Cas how to make a cake inside of an orange.

Chapter 30
Sam comes back to Bobbys for winter break, and he brings Jess with him. Deans on winter
break too, and hes not picking up any extra hours at the garage so hell have time to spend with
Sam. He thought about taking time off Cass, but Jess is going to be here so Dean knows hes not
going to get a lot of his brothers time. Besides, Cas is going to see his family so Dean is going to
get some time off anyways.
Cas doesnt sound happy about going out to see everyone, Dean cant blame him given recent
events, but Cas is still going. Michaels got enough sway in the world to make Cass life miserable
if he wants, and Cas is willing to go and play nice at Christmas time if thats what it takes to keep
Michael off his back. Besides, Cas wanted to see Anna and major holidays are the only
opportunities he has to see her.
Deans the one who picks Sam and Jess up from the airport, and he swears that Sams grown four
inches while hes been away. Dean gets swept up in a hug by his brother, and he smiles politely at
Jess but then she pulls him in for a hug too. Dean hugs her back, because its polite, and he glares
at Sam. Deans not this kind of person. Jess might be dating his brother, but shes a stranger. Dean
doesnt hug strangers.
Sams told me all about you, Jess says as they head out to the short-term parking lot. He said
youre studying to be a teacher.
Aide, Dean corrects, but yeah. I want to work with kids.
Her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles. Thats sweet. Sams told me how you looked
out for him when he was little. I bet youll be great with kids.
Dean shrugs off the compliment and glares at his brother, again, for being such a blabbermouth.
Sam doesnt notice. Hes too busy looking around and the closer they get to the Impala, the more
his shoulders hunch. When they reach the car itself he almost seems disappointed.
What? Dean asks as he tosses the bags in the trunk. You were hoping for a limo?
Sam rolls his eyes. Just thought dad mightve shown up, thats all. Sam shrugs like hes trying to
pretend he doesnt care that dad isnt here to pick him up.
Ah. All the color drains from Deans face. He still hasnt told Sam about dad. He cant figure
out how to bring it up. He cant get past being pissed that hes the one who has to tell Sam.
Dean? Sams too observant for his own good, and theres a tremor of worry in his voice.
Well talk about it at home, Dean says which isnt comforting, but Deans not going to tell Sam
that everythings fine just to turn around and tell him that dads left them. And Dean is definitely
not going to have this conversation in the parking lot of an airport. Hes scared Sam might get on
the next plane back to California.
Dean blows out a sigh and climbs into the drivers seat. He strokes his hands up and down the
steering wheel and lets his baby calm him down. He had a nice drive to the airport, and hell have
a nice drive home. Hell zip up his coat and roll down the windows, and hell let the bite of the
winter wind chase away his unwanted thoughts.
Dean? Sam asks again, definitely worried but this time for Dean, not dad.

How was your flight? Dean asks and its an abrupt shift, but Sam gets it. He climbs into the
back with Jess which makes Dean feel like a chauffeur, but he doesnt ask any more questions
about dad.
It was long but not too bad, Jess answers.
Dean hates flying, Sam explains. Which doesnt make any sense because its not like weve
ever done a lot of flying.
A mans not allowed to not like something without a reason? Dean asks.
Sam laughs. He gets really defensive about it. I think hes embarrassed. Sam laughs again when
Dean flips him off and after that they settle into small talk about the trip and finals, and it doesnt
take long at all for them to get to Bobbys.
Youre lucky Im on the same break schedule as you, Dean says as they unload the Impala and
head upstairs. Dont know who wouldve picked you up from the airport. The garage is crazy
right now. Dean drops Sams bags on the air mattress and they bounce once before tipping over.
So, uh, I can move this out of here if its in your way. Unless you guys want to sleep on it
because theres more room or
Dont you two share a room? Jess asks, interrupting Deans rambling. I dont want to kick you
out of your own room.
Dean huffs out a laugh. Not a big deal. I only sleep here on Saturdays anyways, and Ill just grab
the couch or, Dean doesnt let that thought go any further.
Or? Sam prompts.
Dean shrugs, flails his arms a bit. So, you two should probably get settled in. I was going to
make dinner, but Bobby wants to take you guys out as a welcome home sort of thing. Dean
makes to leave, but Sam steps in front of the doorway, blocking the exit. Hes put on some
breadth in the shoulder Dean cant help but think.
Dean, whats going on? Youre babbling, and youre being cagey about dad.
Dean wants to deflect again or maybe run away, but he knows hes put this off for as long as it
can be put off. Sams here, and hes noticed somethings up and it wont take him long to notice
that dads missing. Fine, Dean says, and he glances at Jess and Sam surprises him by reaching
out an arm and pulling Jess to his side.
Anything you have to say to me, she can hear as well.
Dean hesitates, because this isnt dad got drunk and is sleeping it off somewhere or dads on a
road trip because somethings triggered memories of mom and hes going to come back without
having shaved or showered or eaten for a week. This is the real shit, and even if hes pissed that
Jess is taking Sam away, he cant deny that theyre good together. He doesnt want her running
off, because their family has some issues.
Jess laces her fingers through Sams and turns wide, sincere eyes to Dean. Its okay. Trust me,
my family isnt a picnic either, and Sam and I have talked about both our families. What happened
with your dad?
Dean knows when hes lost a fight. He sags back against the wall. He left.
Left? Sam asks. What do you mean left?

What do you think I mean? Dean snaps. I mean, he left. Hes gone. You went off to school,
and he figured he didnt need to stick around anymore. Sams mouth opens and shuts, words
failing him. Dean plows on. He has a new family now. Knocked some woman up on his travels,
and hes settled in to try attempt number two at being a father.
It takes Sam almost a full minute but finally he manages an indignant, Dad left and you didnt
think to tell me?
I didnt think to tell you? I didnt think to tell you? Dean slams his palms against the wall so
hard Jess jumps, startled. Why the hell was it my responsibility to tell you that dad left me? It
wasnt. He told me to, because hes a fucking coward, and he couldnt even tell me to my face.
He wrote me a letter. And yes, I thought about telling you. I thought about it every time you called
me. Wondered if maybe today was the day I was going to drop the news on you, but I didnt,
because you always sounded so happy, and I didnt want to ruin that. Because you were in
fucking California, and I didnt want to tell you over the phone. Because, Dean pauses, his voice
trembling dangerously. Because I thought dad was going to come back, and I wouldnt have to.
Dean, Sam starts, but Dean shakes his head.
He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. So, now you know. And your girlfriends
here so you can cry into her shoulder or whatever the hell it is you do.
Sam reaches out a hand, but Dean brushes right by him. He takes the stairs by two and grabs his
thick winter jacket on the way out the door. His phone is in his hand and ringing before Dean
even realizes hes called someone. He wonders whose number he picked in his daze.
Hello? Bennys voice is gruff through the phone.
Hey, Dean says. He cant say hes surprised to hear Benny on the phone. There are only two
people Dean can talk to about these things, Benny and Cas. And Deans already dumped enough
shit on Cas. Uh, Deans throat is too tight, and when he rubs his eyes they come away wet.
Can I crash at your place tonight? A couch is fine, I justmy brother and his girlfriend are here,
and I cant sleep in my dads room.
Of course, Benny says. You need me to come pick you up?
Naw, Im good to drive.
When Dean gets to Bennys, Benny is waiting for him with a mug of hot chocolate and a bag of
mini-marshmallows. Benny lives in a small apartment downtown, and its not the nicest place
Deans seen, but its not a total dive either. Its on the third floor, and Dean doesnt have to get
buzzed into the building, but he does have to knock and wait for Benny to unlock the door.
The door opens into a small living room and the couch only has two cushions, but apparently its a
fold out which Benny demonstrates about two minutes into Dean being there. Dean sets his hot
chocolate down long enough to help Benny put the sheets on (only right since Deans the one
whos going to be sleeping there), and then they shove the cushions between the couch back and
the mattress and settle in to watch some college football.
They spend the whole first quarter in silence. Dean stares intently at the television screen, but he
couldnt tell you who was playing or any of the highlights if you paid him. He watches people run
up and down the field and he listens to the drone of the announcers and lets the game shove
thoughts of Sam and dad out of his head.
So, Sams back from college? Benny asks as they go to commercial break.

Deans finished his hot chocolate, but he fiddles with the empty mug. Yeah. I picked him and his
girlfriend up from the airport a couple hours ago.
Already sick of them? Benny chuckles but it falls short without Dean to back it up with even a
smile.
Dean shrugs and his grip on the mug tightens. Its cream colored, no designs or words, just a plain
ceramic mug, certainly not worth the attention hes giving it. Sam wanted to know where dad
was.
That gets Bennys attention. You hadnt told him?
Dean shrugs. Couldnt figure out a good time. He slouches down until hes sprawled out on the
couch, his neck propped up at an awkward angle.
Shit, Benny says.
Dean nods his agreement and pulls a throw pillow to his chest and curls around it. They go back
to watching football, Dean only half paying attention as his eyelids keep drooping. His eyes stay
closed for longer and longer until hes only listening to the game and then even thats gone.
***
When Dean wakes up, hes sprawled out across the bed, and theres a blanket covering him that
he definitely didnt fall asleep under. He abandons that mystery, because he can smell food
cooking in the kitchen, and he hadnt eaten dinner last night.
Shit.
He missed Sams welcome home dinner. Sams going to pout about it, and Bobbys going to
grumble about it. Deans going to have to come up with something really good in order to make
up for it.
But he can think about that later. Right now, hes ravenous. Dean runs a hand through his hair as
he wanders into the kitchen. Benny is at the stove, flipping French toast and poking at bacon.
Deans mouth waters at the scent of cinnamon. His stomach groans a reminder that its pitifully
empty and Dean tries to sneak a piece of French toast from the stack Bennys has going on a plate
next to the stove top.
Dean gets his hand batted at for the effort.
Not until its done, Benny says.
But I didnt eat dinner last night.
Whose fault is that? Despite his words, Benny nudges a piece of French toast in Deans
direction.
Dean picks it up and eats with his hands, but he manages to at least take small bites and chew with
his mouth closed. One slice of French toast isnt enough to take the edge off Deans hunger. If
anything, it makes Dean even more aware of how hungry he is, but he doubts Benny will let him
get away with taking another piece.
Anything I can do to help? Dean asks. He feels guilty about invading Bennys space, and he
feels even worse that Bennys making him breakfast.

Benny points to the juicer and the pile of oranges on the counter. Youve got some arm muscles,
right?
Dean smiles, grateful for something to do, and goes about making the orange juice to go with their
breakfast. They work without speaking. Bennys whistling fills the silence and makes it
comfortable. Breakfast itself is delicious. The bacon is cooked just right so it crunches with every
bite, and Deans going to need to get Bennys French toast recipe because its the best French
toast hes ever had. Of course, French toast makes Dean think of Sam and guilt curls in Deans
stomach and makes his breakfast sit heavy.
I should get my phone, Dean says. He looks into the living room, and its only a few feet, but
the couch seems too far away for it to be worth the effort. Sams probably freaking out.
You cant ignore him forever, Benny agrees. He doesnt give Dean the lecture he deserves, and
he doesnt try to tell Dean what to do. He just sits there, calm, relaxed, and Dean thinks its
unnatural how laid back Benny is. Or maybe Deans jealous.
Deans a swirling pit of emotions, and he cant get a firm grip on any one of them in order to get
anything productive done. His anger at dad quickly fades to regret and guilt and a brief desire to
call him up and check on him. His irritation with Sam gives way to guilt and regret and, okay,
Deans sensing a common pattern here. But when his emotions get turned in on himself, they
dont morph anymore. Hes stuck with the guilt and the regret and the resentment, and he doesnt
know what to do with it besides bask in it which he knows is unhealthy.
Dean does the dishes to buy himself a little more time, and then they fold the couch back up and
then, finally, Dean faces responsibility and pulls out his phone. Hes got two missed calls and
three texts, all from Sam. The texts are standard, where are you? followed by Im sorry followed
by dont do anything stupid.
Dean sighs and snaps his phone shut. Time for the dad conversation attempt number two.
Hopefully theyve cooled down enough to talk about it, because Dean wants to spend ten minutes
tops on it and then retire the subject for the rest of vacation. Hes given up hope that dads coming
back, and hes been dealing with that. Well, hes been ignoring the fact and Sam coming back
brings up all the things Deans trying to forget. So Dean wants to have a brief talk and then go
back to pretending he doesnt care.
Since its Sam its not going to be a brief talk. And its not going to be a onetime thing. Sam likes
to talk. About thoughts and feelings which is bad but, even worse, he likes to talk about things
outside his control. Dad and his absences are outside their control. Dean cant bring dad back. If
he couldve, he wouldve, but he cant so hes accepting that dads gone. Sam wont take that as
an answer. Or maybe he will. And that, Dean knows, is his biggest fear. Because if Sam doesnt
care, if he washes his hands of dad then Deans going to be caught between them again. And they
both have new places to call home and what if neither of them ever comes back?
Dean, Benny claps a hand over Deans shoulder. Its warm and reassuring, and everything
Dean needs right now. He wants to crumple up and let Benny tell him that everythings going to
be okay, but Dean doesnt have that luxury. Benny isnt dad and he isnt Bobby. Hes just some
guy who made the mistake of getting mixed up with the Winchesters.
Dont, Dean says. His gaze slides away from Bennys to the haphazard stack of DVDs that
clutter up the entertainment system. Dean fingers itch to organize them or, at the very least,
straighten them out so theyre not stacked crookedly on top of each other.
He doesnt think you need him, Benny says. Hes always seen you as the strongest one in the
family. Thats why he left when he did.

Well, Im not. Dean ducks under Bennys hand and shoves his wallet into his back pocket.
Thanks for the couch. And breakfast.
Benny shrugs. Any time.
Deans halfway to the door when he pauses. Were probably going to do some sort of Christmas
thing at Bobbys. Itll be small, a couple people only. You should come.
Well see.
Dean nods and heads out.
***
When Dean gets back from Bennys, Bobby is leaning against the kitchen counter. He has a cup
of coffee clutched in his hands. He looks up when Dean comes in, but he doesnt say anything.
Dean thinks thats worse than if Bobby was yelling.
Dean stops in the middle of the kitchen and ducks his head. Im sorry I missed dinner last night.
Sam says you two had an argument?
Its phrased like a question, but it isnt one. Bobby knows that Dean and Sam got into a fight not
even two hours after Sam came back from college. No wonder Sam only comes back when he
absolutely has to.
Yeah. I shouldnt have walked out. Dinner was good though?
Jess is a nice girl. Sams done well for himself. Bobby hesitates. You going to bring Cas over
to meet them?
No.
Dean, Bobby starts, but Dean doesnt want to have this conversation. Not now. Not ever. But
especially not now.
I should go talk to Sam.
Like the coward he is, Dean flees before Bobby can press further. Because to Bobby, Dean looks
like a jerk right now. Theres no reason for Cas not to meet Sam. Not that Bobby knows of at
least. And this is exactly why Dean hadnt wanted Cas to meet Bobby. Hadnt wanted him to
meet anyone in Deans family. Work and family are supposed to be separate.
Dean reaches the top the stairs and pauses at the sight of Sams closed door. Dean wants to stall,
but he cant put this off more than he already has. Sam deserves the truth of what happened. Its
not Sams fault dad left, and its not Sams fault dad waited until he did to leave.
Dean knocks lightly on Sams door so he doesnt wake Sam and Jess if theyre sleeping. Theres
some rustling then a moment later the door cracks open. Sams in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms
and beyond him Jess is in a pair of tiny shorts and an even tinier Smurf top.
I was a jackass last night, Dean says. Sorry.
Sams face twists into an awkward, pained expression, and Deans reminded of why they dont do
things like apologize to each other. Dean

No. It was your first night back, and I shouldnt have stormed off the way I did. Why dont you
two get dressed and well talk.
Where did you go? Sam asks. Jess tosses him a t-shirt, and he tugs it on over his head. The car
was missing. Please tell me you didnt sleep in a parking lot somewhere.
Jess slips into one of Sams flannels and buttons it up. Its longer than her shorts, but she finds a
pair of sweatpants to pull on too.
Im not an idiot, Dean says. Last night was too cold to spend the night in the car. I crashed at
Bennys.
Bennys? Sams eyebrows climb up. Like dads sponsor Benny?
Yeah. That Benny. Dean shrugs off Sams look. Hes an okay guy even if he let dad reduce
him to messenger. Its the perfect segue into the conversation they need to have, but Dean still
hesitates. Hes been running away from this talk for months. Hes not ready for it.
Here? Sam asks opening the door more. Or should we go somewhere else?
Kitchen. You two must be hungry.
Dean
I know. Im not putting it off. He wants to, but its time to face this and get it over with. I just,
he needs to be busy while he talks. He needs to let the words pour out without focusing on them.
Dean takes the stairs by two and ignores Bobbys look when he reaches the kitchen. As soon as
Sam and Jess come in, Bobby makes himself scarce. Coward, Dean thinks, but really hes just
jealous.
Dean pulls the eggs and the milk out of the fridge then goes back in for the vegetables and the
leftover ham.
The silence in the kitchen stretches while Dean turns on the burner and starts working on the
omelets. It isnt until hes beating the eggs that he finally begins to talk.
Dad has a son. Dean doesnt look up at Sam, doesnt stop whipping the eggs. Hes four now.
His name is Adam. Dad was visiting him when he got arrested for his OUI. I guess Kate, Adams
mom, has been pressuring dad into being a bigger part of Adams life. Theres no need to keep
dragging the fork through the eggs, but Dean cant make himself stop. I guess he figured with
you off to college that his obligations to us were done.
Deans body is so tense hes afraid its going to crack and shatter under the pressure. He grabs a
few ingredients at random; some ham cubes, some onions, a couple mushrooms, and he tosses
them into the egg and milk mixture.
So dads gone. Dean dumps the contents of the bowl into the skillet. And I dont know if hes
coming back this time.
Dean.
Dean finally looks up at his brother, and Sam isnt as torn up as Dean had expected. Dean was a
wreck when he found out. He was barely functional. But Sam? Sam looks resigned.
No, Dean says, cutting off whatever speech Sam is building up to. You dont get to tell me I

told you so.

I wouldnt.
Dean believes him. This is too serious for Sam to pull that kind of shit. But its written into Sams
body language. Its in the set of Sams shoulders and the sympathy in his eyes. There are no tears
over dad. Theres only pity for Dean who was too dumb to see this coming.
Dean has to step away from the burner before he accidently burns himself. Anyway, dad told me
this in a letter that Benny had to give me. And I shouldve told you sooner.
Anger and guilt swirl under Deans skin, filling him up, stretching his skin until Deans afraid hes
going to explode. He needs to get out of the house. He needs to go for a run or go for a drive or
do something that will burn off this destructive energy before it swallows him whole.
He shouldve told you in person, Sam says.
Dad shouldve done a lot of things, but theres nothing to be done about it now.
Guess we all make mistakes, Dean says. He runs a hand through his hair and fights the
temptation to tug. Hes in one of those hurt or be hurt moods. He needs to get out. He needs to get
away from his family. He drags his palms down his jeans. Are we good?
Sam seems puzzled. What?
If you want to talk more then you should ask questions. If not, Im going to go out.
Dean doesnt elaborate and Sam doesnt question. He just nods. Yeah, no. Go for it. I just move
the eggs around the pan?
Dean looks over at the forgotten burner. I was cooking. Right. I wont leave yet.
Ive got it, Jess says, easily stepping between Dean and the stove. She smiles like she doesnt
realize the danger shes put herself in.
Dean swallows and forces his hands to stay unclenched. Yeah. Ive heard all about your
breakfast dates. Dean flashes a smile that anyone could tell is fake. No one calls him on it, and he
goes up to Sams room to change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
Downstairs, Jess is either salvaging the mess of eggs Dean started or starting the omelet over.
Either way, Sam doesnt need Dean to take care of him anymore. It sits as well as with Dean as
Benny trying to take Deans place, but Deans not going to let himself sink as low as he did last
night. Hes not going to fight Jess, and hes not going to provoke Cas.
Deans going to go on a run and handle this on his own.

Chapter 31
Chapter Summary

It's Christmas time!!!!

The Christmas thing turns into a four day affair, because Ellen and Jo and Ash come up, but it
isnt until the third night that Charlie and Benny and a couple people from the garage show up.
Everyones in ridiculous sweaters, and Ellen makes them pose for a picture, and they take it four
times and they still dont end up with one where everyones eyes are open, but they call it quits
after that, because Bobby sick of sitting and smiling, and Jo wont stop poking Sam to make him
jump and ruin the shot.
Drink time! Jo announces. Ive been working on my drink mixing so Ill be your bartender
tonight. What does everyone want? Just kidding, you dont get a choice.
She twirls into the kitchen, Jess following her, because shes interested in learning how to make
drinks, and Ash trails in after them hoping to get his hands on some vodka or rum or something
before Jo adds all that girly shit.
Shes a good girl, Ellen says with a nod towards the kitchen. I hope you two work out.
Sams gaze follows Jess into the kitchen and when he catches himself he looks at Ellen, his cheeks
pink. Yeah, me too.
Now we just have to find someone for Dean, Ellen says. You meet any girls at school yet?
Ive met plenty of girls. My psych classes are full of them.
Youre being obtuse.
Dean flashes her a smile and pretends he doesnt see the look Bobbys giving him. Because
Bobby knows about Cas; well, he knows that Deans in a long-term relationship with a guy, and
hes probably wondering why Dean isnt saying anything. Charlies watching him too like she can
read the secrets of his mind if she stares long enough.
Dean wishes he had a bottle of beer to distract himself with. He could take a sip, pick at the label,
give himself something to do besides think about Cas. Deans lying to Bobby and to Charlie by
letting them think that theres something there, because theyre not dating, not like Sam and Jess.
He cant bring Cas to something like this and be like hey meet the guy whos paying to put Sam
through college. In case you hadnt figured it out, hes paying because Im fucking him.
Dean pushes to his feet. Where are those damn drinks?
Hold your horses! Jo shouts from the kitchen. Shes picked up her mothers supernatural sense
of hearing. Were coming.
Jo is expertly balancing a tray of drinks, and she goes around the room, handing them out. She
starts with her mother, moves onto Bobby, then Benny who gives a polite smile and shakes his
head, and then shes offering Dean a glass of something purple.

Deans about to take it when he sees Jess slide onto Sams lap, a smile on her face and a drink in
her hand, and Sam smiles back and kisses her cheek, and Dean pulls his hand back.
Im all set.
Immediately, everyones attention is on him, and Dean wants to shrink back into his chair, wants
to snap at them to mind their own business. So, he might be a little jealous of his brother which is
pathetic. And he might be wishing that Cas hadnt gone to see his family for a whole week,
because Deans practically crawling out of his skin with the need to see him. He shouldnt
because its a job, and Dean shouldnt need Cas, but he does.
Everything alright? Bobby asks.
Dean offers up a weak smile. Purples more Charlies color than mine. Im just going to step
outside for a minute, get some air. He escapes before anyone can think to follow, and he breathes
in the crisp winter air, and he knows its going to snow soon. Tomorrow by the latest, but hes
betting the flurries will start tonight.
He climbs into the Impala to protect himself from the wind even though she isnt much warmer
than the outside and pulls out his phone.
I miss you.
He types out the text and sends it before he means to and as soon as he realizes hes done it, hes
shooting off another one.
Sorry. Shouldnt have said that.
Thats not how they are. Theyre honest about a lot of things; they have to be, but their feelings
are something theyve done a good job of not voicing. Theyre there, theres no denying that;
Deans seen the way Cas looks at him sometimes, sees the words on the tip of his tongue, but
theyre never said. It would be confirmation that this is something that it shouldnt be, that this has
strayed into dangerous territory, that they would have to stop, and Deans afraid of stopping. Hes
afraid to lose Cas, and hed rather pretend he feels nothing than have nothing.
It doesnt take long for him to get a response back. Are you drunk right now?
Dean laughs, a sharp, bitter sound that gets echoes around in the quiet of the yard, because hed
wanted an out, but he doesnt want this. It would be easy to send back a quick yes, and it would
hide the truth or excuse it, but Dean knows Cas would be disappointed if Dean was drunk texting
him, and Dean doesnt want to be a disappointment.
No. Just an idiot.
Theres a long pause, and Deans afraid that maybe the truth was the worse option so when his
phone buzzes he ignores it. Until the third buzz blends into the fourth, and he realizes hes getting
a call not a text.
He fumbles with his phone, almost dropping it, because his hands are cold, but eventually he gets
it open and to his ear. You didnt have to call. Arent you with your family?
Which is why I dont feel bad for stepping out to make a phone call. What about your family?
Theyre good. Loud. Happy. Sam and his girlfriend are being ridiculously cute. Theyre sitting
together being cute and coupley, and it makes me want to spend long winter nights curled up in

your bed. It makes me want to bring you to our little Christmas get togethers so you can laugh at
Ellens jokes and drink Jos concoctions and hold my hand. It makes me want you to be more than
what you are.
And youre talking to me instead?
Deans already made the mistake of honestly admitting how he feels once. Hes not about to go
and do it again. I can hang up if you want.
No, Cas says, too quick, and Dean relaxes at that, because maybe hes not the only one feeling
something.
Okay. Dean holds the phone between his ear and his shoulder and shoves his hands under his
armpits to try and warm them up a bit. Were having an ugly sweater party so I have an albino
reindeer on my sweater. Rudolph the Red-Eyed reindeer.
Cas huffs out a small laugh. I wish we were doing something like that. Were in our Sunday
finest, and Id forgotten how uncomfortable formal wear is now that I work from home.
The life of a student spoiling you?
I get to sit around my apartment in whatever I feel like and read about Renaissance art. Of course
its spoiling me. But Im going to be done soon and then Im going to have to enter the working
world.
Cas says this like its some great imposition, but Dean knows its bullshit. Youre going to get to
teach Renaissance art to people who are almost as passionate about it as you are. If anything,
youre going to get even more spoiled.
Ill have to wear real clothes. Right now, I can lounge around in my apartment in sweatpants and
a t-shirt.
You wear sweatpants when Im not there? Dean feels cheated. And now he wants to see Cas in
sweatpants.
Yes, Cas answers, smug like he knows Deans train of thought is completely derailed now.
What are you wearing besides your sweater right now?
Not enough, Dean thinks shivering against the cold. Jeans. Boots. The usual.
Boots in the house? Cas asks and this isnt the direction Dean wanted the conversation to go in.
Maybe he shouldve said hes wearing one of those ridiculous Santa skirts that stores love to sell
around this time.
Not in the house.
Cas is quiet for a long moment. Are you outside?
Uh, yes? Dean says, because he wants to tell the truth but hes pretty sure thats the wrong
answer.
Theres snow on the ground and youre outside in jeans and a sweater?
Definitely the wrong answer. The house is loud. And its not that cold. We dont even have
snow yet. Of course, now that Deans thinking of it, it is that cold. His jaw aches from clenching
his teeth to keep them from chattering, and his ears feel like solid blocks of ice, and his nose hurts

from the chill. So maybe this wasnt his best idea. But he wants to talk to Cas, and he doesnt
want to risk someone interrupting his conversation so outside is safest. And technically, Im in
the car.
Is the car on?
Deans silence is answer enough.
Go get warm, Cas says, voice firm, brooking no room for argument. Ill talk to you tomorrow.
Dean doesnt want to wait until tomorrow to talk to him, but he recognizes an order when he hears
one.
Ill text you first, Cas says, and if you can find someplace alone, and inside to be, maybe we
can get back to talking about what were wearing.
Theres a suggestion and promise in his voice that makes Dean shiver, and not from the cold.
Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.
Dean shuts his phone and fumbles with the car latch and heads back towards the house. His legs
are stiff from sitting in the cold, and hes almost to the front door when he spots Benny leaning
against the side of the house, a cigarette between his fingers.
I didnt know you smoked, Dean says, and Benny startles at his voice and looks away, guilty.
Bad habit I picked up when I started drinking, and Ive quit the drinking and mostly quit the
smoking but every once in a while. Benny shrugs. When I get the urge to drink, I figure its
better to have one of these, because at least I can stop at one.
Benny always seems so controlled that it surprises Dean to see him not only struggle but admit to
it, and then Dean remembers that when he left, Jo was mixing drinks for everyone, and he knows
his family; they dont stop with just one.
Sorry, Dean says, because he shouldve said something.
Nothing for you to be sorry for. Holidays are hard, but Im making it through. He smiles, a bit
self-depreciating, and takes another drag of his cigarette.
Why dont we take a walk? Get something warm to drink?
Benny hesitates then drops his cigarette and grinds it out with his heel. You should put a coat on
though.
Dean grabs a coat and they head down the street and end up at Dunkin Donuts, and Dean gets a
peppermint hot chocolate and a toasted blueberry muffin, and hes grinning as he and Benny take
a seat at one of the pink tables. His fingers are tingling and his ears hurt as blood starts flowing
again, but his muffin is soaked through with butter, and he can already imagine how good its
going to taste.
You didnt have to do this, Benny says, his hands cupped around a hot chocolate of his own. I
reckon you dont get to see all them that often.
Dean shrugs. In case you didnt notice, I escaped before you did. Its nice seeing them but,
Dean flashes a small smile, holidays are hard. Because holidays are about family, and
sometimes he can get lost in the smiles and the laughter and Ellens food and Bobbys jokes, but
sometimes he gets yanked out of the cheer and his chest aches with everything thats missing;

mom, now dad, even Cas. And Dean knows he should be grateful for who he does have in his
life, but sometimes he just needs some space so he wont bring down the mood of the party.
Benny laughs at the echo of his words. Yeah. Nice of you to have me over. Usually I spend the
holidays at AA meetings, because thats the only way Ill stay strong enough not to give in. He
takes a long drink of his hot chocolate.
Well, holidays or not, youre welcome to come hang out with us. I know I wasnt the most
accommodating in the beginning, but I dont mind having you around. Dean picks at his muffin
to hide from the confession.
Of course you didnt like me, Benny says. And I dont know if Im about to help the situation,
but I have something for you from your dad. He digs into his pocket and hands over a folded
piece of paper. Hopefully it means something to you, because to me it was just a bunch of
numbers.
Dean takes the scrap of paper and opens it up. Its a series of numbers, and they do mean
something to him. When they were younger, dad used to give them a date and a time and a set of
coordinates, and if Sam and Dean managed to get to the location on time theyd get a prize. Sam
had thought it was a stupid game, but it didnt take Dean long to realize that it was some kind of
code, training leftover from dads military days. Dean liked to pretend that he was James Bond
and that the instructions were part of his spy training.
They havent done anything like it in years, and Deans thumb brushes over the numbers,
nostalgic. Its an apology, and its not much of one, but maybe thats the prize if he and Sam make
it.
There are tears prickling at the corners of Deans eyes and he clears his throat before he offers up
a gruff, thanks.
Benny nods and they go back to their hot chocolates.
***
Dean debates when to tell Sam; whether he should tell him right away or wait until hes sleepy
and therefore more pliant, or if he should just kidnap him and drag him to the motel the
coordinates lead them to.
In the end, Dean tells him the day of. Theyre supposed to meet dad at 1400 hours, and Dean
waits until breakfast to spring the news. Jess made breakfast, because apparently shes perfect like
that, and Dean eats his waffle loaded with strawberries and bananas and drizzled with Nutella.
So, Im going out this afternoon, Dean says.
Bobby looks up from his waffle, eyebrows raised. You going to ask if you can borrow the car
too?
Got a car of my own but thanks. Dean grins then looks over at Sam. Im going on a scavenger
hunt if youre in.
Sam drops his fork, and it clatters to the floor, and the kitchen is eerily quiet afterwards. What?
Dean passes over the piece of paper that hes been carrying around since Benny gave it to him. I
already looked it up. Its a motel in Yankton.
Jess looks from Dean to Sam, and she looks confused, but she doesnt say anything, and Dean

thinks she might be more perceptive than Dean gave her credit for.
Dean, Sam starts.
Look, you dont have to come. I get it if you dont want to. Im going, and if you want to come
with me then you can. If Jess wants to come she can come too. Dean goes back to his waffle, but
he feels queasy as he waits for Sam to answer.
Ill come, Sam says. His voice sounds distant. Ill definitely come, just
Dean shrugs because he doesnt have the answers.
Sam nods and he turns to Jess, and shes suddenly behind him, a hand on his shoulder. Were
going to see my dad. You want to come meet him?
She squeezes his shoulder. Sure.
Dean misses Cas again. He knows that hell be able to call Cas, and that in a few days hell be
able to go to Cass apartment and curl up on his lap or his bed, and Cas will take care of him, put
the pieces of him back together, but he wishes Cas could come with them. He wishes he had
someone standing behind him, supporting him, when they go to see dad.
Awesome, Dean says. Well leave around noon.
***
John is waiting for them when they get there. Hes in room 25 under Kaz Winchester, and when
he answers the door he looks just as afraid as Dean feels. So Dean takes a deep breath and takes a
step forward and pulls him in for a hug, and theres a brief heart stopping moment when Dean
thinks dad isnt going to hug him back, but then he does, strong arms wrapping around Dean and
holding tight.
Merry Christmas, Dean says and he pretends his voice doesnt break.
John lets him pretend, and Dean moves aside so Sam can come into the room, and theres another
drawn out moment of awkward what do we do before John holds a hand out to Sam, and Sam
shakes it but pulls him in for a hug, and Dean finally starts to relax. Sam and dad have butted
heads since Sam could talk, but it appears that theyre going to put all that history aside for the
afternoon.
And whos this? John asks when he sees Jess.
Jessica Moore, she says with a smile. Sam reaches out to hold her hand, and John smiles.
Ah. Did you meet at Stanford?
We live in the same dorm, Jess says and once she steps into the room, John shuts the door. But
we met, because he got lost on the way to the pre-law meeting and ended up in the pre-nursing
one instead. She smiles fondly up at Sam who mostly just looks embarrassed.
Dean laughs and plops down on the couch. Its a small room, just a twin bed and a couch and a
table, but dad brought one of those mini plastic Christmas trees, the kind they used to have when
they were little and had Christmases like this, spent in motel rooms, because they were chasing the
arsonist.
They would crowd around the little tree, and there would be newspaper wrapped presents under

the tree, and they would eat cheese off of Christmas tree shaped Ritz crackers. One year, Dean
bought Sam a mini-stocking and filled it with rocks and Sam cried until Dean brought out the pile
of stuff that was supposed to go in the stocking; bubbles and Christmas tree Reeses and flavored
candy canes. Sam had give Dean a giant hug and wiped his snot all over Deans t-shirt and dad
just shook his head at them.
Trees looking a little lonely, Dean says, and he pulls three presents out of his pockets and puts
them under the tree. Dads is wrapped in the car sale paper and Sams is in the comics, and Jesss
is wrapped in some article about the health benefits of fish oil.
John smiles, even as tears rise up in his eyes, and he goes over to the backpack on the bed to get
the presents he brought.
We brought some too, Sam says, and he and Jess add their wrapped packages until the table is
littered with presents.
I brought the cranberry juice, John says, digging a bottle of juice and stack of cups out of his
bag. Afraid its going to be a bit warm.
Thats fine, Dean says, and he makes room on the couch for dad to sit next to him. Today isnt
perfect, and theres tension underlying everything, but its a start, and Dean willing to hope that
its a good one.
Well then, John says pouring out four cups. To family?
He sounds hesitant and Dean raises his plastic cup. To family.
Sam and Jess raise their glasses as well. To family.
***
Jess and Sam head back to California to spend the New Year and the rest of their break with her
family, and the house seems terribly empty with them gone. Dean only has to mope around the
house for one day before Cas gets back from his vacation, and going to Cass that night feels like
going home.
Dean strips with eager fingers and a trembling in his limbs, because phone calls and texts were
nice, but they couldnt replace being here. When he reaches for his collar, though, it isnt there.
His chest tightens, almost painful, as he looks through each of the boxes for where it might be.
Looking for this?
Dean turns to see Cas standing not even five feet away from him, the collar dangling from two of
his fingers.
Cas smiles and beckons Dean forward, and Dean almost stumbles over his feet as he moves,
because its been too long since hes seen Cas, too long since hes worn his collar, and its been
ages since Cas put it on himself.
Cas doesnt unbuckle it straight away. He lets it slide down his arm like an oversized bracelet, and
he cradles Deans neck in his hands and kisses him. Its sweet and slow and nothing that Dean
wants. He wants to wrap himself up in Cas, wants panting breaths and roaming hands and rough
touches. He wants everything hes missed these past two weeks. He wants to know that Cas has
missed him even a fraction as much as Dean has missed Cas.
Cass thumbs rub over Deans Adams apple, press gently at the tender skin under Deans jaw.
They touch and map out Deans neck. Nails scratch lightly over skin then the pads of his fingers

soothe the faint red lines.

Finally, Cas pulls back, and Dean feels the loss of Cass lips, of his hands. His neck feels naked
and cold, and Dean has to resist the urge to curl one of his own hands around it. Please, Dean
says and he doesnt care if hes pathetic for needing this, if Cas is going to laugh at Dean for
missing him, because Dean does need this and he did miss Cas. He will do anything Cas wants,
say anything as long as it gets Cass hands back on him.
I know, Cas says and he unbuckles the collar, runs a loving hand across the leather before
pressing it against Deans neck. I know what you need.
Dean melts into the words, and he knows there are tears rising in his eyes, but he doesnt try to
fight them. Cas buckles the collar, checks to make sure it isnt too tight and then he pulls Dean in
for a hug. Its the hug that sends Deans over the edge. Its the way Cas wraps Dean up in his
arms, holds him tight like he never wants to let him go, holds him close like he needs to make up
for the time theyve been apart. Its the way Cas tucks Deans face into his neck, the way Cas
presses his lips against Deans hair.
Dean lets go. He lets his body go loose, trusting Cas to hold him up. He lets his tears spill over,
because he knows Cas wont judge him, because he needs to let out what hes feeling, and hes
afraid to give voice to his thoughts. He blinks damp eyelashes against Cass neck and shudders as
Cas runs a soothing hand down his back.
I know, Cas says. I know.

Chapter 32
Chapter Notes

As some of you have noticed, and gotten excited over, AO3 has been changing the
chapters to Chapter X/?. I'm sorry but the question mark is false. Despite all of AO3's
attempts to get me to write more this is the last week of the story. There's today's
chapter, Wednesday's chapter, and Friday's Epilogue.
Warnings: use of alcohol as a coping mechanism,

Christmas break changed things, and Deans able to admit it. Hes even able to start thinking
about what to do about those changes. Its how he ends up at Starbucks one day after class with
financial aid forms from Stanford and Killian on the table as well as a paper with scribbled figures
from the garage and Cas. Its how he ends up with a splitting headache but the small tendril of
hope that this might have a chance of working.
Dean cant lose himself completely in his relationship with Cas the way he wants to. He cant
bring Cas to meet his family, and he still feels awkward around Gabriel, and he hasnt met any of
Cass friends or anything, and if they were dating instead of Dean working for him then maybe he
could.
The thought of changing the status quo terrifies him, because what if Cas doesnt want to date him
or what if Cas gets freaked out by feelings and pulls back; what if Dean takes a chance and loses
what he has now?
Its why hes adding up the cost of tuition for Stanford undergrad and Stanford Law without
scholarships and adding to it Deans full tuition and then car payments and insurance and every
little expense he might have until the number is so big its frightening. If he keeps working for
Cas, it will take years to pay it off. So maybe he shouldnt quit. Maybe he should keep things the
way they are. Theyre good and he doesnt need to push for better. Not when hes already happy.
Its selfish and greedy to want more.
Ew, numbers, Victor says dropping into the chair across from Dean. He flashes Dean a smile
and raises his coffee in greeting. You mind a little distraction?
No, not at all. Dean shuffles the papers into a pile and pushes them to the side.
Didnt think so. From the look on your face its financials. Everything okay?
Dean shrugs. Looking at the long-term numbers is scary. Thats all.
Your brother? Victor guesses. When Dean nods, Victor shakes his head. You realize that not
everythings your responsibility? He holds up a hand to cut off Deans immediate protest.
College isnt cheap, and I know plenty of kids with two working parents who cant afford it
outright and you know what? They take out loans and then after the kids graduated and got a job,
they pay them off. Its admirable that you take care of your brother, and hes lucky to have you
supporting him, but you dont have to do everything.
I dont want him to miss out on anything, Dean says. He thinks back to when they were little

and traveling place to place and how Sam never got to join a soccer team or play Little League or
even do Pop Warner. There were plenty of clubs that Sam didnt get to join because they werent
in one place long enough or because they didnt have the money to do it, and Deans been
determined to make sure that will never be the case again.
He wont, Victor promises. From what youve told me hes a smart kid, and hes hard
working. Hell be able to find opportunities, but you cant hand him everything he wants. If you
do, hell never learn how to work for something he truly wants.
So, Deans somehow failed Sam by trying to take care of him?
Stop making that face, Victor says, You havent screwed him up. But it wont kill him to take
out his own loans for law school, to find scholarships, to find a job. You cant hold his hand
through the rest of his life.
Cas has told Dean something similar, but that doesnt stop Deans initial reaction from being
protect Sam. From since he can remember its been watch out for Sammy, and Dean cant shake
that even now that Sams grown up and in college and halfway across the country. Sams doing
just fine, living at school and taking care of himself, and hes got Jess, and he doesnt need Dean
anymore.
But why cant I hold it for a little bit longer?
Victor pulls the papers out from their stack and spreads them out in front of Dean. Youre going
over the numbers again which means youre in trouble or theres something you want to do, but if
you were in trouble, youd have come to talk to me about postponing your major while you took
on another job. Theres something you want, and youre trying to figure out if you can make it
work. Victor taps the top sheet. You can.
Dean draws the papers towards him. You dont know what it is I want to do. He wants to put
an end to a steady stream of income. He wants to throw away 180k a year to pursue a relationship
hes not even sure will work out. Its stupid, its reckless, its selfish, its everything Dean knows
better than to be.
But I know you. Victor smiles and leans back in his chair. Its not the money youre worried
about. Stop using it as an excuse.
Dean narrows his eyes, suspicious. Are you using your FBI psychology powers on me?
Victor grins. The force is strong with me. So, tell me whats troubling you.
Victor is Deans advisor, and hes been incredibly helpful with helping Dean with school and
figuring out what kind of career he wants, but they dont usually talk personal things. Still, its not
like Dean can afford to be picky; there arent many people in his life hed consider a friend.
Its a little bit about money. Dean pops the lid off his hot chocolate and takes a drink. Weve
never been financially stable. We moved around too much for dad to get a steady job, and I
worked a few odd jobs to bring in a bit of cash when I could, but we never lived comfortably.
And now I have a chance to change that and, I want to choose myself over a comfortable life for
Sam, and I want to be selfish.
Victor nods, but he doesnt say anything so Dean goes on.
I have this job, and I make more money than I ever thought I could, but theres this person,
Dean tightens his grip on his cup and looks over across the shop to where two girls had come in
and were pointing at the glass display case trying to choose between a giant cookie and a

marshmallow bar, I cant have both.

So its a job or a guy you like?
I didnt say guy. Dean draws in on himself, immediately defensive.
Psychology powers, remember? And you can relax, Im not going to judge you or walk out on
your or whatever worst case scenarios are going through your head. Now, back to my original
question; youre choosing between a job and a guy?
Dean nods.
Youre allowed to want things in life.
Im going to school.
Youre allowed to have more than one thing that you want. You need to let go of Sams hand not
only because Sam needs to be free to do things with his life but because you need to too. If you
deny yourself everything because of him, sooner or later youre going to resent him.
Dean makes a face. So what youre saying that quitting my job will be good for him in the long
run?
No, Victor says, endlessly patient. Im saying it will be good for you, and you deserve to have
more good things in your life.
Dean hesitates, not buying it. What if things dont work out with him? Then Ive lost my job and
him.
Is he worth taking a risk for? Thats the question you should be asking instead of poring over
tuition costs.
Dean sets his hot chocolate down with a sigh. I know, but thats a harder question to answer. I
cant be wrong with numbers. Either we can afford it or we cant. If I choose to take the risk and
Im wrong, Dean doesnt finish that sentence. He doesnt like where it goes.
I think youre going to need a brownie, Victor says and he gets up and goes to buy some baked
goods before Dean can protest.
***
Dean spends a week deliberating. He has a hard time falling asleep at night. He stares up at the
ceiling and listens to Cas breathe while he tries to figure out whether he should go through with
this or not. Hes afraid that hes read this wrong and maybe Cas doesnt have feelings and if Dean
admits to having them then Cas might turn Dean away and Dean wont get to have nights like this
anymore, wrapped up in Cass arms and his blankets. Dean will cuddle closer, rest his head
against Cass chest and cling to this for another night, because he cant let it go.
It shouldnt come as a surprise that Cas figures out that something is wrong, because Dean isnt
100% since his talk with Victor. Part of his mind is always whirring, cataloguing the things he
would miss if he lost Cas and adding up the things that would be better if they were in a romantic
relationship instead of a paid one.
But, one Friday night, Dean gets to Cass and there are Chinese takeout containers on the table,
and Dean freezes because Cas is finishing dinner. He ordered dinner and ate it even though Dean
was coming, and all Dean can think is he doesnt want me. He doesnt need me.

We need to talk, Cas says and he moves into the living room and Dean trails behind him,
confused. Cas sits down on the couch and pats his lap and Dean slides into place, and it feels
weird, because hes wearing his lounge pants, the ones he wears to cook. Only he didnt cook
tonight, and hes still wearing the pants, and it feels off. Wrong.
Im sorry. Dean runs through the past few days, tries to think of where he went wrong. He cant
think of anything, and Cas isnt one to punish Dean without warning, and when he does punish
him there isnt usually a delay like this.
You dont need to apologize. Cas rests his hands on Deans hips, a light touch, just enough that
Dean knows hes there. You havent done anything wrong. I wanted to check in. You seem
distracted. Is everything alright?
Its the perfect opening. If Deans going to say it, nows the time to do it. He fiddles with Cass
tie, nervous, and he darts his eyes up to see if its okay. Cas is watching him with concern but
theres no censure there. Dean looks away.
Everythings fine. Ive been doing some thinking. Dean has to pause, because hes afraid hes
going to be sick. Cas is patient, waits as Deans stomach settles enough that he opens his mouth to
speak again. I dont want to do this for money anymore. He gets it out in a rush, and his fingers
squeeze Cass tie, and he chances a glance at Cas.
Cass mouth is parted slightly, his eyes are wide, and not a single muscle twitches, and Deans
afraid for a moment that hes broken him but then Cas presses his lips together and swallows, and
Dean can see a wall sliding down. It hurts more than he thought it would; probably because hed
thought Cas might not feel the same way but he never believed it. Seeing the evidence in front of
him is like a hammer to the chest.
Oh, Dean says, and its more like a quiet exhale, barely there, and he clings to the tie like a
lifeline, and he closes his eyes and wishes he could take back the last five minutes. He wishes he
could say just kidding and they could go back to the way things were. Maybe they can. Maybe
Dean can fix this. Hes good. Cas thinks so.
Cass fingers ease Deans hold on the tie, and Dean shakes his head, but he straightens out his
fingers at Cass nudging until the tie drops back against Cass button up, and Deans left holding
nothing.
Dean sits on Cass lap feeling lost, and he wants to press forward, wants to curl his fingers around
Cass shoulders. But Cas gives Deans hips a gentle push. Its best if you go, he says, and his
voice wavers, and Dean wants to know why Cas is doing this if it upsets him. Dean doesnt want
to go. Cas doesnt have to push him away. But Cas pushes and Dean goes, because he has too
much dignity to beg Cas to let him stay until Dean can wrap his head around the fact that hes
being rejected.
Dean, Cas says and Dean shakes his head and he turns away so Cas wont see the tears rising in
his eyes.
Please. I dontI cant talk about it. He doesnt want to hear the reasons or the excuses or the
apologies. If Cas doesnt want him then Cas doesnt want him. Dean will find a way to hold
himself together until he gets back to Bobbys and then he can fall to pieces. He just needs to hold
on for a few more minutes.
Dean, Cas says again, and the back of his hand brushes Deans. Its barely a touch, but its
enough to make Dean turn, and Cas taps his neck.

Dean takes a step back, his hands flying up to the collar like he can protect it, like Cas will forget
its there. But Cass gaze doesnt waver, and Deans fingers tremble as they undo the buckle. It
takes him a few tries, but he steps away when Cas tries to help him, because Dean doesnt want to
think of Cas taking his collar off. He wants his memories to be full of Cas putting it on, slipping
the leather through the buckle that first night Cas gave it to him.
Dean drops the strip of leather into Cass waiting palm, and Cass fingers curl around it. Dean
doesnt understand why he cant keep it. He wants something to remember this by. Whats Cas
going to do it? Hang it up next to Samandriels collar if he kept that one too? Mementoes of the
subs that didnt work out; the one who didnt care enough and the one who cared too much?
Well, Dean says, his voice thick with unshed tears. I guess thats it.
Yeah, Cas echoes. He clears his throat. Have a good night.
Doubtful, Dean thinks. He walks back into the entryway, his steps heavy, slow, and he keeps
expecting to hear Cass voice calling him back. It never comes, and Dean changes into his jeans
and t-shirt with tears spilling down his cheeks. He hesitates at the door, slips the lounge pants into
his bag, and leaves without another word or look back.
The trip back to Bobbys passes in a haze of why did it go this way and Im such an idiot and this
is why you dont reach too high. When he gets to Bobbys, Dean throws the door open, too much
force it slams against the closet, and he goes straight to the kitchen and grabs the bottle of Jack
Daniels.
Hes halfway to the stairs when Bobbys voice calls from the living room. Youre back early.
Deans hand squeezes the neck of the bottle. Yep.
Want to come join us for the football game?
Dean should say no, but hes curious as to who us is. He takes a few steps towards the living
room until the couch and Benny come into view. Bennys gaze drops from Deans face to the
whiskey. You planning on using a glass for that?
Dean clutches the bottle to his chest and keeps his mouth shut.
Right, Benny says, and he and Bobby are wearing matching expressions of concern.
Alabamas winning. Why dont you come take a seat?
Dean wants to go up to Sams room and drink until he cant think, until he cant see, until he cant
feel. He wants to wake up and not remember tonight, and he wants to go to Cass and Cas will
pretend nothing happened, and everything will go back to normal. The way its supposed to be. I
was going to go upstairs.
Not with that youre not, Bobby says. How else am I supposed to celebrate Georgias
comeback?
Benny scoffs. Your little bulldogs are going to get their asses kicked. What you need is a
consolation shot.
Dean hesitates. He could run upstairs with the bottle, and he doubts they would chase him. He
could also run outside, maybe drive out somewhere where no one will be able to find him. The
last rational part of his brain tells him neither of those are a good idea. He should be around people
right now. Just, the only person he wants to be around wants nothing to do with him.

Dean sinks down on the couch and takes a long pull off the bottle. He has to resist the urge to flip
off both Bobby and Benny when they stare.
Rough night? Bobby asks.
Dean wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Got fired. And dumped. Dean takes another
swig. So yeah, not the best. But thats what you get when you fuck the boss. Or, you know,
develop actual feelings for him and are stupid enough to admit to it.
Dean sighs and goes to take another drink but Benny takes the bottle out of his hands and passes it
over to Bobby. Youre not the only one miserable here, he says and points to the screen.
Alabama caught an interception and ran it back for a touchdown, and theyre replaying it from
every angle they have. Bobby groans and takes a drink, smaller than Deans and keeps the bottle.
Cas? Bobby asks, keeping his eyes on the TV. He seemed like a decent guy.
Which explains why he wants nothing to do with Dean. Deans fine to fuck, but hes not worth a
long term investment. Hes a high school dropout trying to scrape up some kind of degree at a
community college. Cas has a PhD, and hes going to be a college professor. Not to mention, Cas
comes from TV royalty, and Deans dad is an alcoholic that walked out on the family. Dean cant
blame Cas for not wanting him.
Guess that makes it my fault. Which it is. Dean holds his hand out for the whiskey. Benny
hands him a pillow. Dean makes a face and drops it on the cushion next to him. Not what I
wanted.
I know.
Benny turns back to the game, and Dean thinks about getting up and taking the bottle from
Bobby. He thinks about going out to the bar and getting drunk and maybe even picking someone
up. Thats as far as he gets, thoughts, because moving seems like too much effort. Besides, here
with Benny and Bobby and a football game, Dean can almost forget what a disaster tonight was.
He can at least hold back his thoughts enough that hes not going to cry again. Fuck, that was
embarrassing. Hes a grown man. He shouldnt be crying over a relationship.
Georgia scores a touchdown, but Alabama comes back with a field goal, and Deans not sure
theres much hope for the bulldogs. Hes settled into the crook of the couch, pillow clutched to his
chest when his phone vibrates. Its probably a text from Sam, and Dean ignores it, because hes
not in the mood to hear about Jesss latest perfection. His phone keeps buzzing though, a phone
call not a text, and he reluctantly digs it out of his pocket.
Its Gabriel. Dean stares at his phone for a long moment before flipping it open. I dont want to
talk to you.
Then whyd you answer your phone?
Dean doesnt have a good answer for that one so he stays quiet. He does, however, push off the
couch, because if theyre going to have it out, he doesnt want it to happen in front of Benny and
Bobby. He waits until hes outside and leaning against the house to sigh and say, Hit me.
What?
Hit me, Dean repeats. Whatever you called to say, just say it. Dean doesnt care if he sounds
as defeated as he feels. Its not like hes going to have to see Gabriel ever again after this. He
doubts he wouldve even if Cas had been a regular client but seeing as hes Gabriels brother,
theres no way Deans going back to work there. Hell continue to work in the garage and

eventually hell get some kind of teaching job, and hell forget all about the Milton family.
Im trying to figure out whats going on, Gabriel says and he sounds exhausted.
What, am I supposed to put in my two weeks notice or something? Because I cant go back for
another two weeks. Not after, Dean swallows back the truth and presses the heel of his hand
against his eyes to stave off the tears.
After what?
It doesnt matter. Dean draws himself up, squares his shoulders. Hes not having this
conversation with Gabriel. Hes not going to admit his giant, inappropriate crush on Gabriels little
brother and how he got rejected.
It does. Cas is a wreck, and you dont sound too good yourself. So, what the hell happened?
Cas is a wreck? That doesnt make sense. Because he has to go look for someone new to fuck?
Fuck him.
Could we please go back to the beginning? What happened tonight? All Ive got is that you quit
and apparently youre both miserable about it.
Yeah? And who are you asking me as? My former employer or my clients brother?
Look, Gabriel says and theres an edge to his voice. Im asking as your employer because
apparently you quit tonight without reason or warning. Im asking as your friend, because you
sound like shit. And yes, Im asking you as Cass older brother, because he hasnt drunk dialed
me in tears since Samandriel.
Deans hand squeezes his phone so tight hes surprised it doesnt crumble into thousands of
pieces. Fuck you. This is nothing like Samandriel. He was pretending to care when he didnt.
And I, Dean cuts himself off again. This is nothing like that.
So you do care about him?
All Deans anger leaves him in a rush, leaving him feeling empty and defeated. Yeah, he says,
quiet now, subdued. A lot.
What exactly did you say to him?
Its too much effort to yell, and Deans already gone and admitted things he didnt want to admit
so might as well go all the way. I told him I didnt want to do it for money anymore.
Theres a long moment of silence, and Dean holds his breath, waiting for Gabriel to laugh or yell
at him or something. Instead, what comes is, And you dont think that could be taken the wrong
way?
Deans too tired for this shit. What are you talking about?
Im talking about how my brother is drunker than hes been in years, because he thinks the past
year has been a lie, and how youre a miserable sack of shit for what appears to be the same
reason. Im talking about how you two should probably learn how to communicate better, because
youre both idiots.
Dean feels a bit of hope leap in his chest and he stomps it down. Im not in the mood for this.

This isnt how I get my kicks, believe me. You need to talk to him. He thought you were quitting
and never wanted to see him again.
No, I was saying I didnt want him to pay me to see him anymore. I wanted to see him, because I
wanted to see him.
Gabriel huffs out an impatient breath. I know that. He doesnt know that. Go see him. Explain it
to him. In small words and clear sentences. Nurse him through his hangover tomorrow morning
and explain it again.
Dean wants to believe it. He wants to believe it so bad. What if
Trust me, Gabriel says. Please. At the very least make sure he doesnt start choking on his own
vomit. He was doing shots while he was talking to me, and hes not a heavy drinker. Hes going
to be a mess.
Dean should say no. He should hang up, delete Gabriel and Cass numbers from his phone, and
he should go back to living his life. But the thought that Cas might need someone right now, that
Cas might actually want him is enough to get him moving.
Fine. You better not be lying.
Thank you, Gabriel says and the sheer relief in his voice makes Dean think maybe hes telling
the truth. And keep me updated? If hes in really bad shape Ill come over.
I know how to deal with someone whos had too much to drink, Dean says, and he gives
Bobby and Benny a little wave and jangles his keys so they know hes leaving. Bobby frowns but
Dean heads out before they can say anything.
He hangs up with Gabriel and speeds to Cass apartment, and he has to parallel park out on the
street and if anyone dings up his baby hes going to be pissed. He takes the stairs by two, and he
knocks on Cass door and goes in when theres no answer.
He pauses in the entryway, because the usually immaculate apartment is a mess. There are kitchen
utensils scattered across the floor, and the baking trays and cooling racks look like theyve been
thrown around the kitchen, and the couch has been completely taken apart; cushions and pillows
and blankets strewn across the living room floor.
Cas is sitting on one of the cushions, bottle of tequila clutched in one hand, Deans collar in the
other. Hes bleary eyed and squints at Dean. The fuck are you doing here?
Tequila? Dean asks, prying the bottle out of Cass hand. You have terrible taste. And youre
going to be hurting tomorrow. He carefully doesnt look at the collar, doesnt read into the fact
that Cas is clinging to it. Gabriel could be wrong, he tells himself. Dont hope. Dont hope.
Better than hurting now. Cas sighs and sways and Dean reaches a hand out to ground him.
Dont get why youre here. You left.
You told me to, Dean snaps back and then he takes a deep breath, because Cas is way too
drunk to be having this conversation. Tomorrow they can hash out what the hell is going on.
Right now, Dean needs to get some water in Cas and get him into bed. Can you stand?
Cas tips over and sprawls out across the floor.
Right, Dean says. Guess that answers that. Im going to get you a glass of water. Dont go
anywhere.

Cas groans which Dean takes as agreement. He shouldnt have come here, he thinks heading into
the kitchen. Cas is helpless right now, and all Deans instincts are screaming at him to take care of
him, and these arent the kinds of feelings he wants. Hes supposed to be putting distance between
them, not coaxing Cas to drink some water and tucking him into bed. Thats what older brothers
and friends are for. Deans not either of those.
He comes back with a glass of water and tries to pull Cas into a sitting position, but Cas is all
liquid limbs and he keeps sliding back down to the floor and trying to roll away. Deans not in the
mood for this. Hes physically and emotionally exhausted. All he wants is to put Cas to bed so he
can make up the couch and crash for a few hours and escape this. Hes not looking forward to the
fact that hes going to have to wake up tomorrow and deal with it, but hell handle that when it
comes.
Water, Dean says, and he manages to get Cas propped up between Deans body and the couch.
He holds the glass up to Cass lips and gets him to take a small sip.
I used to do this for you, Cas says. Not when you were hung over. I miss you. Is that possible?
Can I already miss you or do I have to wait a few days?
Dean tips some more water down Cass throat so he doesnt have to listen to him talk. Tomorrow,
he tells himself. No more thinking about this until tomorrow. Cas starts coughing the water back
up so Dean gives up. They can work on rehydrating tomorrow. Everything can be put off until
tomorrow.
Dean hauls Cas to his feet and half-drags half-carries him back to the bedroom. Cas, who has
barely been participating, tries to cling to Dean and pull him down to the bed. Dean slips out of
Cass grasp and Cas flops down on the bed.
Stay, Cas mumbles.
Too much too soon. I cant.
He steels himself for a fight, and hes not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Cas
wraps his arms around a pillow and doesnt say anything else.
Try to sleep, Dean says, Cause your head is going to kill you tomorrow. He turns the light off
on the way out and goes to the living room and fixes the couch cushions and scoops up the
blanket and hunkers down for what promises to be a restless sleep.

Chapter 33
Dean wakes up to the sound of Cas puking. He gets up to investigate, pleased to see that Cas
made it to the toilet at least, because no way is Dean going to clean up vomit this morning. Cas is
slumped over the toilet bowl, and he makes a pitiful sound before he throws up again, like even
thats too much movement.
Dean backs away before hes seen, and he shoots off a quick text to Gabriel before he starts
picking up. He thinks about making breakfast, something rich and greasy just to mess with Cass
stomach, but hes not that cruel.
Now that hes awake, though, he wants answers. He didnt sleep well last night, imagining every
possible way this morning could go from Cas calling the police to Cas telling him theres been
some sort of misunderstanding. His heart is pounding. Hes nervous. He wants to gather up every
trace that hes been here and flee. He wants to rush into the bathroom and demand answers.
He doesnt do either. He straightens up the living room and starts carting kitchen items back to the
kitchen. He puts them back where they belong and ignores the stab of pain at how familiar this
kitchen is to him. This apartment has become his home over the past year. He knows where
everything is, hes navigated this kitchen countless evenings, making old recipes, trying new ones,
and he doesnt want to leave.
His hands tremble on the measuring cup drawer. He doesnt want this to end. He didnt have
much time to think last night when it was happening. Last night was a blur of one emotion into
another; blind panic and feeling, but now that hes back here and a bit more clear headed he
realizes that he doesnt want to give this up.
Shit, he says and he barely resist the urge to bang his head against the counter. Shit. Shit. Shit!
Dean?
Dean startles and he spins around, but his hand is still caught up in the drawer handle and his
fingers twist painfully. Cas is in the kitchen, leaning against the wall, and his face is a pale white
which emphasizes the dark circles under his eyes. His button-up is half-undone and falling off one
shoulder, and its a wrinkled mess. This is the most disheveled Dean has ever seen Cas, and he
doesnt like it. It makes him almost physically uncomfortable. He wants to smooth out the
wrinkles, button up the shirt until its his Cas hes looking at.
I thought I dreamed you, Cas says and then his mind catches up to his mouth and he looks
away.
You should sit down, Dean says, because hes afraid Cas is going to pass out. Ill get you
some water. Maybe a slice of toast.
Stop, Cas says, but Dean moves about the kitchen, desperate for something to occupy himself
with. Stop! Dean freezes, flicks his eyes over to Cas. Cas takes a deep breath and a runs a hand
down his face. What are you doing here?
Gabriel was worried about you. Dean grabs a glass from the cabinet by the sink.
Clearly, Im fine. Cas sways a little and has to grab onto the counter for support. I dont need
your pity.
Yeah, well, it wasnt exactly my idea to come back here. Dean fills the glass with water from

Yeah, well, it wasnt exactly my idea to come back here. Dean fills the glass with water from
the fridge and slams it down on the counter in front of Cas.
So why are you?
Because Im pathetic? Because Im desperate? Because Im holding out hope that maybe there
was some kind of miscommunication? Gabriel seems to think I didnt make myself clear.
Cas scoffs and pulls the water closer to him though he doesnt pick it up or take a drink. I think
you made yourself very clear. You said you didnt want to be here and you left. Of course, you
came back so now Im getting a bit of a mixed message.
Didnt want to be here? Where the hell had Cas got that from? I said I didnt want to be paid to
be here. I never said I didnt want to be here.
Cass mouth opens, but no sounds comes out. He shuts his mouth, opens it, tries again. Still
nothing. He drops his head to his hands and finally manages a weak, What?
I said, I didnt want to do this for money anymore, and you told me to get out. So I did. And then
Gabriel calls me and starts bitching about how youre drinking yourself into a stupor, and how I
need to come talk to you. So, I came. You were a mess as promised. But
Cass hand grabs Deans wrist in a loose hold. His eyes are wild, desperate, and Dean thinks if
Cas had any more strength in him hed be pressing bruises into Deans skin. You dont want to
stop?
No. Its a broken admission, and Cas holds him tighter.
I thought, Cas trails off, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, theres a film of tears and
a distant hope. I dont want to stop either.
Dean sags against the counter. Its what he was wanting to hear, what he was hoping to hear, but
now that Cas has said it, hes afraid this is some kind of dream. Or worse, a trick. Cas slides his
hand down until their fingers twine together.
Im going to shower and clean myself up. Promise me youll still be here.
Promise.
Cas squeezes his hand and gingerly pushes off the counter and walks back to the bedroom. Dean
makes himself some toast and then he goes to the bedroom as well. The bathroom door is open,
and he can see Cass silhouette through the frosted glass. Cas is still standing which is a good sign,
and Deans glad he decided to shower. Sweat and vomit isnt a good smell on anyone.
Dean changes out of his day old clothes and into a pair of Cass sweatpants and a worn t-shirt,
because he wants to be comfortable, but hes still feeling too raw to be naked. He climbs into the
bed and wraps his arms around a pillow and wishes it was that easy for his mind to wrap around
whats going on. Hes still reeling from Cass rejection and now hes trying to understand that it
wasnt really a rejection, and its too much too soon.
The shower turns off, and when he drags his eyes up, Cas is standing in the doorway of the
bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, longing written clearly across his face. He smiles
when he notices Dean looking, and its soft and fond around the edges.
This is what I want, Cas says. You, here, with me, forever.
Forever is a long time, but Dean remembers how panicked hed been at the thought of never

having this again. He pulls the covers back in invitation.

Were going to have to talk about this, Cas says as he goes to the dresser to pull on a pair of
sweatpants.
Not now, Dean says. Hes too emotionally wrung out to have any kind of actual conversation.
No, Cas agrees. Not now. Right now, I want to hold you and sleep the entire day away.
Dean smiles. I like that plan.
Cas tugs on a t-shirt and then climbs into bed with Dean. They face each other, their legs tangled
together and holding hands in the space between them. Dean doesnt want to close his eyes,
because he doesnt want to miss another moment of Cass face.
Dean has the benefit of not being hung over, and he watches as Cass eyelids droop, as his blinks
last longer and longer until his eyes stop opening. He watches as Cass breathing evens out, as his
shoulders relax, as his lips curve up into the barest hint of a smile.
Deans scared of how much he wants this, and hes scared at how much of a mess he was when
he thought he lost it. It makes him want to believe in things like forever, because he cant imagine
a life where they arent together anymore. And for now, he doesnt have to. He pulls the covers
up over them and falls asleep to dreams of them living together. Of rushed breakfasts in the
morning, because Dean has to get to school to teach and Cas has to rush to college to do his own
teaching. Of lunch time phone calls to see how each others days are going. Of lazy evenings
watching the news together. Of weekends where they get to relax and have a little fun. Of the
days Dean cant sit at his desk because his ass is too sore.
Dean uses his free hand to brush the hair out of Cass face and he brushes his lips across his
forehead. There are a lot of uncertainties in his life, a lot of maybes, but if theres anything this has
taught him, its that sometimes, its okay to hope.
***
Dean doesnt want to leave Cass ever again in his life, but Cas points out that all of Deans things
are still at Bobbys and that Bobbys probably worried about him and that they cant burrow under
Cass covers for the rest of their lives. Still, Dean manages to convince Cas to burrow for at least a
little longer.
When Dean finally heads back to Bobbys, hes buoyed with the knowledge that hell see Cas
again soon. They need to sit down and have a talk about what happens now, and Deans a little
worried about it, but not too worried, because being together is something they both want. Its a
question of when and how often and if the collar is going to be a permanent thing or a Cass
apartment thing or a scene thing.
Deans pretty sure theyre going to be talking about whether Deans going to move in or not, and
he thinks that before Cas hed turn tail and run if he was in a relationship and someone mentioned
moving in. But Dean feels comfortable in Cass apartment in a way he doesnt at Bobbys. The
kitchen, the couch, even the bed feel as much of Deans as they do Cass. Bobbys feels like
Bobbys and even Deans room is more like Sams room than Sam and Deans room. Maybe
Deans an idiot for wanting to move in so soon after thinking it was all over, but he wants to. He
wants to make the apartment theirs. He wants to weave enough of himself through the rooms that
Cas wont be able to get rid of him.
Bobbys at the kitchen sink rinsing out a bowl when Dean comes back, and he raises his

eyebrows at the smile on Deans face. Guess that means you two worked it out?
Dean ducks his head, embarrassed at the reminder of last night and how he behaved.
Everythings good.
Yeah? Bobby sounds suspicious.
Yeah. Uh, so good, actually, Dean rubs the back of his neck. I might be moving in?
Bobbys eyes narrow. Absolutely not.
Excuse me? Dean isnt a kid, and he doesnt actually need Bobbys permission to move in with
Cas. He just thought hed give Bobby a heads up so he didnt look around one day and wonder
where Dean had gone.
You seem to have forgotten last night, but I havent. Bobby crosses his arms over his chest.
Hes going to come over again, and were going to have a chat and then you can bring up
moving in with him again.
Bobby!
Bobbys expression doesnt give an inch. I need to make sure he doesnt intend on making you
that miserable again. You were a sorry sight, boy.
Not a boy, Dean grumbles, and he heads upstairs to start packing his non-essentials.
***
Bobbys decided to put Cas through some kind of inquisition, and the worst part is that Cas agrees
that he should be subjected to it. Apparently Gabriels had enough time to decide that Deans
good for Cas, but Cas doesnt think Deans friends and family have had the same luxury. So not
only is Cas coming to talk to Bobby again, but Bobbys invited a crew of people Dean knows.
Charlies going to be there and Bobby and Benny and for some reason Ellen and Jo are going to
be there too. Deans pretty sure Bobby called them up laughing, and theyre here as some kind of
cruel joke.
At least Sam isnt here.
Dean paces through Sams room, fidgeting over what the hell hes supposed to wear to this kind
of thing. Theyre keeping it in the house so its not like he has to get dressed up, but maybe if he
makes it look like Cas is a good influence on him then theyll like him better?
Deans staring at three separate pairs of jeans, and five different options for tops, and hes one step
away from ripping his hair out. Hes staring down a flannel and a t-shirt and a light weight sweater
and a button down and the long sleeve Stanford shirt Sam had sent him when theres a knock at
his door.
He startles and stutters out a, Come in.
Charlie pokes her head in, grinning when she spots the clothes laid out on the bed. Bobby said he
hadnt seen you in forty five minutes and that I better make sure you were still alive.
Dean shoves his hands into the pockets of the jeans hes wearing. Theyre old and faded, worn
white in some places, worn completely through in others. Am I really needed for tonight?
Im sure you have zero chance of saving him from interrogation, but Im also sure Cas would

appreciate the moral support. Or, you know, having someone pretty to look at. She smirks as
Deans face heats up.
Why did I ever think you were a good person to talk to?
Charlie laughs and comes closer to inspect what he has on the bed. Its just a bit of fun. Besides,
who would you confess your kinky secrets to if I wasnt around? She picks the t-shirt up off the
bed. Here, put this on.
Its a bit casual, dont you think? Dean asks but hes already stripping off the undershirt he put
on after his shower.
This isnt a job interview. Its a small family gathering.
Its torture.
Like I said, family gathering. Charlie laughs again. Come on, Cas is going to be here soon, and
youll want a chance to kiss him before he spends the rest of the night answering way too personal
and probably inappropriate questions.
Dean groans at the reminder. What pants should I wear?
Its a sign of how desperate he sounds that Charlie doesnt laugh at him. The ones youre
wearing are fine.
They have holes in them.
And anyone here tonight will care about that? Stop trying so hard or theyre going to be
suspicious. Cas is a good guy, and he clearly makes you happy. Everythings going to be fine.
Dean follows Charlie downstairs, but he doesnt relax until Cas shows up. Hes out of his seat the
second the doorbell rings, and he ignores Jos tittering laughter and Bobbys eye roll. Its worth it
if he gets a moment with Cas alone, away from prying eyes.
Cas is in a white button up and an argyle sweater vest, and Dean would laugh or say something
about it, but Cass hair is windblown and his cheeks are red, and he looks like he rushed to get
over here.
Everything alright? Dean asks stepping aside so Cas can come in.
I had a meeting with my thesis advisor. I told him I had an appointment tonight I couldnt be late
for so of course it ran over.
Its fine, Dean says and its weird saying it since hes spent the past two hours panicking, but
Cas has a way of settling him, of making him believe that yes, everythings going to be alright.
It is now. Cas slips his hands through Deans hair and pulls him forward for a brief kiss.
Youve got two minutes before Im showing up with a camera! Jo shouts, ruining the moment.
Cas huffs out a laugh against Deans lips and kisses him once more before pulling back. Guess
its time?
Unfortunately. Dean reaches down to grasp Cass hand, and they walk into the living room to
greet the interrogation squad.
Everyone moved around while Dean was gone, because theres no longer two spaces next to each

Everyone moved around while Dean was gone, because theres no longer two spaces next to each
other on the couch. Jos sprawled across two cushions with her mother on the third, and Bobbys
in his chair, and Benny and Charlie are on the two person couch which means theres one arm
chair left, and someones dragged a fold out chair from the card table out of nowhere.
Really? Dean asks, looking at it. Its metal and has minimal padding, and he was joking about
the whole interrogation thing but maybe he wasnt so far off.
Jo beams, and Dean instantly knows its a test, and he wishes they wouldnt play mind games
with Cas. He kind of wants Cas to stick around and not, you know, not get scared off by his
family.
They have to pass by the folding chair to get to the arm chair, and Dean stops in front of it, and
Cas gives him a look. Youre not sitting there.
Youre a guest, Dean says. Youre not sitting there either.
And then Cas grins and gives Deans wrist a tug and the next think he knows, Cas is sinking
down into the arm chair and pulling Dean with him. Cas is sitting facing forward, and Deans
sideways across his lap, legs hanging over the arm rest.
You have got to be kidding me, Dean says because everyone will expect some kind of protest
from him, but when Cass arm slides around his waist Dean leans into the touch.
Cas grin and lays a brief kiss against Deans neck before meeting Jos gaze. You said something
about a camera?
Theres a moment of silence and then Charlie bursts out laughing. Jo quickly follows, and Dean
finds himself relaxing. Maybe this wont be so bad after all.
Theres something you all should know about me, Cas says as the laughter dies down, and
Dean goes straight back into panic mode. Cass hand slips under his shirt, fingers tracing over
Deans skin to soothe him. My name is Castiel Milton. He looks to see if theres any
recognition, and he smiles when Ellens eyebrows go up. You probably know my brothers
Michael and Lucifer better than me. Im nothing like either of them. Also, I recently quit my job.
Charlie is glaring at Dean like hes gravely betrayed her by not telling her this detail sooner. Jo
looks mildly impressed and Ellen looks too thoughtful for Dean to feel entirely comfortable.
Is that supposed to mean something to me? Bobby asks, grumpy, because he realizes that hes
out of the loop on this one. Even Benny seems to have an idea of who Cas is.
Youre an ignorant idiot so no, Ellen says. Michael Milton is the owner of the Angel
Network.
Oh. Bobby doesnt know whether to glare at Ellen or Cas so he settles on Dean. Family
business?
Kind of. Cas shrugs. Im not a part of it anymore. Im getting my PhD and then Im going to
be an Art History professor.
Art history? Jo makes a face. All your cool points are lost.
Art is very cool, Cas says, and Dean recognizes that hes working himself up into debate mode,
and he quickly slides off Cass lap.
I better get some food for this.

Ill help, Ellen says. I brought pie with me.

Pie? Dean hopes his voice doesnt squeak as much as he thinks it does.
Dean cant have pie, Benny says. Hes dieting. He looks over at Cas, contemplative and a
touch suspicious.
Dieting? Cas asks, and Benny relaxes at the surprise in Cass tone. Youre dieting?
Dean drops his eyes to his shoes even though he knows it wont hide the way his face is heating
up.
Oh, Charlie says and Dean flushes even redder. She laughs a little. Diet looks good on you.
Dean flees to the kitchen before he dies of embarrassment. Ellen is waiting for him at the counter,
stack of plates in her hands.
Youre dieting? she asks clearly disapproving.
I was eating too much pie. Thought it would be good to cut back a bit. Dean grabs a handful of
forks so he doesnt have to meet her eyes.
Uh huh. She clearly suspects that somethings going on but thankfully she doesnt press it. If
you dont want to talk about that then lets talk about your friend out there. Her eyes narrow at
the word friend, and Dean wonders if its too late to run away.
Ellen, he starts but she shakes her head.
You miraculously find the money to send Sam to Stanford and your boyfriend is part of the
Angel Network Empire? Thats a hell of a coincidence.
Deans stomach twists, and hes afraid hes going to be sick. I thought you agreed to stop asking
questions.
That was before you decided to move out. Do you have any idea what youre doing?
He does and thats what gives him the courage to stand tall and meet Ellens eyes. Im going to
school. Im going to get my degree and work as a teachers aide while I get my masters and then
Im going to be a proper teacher with my own classroom. In the more immediate future, Im
moving in with my boyfriend.
Dean,
He shakes his head and interrupts her. Im helping Sam with undergrad, but hes on his own for
law school. I know what Im doing, Ellen. Neither of us are the same people we were when we
first met. And I, Dean pauses, swallows down the words that rise up, I wouldnt be moving in
with him if I didnt want to.
Ellen frowns like she doesnt completely believe it, but she thrusts the pie at him. Were here if
you ever need us. Now go take that out before Bobby starts bitching about how long its taking.
Dean nods, grateful, and he leans in to press a quick kiss to her cheek before running into the
living room.
Youre a coward! Ellen calls after him, but he can hear the happiness in her voice.

Do I want to know? Jo asks.

Dean shakes his head and mouths, Your mothers terrifying.
Truer words have never been spoken.
Dean grins and puts the pie down on the coffee table. When Ellen brings him the pie server, he
cuts a piece for everyone but himself. He cuts Cass a little bigger just in case, and theres a flutter
of anticipation as he returns to his seat. Theres also a gripping moment of I cant believe Im
doing this but then he settles himself on Cass lap and offers up the pie.
Ellen makes a great pie, Dean says. Blackberry is one of her best.
Stop it, Ellen says but she grins, satisfied, as she sits back with her slice.
Theres a bit of quiet as everyone starts eating, except for Cass praise and Charlies indecent
sound at her first bite and Bennys low rumble of a laugh as Charlies face turns scarlet. Dean
almost forgets that theres pie in front of him and then Cas nudges his arm and looks down at the
plate. Theres a forkful of pie resting there, and Deans eyes flick up, double check for permission,
and then he grins and picks up the fork.
They chat for a while. Jo wants to know spoilers for the procedural cop show shes obsessed with,
and she flips Dean off when he tells her the two leads are in fact going to give into their sexual
tension to absolutely no ones surprise. Ellen wants to what Cass thesis is on. Benny tries to show
polite interest when Cas mentions the Flemish Renaissance. And Charlie doesnt even bother to
hide her smirk every time Cas cuts a forkful of pie and leaves it on the plate for Dean to eat.
The evening isnt as bad as Dean thought it would be, but it wasnt as painless as hed like. And at
the end of it, after Charlie and Benny have left and its the rest of them in the kitchen, it gets
worse.
You should call Sam, Ellen says.
What? Dean asks, heart beating with panic. Cas squeezes his thigh, but its not as reassuring as
it normally would be. Wasnt the point of tonights powwow to prove that Cas isnt a
heartbreaking bastard and that Dean can move in with him? Sam doesnt need to be dragged into
this.
Skype, Jo says. You should Skype him. Video is key.
I dont want to. Dean doesnt care that he sounds like a petulant three year old. Tonight has
worn him out. He wants to move all his stuff out tonight, and he wants to go back to their
apartmenttheir apartment!and collapse on their bed.
Californias three hours behind, Jo adds, unhelpful. So you dont have to worry about waking
him up or anything. Hes your brother. He should know if youre going to move out.
He doesnt even know that Dean and Cas are dating, but Dean figures now isnt a good time to
mention that. Instead, he sighs and turns to Cas. You up for one more round of dealing with my
family?
Of course. Cas turns to Jo and Ellen. It was a pleasure to meet you. Im sure Ill be seeing you
again.
Pleasure, Ellen says. Remember that I own a shotgun.

Dean rolls his eyes and drags Cas upstairs before hes tempted to strangle someone. It isnt until
theyre in Sams room that Dean realizes hes trembling.
Its almost over, Cas says, stroking up and down Deans arms. Sams not going to freak out.
You dont know that.
Hes your brother, and he loves you.
Dean sighs, not quite pacified, but he turns his computer on, because he wants to get this over
with. The sooner he introduces Sam and Cas, the sooner they can get back to Cass and they can
climb into bed and cuddle. Dean wants to be held tonight. He wants to be held and petted and
kissed, and he presses back into Cas as he thinks about it.
I know, Cas says and he kisses the back of Deans neck.
Sam happens to be on Skype, and it doesnt take long for Sam to answer the call, and then his face
is popping up on Deans computer screen. And his eyebrows pull together in a frown as he looks
past Dean at Cas.
Sam, this is my boyfriend, Cas, Dean says. Yes, hes a guy. Yes, hes a Milton and somewhat
famous. Stop gaping and give us your blessing or whatever so I can move in with him.
Deans speech doesnt quite have the desired effect. Sams jaw drops even further. What?
Dean sighs.
No, wait. What?
Its going to be a long night. Dean settles himself more comfortably against Cas and wonders if
Sam will notice if Dean takes a little nap.

Chapter 34
Chapter Notes

I'm not supposed to be typing, but I wanted to say something so I'll do my best to
keep this short. Today marks the end of my seven month long journey with this story.
The last two months? (eleven weeks) you've all been there with me, and I just want to
say thank you for reading and for commenting/chatting with me. I cannot put into
words how incredible this whole process has been for me or how grateful I am for the
people I've met through this story. So, I hope you enjoyed reading even a fraction as
much as I enjoyed writing this. And I apologize that I haven't answered comments,
but, again, I've overused my forearm muscles so I'm supposed to be staying off my
computer. I am reading them all and once I can I'll go through and reply.

They dont say Dean has to aide in one of the summer school classes in order to be hired on for
the full-time aide position in the fall, but hes strongly encouraged to, and Dean doesnt see a
problem with getting a few months of work in. He and Cas arent hurting for money, because Cas
has a substantial savings account, but Dean doesnt feel comfortable living off Cass money.
Plus, he needs something to do with his time. His hours at the garage have been steadily declining
until theyre non-existent, and Cas spends most of his days working on his thesis. So Deans
working at summer school.
Its a rough first job. Dean spends his days trapped in a too-warm classroom with several kids that
hate school and are not happy that they have to be there during the summer. Not only would they
rather be outside playing or inside with their video games, school is hard for them for a variety of
reasons. The last thing they want is to be forced into more school.
Dean is drop dead exhausted the first two weeks. Cas takes to ordering takeout from a variety of
places for dinner, and Dean feels a bit of guilt that he isnt cooking, but it isnt strong enough to
give him the energy to cook.
By week three, Deans falling into a routine. He isnt as overwhelmed by the multitude of
behavioral problems, and the kids are beginning to understand that theyre trapped in summer
school whether they like it or not. Some of them are resigned to their fate and become more
manageable. Some throw total fits. Others throw chairs.
Deans only had to use his restraint training twice. Mostly his job is to monitor a fifth grader with
anger management difficulties. School, math especially, is a challenge for him, and he gets
frustrated when he doesnt get an immediate answer or when he gets an answer wrong, and
Deans there to help him handle the feelings that spring up. Sometimes that means talking him
through the problem. Sometimes it means reminding him to close his eyes and count to ten.
Sometimes it means following him at a distance when he runs off to work off some of his
aggression.
Dean comes home with a bag of groceries, and he toes off his shoes before heading into the main
part of the apartment. Cas, as usual, has taken over the living room. His books and papers are
spread all across the floor (the table is nowhere near big enough to accommodate all Cass work)
and Cas himself is on his stomach, going from scribbled note to scribbled note as he tries to piece

together whatever argument hes currently making.

He turns and spots Dean over his shoulder, and hes immediately on his feet, research forgotten.
You look way too happy to see me, Dean says. Its the chicken isnt it? You can smell it from
the other side of the room.
Deans easing himself back into cooking which means he picked up a rotisserie chicken from the
grocery store. It does smell delicious, and Deans mouth watered the whole ride home from the
store.
The chicken is a bonus, Cas says. He takes the bag from Dean and leans in for a kiss.
Flatterer, Dean says, but he blushes all the same. Good day?
Finished up a section. Trying to organize my thoughts for the next. If I ever write another long
paper Im going to take my notes much more efficiently.
Dean laughs and steals the grocery bag back so he can takes things out and start getting dinner
ready. Hes starving. Who knew full time work took so much out of you? It doesnt help that his
lunch is also spent with his buddyGarrettand if Garrett has a tough time at lunch then Dean
often doesnt get to eat his whole lunch.
What about your day? Cas presses up against Deans back, lays kisses against Deans neck.
Dean smiles then turns so he can catch Cass lips with his own. It was good. He steps away
even though he doesnt want to, because he needs to get dinner cooked, and Cas is incredibly
distracting.
Cas follows him and kisses Dean again. His hands drop to Deans waist, tug the dress shirt out of
Deans khakis. Thats the one real complaint Dean has about his job. He doesnt mind working
with the kids even though its difficult. He minds that he has to chase after (a very quick) eleven
year old while in business casual.
But Cas seems determined to get Dean out of his clothes, and usually Dean would be completely
on board with this plan. But Dean has priorities. And food is number one.
Youre in a mood today, Dean says. He twists out if Cass hold and gives him a stern look like
that will keep Cas in place.
I havent seen you all day, Cas says. He stays where he is, but he lets his eyes burn through
Deans clothes. His gaze is heavy, just as intense as wandering hands, and Dean tries to ignore his
stirring arousal. He has noticed that Cas has gotten more affectionate. Deans not sure if its a
product of their relationship being a genuine relationship now or whether its that Deans gone all
day and Cas is stuck with books and papers and an aging laptop, but Cas has difficulty keeping
his hands off Dean these days.
Not that Dean minds. Hes fully in favor of anything that gives him more of Cas but thats for after
dinner.
Well, now youre seeing me.
Definitely am, Cas agrees and he smirks like he knows hes getting under Deans skin. Like
hes ever had trouble doing that. Dean sets the oven to 350 and puts the chicken in to stay warm
while he cooks the green beans and the potatoes. He keeps his back to Cas and resolves to ignore
the tingle on the back of his neck that tells him Cas is still staring.

Youre very distracting, Dean says.

Im very distracting? Youre the one all disheveled and domestic and off-limits.
Dean doesnt bother to check his smile, because Cas wont be able to see it. How about this? If
you let me make and eat dinner undisturbed then I will be all yours once were done. Dean turns
around now so Cas can see that hes not joking around anymore.
All mine? Cas shifts into something calculating, the way he does whenever he and Dean
negotiate these days. Its the kind of expression that makes Deans stomach dip. Its the kind of
expression that always makes Dean feel like hes walking into a trap, but its a trap that he
inevitably ends up enjoying. He enjoys the spike in his heart rate, the way his body comes to full
attention at Cass look, and Dean has to fight his smile. Its not fun when he gives in right away.
Dean shrugs, going for casual. I dont have any plans for the night.
Cas ignores the flip comment. Thats it? Blank check? We finish dinner, I buckle your collar on,
and I get whatever I want?
Theyve been working on Deans negotiating skills, but most nights Dean leaves the decisions up
to Cas. He trusts that Cas will give him what he wants and any teasing along the way is worth it
when Deans an exhausted, blissed out mess on the bed. Or couch. Or playroom floor.
I want to touch you, Dean says, because thats something hes been deprived of all day. I want
my hands on you. At some point my mouth would be nice. But other than that? Whatever you
want.
The sheer want in Cass eyes almost makes Dean forgo his dinner plans. But then he reminds
himself that nothing kills the mood like passing out in the middle (unless thats Cass intention
which has happened once or twice).
Whatever I want, Cas repeats like he still cant believe it. Im going to go think about what it is
I want. Enjoy making dinner. Cas gives Dean a little smile and, once hes sure he has Deans full
attention, walks purposefully back to the playroom.
***
Things have been hectic the past few weeks. Deans summer school came to a close which meant
he had to start preparing for the regular school year, and hes nervous all over again. It doesnt
matter that he handled a summer class thats probably going to be more challenging than anything
he has to deal with this year. It doesnt matter that by the end of it he was starting to feel confident.
September 1st marks something new, and Deans nervous.
Hes nervous for other reasons too.
Hes been building up the courage to do this all week. It shouldnt be a big deal. In his head, he
knows it isnt. It doesnt stop the pit-patter in his heart, the brief skip between beats that has his
breath coming too fast for a moment.
Dean resists the urge to fidget or to pull his shirt down or anything like that. His gaze darts to the
living room. Cas is in the process of finishing up his work for the day. Dean heads back to the
bedroom to get his collar.
He doesnt wear it all the time even though he lives here now. Its taken them a while to find a

balance, to find the kind of relationship that works best for them. Dean and Cas are always
together, theyre always Dean and Cas but Dean isnt always Cass sub. The collar helps
differentiate between down time and play time.
If Cas offers the collar or Dean retrieves it then its a sign that one of them is in the mood for
something. Sometimes the other takes them up on it. Sometimes they dont. On the weekends,
when they have more time, they tend to sit down and plan out scenes, determine the time frames
that will work for play. Sometimes, Dean will give Cas a list of things hes interested in a week or
even a month in advance and mark which ones hes okay being surprised with. Sometimes, Dean
wants to be caught off guard, but he has to balance that with Cass need to make sure everything
has been talked out.
Dean strips off his shirt and pulls off his socks and he tosses them into the laundry hamper. Its
starting to get full. Deans going to have to remind Cas to do laundry before the week is over.
He leaves his jeans on and buckles his collar before going back out to the living room. Cass work
is in a neat pile on the desk that he uses as storage rather than as a place to do work. Cas is on the
couch, one leg propped up on the cushions, the other on the ground.
His eyebrows go up when he sees Dean still in his jeans. If you wanted a spanking you couldve
just asked.
That isnt why Deans doing this but now that Cas has brought it up.Wait. First, Dean has to get
through this. Maybe I wanted you to help me. He tries for confident, but his voice wavers, and
his stomach clenches and maybe he should run back to the safety of their room before its too late.
Cas must see the blind panic on Deans face, because he motions Dean forward. Come here.
The clear command soothes Deans mind, and his feet move before he even thinks about it. The
next thing he knows, hes standing between Cass legs. Hes trembling slightly, and when Cass
fingers reach for the button on Deans jeans, Deans eyes dart to Cass.
He feels the tug on the waistband as Cas pushes the button through the hole. He can feel the drag
of the zipper. He watches Cass eyes as Cas realizes what Deans wearing underneath his jeans.
The zipper is only partway down which means Cas only has a small glimpse of teal, but his eyes
immediately meet Deans.
Dean?
Deans hands stop trembling long enough for Dean to unzip his jeans the rest of the way and
shove them down. Hes in a pair of simple cotton underwear. Its not a fancy material and there
arent any trimmings or anything. Plain except for the color. Dean figured hed start out slow. Its
been years since he stood in front of Rhonda Hurley in pink panties. Its been years since he
bought a few pairs for himself and wore them out. Its been less time since Alastair found him,
since Dean escaped and swore never to wear them again.
Cass hands fan over the fabric, almost reverent in their touch. Dean, Cas breathes, and he
doesnt get past that, his thoughts tangling up in his head.
Dean understands. His heads a jumbled mess now. Theres so much to say. So many things
happening right now, but Dean cant find the right words. And maybe he doesnt need to. The
look in Cass eyes, the way his hands curve around Deans waist, drawing him in, those all speak
to Cas understanding. Sometimes words arent needed.
***

Finally, its Cass turn to have a first day of school. Cas didnt sleep well last night but since Dean
was off for a whole week leading up to his first day, hes not in any position to judge. Not that he
wouldve anyways. Last night, hed pulled Cas closer to him and held him until Cas fell back
asleep. And now that its morning, Deans up and making a real breakfast. Nothing starts the day
better than eggs, pancakes, and bacon.
Deans pushing the eggs around the pan when Cas comes out of their bedroom in a full suit. Cas
smooths out his navy blue tie and holds his hands out as if to say how do I look?
Like a business executive, Dean says with a chuckle, and sets the spatula down before going
over to Cas. Youre a professor now, remember? He strips off Cass jacket and rolls up his shirt
sleeves and loosens the tie enough to slip it over Cass head and put it on backwards. An art
history professor at that. Youre supposed to look a little eccentric.
Dean steps back to admire his handiwork. Cas is approachable now, someone you can go up and
talk to without expecting to be bored out of your skull.
Im not wearing my tie backwards, Cas says. He sounds a mixture of fond and amused.
Fine. But youre missing something. Dean taps his bottom lip as he studies Cas, trying to figure
out what it is.
My suit jacket?
No way. Dean scoops it up before Cas can make any plans to put it back on. He carries it back
to the bedroom to hang it up, and its when hes in the closet that he spots the trench coat. Perfect.
Dean grabs it and heads back to the kitchen where Cas is now at the stove, keeping an eye on the
pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
That? Cas asks. His nose crinkles in disdain, but theres something in his eyes, in the way he
subconsciously reaches for it that makes Dean smile.
Dean shakes out the jacket and holds it up. You need a trademark look, something your students
will remember you for.
Cas slips his hands through the sleeves. And you think this is it? Cas turns around, a small
frown on his face. The jacket is a touch too big, but he seems more comfortable, more Cas than he
did in the full suit.
Dean steps into Cass space and gives the collar a tug. Yeah, this is definitely it.
Cas leans in the last few inches to kiss him. Its shorter than theyd both like, and Cas pulls back,
desire and obligation warring on his face. It would probably be poor form to be late on my first
day.
It would, Dean agrees, even as he steps closer so he can do up the buttons on Cass jacket. He
presses closer than he needs to, trapping heat between their bodies, and he pulls his bottom lip
between his teeth like this is a task that requires his utmost concentration. When he looks at Cas,
he makes sure its through his lashes, and he smirks as Cass hands drop to his waist.
Youre not helping me get out of the house on time, Cas says, his voice low, almost a growl.
Deans grin stretches even though hes sure Cas will come up with a way to punish him for being
a tease. Or, maybe he grins, because he knows Cas will do just that. Dean pulls Cass head down
so he can whisper in his ear. The sooner you leave the sooner you can come home, and then
well have the whole night ahead of us.

Cass hands tighten on Deans hips. Keep this up, and you might regret having a whole, long
night.
Its a promise and one that sends anticipatory shivers down Deans spine. Ill be naked and
waiting, he says, and he tries to slip away, but Cas grabs his wrist and reels back in for one last
kiss that leaves them both short of breath.

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