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Castiel holds his breath as he waits for Dean to come out of the bedroom. He's already been sitting in the living room for over half an hour and he's getting anxious, frequently catching himself picking at the loose piping on the arm of the couch just for something to distract himself from thinking about what this actually is. Dean's been shouting through the door for ten minutes now that he's just about done - he just has to straighten his tie or make sure his sleeves don't bunch up. Cas doesn't know why he's stalling, but he's also not sure he'd want to know the answer, so he sighs and forcefully pulls his hand off the couch yet again.
"Okay," Dean grumbles through the door. He sounds defeated, and Castiel can't help but think that whatever's wrong can't possibly be as bad as the waiting he's had to endure. "I'm coming out."
The bedroom door pushes open slowly, and Dean steps out into the hall, arms stiff at his sides and a rosy pink tinging his cheeks. He shrugs awkwardly and holds his arms out at his sides, looking anxiously at Castiel.
"So what do you think."
Cas' breath catches in his throat and his fingers still immediately.
"Honestly?" he asks. Fucking amazing. Absolutely gorgeous beyond words. Stunning. Perfect. I'd like to push you up against a wall and kiss you senseless.
"Cas?"
Cas' eyes flick up from where they've been tracing the lines of Dean's torso through his clothes, "you look amazing, Dean." Dean’s nervousness fades almost instantly, replaced with a bright smile, and Castiel's heart clenches.
"You're sure?" he asks, "the tux isn't too much."
Castiel shakes his head, smiling up genuinely, "not at all. Lisa will love it."
And just like that, the uncertainty is back, and Dean's fingers curl around the edge of his sleeves, "you think?"
"I know, Dean." He rises, crossing the room to tighten Dean's tie, flattening it with his fingers, "you're very handsome." Dean flushes darker and dips his head.
"Thanks," he mumbles, then pauses, fiddling with his cuffs, "you're uh, you're gonna be around later, right? If she says no, I mean?" He glances up just enough to meet Castiel's gaze, and Cas pulls up the brightest smile he can manage.
"She's not going to say no, Dean." No one in their right mind would say no to marrying you.
Dean nods, though he doesn't look like he believes it, "okay, I guess I should-" he turns to look at himself in the hall mirror, dropping his shoulders and straightening his back. Cas reaches over his shoulder, pressing down a flyaway hair, and earning himself the briefest smile from his friend.
Dean readjusts every inch of the tuxedo before turning back to Castiel, "hey, uh- thanks, man. For everything."
"You're welcome, Dean. Now go, or you're going to be late."
Dean flashes him a nervous smile and turns the knob, disappearing out the door with a visibly anxious breath.
As soon as he hears the rumble of the Impala fade away, Castiel locks his door and crosses back to the couch, flopping down on it with a sigh. He rubs both hands over his face and shuts his eyes, trying to imagine a world where he doesn't want to curl up and die daily because he's so completely in love with his best friend.
He tries to be supportive. Honestly, he does, but after fifteen years of watching the man you love date and sleep with more women than you can count, being supportive becomes pretty damn hard. He loves Lisa, and if it wasn't for his own feelings, he would probably be thrilled that Dean wants to marry her - he would be the one sitting up with her planning the wedding when Dean's had too much of the 'girly shit.'
The thought alone makes him wince.
God, he wants to be happy for Dean, wants it more than almost anything, but nothing he tells himself can stop the stupid fluttering in his heart every time Dean calls, or shows up at his door. Nothing he tells himself can stop him from hoping, just a little bit, that Dean will change his mind and come back to him.
He scoffs out loud at himself, and pushes off the couch in frustration. Dean will never find anyone better for him than Lisa, he'll never be happier than he will be with her, and Cas will probably sit around in his living room with his pathetic excuse of a writing career, and the furry garbage disposal unit that he calls a cat until he's old and grey and Dean and Lisa's kids are having their own weddings. Maybe one of them will fall in love with their best friend and sympathize with crazy Uncle Cas, and then at least he'll have some company.
Fuck, he's pathetic. Sparing a fleeting glance at his closed laptop at the other end of the couch, he wanders into the kitchen, hunting for the bottle of Russian Vodka that had seemed like a good idea at the time. The only thing to mix it with is fruit juice that sounds less than appetizing, but he grabs them both and kicks the fridge shut, making for his room with the intention of drinking himself to sleep.
Dean won't need him later, Lisa will say yes.
- - -
Dean swallows hard and fists the hand that's poised to knock on the door. If he knocks now, if he's let in, it'll change his life forever, maybe for the worse. On the other hand, he could go back to the restaurant and hope for the best, hope that everything he's been pushing down and ignoring for years will stay pushed down and ignored. It's pretty much a lose-lose situation.
For three years now, he's known what he wants: to get married, have a family, take his kids to tee ball and swimming lessons and go out for picnics on bright summer days. He sighs and drops his hand to his side, staring blankly at the door before him. He still wants all of that but he's not sure it's Lisa he wants it with. Yes, he wants to get married and have a family - more than anything. It's not the commitment that's the problem, it's Lisa. He loves her, and he knows he should want to spend the rest of his life with such an amazing, accepting woman, but when he looks back on their two-year relationship, he finds himself wanting not something more, but something different.
Godfuckingdamnit.
Dean shuts his eyes and raises his hand, inhaling shakily as it comes into contact with the cold door. He tries to even out his breathing as he waits for the door to open, but his heartbeat's erratic and he can barely think straight. He knows what he wants, and it’s so close, so goddamn close, and yet just out of reach.
Fuck.
Dean flicks his eyes up as the door swings inwards, and he doesn't care that it's not who he's expecting to see, the words are tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them.
"I'm in love with Cas," he chokes out, and the tears that have been threatening to spill over finally do, streaming down his cheeks as he breathes heavily through his nose.
"Oh, Dean," is all he hears before warm arms wrap around his back, one hand rubbing circles between his shoulders as he inhales the familiar scent of Jess’ perfume.
"What am I gonna do?" he breathes, curling his fingers in her shirt.
"Come on in, hun. Sam's upstairs painting the nursery." She curls her fingers around his, leading him into the living room, shutting the door quietly behind them. Dean goes automatically, following her lead completely as she sits him down on the couch. He drops his head into his hands as she steps away, and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. He's so fucking screwed.
Sam finds him like that a few minutes later, nudging his side and holding out a beer. Dean takes it with a sound of appreciation and holds it between his knees so he doesn't have to look up and face his brother. Sam sits next to him and takes the bottle back, popping the lid off and handing it back.
"You got anything stronger?"
"Sorry, I told Jess I'd stay sober with her 'til the baby's born."
"Awesome," Dean groans, lifting the bottle to his lips. An uncomfortable silence falls between them, and Dean can't tell if he's thankful for the silence, or if it's just grating, but it's pretty obvious that Sam's not gonna be the one to talk first.
"So," he starts, surprised by how rough his voice comes out, "what'd Jess say?"
"She mentioned Cas."
Dean lets out a long breath, "yeah."
"You want to talk about it?"
He nods slowly, before breathing out a quiet, "yeah, kinda."
"Alright."
"Fuck," Dean breathes, leaning back and dropping his head against the back of the couch. He's stopped shaking for the most part, but he's still not totally sure he's up to this. Or anything. Ever again. "I guess I should start by saying I'm bisexual," he says, before he loses all will to continue.
"I kinda got that," Sam says softly. Dean can hear the smile in his voice, and it helps to calm him down a little. "How long have you known?"
"Pretty much always," Dean huffs, fingers curling protectively around the bottle in his hands, "you, um, you remember Balthazar?"
"That English kid that lived down the street?"
"Yeah, I kinda had a thing for him."
Sam laughs, and Dean can't help the pull of his lips because yeah, this is all a little ridiculous.
"So, how does Cas fit into all of this?"
Dean takes a deep breath, tipping his chin forward and glancing briefly at Sam out of the corner of his eye, "I'm in love with him."
There's a pause, and then, "wow. Sorry, I mean- does he know?"
"God, no."
"I mean, that you're bi."
Dean can't bring himself to say no, but he shakes his head and closes his eyes, "I want to tell him. I hate keeping things from him, but I just- and then I was with Lis and it didn't matter, but I just-" there are tears in his eyes again and his hands are shaking, "I can't lose him, Sam- I can't."
"You won't," Sam says, and he sounds so damn assured, that Dean almost believes it, but there’s a sudden overwhelming desire to just go to sleep, and it’s not like he really wants to bring his brother down with him.
"Can I stay here tonight?"
"Yeah, of course. I can make up the guest room-" Dean cuts him off with a shake of his head. The last thing he wants is to sleep alone in a huge bed like the one in Sam and Jess' spare room.
"I'd rather sleep on the couch."
Sam doesn't question his choice, just gets up quietly and leaves the room. Dean downs his beer and kicks his shoes off under the table, staring down at the crisp fabric covering his legs. He's still just staring when Sam comes back with a blanket and drapes it over the arm of the couch.
"You need anything?" he asks. Dean shakes his head and mumbles a soft 'no'. Sam rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly before he makes his way out of the room. "'Night, Dean."
"'Night Sammy."
It's got to be at least another fifteen minutes before Dean works up the energy to strip out of his tux and crawl under the quilt, pressing himself as tightly as he can into the couch cushions. It's the first night he's spent alone in months, and he feels guilty for not missing Lisa's warm body next to him.
He reaches out for his phone, shooting off a text to Cas before he can think better of it, and tucks his phone under the edge of the couch cushion. It goes off a few seconds later and Dean manages to wait all of a millisecond before grabbing it.
I miss you.
The message staring back at him isn't at all what he expected, and he can't help wondering if it was sent to the wrong person. With a shaky breath, he taps out his reply: miss you too, and turns his phone off.
When he pulls the quilt up over his chin, all he can think about is how much he wishes that it was Cas curled up against him every night. Holding tight to that thought, he presses his back into the couch and shuts his eyes tightly.
- - -
Castiel casts another side glance at his phone, sitting on the edge of his desk, as if he expects it to magically spring to life. He hasn't seen or heard from Dean in six days, and it's starting to bother him. Normally, he wouldn't think anything of it; Dean has his own life, and Cas doesn't expect by the minute updates from him, but the last time he saw his best friend was the day Dean was supposed to propose, and Castiel had thought that whatever the outcome, he would have heard something form him. Instead, all he has is a strange text message that he can’t figure out.
And that's another thing. Castiel has his drunken stupor and years of repressed feelings to thank for texting Dean I miss you in the middle of the night, despite the fact that they had seen each other only hours earlier, but he can't figure out what inspired the responding miss you too. Unless Dean's screwing with him. Still, he should have heard something.
Another half hour, a grand total of three sentences written, and an entire bottle of wine later, Cas picks his phone back up and finds Dean's number in his contacts, tapping the screen. The call goes almost instantly to voicemail, and Cas doesn't know if he should be angry or concerned. He ends the call and makes to try again, but his phone goes off in his hand, and he thinks maybe it's Dean calling, that his phone is dead and he's been holed in up with Lisa in bed for a week, and that everything is fine. He frowns down at Sam's picture on the screen.
"Sam?" he asks.
"Hey, Cas."
"What the hell is going on?" he demands, before Sam has a chance to say anything. He's not normally so rude, or impatient, and part of him immediately regrets sounding so angry, but he's also frustrated, and very probably intoxicated.
"Cas are you drunk?"
Cas pauses, then ignores Sam's comment and continues, "I haven't heard from Dean in nearly a week and I'm worried."
Sam's sigh is defeated, and Cas can hear him shuffling around before he actually speaks, "he just needs some time alone right now. He ended things with Lisa."
"He wha-" his mouth moves before he can think, and then he's stumbling over his words and Sam's trying to calm him down on the other end.
"Cas, calm down, he's fine, he just- he's a little messed up right now." Cas stops speaking for so long that Sam has to check and make sure he's still there. "Cas, you okay?"
"Is this about me?" he mumbles, asking the question that he can't help thinking.
"Why would you say that?" Sam asks, and he sounds worried, nervous.
Cas takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, "can I tell you something?"
"Yeah, of course, anything."
"I- I'm in love with Dean." Total silence echoes back at him, and Cas' heart pounds against his ribcage, threatening to break through as his brain fumbles around trying to think of a way to correct himself, to fix what he has undoubtedly fucked up. "I don't- I can't do it anymore. If he's upset with me, that's fine, I understand, I just can't see him anymore."
"Why not?" Sam asks, and it sounds so carefully toneless that Cas has to stop and collect himself again.
"It hurts," is all he manages before he chokes up. He curls his fingers tightly around his phone and squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.
"Cas?" He makes a sound that almost sounds like a response, and Sam exhales slowly, "you should talk to him, don't just run away because you're scared."
Cas wants to shout at him, to tell him there's no way he could understand what it feels like to be in love with your best friend who, aside from being your best friend, isn't even interested in your gender. He wants to scream and cry and throw things because this situation is so impossible, and he hates himself for the immaturity of it all, but everything hurts all the time and there's no way Sam understands that.
"He won't want to talk," is what he actually says, and he can imagine Sam running a hand through his hair in frustration on the other end.
"Cas, trust me, he'll understand. Promise me you'll talk to him."
"Sam-"
"Promise me, Cas."
"Fine, but if he takes it badly, I'm walking away."
"That's totally fair."
Cas mumbles an unintelligible response and pulls the phone away from his ear, ending the call. He flips his phone over in his hands again and again, internally debating whether he wants to keep his promise. Yes, Sam probably knows his brother better than anyone else, but Cas knows him too, and if Dean has an aversion to anything, it's feelings. On the other hand, he can't really disappear out of Dean's life without so much as an explanation after almost fifteen years. Fuck. Life should not be this complicated. He picks up his phone to text Dean that they need to talk, and it beeps at him the second he lifts it up. When he opens the message, his heart drops; all it says is we need to talk next to Dean's name.
Fuck.
It takes him nearly ten minutes, but he manages to tap out are you busy now? and press send before he loses his nerve. He gets a response a few seconds later, and without letting himself think about it, picks up the phone and calls.
"Hey," Dean answers, and he sounds nearly as bad as Cas feels.
"Um, are you able to come over? This isn't a conversation I want to have over the phone."
"Yeah," Dean breathes, and Cas' heart races. "I'm in town, I'll be over in a few."
"Okay."
The line goes dead, and Cas feels like he's about to throw up. In less than half an hour he will not only lose his best friend, but also the love of his life, and there's no way to make it any better. He slumps onto the couch and nearly falls off it again when the doorbell rings five minutes later.
Cas is practically shaking as he walks to the door, but he pulls it open and lets Dean in as calmly as possible. They stand in complete silence, pointedly not looking at each other for what feels like an eternity before Cas can't take it anymore. If this is the end, he wants it to be over and done with.
"Fuck," he mutters, breathing unevenly, "it wasn't supposed to be so hard."
"What wasn't?" Dean asks, barely lifting his head, but Cas doesn't reply. Goddamn everything. He can't do this. He can't just let Dean walk out of his life like this. Tears well in his eyes before he can stop them, and he tries to turn away, but Dean catches him.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he reaches up to brush a thumb over Cas' cheek, and Cas tries to bat his hand away, but Dean catches his wrist, sliding his thumb up to rub circles into Cas' palm.
Cas balls his free hand into a fist at his side, "I can't do this anymore- being around you-" he shakes his head, "Dean, it hurts just being in the same room as you, and I can't do it anymore. I promised Sam, but I can't- when we're alone it's not as bad, but with Lisa- and the last few months have just been so damn hard-"
"This is about Lisa?" Dean frowns.
"It's not just Lisa," Cas mumbles, "it's about every woman you've ever been with since we met." Dean's eyes narrow and he pulls back, scowling.
"What the hell is this about, Cas?"
"I'm so sorry-" Cas closes his eyes and clenches his hand, still warm from Dean's touch, "I love you," he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut. There's a heavy silence and then Dean's hands are on his face, and he's kissing him harder and more passionately than Cas has ever been kissed in his life.
"I didn't know," Dean whispers, just barley pulling back from Cas' lips, "I'm so sorry- fuck, I'm so sorry." He kisses him again, and Cas pulls away. He's shaking, and Dean doesn't look much better, his eyes watery and red as he bumps his forehead against Cas', his nose pressing against his cheek.
"What?" is all he can manage.
"I love you, Cas," he kisses him briefly, "I love you so goddamn much." Dean's hands slide back into his hair and Cas manages to direct them back toward the couch, dropping onto it as his legs threaten to give out on him. Dean laughs lightly as he kneels next to him, pressing Cas back into the cushion.
Cas leans back, breaking the kiss for a second to look up at Dean, "what I said- I didn't mean- I don't want to lose you."
"It's okay," Dean smiles, dipping to kiss his jaw, "I get it. All you gotta do is say it Cas, just say the word and I'm yours."
"Please," Cas breathes, and there's barely a second before Dean's lips find his again, soft and warm and perfect. He slides his hands up Dean's chest, curling his fingers in his shirt, and kisses him back with everything he has.
Time seems to evade them, and it feels like a dream that Cas refuses to wake up from - if this is anything but real, he doesn't want to go back to reality - but then Dean shifts so he's between Cas' legs and his cock presses against Cas’ abdomen, hard and straining against his jeans, and that is definitely not a dream.
"Sorry," Dean mumbles, shifting backwards. Cas curls a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him back down.
"Can I-?" he asks, and Dean's lips twitch in a nervous almost-smile.
"Yeah," he nods, "yeah, Cas."
Cas slips one hand down, palming Dean's cock through his jeans. He feels him jump through the stiff fabric, and Dean groans as Cas closes his fingers around him, dragging up and back down again. He's thought about it for so long, never expecting to have this opportunity, and Dean is so much more than he could have expected, soft and eager and so damn beautiful. He pops the button on Dean's jeans, sliding his hand inside and wrapping it around him. Dean moans softly, pressing into Cas' palm, and Cas runs his free hand through Dean's hair.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, and Dean drops his head to kiss him, pushing his tongue into Cas' mouth and cupping his cheek with one hand. He's slow and tender, and just the brush of his lips has Cas hard and aching in his pants.
"Cas," Dean hums, moving from his lips to mouth at the sensitive skin just behind his ear, "Cas, baby, let's go to bed." Cas lets out a soft breath, and hauls Dean into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” Dean breathes.
"Okay," Cas agrees, pushing himself up with Dean and grinning as Dean clings to him. Cas kisses him, letting himself get lost in the press of lips against his own and the way Dean arches against him, rolling his hips and moaning into Cas' mouth. Cas slips his arms under Dean's ass and hoists him up, starting down the hall and pressing Dean up against the wall next to his door.
There's a moment of clarity when Cas realizes that his is happening, that Dean is really here and he's not going to lose him. There's no need to rush anything; Dean wants this just as much as he does. It takes time for him to let himself believe it, but when Dean touches his face, he beams at him, shifting so he's got one arm under Dean, lifting the other to lean against the wall as he presses into Dean, holding him against the wall with his own weight.
Dean rolls his hips, both arms wound around Cas' neck as he kisses him, desperate and sincere, and Cas can't help but press forward to meet him. He cards a hand through Dean's hair as he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips and slides between them, claiming his mouth.
He manages to get a hand between them, pulling back far enough to pull Dean's shirt up over his head, and ducking to mouth at his neck, running his tongue along his collar bone. He sucks at Dean's pulse point, running his tongue over the flesh and moving up to graze Dean's jaw with his teeth. Dean's head drops back against the wall with a thud and he lets out a low moan, pushing his hips forward. Cas' cock throbs, and he rocks his hips up, sliding his arms back down under Dean's thighs. He lifts him up again, backing up and carrying him backwards through the bedroom door.
"I can't believe this," he breathes, laying Dean back on the bed and climbing over him, "I can't believe you're here."
Dean smiles up at him, brushing his palm over Cas' cheek, "me neither. God," he breathes, "I was so afraid you'd be pissed."
"Never," Cas grins, dropping to press their foreheads together, "I've always loved you." Dean wrinkles his nose in a bashful smile, and Cas shuts him up before he can speak, kissing him again and moving down to tugs his pants off. Dean shifts awkwardly above him, and Cas steadies him with palms on either thigh, pressing his mouth against the inside of Dean's knee and working up, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his skin. He makes his way up, pausing only when Dean sits up and pulls Cas in by the front of his shirt, and yanking it off. He tosses the shirt aside and Cas drops down, pushing Dean's thighs apart and licking a stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock. Dean's hands push into his hair, curling his fingers tightly as his hips jump up.
Cas mouths at the head, running his tongue around the crown before sinking down on him again, one hand running the length of Dean's thigh. Dean shudders above him, pulling his knees up and dropping back against the bed with a thud and a moan. Cas huffs a laugh, and slides one hand up Dean's side, running it up his chest brushing his thumb over a nipple, his other hand reaching down to press between Dean's cheeks, rubbing over his rim.
Dean arches off the bed, fingers digging into Cas' scalp, "fuck," he breathes. Cas drops back so he's kneeling on the floor and groping around on the floor until he finds the bottle of lube. He slides his arms under Dean's thighs and rests them over his shoulders, pulling him up to the edge of the mattress, and he ducks down, fingers sliding up Dean's chest as he noses at the base of his cock. Squirting lube onto his fingers, he presses into Dean slowly, keeping one hand on his hips as Dean presses up. He chuckles softly, rubbing his cheek against Dean's thigh as he rubs against his prostate, working Dean up until he's practically shaking.
"Fuck, Cas," Dean huffs. His hands are quick and indecisive, jumping from Cas' head to his shoulders, gripping him hard before curling in the blankets above his head. "Oh, baby-"
Cas kisses his hip, moving down until his tongue can slide in easily next to his finger. Dean groans loudly, pressing back onto him, and Cas adds a second finger, flexing them and pushing his tongue between. Dean moans, grabbing Cas' arm and tugging him up until they're nose to nose, Dean bent in half over him.
"Baby, I wanna taste you," he breathes, letting his eyes drop shut as their lips meet again. Cas lets him pull him back up onto the bed and into his lap, and Dean's hands are at his jeans in a second, rubbing over the bulge of his cock and pressing his thumb against the growing wet spot.
A desperate moan bubbles up from his chest, and he tilts back, pressing his hips forward and he nearly falls backward until Dean wraps an arm around his lower back and pulls him back against him. He nips at Cas' jaw, cupping his cock through his jeans, and Cas rocks forward against him, slipping his arms around Dean's neck. His hands follow the line of his neck, dragging up into Dean's hair as he ducks down, lips hot where they meet Cas' chest. He's so worked up already that even the briefest touch of Dean's lips sends an bolt of electricity straight through his cock. He whimpers as Dean moves down, his hips rocking up as Dean's fingers slip into his waistband and then pull away. Dean's impossibly slow as he opens Cas' jeans, pushing the button through its hole and dragging the zipper down inch by inch, and Cas has to reach up above his head to stop from doing it himself.
Dean chuckles softly, "you want somethin' baby?"
"I just want to feel you," he breathes, trying not to betray his desperation. Dean hums in amusement, pressing a line of kisses just above Cas' waistline that send sparks through his entire body. Cas lifts his hips the second Dean's fingers slip into his jeans and he groans as they're slowly, slowly pulled down over his hips. His patience is pulled as tight as it can go and its taking all of his willpower not to hurry things along while Dean's kneeling over him with a big dirty grin on his face, perfectly calm and collected.
"Dean," he huffs, "what are you waiting for?"
Dean chuckles low and bends over, kissing Cas' collar as he works his pants down, "nothin' babe, I just like watching you squirm."
"Shut up," Cas mumbles, but he's cut off by his own moan as Dean's lips slide up his shaft and over the head. Dean hums around him and draws away for just long enough to get Cas' pants over his feet before his mouth is back, licking and sucking up the length of his cock.
Cas sucks his stomach in, pressing his hips up every time Dean's tongue swipes over his slit. His skin is tacky with sweat, and the room feels like it's a thousand degrees, but the pleasure shooting up his spine blocks out anything else, and when Dean's fingers press at the underside of his balls, he lets out a low moan and tugs a pillow over his face.
Dean chuckles and runs his fingers up the inside of his thigh, kissing up to take the head of Cas' cock into his mouth, and Cas' moan is muffled by the pillow. Dean goes down on him without so much as a complaint, taking Cas as deep as he can and cupping his balls gently. His mouth is hot and perfect as it slides over Cas' length, and Cas pushes all other thoughts aside as he rocks his hips up in short, shallow thrusts. Dean's tongue winds around him, and Cas lets out a muted, "oh fuck," as he slides up and presses the tip of his tongue into the slit.
Cas bucks up hard, shaking as he sinks his teeth into the pillow, "Dean, fuck-" he throws his arms over the pillow, pressing it into face, "Dean, I need you."
Dean pulls off and huffs a laugh, pushing the pillow over the top of Cas' head and onto the bed again, "can't see you with that covering up your face," he grins, ducking to kiss him. His tongue slides between Cas' lips, curling around his own and Cas slides his hands up Dean's arms, gripping his biceps.
"Cas," Dean breathes, dragging his lips lightly over Cas', "Cas, baby will you fuck me?"
Cas' eyes snap up to meet Dean's, surprised by the question, "do you want me to?"
"Yeah," Dean nods, straddling Cas' hips and leaning down next to Cas' ear, "I wanna ride you."
Cas lets out a breathy groan and wraps his arms around Dean, kissing him furiously and wrapping his legs around Dean's, "there's lube in the box under the bed."
"You gonna let me get it?"
Cas hums and draws him in again, running his hands over Dean's back and kissing him languidly. When he does let Dean go, the man is gone for all of two seconds before he's climbing back up the bed and pressing the bottle into Cas' hand, kissing him hard. Cas slides a hand down over Dean's ass, pressing a finger between his cheeks and rubbing over his entrance. Dean hums and presses his cock into Cas' stomach, resting his head on the mattress next to Cas' ear as Cas slicks his fingers up and works Dean open slowly. He takes pleasure in the soft moans that fall from Dean's lips, thrusting into him faster as he mumbles into his ear.
"I'm ready, babe," Dean pants, "God I want you," he nips at Cas' earlobe and sits up as Cas pulls out, meeting his gaze as he shuffles back so Cas' cock presses against his rim. Dean rocks back on him, shifting his hips so Cas' cock catches on his rim and slides up his back, leaving a smudge of pre-come on Dean's skin. Cas pulls his hips up, holding Dean over his lap as he aligns the head of his cock with Dean's hole. The man grins at him and leans down to kiss him as he drops his hips down, sinking onto Cas in one fluid motion.
It's hot and quick, and Cas barely has a chance to adjust before Dean's rising back up and dropping down again. Cas' fingers dig into his hips and dean kisses him hungrily, biting and sucking and flicking his tongue at Cas'.
"Shit, Dean," Cas gasps, trying to keep his composure as Dean clenches around him, "fuck."
"Baby, you're amazing," Dean groans, and Cas slides his hands up, digging his fingers into the flesh of Dean’s ass and thrusting up hard, circling his hips as he bottoms out. Dean's eyes flutter closed and he lets out a stuttered breath, so Cas draws back and slams into him again. This time Dean cries out, his nails scratching Cas' shoulders.
"Right there, Cas, goddamn." He gives up control, happy to let Cas take the reins, and he kisses Cas' mouth, his jaw, his neck, but it isn't long before he's sitting up again, leaning back and pressing Cas' thighs back down to the bed.
He drags his fingers down Cas' chest and Cas arches up after them with a soft grunt. Dean chuckles, circling Cas' nipple with his fingertips and sinking back down on him. He rocks his hips forward roughly, pressing his knees into Cas' sides as he moves. He rolls his hips in slow, sensual circles and Cas can barely keep his eyes open, too overwhelmed by the press of Dean all around him and the shocks of pleasure that spark through him with every movement.
In all the times he's thought about it, he never imagined sex with Dean being like this; he pictured it quick and frantic, over before either of them really had a chance to realize it was a mistake. This is so much better than he ever could have dreamed of; Dean's soft and gentle at the same time as he's rough and desperate, and he seems set on driving Cas out of his mind, which Cas is actually incredibly okay with.
Dean pushes himself up onto his feet, leaning back on his hands and rocking his hips down onto Cas' cock. The sensation is amazing; Dean's tight around him, pulling up the length of his cock, and when he sinks down again, Cas can't help the little jerk of his hips, pushing up to meet him. He watches Dean open-mouthed and practically gasping as Dean rides him, and he can't help but wonder how this man came to want him. Dean is gorgeous like this, his skin hot and damp with sweat, the flush in his cheeks making his freckles more prominent, and he doesn't know the reason, but he's thrilled that Dean wants him, and not anyone else.
Cas slides his hands up Dean's thighs and drops his head back against the bed, "fuck me," he breathes, and Dean barely wastes a second before he's shifting back onto his knees and thrusting his hips roughly, grinding down on Cas' cock with all he's got. Cas barely manages a breathy moan as Dean leans over his chest.
"You getting close baby?" he pants, sliding a hand over Cas' cheek. Cas sits up and kisses him, pulling him back down to the bed.
"So close," he rasps, "fuck, I'm so close."
"I want you to come, Cas- come on babe."
He wants dean to come first, but Cas really isn't in any position to choose when Dean sits up and leans back, sinking heavily onto Cas' cock and grinding against him. He's barely hanging on as it is, and when Dean reaches back to rub Cas' balls, the last of his strength vanishes and he comes with a broken cry, bucking up hard and digging his nails into Dean's hips. Dean rides him through it and it feels so fucking amazing Cas is surprised he doesn't pass out.
When he starts to come down, he looks up to find Dean rocking his hips frantically, one hand curled around his own cock, and the image is so hot that his cock gives a weak twitch of interest, buried deep inside dean, and he jerks his hips up. He's met with a desperate gasp and Dean drops forward, one hand planted on Cas' chest as the other jacks himself quickly.
Cas bats his hand away, wrapping his own fingers around Dean's length as Dean grinds down in his lap.
"Fuck, Cas, baby- fuck-" Dean thrusts forward into his hand, moaning and biting his lip, and it's only a matter of seconds before he's coming hard, thick ropes of come covering Cas' stomach.
Dean breathes heavily for a few seconds before dropping his eyes to meet Cas'. He leans down over him, kissing up his chest and neck, regardless of the mess, and he collapses onto Cas as their lips meet again in a soft, slow kiss. Cas' fingers find their way up to Dean's head, carding gently through his hair, and Dean's hands frame his face.
"I love you," Cas whispers, and Dean smiles down at him.
"Me too," he whispers, leaning down and just barely catching Cas' lips with his own, "I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay," Cas beams, and Dean grins widely, dipping to kiss him again before pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He rises up and Cas watches him stride out of the room, and turn down the hall toward the bathroom, and Cas sinks down into the mattress, a stupid grin plastered on his face. He lies still for a few seconds, basking in the afterglow, and the thought that he and Dean are both massive idiots, but they happened to get lucky with each other.
He's still mulling over how they managed to not realize how the other felt for so long, when Dean comes back, kneeling next to him on the bed and sitting back on his heels.
"Hey," he smiles, shifting closer and pressing a cloth to Cas' stomach, "whatcha thinkin' about?"
"Really?" Cas asks, smirking as Dean wipes the cooling come off his chest, following with soft kisses against his skin as he shrugs. "I was thinking about how oblivious we've both been."
"Yeah," Dean agrees, chucking the cloth to one side and climbing back into bed next to Cas. "We got there though," he grins, pressing close and slipping a hand into Cas' hair. Cas kisses him and rolls onto his side, letting one arm flop over Dean's hip.
"We did," he hums. Dean chuckles lightly, his eyes falling shut, and he presses another lazy kiss to Cas' lips.
"You don't mind if I stay, do you?"
"I'd be upset if you left."
"Good," Dean grins.
He falls silent, and for a while Cas thinks he might be sleeping, but then he turns onto his side and his eyes flash up to Cas', "what's up?" he asks groggily.
"I just-" he starts to say he can't sleep, but changes his mind and sighs, "why didn't you tell me you were interested in men?"
"Oh. I don't really know, Cas. I guess maybe I thought you'd think I was faking? or you'd realize how I felt and be pissed? I'm sorry, I didn't say something earlier."
"I'm not angry," Cas breathes, "I just don't understand."
Dean shrugs, "we can talk about it in the morning, babe, just get some sleep." He runs a hand down Cas' arm, and Cas wrinkles his nose up at the pet name, burying his head into the pillow.
"Okay. Goodnight, Dean."
"Night, Cas."
- - -
Cas only wakes up when he hears his alarm go off, and he only crawls out of bed because his phone, for whatever godawful reason, is in the living room when he is not. He stumbles into the living room, shielding his eyes from the light that he obviously forgot to turn off.
When he finds his phone, it turns out it wasn't his alarm at all, but Sam calling him that woke him up. Dropping onto the couch, he fumbles with his phone and manages to return the call.
"Cas," Sam says, and he sounds relieved, "sorry to call you so early, but I can't get hold of Dean, and I wanted to make sure things went okay with you two, that he's not out their drinking himself stupid somewhere."
"He's not," Cas assures him with a yawn, "he's asleep in my bed." He can hear Sam smile down the line, and he can't help but grin himself, despite his exhaustion.
"Thank god," Sam mutters, "sorry I woke you up, man, get back to bed."
"You too, Sam. And uh, thank you. For not letting me walk out on the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Glad I could help Cas, I'll talk to you guys later."
Cas hangs up the phone and smiles softly down at it, infinitely glad that he and Dean have Sam between them to sort out their crap. He makes sure all his alarms are turned off and he double checks the locks on the door and turns off the lights before making his way back to bed.
Dean's still asleep, but he shifts when Cas lies down next to him, cracking an eye open and squinting at him.
"What's up?" He mumbles.
"Nothing. Sam called, go back to sleep."
"What's Sammy want?"
"To make sure you're okay."
"'M fine," Dean hums, curling an arm around Cas and drawing him in, "better than fine." He presses a clumsy kiss to Cas' cheek and lets his eyes fall shut again.
"Yeah," Cas agrees, quietly tracing the line of Dean's jaw with one hand, "me too."