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Dean keeps a low profile, not making much eye contact and nursing a drink. He and Cas are working a case in some nothing town, about two hours away from Lebanon. Several people have gone missing in the area and the only common thread among them is their frequent visits to this particular establishment.
Initially, when he learned they were dealing with a case involving a gay bar, Dean hesitated. He briefly considered letting Sam and Eileen handle this one, thinking they might be more at ease in this environment. Cas, however, was determined to tackle this case, and Dean couldn’t fathom the idea of letting him go alone or, heaven forbid, with Sam.
“Well, Dean can't work the case obviously,” Claire had said, sounding very serious.
Dean, though reluctant to engage in this conversation, couldn't resist asking, “And why is that?”
Claire didn't hold back, “Because you’re homophobic, duh.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Very funny,” he replied dryly.
Jack, who was always eager to learn, chimed in, “What’s homophobic?”
So Dean has decided to put his insecurities and discomfort aside and support Cas in his determination to solve this thing. And even though he’s in a loving, committed relationship with the guy – and has been for over a year now – he can’t help but feel out of place at a bar like this.
Dean leans against the bar, sipping his brightly colored, disgustingly sweet drink through a straw. In reality, he tells himself he’s just scanning the bar for signs of odd behavior as part of the job. But there’s another part of him that can’t help but watch as numerous same-sex couples dance together, kiss, laugh, and hold hands. Women with other women, men with other men. Everyone looks so... free. Not a care in the fucking world. And Dean can’t help but wonder if for a lot of the people here, this bar is an escape, a haven where they can be themselves without fear or judgment.
The realization hits Dean like a ton of bricks. These people at the bar, those who gather here to be themselves freely, are now being targeted. They're in danger. It suddenly makes sense why Cas was so determined to work this case, to protect those who have found solace and acceptance in a place like this. A surge of determination and anger wells up within him as he abandons his drink at the bar and makes his way through the crowd.
Across the bar, Dean finds Cas engrossed in a conversation with a distressed-looking young woman. Her anxious demeanor suggests she might have information about the missing individuals. As Dean looks on, he can’t help but be struck by how out of place Cas looks in his usual attire, the long trench coat making him stick out like a sore thumb here. A wave of affection washes over Dean as he ducks his head.
It only takes Cas a moment to notice Dean and wave him over to join them. As Dean approaches, he makes out the bold letters on the woman’s shirt, which reads: “Move, I’m Gay.” His mind instantly flashes to Claire and a soft smile tugs at his lips. She looks to be around the same age as Claire too.
Cas notices Dean approaching and says something to the young woman that Dean can't make out.
“I’m Tori,” she says.
“Hey, I'm Dean,” Dean says, introducing himself. He wastes no time cutting to the chase. “So, you know one of the people who went missing?”
“Yeah,” Tori replies, her voice quivering with worry. “My best friend, Brie, is one of the people who disappeared. We were here together a few nights ago, having a great time, and then she decided to step outside for some fresh air. She hasn’t come back, and it's been days."
Cas places a comforting hand on Tori’s shoulder and offers her a reassuring smile. “We’re here to help your friend,” he says, his voice filled with empathy.
“Can you tell us if there was anything unusual or if Brie mentioned any problems she was having with someone? We need as much information as possible to find her," Dean says.
Tori takes a deep breath and wipes away a tear. “No, nothing like that. Brie’s a wonderful person and she was just excited to be here with her friends. She didn't mention any issues with anyone and it’s so unlike her to just disappear like this.”
“Was she acting weird at all in the days leading up to her disappearance?” Dean asks.
“I mean… She hadn't been eating much if that’s relevant at all. Said her stomach was feeling off,” says Tori, prompting Dean and Cas to share a look. Tori eyes them curiously, her suspicion evident. “Are you two undercover cops or something?”
Dean lets out a hearty laugh at the question. “Nah, we’re way better than that. We’re hunters.”
Cas adds, “We’re not here to cause any trouble – just trying to figure out what happened to your friend and the others who’ve gone missing.”
“Well, just let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
Dean nods appreciatively and hands Tori a piece of paper with his phone number scrawled on it. “Hey, thanks, Tori. Don’t hesitate to call if you remember anything or if you notice anything unusual.”
Tori takes the paper and gives Dean a small, grateful smile. “I really hope you find her.”
Cas adds, “We’ll do our best. Stay safe.”
With that, Dean and Cas leave her and begin to search the bar for any potential leads or suspicious activity.
“Something about this place isn’t right,” Dean observes.
“Dean…” Cas warns.
“Not because of the gay thing,” Dean clarifies. “Just... something feels off. I dunno.”
Dean and Cas move through the crowded bar, inquiring about the missing individuals as discreetly as they can manage. Despite chatting up nearly half the bar, no one is able to offer any useful information. The air is thick with concern, but it seems that no one wants to talk, perhaps out of fear or a sense of protection for their own. As they circle through the establishment, it becomes evident that they're missing something big here.
Dean grumbles in frustration as he and Cas approach the bar for another round. He orders a neon-pink concoction called an “Aftershock.” The taste is as unappealing as its vibrant hue, making Dean wrinkle his nose in disgust.
As Dean furrows his brow at the unappetizing drink, he’s suddenly jolted from his thoughts by the sight of a man who looks to be in his mid-thirties walking over to him and Cas. The guy initiates a conversation, but it becomes very clear he has no interest in talking to Dean. "You come here often?" he's asking Cas. Dean’s initial surprise and irritation quickly give way to amusement as he observes the awkward interaction. He can’t help but roll his eyes at the man’s evident lack of skill in hitting on someone who is very clearly in a committed relationship.
Cas, unfazed by the rather cliche pick-up line, replies calmly, “Oh, no, we’re here for business.”
“We?” the guy asks, sounding disappointed.
Cas gestures over to where Dean is standing a few feet away. Dean offers a sarcastic, little wave in return.
“Oh,” says the guy, glancing at Dean and then back to Cas. “You two cops or something?”
“No, but everyone seems to think that,” Cas comments.
“Maybe we’re here for the same reason as everyone else,” Dean remarks, feeling a surge of protectiveness as he speaks. That’ll show this moron to hit on Cas right in front of him.
“Your friend already said you guys are here on business,” he points out. Dean tries to suppress the annoyance that rises in his chest upon hearing Cas referred to as his friend. The guy leans in close and lowers his voice. “Wait. Is this about those people who went missing?”
That piques Dean's interest - Cas’ as well.
“You know anything about that?” asks Dean.
The guy shakes his head, “Nah. Everyone’s been talking about it though. This place is usually twice as crowded as it is right now. People are scared, man.”
As the conversation with the guy – whose name turns out to be Joe – unfolds, Dean’s annoyance simmers beneath the surface. It’s not just the lack of useful information that grates on him; it’s also the way Joe is still attempting to flirt with Cas while they’re discussing people going fucking missing. Dean feels his patience wearing thin.
“Here,” Joe offers, extending his phone to Cas. “Maybe once all this blows over, we can go out for a drink sometime.”
Dean can't contain his irritation any longer.
“Not gonna happen, buddy,” he snaps. Dean dismissively swats the phone out of the way, causing Joe to shoot him an annoyed look.
“Jeez, alright, man,” says Joe. “I can take a hint.”
As Joe departs, Dean is left standing alone with Cas, who wears a furrowed brow, evidently confused by the situation. “What just happened?” Cas asks slowly.
“Some asshole just wasted our time with hearsay because he wanted in your pants, Cas,” Dean grumbles, making his annoyance known.
Cas wears an unreadable expression that quickly morphs into one of realization. “You were... jealous."
“I don't get jealous,” Dean retorts, though he’s not doing a very good job of convincing anyone, least of all himself.
“Dean, you didn’t actually think there was any chance I would go with him, did you?”
“Course not,” Dean replies earnestly. “But that’s not the point. I trust you. The guy was just sleazy, that’s all. You’re obviously here with me, so I’m not really sure what he thought would happen.”
Cas is silent for a long moment. Then he says, “I mean, how would it be obvious? You’ve hardly touched me all night.”
Dean stiffens. “We’re working a case.”
“I know that being here is uncomfortable for you,” Cas says, frowning slightly. “And I don’t want to add to that. I was simply pointing out that Joe likely didn’t know we were a couple and meant no harm or disrespect to you.”
Dean nods. “Yeah, I know, Cas. I guess I just... reacted. Sorry if I came off as a jerk.”
“It’s okay,” Cas replies, giving Dean a reassuring smile. “I appreciate you looking out for me, even if it wasn’t necessary.”
“You wanna head back to the motel? Maybe people will be more willing to talk tomorrow,” Dean suggests.
“I think you might be right,” Cas agrees.
So they decide to call it a night and head back to their motel. They haven’t made much progress on the case, but at least they’ll have tonight to sleep on it.
--
In the comfort of their motel room, Dean finds he’s finally able to relax. He undresses, leaving his worries and the residue of the bar behind. He slips into his most comfortable cotton boxers and settles onto the bed. His hair still carries the faint shimmer of glitter, but he seriously can’t be bothered to shower right now.
As the sound of Cas brushing his teeth and washing his face drifts from the bathroom, the comfortable domesticity of their life on the road wraps around Dean like a blanket, warm and safe. He loves his brother and Eileen, no doubt about it, but there’s something special about the cases he works with just Cas.
Cas eventually emerges from the bathroom, clad in nothing but plaid pajama pants. He looks soft and clean and Dean can’t help but stare. The guy is undeniably handsome and Dean’s not shy about appreciating the view.
Dean whistles and pats the empty side of the bed next to him. Cas joins him, and it takes all of five seconds before Dean is pulling Cas into him, holding him close in the circle of his arms.
“You okay?” asks Dean.
“I think I should be the one asking you that question,” says Cas.
“Listen,” Dean sighs. “Is… all this,” he gestures vaguely, “my favorite thing to confront about myself? No. But that’s my shit to deal with.” He quietly adds, “And you know I love you, so.”
Cas smiles fondly and leans in, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. Dean reacts by leaning his forehead against Cas’, finding comfort in their shared warmth and proximity. Cas smells minty from the toothpaste and like the fancy lavender face wash Dean bought him at some overpriced boutique back home. He tightens his grip around Cas, wanting to feel as close to him as physically possible.
As they lie there, basking in the closeness of one another, Dean can’t help but feel Cas’ playful scrutiny. Cas props himself up on one elbow, looking down at Dean with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What?” Dean asks.
“You know, Dean, I can’t help but notice you’re a little... territorial right now,” Cas teases, a sly grin forming on his lips. He’s obviously referring to the way Dean is wrapped around Cas like a needy octopus.
Dean furrows his brows, feigning indifference. “Territorial? Nah, you're imagining things, dude. I already told you I don’t get jealous.”
Cas chuckles, inching impossibly closer. “Oh, really? Because it sure seemed like someone was marking their territory back at the bar,” he points out.
Dean rolls his eyes and smirks, unable to hide the affection in his gaze. “M’not jealous, Cas. I was just… making it clear you’re off-limits.”
Cas raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying their playful banter. “So, you’re saying I’m yours, huh?”
Dean grins and pulls Cas even closer, their noses almost touching. “Damn right, you’re mine,” he whispers, his voice low and raspy. He makes a move like he’s going to kiss him, then turns his cheek away at the very last second. Cas lets out a whine. “But you’re also being a brat right now.”
Their back-and-forth teasing takes a slightly heated turn, Cas’ remarks striking a chord with Dean. He can feel his own arousal building, and it’s impossible to ignore the proximity of his boyfriend, whose lips are just a breath away.
Cas’ playful tone takes on a sultrier quality as he leans in closer, his lips ghosting over Dean’s. “So, am I making you feel... possessive, Dean?”
Dean’s breath hitches as he registers the implication in Cas’ words. He gazes into Cas’ eyes, filled with desire. “Need you to stop talking, Cas.”
Finally, Cas’ lips finally meet Dean's, their kiss igniting a fire beneath Dean's skin. He can’t help but pull Cas even closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roam over Cas's body as if he’s marking territory, desperate to feel every inch of him.
Their kisses grow more fervent, and the room seems to buzz with the intensity of it all. It’s not just about jealousy or possessiveness; with Cas, it's so much more.
The sheer magnitude of their desire propels them into a heated tangle and the familiar dynamics between them begin to shift. Dean, unable to get the image of Bar Guy hitting on Cas out of his head, rolls Cas onto his back, and Cas lets out a quiet gasp of surprise. It’s not often that they switch roles like this, with Dean being the one in control.
Dean’s pulse quickens as he gazes down at Cas. The lust in Cas’ eyes is undeniable, his pupils blown wide with desire. It sends a thrilling jolt of excitement down Dean’s spine. Dean's hands slide along Cas's chest, eliciting shivers of pleasure.
“Mm, think I’m gonna fuck you,” Dean murmurs into Cas’ collarbone. Cas growls, desperately trying to arch off the bed and roll his hips against Dean’s. “Is that what you want?”
“Dean – yes.”
Dean’s mouth becomes more voracious as he nips and sucks at Cas’ delicate skin, leaving a trail of crimson marks in his wake. He revels in the sight of one particular mark blooming on the tan canvas of Cas’ neck. Something inside him thrills at the idea of marking Cas as his own, a silent declaration to the world that he's indisputably taken. Cas’ soft gasps and the way he squirms beneath Dean’s intimate assault only spur Dean on further.
“Dean… Please… ” Cas whines, helplessly.
Dean continues his descent, planting a trail of teasing, searing kisses along Cas’ body. He worships every inch of Cas with his lips like his salvation depends on it. When he reaches Cas’ collarbone, he hovers, planting soft kisses there, each one deeper than the last. His tongue darts out to trace the contours of Cas’ chest, and he pays extra attention to the sensitive nipples there. His mouth then trails lower, leaving a scattering of heated kisses along the way.
Cas’ breathing quickens and he bunches the comforter in his fists as Dean drags his lips to the edge of his pajama pants. Dean, feeling mischievous, leaves a trail of light, teasing kisses across the waistband, his warm breath ghosting over Cas’ tented pajama pants.
When he finally reaches that sensitive, aching place, he hovers there, looking up at Cas with smoldering eyes.
“Dean,” Cas gasps, his voice raw and needy. “Dean… I’m… not gonna last like this.”
Dean considers his options. “Turn over,” he eventually decides. “And take these off,” he adds, snapping the waistband of Cas’ pajama pants.
Cas complies, his face flushed with desire and his eyes filled with unmistakable longing.
Dean is initially reluctant to leave the bed, but he knows what Cas needs, and the urgency of the moment spurs him into action. Retrieving the lube from the duffel bag nearby, his fingers tremble with anticipation. It’s been a hot second since Dean topped and that fact alone has him aching for it like a goddamn teenager about to lose his virginity.
Upon returning to the bed, Dean finds Cas lying on his stomach, fully exposed, and the sight of his naked, willing form arouses Dean to the point of discomfort. His eyes hungrily trace the elegant curve of Cas’ ass, his lips parting as his breath hitches in his throat. The sight of Cas in this vulnerable yet incredibly enticing position stirs something primal within Dean. He can’t help but marvel at the rare opportunity to admire him in this way. The urge to be as close as humanly possible to Cas makes Dean’s heart pound in his chest as he uncaps the lube.
“God, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Dean can’t stop himself from saying.
“Dean, do something,” Cas begs.
Carefully, Dean maneuvers himself between Cas’ thighs and settles onto his knees. Cas looks fucking delectable like this and it’s no wonder why he likes having Dean in this position.
Dean drizzles a bit of lube onto his fingers, warming it up with practiced care. He urges Cas to turn his head, a sense of gentle seriousness in his eyes as he says, “Hey, I know it’s been a while since you – ”
“You won’t break me, Dean,” Cas promises gently. But his expression is fond as he gazes into Dean’s eyes. “I may not be an angel anymore, but my vessel is perfectly equipped for this.”
“Right, okay,” Dean laughs, a little breathless, a little drunk on the enigma that is Cas.
Dean had planned on fucking Cas into oblivion – so hard that he would see stars and be reminded he belongs to Dean and no one else – but now, when faced with the opportunity, all he wants to do is take care of Cas – make him feel the way that Cas makes Dean feel every single time. He looks so vulnerable splayed out like this. And while Dean may not have been Cas’ first, he thrills at knowing he’s the only one who’s ever done this for Cas.
“Open up a little,” Dean requests, nudging Cas’ thighs further apart gently.
Cas obliges and then sighs at the first delicate press of Dean’s slick fingertip to his hole. He lightly circles the rim, more to get Cas used to having him there than to actually tease him. After a few moments, Dean is able to slide it halfway inside, causing Cas to moan something indistinguishable into the pillows.
“You good, buddy?” Dean checks.
He thinks Cas responds with something that sounds like, “Never better.” And also, “More.”
So Dean gives more. And it’s hot working Cas open like this. Cas is lifting his hips to meet each determined thrust of Dean’s finger and making noises that should be criminal, quite frankly. It isn’t long before Dean is able to add a second and then third finger with only a little resistance. Cas writhes beneath him, letting out a string of curse words in what Dean can only assume is Enochian. Unfortunately for Dean, he can already feel his own orgasm creeping up on him – the absolute last thing he needs right now – so he withdraws his fingers abruptly, causing Cas to whimper at the loss, and pulls his own cock out of his underwear.
“Just a sec, sweetheart,” Dean promises as he gets his length nice and slick. He urges Cas onto his hands and knees and positions himself right behind him. “You good?”
“Dean, I swear,” Cas warns – and then Dean is pushing inside – all the way inside in one swift motion, and his vision whites out at the feeling of Cas’ tight muscles clenching around his dick.
“Oh my God, Cas,” he pants. “You’re – tight. So tight.”
The part of Dean’s brain that isn’t currently short-circuiting is trying to remember the last time he was inside Cas.
“I need you to — Dean, I need you to move,” Cas chokes out.
And well, Dean doesn’t need to be told twice, especially when they're both aching for the same thing. He pulls out slowly, then pushes all the way back inside, and starts building to a steady rhythm that has Cas pushing back against his dick to meet every thrust. Dean leans forward and peppers Cas’ spine with open-mouthed kisses, desperate to taste any part of him he can. As good as this feels, he longs to actually see Cas face to face. He brings his hips to a halt and pulls all the way out, both of them wincing at the loss of contact.
“Wanna see you,” Dean slurs, sounding drunk off his own arousal.
Cas seems to register what Dean is asking for and turns over onto his back in a hurry. Dean takes a moment to admire the erection that curves slightly against Cas’ belly, thick and red and leaking precome.
“Jesus,” Dean mutters at the sight.
He readjusts himself on his knees in this new position. Cas lifts his hips from the bed and hooks an ankle over Dean’s shoulder, spreading himself wide – giving Dean easy access at this new angle. Dean wastes no time lining his dick back up with Cas’ entrance and pushes in slowly.
“Ah, there you go, sweetheart,” Dean drawls.
Cas looks absolutely wrecked beneath Dean as they work back up to their pace from earlier. This angle allows Dean to slide a hand under Cas’ knee and hold him steady so that the head of his cock pounds repeatedly against that sweet spot deep inside of Cas.
“Dean,” Cas whimpers.
“I got ya,” Dean promises. “Love you so much, Cas.”
“Dean, I lo –
And oh shit, then Cas is coming – dick never having been touched – all over Dean’s chest and stomach. And this is why Dean wanted to see him – Cas is fucking beautiful when he comes. There’s something about the look on his face – like he can’t quite believe any of this is real. That he gets to have this. Dean fucks Cas through his orgasm and chases his own as white hot spurts of Cas’ come paint his abdomen.
Cas eventually stills, panting, but urges Dean on. He gives himself over completely, letting Dean use him as he wishes. Cas is watching with hooded eyelids, the affection there unmistakable, as he signals for Dean to keep going.
“I marvel at the sight of you, Dean Winchester,” Cas says, sounding so sincere and in love that Dean’s eyes grow suddenly wet. Jesus, Cas knows what that fucking does to him – when he starts waxing poetic about Dean like he’s something precious and rare. “So beautiful, you are. Every time I get to be with you like this feels like a treasure. A gift. Nothing I’ve seen in my lifetime even comes close to comparing to the look on your face in the throes of pleasure.”
Dean falters, his thrusts growing suddenly erratic as he braces for his climax. “God damn it, Cas,” he growls.
And then he’s coming – hard. Dean trembles violently as the orgasm ripples through him in waves. He feels Cas’ arms wrap around his back as Dean fills him with his release.
“That’s it, Dean,” he murmurs, coaxing him through it.
When he’s finished, Dean collapses on top of Cas and kisses him sweetly.
--
The next morning, Dean stirs in the dimly lit motel room, his body protesting the early hour. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand tells him it’s barely past six. With a languid yawn, he stretches his aching joints, feeling the familiar kinks in his back and shoulders slowly start to loosen. There’s a deep-seated ache in his hips and thighs that wasn’t there before last night. Dean gazes down at Cas and smiles softly. There’s always a peaceful quality to his sleeping form that Dean envies. His tousled hair points in every direction and a tranquil expression graces his face. Dean's eye catches on the deep, purplish bruise that has blossomed on the side of Cas’ throat, a stark contrast against the surrounding skin. Dean’s dick gives a hopeful twitch beneath the sheets.
“Not now, you,” Dean whispers to his dick.
“Dean?” Cas asks, sounding only partially lucid as he blinks against the faint morning light. “What time is it?”
“Too early for you, bud,” Dean murmurs, his voice gentle and hoarse, still laden with drowsiness. “Go back to sleep.”
“Mmm, ‘kay,” Cas responds.
Dean bestows a tender, barely-there kiss at the crown of Cas’ head, then eases out of bed to pull on his boxers. He gets fully dressed and fetches a cup of coffee from the nearby gas station.
The thing about this case is that Dean isn’t even sure it has a supernatural angle. While Sam seems convinced these disappearances have an otherworldly connection, Dean has his doubts. Who’s to say some sadistic asshole isn’t just snatching people from the local gay joint for fun? The thought turns his stomach slightly. Or maybe it’s this lousy coffee.
Dean refrains from rousing Cas until around nine. Despite his desire to let Cas sleep in, cocooned in the covers like a lazy cat, duty calls. And with no leads, no suspects, and no bodies, it feels important to get somewhat of an early start.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” is Dean’s cheerful wake-up call to Cas when he returns to the motel.
Cas groans. “You promised I could sleep longer,” he protests.
“That was hours ago, buddy,” Dean chuckles.
“I think you should be more sensitive to my plight,” Cas points out, snuggling beneath the pillows. “You wore me out, remember?”
Dean can't help but feel a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”
“Mmm, it was quite delightful,” Cas admits, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Once Cas is fully awake, they make their way to the diner down the road, where they order their usual breakfasts. Cas can’t resist stealing forkfuls of crispy hashbrowns from Dean’s plate, and underneath the table, their feet tangle.
Dean sips his coffee, contemplating the situation. “I’m just not sure if this thing snatching people is something up our alley,” he confesses, his brow furrowed in thought.
Cas raises an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “What makes you think that?”
Dean leans in a bit. “Other than Tori’s friend who felt kind of sick, no one noticed anything odd about any of the other victims.”
"That's true," Cas concedes, nodding thoughtfully.
Dean continues, his expression growing more pensive. “And we don't have a body to go off of. This could just be some homophobic asshole preying on innocent people.”
Cas, furrowing his brow, adds, “It is rather peculiar, isn’t it? Six people gone missing, and not a single body has turned up. It’s a small town; where could someone possibly hide them without anyone noticing?”
Dean nods, his own thoughts mirroring Cas’ concern. "Exactly. It's not like there’s some underground labyrinth here. Maybe we should look into the local authorities, see if they’ve missed anything unusual, or if there’s any criminal activity they might’ve overlooked.”
“You think the cops might’ve overlooked something?”
Dean smirks and takes a sip of his coffee, his tone dry. “Ha. Wouldn’t be the first time the cops were shit at their job.”
After they finish eating, Dean and Cas return to the scene of the crime. When they arrive, their faces fall as they see the area cordoned off with police cars already on the scene. They share a knowing, apprehensive glance; it’s not the start to the day they were hoping for.
As they approach the commotion, a distraught bartender from the previous night is engaged in a frenzied conversation with the cops. Dean and Cas pull out their FBI badges and flash them at the officers, who regard them with suspicion, but allow them to listen in nonetheless.
The woman, Alicia, swipes at her teary eyes as she recounts the events of the previous night. Her voice quivers as she explains how her co-worker, Amanda, had stepped outside for a smoke break but never returned.
Dean furrows his brow, probing for any clue that might shed light on Amanda’s sudden disappearance. “Did you notice her acting strange at all these past few days? Did she mention anything out of the ordinary?”
Alicia takes a moment to collect her thoughts, her eyes puffy from crying. “She said she was... really dizzy. She thought it was the flu.”
Dean exchanges a glance with Cas. Unexplained illness could be a vague indicator of something awry, but it’s not enough to form a clear picture.
A familiar voice suddenly calls out and Dean groans. Oh, great, he thinks as he turns to see Joe from the previous night approaching the group. “I was just driving through and saw all the commotion,” Joe explains, gesturing to all the cop cars. “Has someone else gone missing?”
Dean is grateful when the police officers cut Joe off before he can annoy Dean any further. While the guy may be genuinely concerned for the people in his town, he’s already rubbed Dean the wrong way, and Dean doesn’t anticipate that changing anytime soon. The cop explains that they are exploring all possible angles but can’t delve into specifics while the case remains open. He adds, “Hopefully, these two agents,” referring to Dean and Cas, “will be able to offer some help as well.”
Joe’s eyes widen slightly, and he’s looking directly at Cas, not Dean, as he remarks, “Shit, I knew you guys were cops of some kind. Didn’t think they’d send the feds though.”
Before Dean can tell this guy to get lost, the police officers announce they need everyone to clear the area so they can proceed with their investigation. Joe, ever the persistent presence, interprets this as his cue to tag along with Dean and Cas as they make their way over to Baby. He’s like an annoying fly that just won’t be swatted away. Cas shoots Dean a glance that carries an unspoken message: Be nice.
Joe’s eyes appear to lock onto the very conspicuous mark on Cas’ neck, and Dean can't help but feel a flicker of possessiveness ignite within him. “Oh, wow, someone had fun last night,” Joe remarks, sounding disappointed despite the smirk he wears. “Didn’t see you leave with anyone.”
Caught off guard by Joe’s observation, Cas touches his neck. “What? Oh.”
Dean intervenes, cutting to the chase, “Can we help you with something, man? We’re in the middle of trying to solve a case here. People are in danger.”
Joe, blushing slightly and struggling to divert his gaze from Cas, stammers, “Right, sorry.”
Thankfully, Cas takes charge of the situation, suggesting, “I think we should be getting going. We still need to speak with the family.”
Joe takes the hint. “Guess that’s my cue to leave."
“Guess so,” Dean responds, his voice dripping with annoyance as he watches Joe make his exit. The presence of this persistent stranger only adds to the mounting tension surrounding the case, and Dean can't shake the feeling that Joe’s curiosity might complicate matters further.
He notices Joe lingering as he makes the trek back to his own car. He keeps looking back at them, and it sets off Dean’s internal alarms. He mutters to Cas, “I don’t trust him.”
“Dean,” Cas sighs.
“What? I’m just saying.” His eyes briefly dart to the mark on Cas’ neck.
And then, Dean decides to throw caution to the wind. He figures if this guy, Joe, wants to look, he'll give him something to look at. “C'mere.”
In one swift move, Dean draws Cas into his arms, their lips meeting in a soft, unhurried kiss. The clatter of car keys hitting the ground tells Dean that Joe got an eyeful of what he didn’t expect. Serves him right.
When they part, Cas looks at Dean with a knowing smirk. “Do you feel better now?” he asks.
Dean grins slightly. “A little bit,” he admits. “Now let’s go solve this thing.”
--
Talking to Amanda’s family is a total bust, not to mention depressing. The weight of their grief bears down on Dean and Cas, leaving them both feeling emotionally drained by the time they’re pulling out of the driveway.
Dean suggests they head back to the motel for a breather. Cas seems surprised by this sudden change in plans. “Dean, is everything okay?”
Dean forces a smile and brushes off Cas’ question with a hint of gruffness. “Yeah,” he says, “Just feeling a little off. Kind of nauseous. Probably that lousy coffee I had this morning.”
It’s a flimsy excuse, one that Dean himself doesn't quite buy, but he doesn’t want to dwell on it. People are going missing, and Dean – what? Has a tummy ache? Big deal. He just needs to lie down for a bit and he’ll be good as new.
--
By the time they arrive back at the motel, Dean is faring even worse. He feels like he’s simultaneously hot and cold, and it's clear he’s coming down with a fever. Cas places his hand on Dean’s forehead and gently guides him under the covers.
“Horrible timing to get sick, huh?” Dean comments, attempting to keep his tone light. He doesn’t want Cas to worry, but the concern in Cas’ eyes is hard to ignore.
“Dean, I’m not so sure you’re sick in the way you think,” Cas says, his brow furrowing deeply as he assesses Dean's condition. He seems to be talking more to himself than to Dean.
“Cas, I'm fine. It just... hit me all of a sudden. Feels like the flu maybe.”
Cas continues to watch over Dean, his worry evident. “You’ve been perfectly fine, and now...are you feeling dizzy at all?” he asks.
Dean concedes, “Well, yeah, a little. But it's nothing serious, like I said.” Despite his efforts to downplay the situation, he’s already starting to feel worse by the minute.
In his weakened state, Dean believes he hears Cas saying something to him, but the soothing sound of Cas’ voice gradually fades as his eyelids grow heavier. The fatigue and illness take over, and before he realizes what's happening, he’s drifting off into a deep slumber.
--
Dean’s senses are muddled as he awakens in the middle of a dense, eerie forest. The moonlight casts eerie shadows, and all of a sudden he hears it – the unmistakable cries of pain echoing in the distance. Cas. Panic seizes him, and without a second thought, he starts running towards the source of those anguished screams. “Cas!” he shouts, his voice laced with fear. “Cas, where are you?”
Dean’s feet propel him through the darkness for what feels like an endless stretch of ground until he finally arrives at the entrance of a foreboding-looking cave. Hesitating briefly, he listens as Cas’ cries grow closer and more desperate, prompting him to enter without further consideration.
Inside, the cave reveals a nightmarish sight. Bodies, suspended in the air, surround him, all unconscious and seemingly in some form of torment. There is no sign of Cas, and Dean’s heart races as dread takes hold.
A figure emerges from the shadows, a wicked but familiar grin sending shivers down Dean’s spine.
“You,” Dean growls, narrowing his eyes at Joe of all fucking people. It becomes chillingly evident that the guy has orchestrated this entire nightmare. “Are these all the...?” He glances around, realizing the suspended bodies belong to all the missing people. He recognizes Brie from the pictures on Tori’s phone. Dean feels ill. “This whole time…”
“Surprise,” Joe responds, his tone filled with a sinister cheerfulness.
“What the fuck are you?” Dean demands, his voice laced with rage.
“Why, a Lorophage Demon, of course,” Joe replies. “We feed on pain and trauma. It’s how we gain our strength. Hence…” He gestures to all the bodies.
Dean, baffled and terrified, hasn’t heard of such a creature. “Jesus, okay.” He pauses. “Tell me one thing, though: Why the gay bar, dude? Why not, like, literally anywhere else?”
Joe shrugs casually. “A lot of unresolved trauma to go around in those parts. Makes for a good meal.”
“You sick fuck,” Dean spits. “And you wanted Cas,” he realizes suddenly. His blood runs cold. “Where the hell is he?” Dean shouts, anger coursing through him. “What did you do to him, asshole?”
Joe smirks maliciously. “Nothing. And yes, I did want your friend initially, but then it became clear that you would be better suited for my... needs.” His last word is laden with malevolence. "You're very traumatized, Dean. Rough childhood? Too much time in the closet?”
“What the hell did you do to me?” Dean demands to know.
Joe’s grin widens as he reveals, “Just a simple hallucination spell. Needed to get you here somehow.” The revelation chills Dean to his core, the realization of his own vulnerability and peril dawning on him. “Are you ready to join the others, Dean?”
“He will do no such thing,” a voice cuts in.
Relief floods through Dean. “Great timing, Cas.”
“What is all this?” Cas asks, taking in the bizarre scene of suspended bodies with a mixture of confusion and alarm. Then, as Cas catches sight of Joe, the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he mutters, “Don't you dare say ‘I told you so,’” to Dean. Despite the impending doom of the situation, Dean can’t help but smirk at Cas’ familiar stubbornness.
However, any semblance of levity quickly dissipates as Joe springs forward and presses a menacingly sharp blade to Dean's throat.
“You’re not going anywhere, Dean-o,” Joe laughs.
“Dude, do you realize how messed up this is?” Dean says, his voice both firm and empathetic. “These people, they’re just trying to – I dunno, live their lives. Go out with their loved ones and exist free of judgment. They’re supposed to be safe in that place. And you took that from them. And for what? To feed off their pain?”
Joe’s grip falters for a moment, and this brief hesitation gives Cas the opening he needs. With a lightning-fast motion, he retrieves the Angel Blade from inside his trench coat and strikes with unwavering precision, putting a swift end to the Lorophage Demon’s reign of terror.
Cas helps Dean to his feet, concern still etched in his features as he looks Dean over for injuries. All of a sudden, the victims are freed from their suspended states and fall to the ground. It’s over.
--
After returning the victims to their loved ones, Cas suggests they hit the road to head back home. Dean, however, hesitates. “We should stay one more night,” he proposes.
So they decide to celebrate their successful resolution of the case at the gay bar. The previous night they spent here had left Dean feeling uncomfortable and unsure of himself. Out of place. But now, in the midst of the lively crowd of people just… existing, he feels lighter somehow. He freely touches Cas, sips on a slightly less distasteful yet equally fruity drink, and doesn’t even complain when glitter clings to his clothes. He notices Cas continually casting an affectionate gaze his way, as though Dean is the center of the universe.
“I’m proud of you, Dean.”
“Just don’t tell Sam about this,” he groans. He picks a piece of silver confetti out of his hair. “Or Claire. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Fine. But you have to dance with me.”
Dean rolls his eyes, but obliges nonetheless.
People in the bar look at them with gratitude and admiration. By now, word has spread around town about how they helped return the victims home safely. Dean can’t help but smile back, and in a moment of unabashed joy and love, he pulls Cas in for a passionate kiss right in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn't care who sees.