Chapter Text
An ugly ass old car, and not the good kind of old car, sat in Dean’s driveway. It looked like someone had dropped a giant turd in front of his house. Dean glared at it with three different kinds of irritation. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity to spend a lot of time with Bobby growing up, but he’d been around long enough to teach him what a hunk of junk this thing was.
Anna almost always gave Dean a heads up when she had friends at the house. In those scenarios he would simply be “out of town” at the time. Otherwise known as his regular hotel room. Sometimes, depending on when his wife gave him the all-clear, he would just come home super late. Benny was never against a little overtime, driving around shooting the shit on the road.
“You want me to check it out first brotha?” Benny asked curiously, eyeing the massive beige thing sitting under the trees between the house and garage. “... or are we having a change of plans?”
“Nah,” Dean sighed, slightly annoyed opening his friend’s car door. “I want to sleep in my own damn bed tonight.”
It had been a long day at the studio. Dean had spent a good portion of it working on hitting some of the deepest notes at the exact second needed for a longer length of time. He was tired and not up for a bunch of chatter. Benny or not.
Whoever might be in the house he’d breeze past. Company that he hadn’t expected was the last thing Dean wanted. Let alone company he didn’t even know. No one he knew would ever be seen in something like an old model Continental. One from the late seventies or early eighties if he had to wager a guess.
“I will check in before I head out just to make sure you’ve gotten out of there,” Benny told him, staying just inside the garage where they had a little station for his security guard. “Rufus will be here in about an hour.”
“You’re just a nosy fucker,” Dean accused him, leveling the burly man with a knowing looking.
“What can I say?” Benny shrugged, much to his amusement, cracking a grin. “I may technically be your bodyguard, but you’re my best friend first.”
“Yeah yeah, nosey,” Dean waved him off heading for the side door that faced the garage. “I ain’t going to be in there so save your time. I’m going straight up to my room. I’ll tell you who ruined my night in the morning.”
“Night then boss,” the Cajun replied.
Once he entered the house, the screen door shutting lightly behind him, Dean instantly picked out the sound of the soft giggles that belonged to his wife. It made him want to flee back to the safety that was Benny. He might not share everything with his only friend, but Anna around her friends made him uncomfortable. Maybe because it was a vivid reminder with her behavior how much of a charade their marriage was.
Dean had to play the part of a happy, dutiful and devoted husband in front of Anna’s friends. It was what kept the illusion of their marriage being real alive. Coming home from a hard day, to plaster a fake smile on his face was exhausting.
Of course, Dean didn’t resent her for having to pretend. Both of them had agreed to the arrangement and he was content with it for the most part. He just always ended up irritable, frustrated, by the end of his playing pretend because she was allowed to just be herself. All while he sat there internally brooding. Moments like those reminded him why he got called in on occasion for small acting gigs.
Taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself, Dean tugged off his boots. The sooner he made it through the living room and over to the stairs, the sooner he could escape. Somehow they’d bought a huge house with the crappiest ground level floor plan. It’s what they got for hyper fixating on the upstairs set up that would give them both the privacy they wanted.
The ground floor wasn’t really something they used, so on any given day Dean could give a shit less about walking across it. Unless Anna and him needed to discuss something serious or cooking, the space was typically unoccupied. Although sometimes Benny hung out inside with him because they were both bored, like friends apparently did.
Dean had been relieved when Anna and Benny ended up getting along. Sure the two of them weren’t friends the way they were, but Anna and the Cajun were friendly enough for some good laughs together. You know, the kind of casual conversation needed when occupying the same space over packing lunches.
Rufus, unlike Benny, almost never came inside the house itself. The old man didn’t chit chat, and it was half the reason he preferred night shift. Although Rufus never did turn him down if he wandered into the garage for a few. He was a little ol’ softie at heart, even if he’d rather go to the grave than admit it.
Third shift was also just Rufus’s favorite time to work and be on alert. Job aside. He believed the dirtiest slime bags moved in the darkness and he alone would be able to sense their shadows. Whatever the hell that meant. Then there was also the fact Rufus believed the dirtiest slime bags moved in the darkness, and he alone would be able to sense their shadows. Whatever the hell that meant.
Honestly Dean still didn’t know how he'd managed to drag the old coot out of South Dakota with him and Sammy. He suspected it had something to do with Bobby having been the man’s only friend for decades. Some inner sense of responsibility for them when their pseudo father figure had died too.
The two of them had been left to fend for themselves at a fairly young age. Rufus was practically family by their standards, which said a lot considering they only saw him every other week. Occasionally, even Bobby had needed to drop them off to take care of shit around the house that he hadn’t wanted them to get mixed up. Supernatural paranoia as they’d eventually discovered.
Once Bobby had died, in his will Dean had been left his property. Rufus stopped by more and more after that. Food and supplies were found at random in the kitchen. The old man always denied he’d had anything to do with it, despite it being everything an eighteen year old and fourteen year old needed. Besides, it wasn’t like some ghost was wandering around with cash or a credit card.
“Honey I’m home,” Dean called out dramatically making his way towards the sound of chatter from the living room.
A simple greeting before claiming he was tired would do the trick if Anna and whoever were having a good time. It wasn’t even a complete lie for once. Maybe Dean wasn’t exactly ready to pass out, but he was more than ready for a shower and some television to relax.
“What’s going on here?” Dean started, smiling at Anna when she came into view before scanning the room to meet whatever psycho owned a fucking Contiential from fifty something years ago.
Dean had been hoping their guest wasn’t some new snobby model Anna had made friends with, or some older man she was tempted to date. Sure, she never brought her dates to their house, but you never knew. Although the second he saw the young dark haired man in the room, he was wishing desperately it had been either of those options.
High tailing it was Dean’s instinct. Run back out the door to Benny then get the hell out of dodge. Instead he found himself frozen on the spot, like his body wasn’t connected to his brain anymore.
The moment was out of those stupidly sappy and disgustingly over dramatic love songs. The ones the studio made him sing a few of on each album. It said something about his fans that those love struck melodies always became hits without him even wanting them to,
Dean felt like one of those love struck fools, frozen by attractiveness. He was down right embarrassed by it, his gut twisting in fear his attraction was instantly recognizable by his notable pause. Hell, he could feel the buzz of energy in the air that just left him staring at Anna’s guest. The fact he was reduced to no feeling and a lack of words, made him kind of hate the guy sitting in his living room.
A person could be hot and a pain in the ass. Dean himself was living proof of that. Good. It was always easier that way, stomping out arousal places it didn’t belong, which was basically anywhere in the United States for a public figure.
Still, there was something familiar about the man sitting across from Anna. On a bone deep level that went beyond the intense blue eyes that felt like they were searing past his skin and into his soul. Dean didn’t like that feeling at all nor how easily he could imagine the tufts of thick untamed hair soft against his own cheek, despite the stubble covering the man’s square jaw.
The light casual t-shirt the man was sporting said “lust or bust” on it. Dean wanted to cringe with distaste, but he secretly found it mildly amusing. He also found himself wanting to fist it in unknown emotion. Anger and arousal? Who the hell knew at this hour with Missouri’s tough love breathing down his neck.
Suddenly, the unknown man raised an eyebrow at him before glancing back at Anna. It was unfairly attractive. The brief lapse of attention allowed Dean to shake himself out of whatever weird limbo he’d been in though.
. Clenching his jaw Dean focused on turning the heated blood in his veins that was starting to make him sweat into something cooler and harder. It would have been easier if the guy hadn’t gone back to staring at him with that raised eyebrow. He could hardly pass off their stare off without being a grade A hypocrite.
Fuck. Dean hoped the moment hadn’t been more than two seconds. Better yet, he hoped it wasn’t coming across as ogling. Shit, he wanted to book it upstairs and lock the goddamn door to his bedroom ASAP.
“Hey stranger,” Dean finally managed to get out, clearing his throat and ignoring how his stomach muscles tightened the closer he got to the man. “Sweetie.”
Dean bent over to give Anna a kiss on the cheek, but he absolutely refused to sit down. He was a masochist, yeah. Just not enough of one to willingly put himself through this intense man’s attractive presence.
From the moment he’d burnt the omelette, the same one he’d made a million times in his life, that morning Dean should have known the day was going to be a rough one. What better way to end it than with a real life wet dream in his own damn living room. He took back all his grumbling towards Missouri earlier.
“Good. You’re finally home. Sit down and join us. Castiel just got into town!” Anna said brightly, gesturing to the spot on the sectional next to her, seeming completely oblivious to his want to flee like a tried and true coward. “Remember? He’s the cousin I went out to see in Chicago last winter.”
“Oh right, your cousin,” Dean nodded despite not having a clue what she was talking about, and dramatically wondering if divorce was worth it if it meant getting away from the guy that was apparently family he’d have to endure. “Nice to meet you in person man.”
“Hello Dean,” Castiel said, the back of his neck standing at attention thanks to the soft yet deep sound of the man’s voice.
Attractive family. Ugh. Dean cursed everything under the sun for whatever unforgivable thing he’d done in this life, or his last one, to deserve this kind of torture.
Castiel was turning out to be sex on his couch, even though it was unintentional. Although the guy had to know what he could do with a voice like that. Paired with his commanding look, men would drop to their knees for him. Correction, anyone. The man was probably straight. Hopefully.
Dean ignored the whisper that said he’d never turned down a challenge. He dug his fingers into the back of the couch to halt that train of thought. Goddamnit.
“Care if I just go with Cas?” Dean said surprisingly even, unsure if a family visit meant that the guy was going to be sticking around for a week or two. “Castiel’s kind of a mouthful.”
Mouthful. Ha. He was shooting himself in the foot with that one, eyes accidentally dropping and picking out Cas’s thick thighs.
The man’s facial expression didn’t change, but Dean would swear he saw a blush growing on Cas’s cheeks. It took him a second to figure out why that might have appeared from a quick drop of the eyes. One reason jumped to mind, causing his own face to grow hot.
Hate surged forward. A nasty twist in his gut. Could the guy be assuming things about him? Anna would never out him. The two of them had been friends since they were teenagers. She wouldn’t after all this time.
“That’s fine,” Cas said, nodding his head in approval of the nickname.
“So what’s the family visit for? Vacation? You got a nice hotel on the beach?” Dean asked knowing he sounded bristled and pushy, but he didn’t care.
Hopefully Cas was just in for a week to get out of the humidity of Chicago. If he was family, there was a small change Anna would offer for him to stay in their guest room. She was kind like that to people she cared about, but there was no way he’d be able to sleep in the house with the guy downstairs. Besides, the beachfront of San Francisco was quite a view.
“Don’t be silly,” Anna said, smacking his hand and he glared down at her. “Castiel came out hoping to get some publicity for his organization. I’ve been helping him plan this for nearly a year. It’s why I went out there. Honestly, do you listen to anything I say?”
Dean didn’t have anything to say to that. If he was forced to admit it, yeah he didn’t exactly pay much attention to things happening casually in her life anymore. Once upon a time they’d been closer friends, but they’d grown apart throughout marriage. It had just kind of happened between him being on the road beforehand, then living their separate lives.
Marriage, fake or not, didn’t mean they had to spend every waking hour together. The two of them each needed space for themselves, especially living up to this sham. So they’d settled into a routine that didn’t involve much personal interaction at home.
“I run The Cover of Wings,” Cas told him, straightening up looking both serious and more confident. “It’s a non-profit organization that focuses on child abuse and homelessness in the LGBTQIA+ community of the midwest. I’m hoping to bring light to the region as well as expand. The west coast is a place many dream of coming. I do have family in the north east, but let’s just say they aren’t as acceptive as Anna.”
As Cas was finishing explaining why he was here, Dean decided he was going to beat his head on the wall when he got upstairs. Afterwards, he would plot revenge on Anna. Whatever cruel game she was playing he would win. If he could have gotten away with it, he might have smothered her with a pillow right then and there. Granted she’d probably choke on her laughter first because she was fucking sadist.
“Good cause,” Dean acknowledged, pursing his lips together thoughtfully. “That’s great.”
Dean was actually debating smearing some of Anna’s red lipstick inside of her slippers. Maybe he’d mix eyeshadow and glitter into her bottle of face cream too. It sounded like a good plan.
“I'm just gonna, uh haven't been home in a while and….yeah,” Dean fumbled a little, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to indicate heading upstairs.
God, was he flustered? Dean definitely felt like an idiot. He was irritated beyond belief trying to process the situation. Words were becoming impossible to find the longer he thought on what had walked its way into his house. The exact thing he tried to ignore on any given day.
Cas looked in the direction he was pointing to before honing back in on him and narrowing his eyes. As if he wasn’t sure what to think about his behavior. Not that he could really blame the guy because he didn’t even know what he was thinking. The depth behind his gaze told Dean everything though. Somehow, some way, he was going to be toeing the line of trouble.