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15 February 2010 @ 09:02 pm
Fic: Conversations without Dean Winchester  
Title: Conversations without Dean Winchester
Author: carmexgirl  
Rating: R for some sexytimes
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Warnings: Exasperated!Sam, jealous!Dean, general daftness
Spoilers:  Up to and including 5.13
Word Count: 6,674
Summary: Dean doesn't really know what's going on.  All he knows is, it sucks.
Author’s Notes:  This is a sort of sequel to Conversations with Sam Winchester.  It takes place over the same time period and it's from Dean's POV.  You don't have to read the previous fic for it to make sense, but it'll probably help.  Thanks to everyone who commented on the last one!


It’s a difficult thing dealing with new-found feelings. Even more difficult when these feelings seem to go against a large part of the way you’ve been living your life thus far. At least that’s what Dean thinks, and it’s his main excuse to himself when he finds his thoughts drifting towards Castiel and why he hasn’t really addressed that whole issue yet.
 
He thinks it should come as more of a surprise to him that he likes Cas. Not just likes, but likes as in ‘I wanna lick the parts of you I can’t see right now’ sort of like. He thinks he should rightly be shocked that he, Dean Winchester, the man who ogles women whenever he can, who likes having sex with them whenever he can, would actually contemplate having sex with a man. Not just any man, but an angel of the Lord at that. He supposes it’s testament to how messed up their lives are now that this little development isn’t seen as a big deal. It’s natural—Cas saved him from Hell, Cas practically fell for him, and now they’re fighting this war against angels, demons and whatever else together. He just wishes he had the guts to tell him.
 
He thinks all of this while cleaning his guns, indulging in some quiet time and using the last of the oil to make sure they’re properly lubed and gleaming. His phone, sitting beside him on the bed, rings abruptly and he jumps slightly, then jumps a little more when ‘Cas’ flashes up on the screen. A sudden paranoia hits him--he hasn’t been reading his thoughts, has he?
 
Dean picks the phone up with greasy fingers, pressing the ‘answer’ button and trying desperately to stop it slipping out of his fingers by anchoring it between his jaw and his shoulder.
 
“Hey Cas.”
 
“Hello Dean.”
 
“What’s up?” He hasn’t seen Cas in a while, and he asks the question hoping that Cas isn’t busy, and can perhaps spend some time with him and Sam.
 
“Nothing is ‘up.’ I would like, however, to know your location.”
 
Awesome. “Kokomo, Indiana. At the Lighthouse Inn Motel. Doesn’t look much like a lighthouse. Why? You thinking of coming over?” Dean tries not to sound too hopeful.
 
Castiel seemingly hesitates on the other end of the line. There’s a crackle and Dean’s sure he can hear faint whispering. “There’s been some atmospheric disturbances near San Francisco, and I was checking it wasn’t centred around you and Sam.”
 
“Nah, we’re good. Why don’t you come over and we can catch up? Haven’t seen you in a couple of days, Cas. Be good to see what’s playing on Angel FM.” It’s been two weeks, actually, but Dean’s trying to play it down. He doesn’t want to give Castiel the impression he’s missed him or anything, because that’s straying into chick territory and he’s definitely not doing that. There’s an apocalypse going on; not the end of the freaking world. Yet.
 
Again there seems to be some hesitation, and the whispering’s back. Dean thinks he can make out the words ‘Lord’ and ‘forgive,’ but then again it could be the static from the ‘atmospheric disturbances,’ whatever the hell that meant. Castiel eventually speaks again. “I will, Dean, but I have some things to attend to first. Hopefully I will see you soon.” The phone clicks off.
 
Fine if Cas is too busy, Dean thinks. He’s busy too, saving the freaking world. It really doesn’t matter. Except there’s a feeling in his stomach that indicates it does.
 
He puts his gun down, and picks up the can of oil, which is now completely empty. He knows he doesn’t have any more, and he also knows that they’re running low on salt and matches. Someone needs to go and get some, but Dean’s a little annoyed at his fruitless conversation with Cas, so he thinks he’ll just sit right here and let Sam go and get supplies. Right on cue, the door opens.
 
“Dude!” Sam exclaims, sounding exasperated. “What’ve I told you about guns on the bed? What if someone comes in?”
 
“We tell her we’re from the FBI and she should mind her business, that’s what.”
 
Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, great plan. Way to win over the locals. What’s got you all worked up anyway?”
 
‘Because Castiel doesn’t want to come and visit, that’s why,’ Dean thinks, then inwardly kicks himself. “We don’t have any oil, we’re down to our last sack of salt and there’s no matches. Well, there’s that book that got wet and I managed to dry, but I ain’t relying on that. And, we need lighter fuel.”
 
“So?”
 
“So go get.” Dean tries to flash him a smile, but with the mood he’s in, it comes out more like a grimace.
 
“Dean, I’ve made the last three trips to get supplies. Your turn. Besides, you used all the oil.” 
 
“Hey, it’s not my fault I want our weaponry to actually work when we’re faced with whatever’s out there.” 
 
He stares at Sam. Sam folds his arms, and gives Dean the look of a man determined. Dean knows he’s lost this argument, and he’s not really in the mood to disagree at this point, so he stands up and goes to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he’s done, he grabs his bag and walks out.
 
“A beer would be good!” Sam shouts as he shuts the door.
 
“Yeah, it would wouldn’t it,” he mutters under his breath as he walks to the store.
 
 
The store was surprisingly easy to find, and, for once, had everything he needed. So much so that when Dean finishes shopping, he finds it’s a struggle to carry the bags back. He’s only been half an hour, but already he’s hungry, and hopes Sam’s in the mood for food.
 
Struggling with the bags, Dean kicks the door to their motel room open and sees Sam sitting on the bed, looking slightly confused. “Little help here,” he says, before throwing the bags onto the floor. On the floor, he notices a small black feather. He looks again at Sam, and instantly knows he’s hiding something.
 
“Someone been here?”
 
“Yeah, Cas.”
 
Cas? Cas was here? No, couldn’t be. Cas said he was busy and couldn’t drop by. “Cas? Not Gabriel?” It’d be just like that archangel bastard to turn up unexpectedly and try and convince Sam to do something stupid.
 
“Yeah, just Cas.” Dean catches the defensive tone in Sam’s voice, and immediately he’s suspicious. “He just came to have a talk.”
 
“What about?”
 
Sam tells him that Cas wanted to talk, he helped him, and then he left. Simple as that.
 
Only it’s not simple. Because it sets Dean’s mind whirring in all kinds of directions. He knows that Sam and Cas have become closer—man, Cas had even said he wouldn’t let him be killed by anything. Which is great, but he can’t help feeling that he’s lost something. He used to like the exclusivity he had with Castiel; Cas was ‘his’ angel, the one who watched over him. Now he’s watching over Sam too and while Dean’s happy that someone other than him is looking out for his little brother, he kind of wants to feel like the special one again as far as Cas is concerned. Which is all kinds of lame.
 
So he wanted to see Sammy. Fine. So he spoke to Sammy about something. Also fine. So Sammy helped him with a problem and now it’s all solved so he’s gone without even saying ‘hello’. Peachy.
 
Dean flops down on his bed. He sees Sam watching him from the corner of his eye, that slightly confused look on his face.
 
***
 
It’s a week later, and they’re on their way to South Dakota. As far as Dean knows, there hasn’t been any more visits from Castiel to him or to Sam, and it sets him thinking again. How do you tell an angel of the Lord that you like him? You know, like him like him. Like you wanna spend time sniffing his body hair. It’s all so freaking confusing.
 
Suddenly a horn sounds loudly to Dean’s left hand side.
 
“Dean, eyes on the road, man. You almost hit that truck.”
 
Dean looks over to Sam, who is sitting in the passenger seat sipping on a bottle of water. “What truck?”
 
“Exactly.”
 
Dean turns his eyes towards the road again. He genuinely didn’t see any truck, and he wonders if Sam’s messing with him to make a point. He’s distracted now, which is a shame because driving is when he does some of his most productive thinking. He’s been doing that a lot lately, thinking about Sam, about Castiel. He and Sam have been busy, dealing with a witch in Indiana before getting a lead on a nest of vampires up in South Dakota. He knows they’re dealing with small fry at the moment, but it seems to make sense to carry on with the day job while the angels and demons figure out what their next move is. Still, would have been nice for Cas to phone once in a while, just so they know he’s ok, Dean thinks bitterly.
 
That’s when he hears the clunk. A kind of metallic sound coming from deep inside the Impala. At first he thinks he’s hearing things, but when he speeds up slightly, he hears it again. He can literally feel the colour draining from his face.
 
“Did you hear that?”
 
“Hear what?”
 
Clunk. “That.”
 
“What?” Sam looks amused, which annoys Dean because this isn’t funny. This is his baby here. The clunk sounds again, louder this time.
 
“That! That sound!”
 
“Oh that. Yeah I heard that. What is it?”
 
“I don’t know Sammy, you tell me.”
 
Sam thinks as the clunking continues. “Engine something?”
 
“Engine something. Great. Good one. We know what you’re doing when the apocalypse is over, right? Forget Lucifer’s vessel—car maintenance is your true calling.”
 
“Dean, shut up. Pull over and see what’s wrong if it’s worrying you.”
 
“Who’s worried? ‘Sides, we’re 10 miles from the motel—probably be able to make it.”
 
“Yeah, if the car doesn’t blow up first.”
 
“Don’t say that.  Never say that.” Dean feels a little sick—he hates it when there’s something wrong with the Impala and he doesn’t know what it is. Hates it. And Sam’s self-satisfied grin doesn’t help much.
 
“Dude, you’re looking a little pale. You need some water?”
 
“It’s fine, Sammy. Fine. Just…don’t say anything, ok?”
 
The sound seems to be getting louder and louder the longer the car is on the road, and Dean can feel himself getting more and more worried. At least they’re not far from Bobby’s. They’ll get back to the motel, he’ll find out what’s wrong, and get what’s needed from Bobby’s.   He’ll even walk if he has to.
 
As soon as they pull up, he tells Sam to go and sort out a room, while he scrabbles under the Impala to work out what the hell is wrong, hoping it’s nothing major.
 
A he gets underneath, he sees Sam’s feet walk to the car. “Dean?”
 
“Yeah?”
 
“Room 107. There’s only one key though so I’ll leave the door open. Everything ok?”
 
“It’s fine, Sammy. Get some rest.”
 
Underneath the Impala, it all looks good—nothing to do with the exhaust or any of the mechanics underneath the car, so it must be the engine. Dean comes out from underneath and pops the hood, propping it up to see what’s wrong. Ah, there. He sees it almost immediately. The air filter is rusted to hell, bits have fallen off, and a huge part has come loose and is rattling around, which explains the clunking noise. It’s not the end of the world, but it’ll need replacing.
 
He puts the hood down and phones Bobby, who answers with a grunt. “What?”
 
“Bobby, do you have a 14 inch air filter?”
 
“A what?”
 
“A 14 inch air filter for the Impala. The one that’s in there is rusted to hell.”
 
“Who do you think I am? I don’t keep an inventory, boy.”
 
“Yeah I know, but do you think you have one? Come one, you know what cars you got, right?”
 
He can hear a slight wheezing which means Bobby is thinking. “Yeah…reckon I got one you can use. Not an exact match but it’ll do. You gotta make do until you get here though.”
 
“That’s great, Bobby. I’ll…do a temporary fix and we’ll get ourselves over to you. Deal?”
 
“Deal. See you both in a coupla days. Be careful, Dean.”
 
“Thanks Bobby.” The phone clicks off, and Dean turns to look at the horizon. The sun’s setting now, and he estimates he must have been working on the car for two hours straight. He’s suddenly acutely aware he needs to piss, so he wanders over to the motel and finds the door to room 107. He thinks he can hear voices inside, but when he opens the door, they stop. The door to the bathroom is closed, so he thinks Sam must have been in the shower with the radio on. He bangs loudly on the door.
 
“You decent in there?” It’s his tried an tested method when Sam’s been in the bathroom for a while, all stemming from that one time when they hadn’t been on the road together that long, and he’d barged in the bathroom to find his brother on the toilet, jeans open… Yup, don’t want that to ever happen again. “I need to piss, Sam.”
 
Sam opens the door, and looks a little flushed. Dean smirks to himself, knowing exactly what he’s been getting up to in there, and moves out of his way before going in. He undoes his zipper, pulling his jeans and boxers down before aiming for the toilet. He sighs in relief, and closes his eyes as he empties his bladder. He opens them as he finishes, looking around the bathroom for a towel. “So what took so long in here?” he begins to ask, a knowing smirk on his face, when he sees it.
 
There, attached to the thin white towel hanging off a radiator, is a small black feather. A small, black, very familiar feather. In the bathroom. “What…is this another black feather?”
 
“Yeah,” comes the reply. Cas was here again.”
 
“He’s here?” Dean says it carefully, not wanting to jump to the sort of conclusions his mind is screaming him to.
 
“No, he’s not here now. He had to go.”
 
So Cas has been here again. With Sam. Alone. In the bathroom. The bathroom that’s barely big enough for one person, let along two, unless they were very, very close. And Sam looked a little flustered when he came out, but Dean thought he’d been…been…
 
It’s like a switch flicks in his brain and he’s suddenly on autopilot. He doesn’t even bother to do his jeans up. He just walks out of there, holding the feather in front of him and waving it at Sam.  He can feel his jeans sliding down his hips but he doesn’t care, just stares at Sam who shields his eyes and tries to change the subject. It doesn’t work, because Dean’s mind is now fixed on the fact that this is the second time Castiel has been to see Sam, the second time they’ve talked without him there. Without even a phone call, or a “Hello,” or anything.
 
Oh yes, he’s been talking with Sam. Talking privately with him about stuff they just can’t tell him. He’d promised himself months ago that he wouldn’t argue with Sam, because he’s seen the future and he really doesn’t want that to happen, but this…it’s hard. It’s like Sam’s deliberately not telling him something, and he hasn’t heard from Cas in a week so he’s finding it difficult not to be suspicious. Because if your brother and the angel you kinda have a thing for are holed up in a very small bathroom together with the door shut, it’s only natural to wonder what the fuck is going on, right?
 
He tries to play it down, tries to make out he’s been worried that Cas is dead because he hasn’t heard from him. Worried like any friend would be. Because they’re supposed to be a team, right? A team. And teams don’t have secrets from one another. Most of all, his brother and his angel shouldn’t be keeping secrets from him. All part of being a team. Which is the point, and he feels the need to make it clear to Sam.  “We’re supposed to be a team!” He argues.
 
“We ARE a team Dean!” Sam shouts at him. “It’s just you need to get with the program!” He throws his hands up in exasperation and does that ridiculous ‘this is all so stupid’ face, before storming out.
 
Dean’s shaking slightly with anger, and walks from one side of the room to the other in order to work off the adrenaline that’s rushing through his system. It’s only on the fourth walk that he feels a breeze on his crotch and realises his pants are undone. ‘Stupid Sammy’, he thinks, ‘like he’s never seen junk before.’ He sits on the bed, turning on the TV and idly flicking through the channels. For a brief second he wishes Gabriel were there—at least he’d contrive some ludicrous situation that would make them all tell the truth. Stupid angels.
 
 
The next day he distracts himself by fixing the Impala. He’s still angry, but it’s kind of evolved now. At first he was angry with Sam, but then Sam came back and brought him beer so he couldn’t really be angry that much. Then he was angry at Castiel for not coming to see him, not talking to him or even letting him know that he wasn’t burnt to hell somewhere. At sometime around two this morning when he’d been stewing the whole night, he became angry at himself. Why couldn’t he just tell him how he felt? 
 
Oh yeah. Angel. Nerdy guy with wings who probably wouldn’t realised someone liked him even if they tried to dry hump his leg. Then he thought about dry humping Castiel’s leg, which sent his brain off into all sorts of weird directions and he realised that man, was he messed up.
 
So now he does like he’s always done, and tries not to think of his brother and the angel having their little private conversations, with the talking leading to kissing maybe, and the kissing leading to…
 
He drops the wrench he’s holding and swears loudly. 
 
“Dude, calm down.” Sam’s voice. He turns around and Sam’s actually smiling, like all of this is amusing. He tells himself it’s best not to think about anything otherwise more tools will go flying and he’ll run the risk of permanently damaging his baby.
 
“Dean you’ve been on this for what, a couple of hours now? You need to eat.”
 
Actually, Dean realised he was pretty hungry.
 
“Let’s go for a burger. On me?”
 
“For real?”
 
“Yeah, Dean. You’re the one who’s working hard so we at least have a car. It’s the least I can do.”
 
Dean actually smiles at this. “Thanks, Sammy. And uh, sorry for, you know, last night.”
 
Sam’s smile gets broader. “No worries, Dean. Just letting off steam, I know. It’s hard not to go stir crazy when you don’t know what’s going on in the world, right?”
 
“Yeah,” Dean laughs lightly. “Something like that.”
 
 
They eat, and Dean makes an extra effort to flirt with the waitress. She’s not great looking. Ok, he supposes, with a good chest and a nice ass, but apart from that, nothing special. When she smiles at him and puts down their drinks he notices a crumpled up piece of paper with what looks like her phone number on it. Yeah, he thinks, still got it. He smiles at Sam, who rolls his eyes.
 
When he gets back to the motel he’s in a good mood. His belly is full, he knows it won’t take long to improvise with the Impala, and then they can get back on the road and head to Bobby’s. As he opens the door, he notices something glinting on his bed. Sam sees it too and instantly pulls out his gun. 
 
It’s a chrome air filter. Exactly the size and type he needs for the Impala. And ,if he’s not mistaken, it’s an original, with not a dent or a speck of rust on it. It’s tied with a red bow, and there’s a note attached which simply has a kiss on it. 
 
He looks at Sam, who’s standing there, gun lowered, mouth open in a passing resemblance to guppy fish at feeding time. “Sammy? Who the hell did this?”
 
Sam’s still standing there, apparently insensible with shock. He can see his eyes flicking to the air cleaner, then to Dean, then back to the air cleaner again. His mouth is still opening and closing.
 
Dean can’t stand this anymore, and walks over to him. He grips his shoulder and starts shaking, hoping to manhandle him out of his apparent shock. “Sam? Sammy? Are you ok?” 
 
After a few sharp shakes, Sam seems to snap out of it. “Fine, Dean. Fine.” He manages.
 
“What the hell is this? Who do you think did it? Gabriel?”
 
It’d just be typical of that trickster-archangel bastard to come up with something that’ll mess with their minds. Sam tries to placate him but he’s not buying it. The bastard could be in the room now, watching them, laughing his ass off. As he glances around the room, he catches Sam saying the word ‘admirer’.
 
Dean wants to laugh. What kind of admirer buys you car parts? Either someone who’s very, very strange, or someone who knows him pretty well. Nah, it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t, would it? He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face at the thought of Castiel travelling back in time, removing the air cleaner from a brand new Impala, wrapping it up in a bow and leaving it on his motel bed.
 
He smiles to himself as Sam leaves. He’s jealous, probably. Jealous because no one ever bought him a car part. Ha. Score one for Dean.
 
The air cleaner fits perfectly, and looks, well, amazing. Dean’s quite proud of his handiwork, and stands back to admire it from afar when he sees Sam walking towards him. He smiles triumphantly at him, and Sam smiles back.
 
“All fixed?” Sam says as Dean wipes his face on a cloth.
 
“Yeah, just gotta take her out on a test run but I think she’ll be fine…” He stops. There, on Sam’s jacket, fluttering nonchalantly in the slight breeze, is a black feather. He can feel the anger rising inside him. Yet again Castiel’s been here, and yet again he’s spoken to Sam. Alone. Without him. Didn’t even have the guts to see him.
 
 “What’s that on your jacket?” Dean asks Sam carefully, watching as he looks down, and looks up with a mixture of horror and embarrassment on his face. Sam puts his hands up and tells him not to get mad but it’s a bit too fucking late for that, because Dean’s already seething. This finishes here, now. He’s gonna get to the bottom of this once and for all because he swears that hearing the truth, hearing that his previously straight brother has been having sexy fun times with his angel, is better than them having their secret trysts and their little conversations without him.
 
He’s shouting. He knows he’s shouting. There’s nothing else he can do. He wants the truth, and Sam’s going to give it to him or so help him…
 
Sam suggests they go back inside the motel. Dean thinks it’s a good idea because really, he doesn’t want people to see him kick his brother’s ass in broad daylight. Dean sits on his bed and watches through narrow eyes as Sam pours them both a whiskey. He may as well keep the cap, because Dean has a feeling when this is through, he’ll be drinking straight out of the damn bottle. He takes the glass that Sam offers and looks him straight in the eye. “Spill,” he practically commands.
 
Sam takes a gulp of whiskey. “Castiel gave you the air cleaner.”
 
“What?”
 
“He gave you a present.”
 
He knew it was Castiel. Knew it. “Why?”
 
“Castiel…Castiel likes you.”
 
It’s as if Dean’s mind is finding this information too difficult to process at the moment and he really, really doesn’t want to make an ass of himself by making the wrong assumption. “Of course he likes me, Sammy, he pulled me out of Hell. He practically fell for me.”
 
“That’s just it. He’s started…he’s started to have feelings for you, you know, feelings that have been confusing him. That’s what he’s been talking to me about. I thought he was talking about a girl, so I gave him some crappy advice about giving a gift because honestly, Dean, I didn’t know he was talking about you otherwise I would have told him to forget it.”
 
 “Really?”
 
“Yeah. He kind of…he loves you Dean. He told me he loves you.”
 
Dean’s head is spinning. Castiel? In love? With him? It’s almost too much to believe. After all of these months of worrying, trying to reconcile his feelings for Castiel with the fact that yes, he likes boobs, and women, and sex with women. After constantly feeling like he was pissing in the wind by actually thinking that the angel reciprocated his feelings, that he could reciprocate his feelings…suddenly it all seems like a waste of time. He wants to laugh, wants to shout but he can’t, so he just grins like an idiot. “He what?” he asks, just to hear those words again.
 
“Loves you. But don’t worry, I put him straight. I told him you weren’t into guys, that you like women, a lot, and that he probably should just forget all of this and just go back to the way things were before.”
 
And suddenly the grin is wiped off Dean’s face. “You told him…you told him to forget it?” 
 
“Yeah and it’s cool, Cas is ok with staying friends.”
 
Dean can feel his face turning red now, heating up as he practically boils with anger. Why does this always happen? As soon as he gets a break, it’s snatched away from underneath him, leaving him on his ass once more. All he can see is Sam’s earnest face smiling at him. ‘He was only trying to help.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘He doesn’t know you like him.’ Then another. Then another. It doesn’t work.
 
“You fucking idiot Sam,” he shouts. “You fucking…what the hell? What did you do that for? Scared you’d be left out again, huh?”
 
“What?” Sam’s eyes are wide, and his mouth is open.
 
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Dean’s so clouded by rage at the moment that he can’t really control what he says. Thoughts are racing through his head at a hundred miles a second, and he’s so blinded by rage that all he can think of is Sam doesn’t want him to be happy. Sam prefers him miserable, because ever since Sam jump started the fucking apocalypse, he seems to thing no-one should be able to find happiness, least of all Dean. Dean who’s been through so much shit, spent 40 years in hell only to be pulled on and thrown headlong into a battle he shouldn’t even be fighting; who’s finally realised he loves someone enough to actually think for a moment they could be happy when all of this bullshit is done.
 
“Your ‘relationship’ with that, that...” he seethes, not wanting to say the bitch’s name, “…went to shit, so now any chance I have of being happy, you walk all over it.”
 
“I don’t…” Sam begins. Dean catches his eye, sees the utter confusion in them and suddenly realises something. Sam has no idea, no idea at all. Why would he? It’s not like Dean’s ever been into guys before. He’s managed to keep his feelings for Castiel all to himself for so many months, mainly because he was freaking out about them and he didn’t want to freak his brother out too. God knows Sam’s had enough to deal with without having a brother who’s going through a damn sexual identity crisis. 
 
Sam continues, “You want to be happy…with Castiel?”
 
“Is there something wrong with that?” It’s the last sting, because Dean can’t be bothered to be angry at Sam anymore. He’s more angry at himself. He looks at Sam. Poor guy looks mortified.
 
“Dean, I’m sorry. I’m really…Man I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
 
Dean sits back down, dejected. “I know. I know you didn’t, Sammy. Why would you? It’s not like I’ve done anything like this before. You didn’t know that you’ve maybe ruined the single most important thing in my life, besides you.” He wants to hit something, hard. Sam has probably ruined the only chance he has ever had of being truly happy, and he did it all because he thought he was helping Dean. The guy does not have an evil bone in his body.
 
And doesn’t that make him want to punch a wall.
 
Sam walks over to him. Dean turns away but he can feel Sam’s hand hovering above his shoulder. He really hopes he doesn’t touch him—he’s not in the mood to be touched right now. Thankfully Sam takes his hand away and puts it by his side.
 
 “Why didn’t you tell him?”
 
The billion-dollar question. Why the hell didn’t he tell him? Because there’s never a good time to say to an angel, who barely has any feelings at all, that you think it would be cool if you and him bumped uglies now and then. That you fantasise about licking him and occasionally humping his leg. Hell, even if Castiel did like him that would be enough to put him off. He gives Sam some half hearted excuse, eyes trained on a piece of threadbare carpet on the floor because he really doesn’t want to look at Sam at the moment.
 
He hears Sam ask him how long he’s felt like this and honestly, he can’t remember. The whorehouse seemed to confirm his feelings, but in a trite way, he guesses he’s always felt like this. Like most of his life he’s just been waiting for someone to come along, not realising they would appear in the shape of a small nerdy angel who wears a trench coat two sizes too big for him, and has no concept of irony.
 
“Dean I…man I’m sorry.” Man, he really wants Sam to just shut up now. It’s done. It can’t be undone. It’s not Sam’s fault he knows but still, he just wants to be alone for a while.
 
“S’ok,” he says dejectedly. “Doesn’t matter now.”
 
Of course it matters. Of course it does, but he’s not going to tell Sam that. He hears Sam take a deep breath. “I’m just going for a soda. You want something?” 
 
Dean shakes his head and shifts back on the bed. He watches Sam leave and as he closes the door, Dean turns around and starts hitting the pillow on the bed. Again and again he punches it, trying to get rid of the tension. Stupid fucking pillow. Stupid fucking motel. Stupid fucking life.
 
 
He sits there for a few minutes, staring at the TV and contemplating throwing it out of the window, when he hears the familiar fluttering of wings. He looks up, and Castiel is standing at the end of the bed, looking worried.
 
“Dean, I came as quickly as I could.” There’s three lines of scratches on his face that are in the process of healing, and dried blood on his trench coat. 
 
“What the hell happened to you?”
 
“Hell hound. Don’t worry, I…er…I took care of it.”
 
Dean’s eyes widened. “Took care of it? Cas you’re supposed to kill it.”
 
Cas’s eyes widen in slight confusion. “I know; that’s what I said.”
 
“What?” So he’s coining phrases now. Awesome.
 
“Where is the danger?”
 
“Danger?” Dean’s wondering if Castiel is finally starting to lose it. All this time being cut off from Heaven, it’s bound to affect him.
 
“Yes, danger. Sam told me you needed me, desperately.”
 
Oh. Sam. Dean can’t help but smile fondly, because this is Sam’s way of trying to patch things up. Stupid, big-hearted Sam.
 
“Cas there’s nothing wrong here. We just had…a misunderstanding. That’s all.”
 
“Misunderstanding?” Castiel tilts his head, and suddenly Dean is acutely aware of his own heart beating loudly.
 
“Yeah, don’t worry, it’s sorted.” 
 
There’s silence for a moment, before Castiel starts to speak again. “Dean…I want to apologise for the present. Sam told me that you…that I…”
 
“It’s fine Cas. I really liked it. Thank you.”
 
“You did? I knew you would.”
 
There. Right there is why Dean loves him. He scoots to the end of the bed, and looks up at Castiel. He can feel his heart beating faster and faster, and somewhere in his head there’s a voice, Sammy’s voice for some reason, screaming ‘do it! Do it!’
 
Something catches his eye. A feather floating gently to the floor. He waves his arms around in an effort to make it float up, and catches it with in his hand. “You’re moulting, you know that? I’ve been finding these suckers all around the place. You ain’t exactly inconspicuous, Cas.”
 
“That’s a shame, because I really thought I was getting the hang of that.” He says it with such an earnest look that Dean can’t help but burst into fits of laughter. It wracks his whole body for about 30 seconds, before dying down. He looks up at Cas, who fixes him with an earnest semi-smile. “So….you like me?” He feels like such a teenager at this point.
 
“Yes, Dean, I do. But I know you want to keep the friendship between us, so I can promise you it will go no further.”
 
Dean shakes himself in an attempt to rid him of the sudden knot that has appeared in his stomach. “And what if…what if I wanted it to.  Go further, I mean. What if I wanted that?” He starts to angle his head up to Castiel, and watches as Castiel slowly leans down towards him, his lips parting slightly.
 
“Then I don’t believe I would be opposed to that. At all.”
 
And that’s it. Suddenly their lips are touching, and they’re kissing. It’s slow and soft at first, almost tentative, before they find a rhythm and suddenly the desperation is there, the months of waiting and longing for this to happen.
 
After a few moments, Dean pulls Castiel down on top of him, wanting to feel more of him. It all happens so quickly after that; or rather, it feels like it happens quickly. The first thing he does is undo Cas’s damn tie, throwing it ceremoniously across the room. Before Dean knows it, Castiel’s sucking on his neck before kissing his way down; their trousers are undone and pushed down to the knees, and they’re rubbing against each other and it feels so good, so right, that Dean wonders what the hell took him so long. He can’t stop kissing him, can’t stop touching him. They rub against each other frantically, hot and heavy and desperate before coming practically in unison, and the look on Castiel’s face seems to say it all for Dean. He wants to see that look of completely blissed-out pleasure on the angel’s face over and over again because the fact that he, Dean Winchester, can do that to him feels fantastic.
 
After a few minutes of rest and heaving breathing, they start again, going slower this time. Dean takes them both in one hand and starts to caress, slowly at first before speeding up. He listens to Castiel’s moans, his heavy breathing and his quiet cries of ‘Dean’ as he gets close once more. Dean can’t help but shut his eyes, moaning ‘Cas’ over and over as they reach orgasm together. Afterwards they lie there, staring at each other in complete fascination.
 
“That was,” Dean says between pants, “Fantastic.”
 
“Yes. Yes it was,” Castiel replies. Dean turns to him, looks at his swollen lips and his messed up hair, and smiles. Yeah, he definitely wants to do that again.
 
He sweeps Castiel’s hair out of his eyes, and smiles. Castiel smiles back at him—small, imperceptible to anyone else but Dean, but a smile nonetheless.
 
“So…you got any plans, Cas?”
 
“Not at the moment. My search is very…frustrating.”
 
“So…why don’t you stick around for a while? You know, stay with us. Me and Sammy could get separate rooms so he wouldn’t have to listen to us…you know. Unless that’s your thing?”
 
Castiel looks at him. “Nah, didn’t think that would be your thing. But you could totally stay, and we could piss Sammy off by being loud. Really loud.”
 
Castiel crinkles his eyes. “I would like that. The part about staying with you, not the part about annoying Sam.”
 
“Prude,” Dean snorts.
 
There’s silence for a few moments, before Dean says, “Only you would pick something like a car part, Cas. I mean, most people pick flowers, or chocolates or something. You have to go pick an air cleaner.”
 
“I thought it would make you happy.”
 
Dean laughs, and entwines his hand with Castiel’s. “Yeah, it did.”
 
Suddenly there’s a loud knock on the door, and he can hear Sammy call ‘Dean!’ loudly before walking in, his hand shielding his eyes.
 
“Hey Sammy.” Dean can’t help the grin that’s plastered across his face.
 
“Hello Sam.”
 
“Long time getting the soda?”
 
“Yeah well, I needed some fresh air, and kinda thought you needed to be alone for a while.” Dean sees Sam smile, and he smiles back affectionately. He taps Castiel on the leg and says, “Cas here says he’s got some time on his hands, so he’s gonna stay with us for a while. That cool with you?”
 
 “Sure.” Sam replies.
 
Dean knows Sam wouldn’t have said ‘no’, even if he’d wanted to. “Great. Then how ‘bout we get some food and get ourselves back on the road, huh?”
 
“Sure.” Sam’s smile gets wider.
 
Dean and Castiel get up off the bed. Castiel searches for his tie, while Dean comes closer to Sam. He knows he must reek of sex, but he doesn’t care. He taps Sam on the shoulder and says, “Thanks man.”
 
“You’re welcome.”
 
Castiel has found his tie, so Dean runs over and helps him put it on. As he looks down at him, he can’t resist placing a kiss on the angel’s lips as he ties the material. ‘Mine’ is all he can think, and it fills him with something he hasn’t felt in a while—happiness.
 
They walk out of the motel room, with Dean shutting the door behind him. He just can’t help one more dig, and says loudly, “Man, I do not want to be the one cleaning those sheets.”
 
He tries not to laugh as Sam catches his shoulder with his hand. “Same rules apply. I do not want to know any details Dean. Not now, not ever.” He’s jealous. Dean can see it in his eyes.
 
“Fine. Just…I think we should get separate rooms from now on. Just while Cas is with us.” 
 
“Agreed.”
 
Yep, totally jealous. And the only way to deal with a jealous Sam is to rub his nose in it. “Oh and Sammy?” He says, and he’s still grinning.
 
“Yeah.”
 
“It was totally awesome.” He smiles. He wants to laugh his head off but he can’t. Gotta play it cool.
 
“Shut up Dean.”
 
Dean smiles, and puts his arm around Cas as they walk to the car. Man, he loves his life sometimes.

 
 
Current Mood: dorkydorky
 
 
( 34 comments — Leave a comment )
Kevin Jonesmulder200 on February 15th, 2010 09:33 pm (UTC)
LOL! This was awesome! I love the exploration of Dean's feelings from jealousy to anger to happiness.
Carmexgirlcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:04 pm (UTC)
Yay thankyou! I think there's always room for happiness with Dean--sometimes he has to go through a bit of angsty jealously first :)
Stefannybellakitse on February 15th, 2010 09:57 pm (UTC)
yay!! glad you did Dean's POV!!
Carmexgirl: Castiel halocarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:05 pm (UTC)
Yay! I'm kinda glad I did it too!
CherryShadowZ: Cas Mouthcherryshadowz on February 15th, 2010 10:57 pm (UTC)
Oh yay! I love that we got to see it from Dean's POV, it was cool to see his explosion and frustration built up in this way. <3
Carmexgirl: Castiel sneaky angelcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:06 pm (UTC)
Yeah, I wanted him a bit frustrated, then a lot frustrated, then finally happy so I hope I pulled that off. Silly Dean!
Gina Marie: dean/cas be in my bunksycophantastic on February 15th, 2010 11:12 pm (UTC)
Yay!! Love love love this! Jealous!Dean is always so much fun, and I adore Sam as a match-maker. It brings the brothers together AND it brings Dean and Cas together. Good deal!

You must write more, much much more during the hiatus. I'm liable to go crazy during this second "off season" so... please, help maintain my sanity!
Carmexgirl: Dean Castiel fishingcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:08 pm (UTC)
Ha ha I love that icon! Um...I'll try my best to help with your sanity during the hiatus (which sucks big time!)...my output is 'sporadic' but hey, I'll try harder I promise :D
moncoeursouvremoncoeursouvre on February 15th, 2010 11:16 pm (UTC)
Just read both fics from both Sam and Dean's point of view. They are both so sweet.

I luv it when cas mentions he took care of the hell hounds and it's Dean who thinks he means it literally.
Carmexgirlcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:09 pm (UTC)
Thanks--I'm so glad you liked them both. You don't really need to read the first one, but I think it works so much better if you do so I'm pleased you did. Glad you liked the little switcharound with Dean and Cas too--I just love them together and their little misunderstandings sometimes.
abbylover23abbylover23 on February 15th, 2010 11:35 pm (UTC)
omg you got another taking care of the hell hound joke in there- you are totally awesome. YAYS!!!

this was great with Dean trying to work out his own feelings and then his POV on Sam and Cas' secret angel meetings and then him telling Cas how he really fetl, all awesome! <3
Carmexgirl: Castiel colourscarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:11 pm (UTC)
Hee yeah I thought I'd crowbar one in there somewhere! Glad you appreciated it :) Thanks for reading!
Passive Aggressive Heterophobejuanitatequila on February 15th, 2010 11:36 pm (UTC)
OMG YAY YOU WROTE IT!! :D :D :D

Like most of his life he’s just been waiting for someone to come along, not realising they would appear in the shape of a small nerdy angel who wears a trench coat two sizes too big for him, and has no concept of irony.

This line was just so adorable!! Oh Dean. :3
Carmexgirlcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:12 pm (UTC)
AND YOU READ IT1 YAY! :D :D :D

Thanks for reading--I liked that line too, so I'm pleased you found it adorable. Oh Dean indeed :D
EdwardGirl11: Bert and Ernieedwardgirl11 on February 16th, 2010 02:39 am (UTC)
This one made me smile almost bigger than Sam's POV. (I think Cas is the reason for the bigger smile. He's just so cute when clueless.) So so happy you decided to share Dean's side of things with us. *runs off to read again*
Carmexgirlcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:14 pm (UTC)
I love clueless!Cas too--he so adorable when he's clueless. I'm really glad you liked Dean's POV--thanks so much for reading!
(Deleted comment)
Carmexgirl: Castiel will save mecarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:15 pm (UTC)
Wow thank you! I've always been a bit wary of my characterisation being 'off' so you saying that has really made my day. Thank you!
arabella_warabella_w on February 16th, 2010 04:25 am (UTC)
yay!! Dean's POV!!!

I was really waiting for this part. Poor Dean it was a really hard time to deal with the fact that his babby brother and his Angel had secret meetings.

Great done!
Carmexgirl: Castiel sneaky angelcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:16 pm (UTC)
I know. Dean is totally the jealous type and very inclined to think the worst in any given situation. It worked out ok for him in the end thoguh--sexy times with your favourite angel can't be bad!
Aliacastiella on February 16th, 2010 06:29 am (UTC)
\O/

*flails*

I love this! You are SO in Dean's head. I love the juxtaposition of his POV with Sam's. Great job!!!
Carmexgirl: Castiel confusedcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:17 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I'm so pleased you liked it. I had a lot to live up to with the other fic, so I'm over the moon you like this one as well. :D
wolfrider89: my friendwolfrider89 on February 16th, 2010 01:05 pm (UTC)
OMG yes! Yes! Dean's POV! Have been looking forward to this so much! And it was awesome! Poor Dean being all jealous. I loved how you portrayed him, and of course I'm very happy Sam was in it so much. Gotta love Sammy. Even when he does screw everything up. :D Thank you for happiness!
Carmexgirlcarmexgirl on February 16th, 2010 07:19 pm (UTC)
Wahey--Im really glad I didn't disappoint you! Sam had to be in this one so much--I do love Sam, and I think he's such a big part of Dean that he can't be missed out, screw ups or no screw ups. Thanks for such a lovely comment!
blue_flame88: dancing Stitchblue_flame88 on February 16th, 2010 09:50 pm (UTC)
Ohyay! \o/

I'm so glad you did this version. It's sweet and lovely, and fills me with the warm fuzzies. :D
Carmexgirlcarmexgirl on February 17th, 2010 07:20 pm (UTC)
Wheee I'm glad I could bring the warm fuzziness!

Thanks for reading!
latvela: future cas deanlatvela on February 16th, 2010 11:08 pm (UTC)
Yes! You wrote Dean's POV of this! :D

“Hell hound. Don’t worry, I…er…I took care of it.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Took care of it? Cas you’re supposed to kill it.”

Cas’s eyes widen in slight confusion. “I know; that’s what I said.”


Hahaha! Love this reversal of Cas and Sam's dialogue! Cas learns fast, lol!

This is just as adorable as the first one. And Dean waving to get the feather to float up is such a cute detail! They're so adorable together and poor Sam is as sweet as ever!
Carmexgirl: Castiel confusedcarmexgirl on February 17th, 2010 07:22 pm (UTC)
Cas does indeed learn fast. I wonder what else he will pick up quickly... ;D

I love Dean and Cas--they ARE adorable together, and I always love Sam in the background. I'm itching for more Sam and Cas buddy fics!
Syrinthsyrinth on February 17th, 2010 01:59 am (UTC)
Both of these fics were great. It's nice to have the dual view.
Carmexgirl: Castiel colourscarmexgirl on February 17th, 2010 07:23 pm (UTC)
Thanks--I'm realy glad you read both of them. Although it's not essential, I do think this one works better in the contaxt of the first one. Thanks for reading!
dragonrose36dragonrose36 on February 18th, 2010 06:25 pm (UTC)
I loves me some jealous!Dean.
Carmexgirlcarmexgirl on February 18th, 2010 08:02 pm (UTC)
Me too! Glad you liked it!
goldenusagigoldenusagi on February 19th, 2010 10:43 pm (UTC)
Poor Dean, all jealous that Castiel keeps talking to Sam alone! These were really cute!
copycatloki: Castielcopycatloki on August 24th, 2011 12:21 pm (UTC)
Ah, the beauty that is jealous!Dean...I liked reading it from his POV. A very cute story. 8D
preparing for when the velociraptors come: [ art: golden girl ]calicokat on January 30th, 2013 04:18 pm (UTC)
Additionally very satisfying. ;o
( 34 comments — Leave a comment )