Archive of Our Own ^beta

CHEAP MOTEL
By Senashenta

[Southcrest Inn, 129 Cactus Drive, room 7]

Cas looked at the brief instructions on his phone and then up at the motel in front of him. It wasn’t that he was skeptical, he knew the Winchesters chose cheap, often run-down motels to keep a low profile, it was just that the place was so very run-down. It looked like it shouldn’t even be in business anymore. Like it would blow over at the slightest breeze.

But the neon sign out from was blinking Southcrest Inn: Vacancies and there were a couple of cars in the parking lot, so Cas just hummed to himself, hiked his backpack up on his shoulder and made his way closer, down the row of rooms until he reached the one with the number seven haphazardly tacked to the door.

Cas had been on a Greyhound bus—or, rather, a series of Greyhound busses—for the last twenty-four hours. He had left Jacksonville late Thursday night, basically sneaking out of the house with nothing but a note left for his father that he was taking off for the weekend and would be back Monday night. His father wouldn’t be angry that he had ducked out for the weekend, since it was the middle of summer break and his first semester at Florida State didn’t start until September, but Cas really hadn’t wanted any safety lectures.

Now, he knocked on the door to room number seven almost hesitantly—then knocked again, louder, a minute later. When he listened carefully, he could hear movement inside, the frantic shuffling of items, and smiled to himself. He was just about to knock a third time when the door flew open and an arm shot out—a hand grabbed at the front of his shirt and he was yanked into the room, the door slammed shut behind him.

Then his backpack was pulled out of his grasp and discarded to the side, and he was shoved back against the now-closed door, a body pressing close to him and lips finding his own, kissing him hard and deep and passionately. Cas just allowed it all, kissing back in kind until a long moment later when he was finally allowed to breathe again.

Cas smiled widely at Dean. “Hi.”

Dean grinned back. “Hi, yourself.”

Cas pushed him back to arms’ length to look him over: same ripped blue jeans, same grey t-shirt, same flannel, same pendant, same adorably tousled hair, same green eyes. Nothing had changed. Good. “You’re still wearing your bracelet—ah. Cuff.” He observed, obviously pleased.

“Of course I am.” Dean ran his hand over the wrist cuff in question with a smile, “you gave it to me. It’s one of the few special things I own. I only take it off to shower.” And then, to explain; “don’t wanna ruin the leather.”

“Makes sense.” Cas’s smile widened and his grip on Dean tightened slightly—then he pulled the other man back against himself, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and tugging him in for another kiss. “I missed you.”

“Mmhm.” Dean agreed against his lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pushing Cas back against the door again. He brought his hands up to rest by Cas’s hips, kneading there restlessly before sliding his palms up the other man’s sides to his chest and farther to push Cas’s trench coat down off his shoulders.

Cas shrugged out of it easily, leaving it to fall to the floor. Then he let his hands come down to shove at the flannel overshirt Dean was wearing. “Off.”

Dean let go of him long enough to shrug out of it, then returned to letting his hands rub up and down Cas’s sides—then under his shirt, fingers dragging against his skin. Cas let his head fall back against the door and Dean dove in to kiss along his exposed throat immediately.

A soft groan and Cas swallowed thickly. “Dean, come on. Can we at least find a bed?”

“The bed here is shit.” Dean muttered, still mouthing along Cas’s neck, “prepare to be disappointed.”

“I guarantee you nothing about this will be disappointing.” Cas replied with a chuckle, even as Dean’s arms snaked around his waist and the older man pulled him away from the door, backing farther into the room, over toward the bed in question.

Cas followed along easily, ducking in for another kiss as they moved—then yelped out a surprised noise when Dean’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he tumbled backward, pulling Cas along with him. Cas landed on top of him with a laugh and ducked his head to kiss at the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean squirmed, trying to work them farther up the mattress with little success.

“Dude, get off me so we can do this right.”

“I feel like that sentence entirely contradicts itself, Dean.”

Still, Cas climbed off Dean and watched the other man shimmy his way into the proper spot on the bed before climbing back on himself, crawling over to lean over Dean for another kiss. Dean just grabbed at him and pulled Cas down on top of himself—and Cas threw a leg over his boyfriend, settling straddling his hips. He sat back and smiled down at Dean.

“This is much better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice came out the slightest bit strained and his hands rested on Cas’s thighs, kneading there restlessly. “Much better.” But then he grinned and added, “you know what they call this? The full cowgirl.” Followed by a pause before; “cowboy, I guess.”

Cas blinked down at him and just leaned down to kiss him again. “You’re talking nonsense. You often do that when we have sex.”

“I do not.” Dean protested against his lips, “you just don’t get the reference.”

“That is entirely possible.” The younger man agreed. He began tugging at Dean’s t-shirt, pushing it up as much as he could. “Take this off.”

Dean didn’t complain, instead just leaning up and tugging his shirt off, tossing it to the side before looking at Cas expectantly—Cas chuckled and pulled his own shirt over his head, getting rid of it as well, and Dean’s hands slid away from his thighs, wandering to his abdomen, then further up his torso, just feeling out his skin warmly.

Cas, meanwhile, reached to undo Dean’s jeans—though he couldn’t exactly get them off the older man sitting on him as he was. So, he lifted up onto his knees and then eased away, ending up sitting on the bed beside Dean instead. Dean absolutely pouted at him, and it was absolutely adorable.

“Just take your pants off.” Cas told him, amused.

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly shucked out of his pants and boxers, then waited while Cas finally shifted over to stand up off the bed, kicked his shoes off (finally) and then got out of his own jeans and boxers before turning around and crawling back onto the mattress, up to settle half-over Dean, leaning down to kiss him once more.

The older man brought one hand up to cup the side of Cas’s neck, holding there as he deepened the kiss—and at the same time slid his other hand down to wrap his fingers around Cas’s half-hard cock. Cas muffled a moan against Dean’s lips, hardening up the rest of the way quickly, rocking his hips into the touch. Dean gave a soft chuckle. “Just from a little touch like that?”

Cas bit at Dean’s lower lip gently and muttered, “it’s been seven months, Dean.” He had missed Dean’s touch. His own just wasn’t as… satisfactory anymore. “Did you bring stuff? Because if you didn’t, I did.”

“You mean condoms and lube?” Dean let his head fall back with a laugh and regarded Cas with obvious amusement. “Of course I did.”

“You should go get them now, Dean.” Cas rocked his hips against Dean’s hand again but followed that up by reaching down to push it away from him. He shifted back once more, this time rolling onto his back beside where Dean was laying. He looked sideways at Dean and raised his eyebrows, waiting.

While Dean hurried to get out of the bed and across the room to the dresser, Cas slid one of his hands down to stroke at his own cock, back arched slightly and breath starting to come faster. From across the room, he heard Dean curse and Cas gave a breathless laugh at the sound but didn’t stop what he was doing.

Barely a few seconds later and the mattress was dipping again as Dean climbed back into the bed. Cas didn’t open his eyes or stop stroking himself off until Dean settled over him and pulled Cas’s hand away, replacing it with his own. And it really felt so much better that way—with Dean doing the touching instead of himself.

“You’re still hot as hell.” Dean muttered against Cas’s throat, “don’t know how I got so damned lucky.”

“I—ah—feel the same way about you.” Cas gasped out—and turned his head to kiss Dean, hot and wanting, before breaking off with a moan. “God, Dean… come on…!”

But Dean was way ahead of him, already letting go of Cas’s cock and grabbing for the lubricant, slathering it on the fingers of his right hand and then tossing the tube onto the bedside table where it would be out of the way. Then he patted a hand against one of Cas’s hips, urging him to part his legs—which Cas did, easily and without question, head back and already breathing hard.

When Dean pushed the first finger into Cas’s body, Cas hissed, nearly flinched, and Dean paused, glancing up at him to comment, “you really haven’t been with anyone else since I left, have you?”

Cas gave him a look that Dean returned with a cheeky grin. “Of course not. You know I would never…” And then; “it’s just practically new again after all this time, give me a minute to adjust, Dean.”

Dean eased his finger deeper even as he slid up to look Cas in the eyes. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you and I are exclusive. Just… sometimes it’s hard to believe that someone like you would wait around for someone like me. Especially for so long.” Leaning down, he kissed Cas softly, even as he began moving his hand, gently, carefully; “I haven’t been with anyone else, either, just in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering,” Cas offered a little smile, his hips shifting slightly and one hand sliding down to palm at his own cock again. “I know you’re faithful. I trust you—ah!” A small gasp when Dean barely grazed his prostate and Cas let his head fall back, “okay, yeah, I’d almost forgotten about that…!”

“Your prostate?” Dean asked smugly.

Cas nodded, head still back—then gasped again, loudly this time, when Dean pushed a second finger into him and immediately eased deep to drag the pads of his fingers across the nerve bundle in question. Cas grabbed at the sheets with his free hand and moaned, the faint discomfort from the stretching completely forgotten now. “God, you didn’t forget where it is!”

“I have an awesome memory.” Dean chuckled, and leaned down to mouth along Cas’s exposed throat, even as he continued stretching him out, purposefully rubbing against his prostate as much as possible.

“You really do, I—oh, God, Dean!” Cas’s voice came out high and loud and it made Dean laugh against his skin. The younger man arched and panted and finally brought both hands up to grab at Dean almost desperately, “I’m ready—I’m ready! Please, Dean, just… I’m ready…!”

Dean actually had the gall to smirk and ask, “are you sure? It has been seven months…”

Cas had to bite his own lip hard to muffle a too-loud shout when Dean followed that up by a particularly good push against his sweet spot. He sucked in a shaky breath and smacked one hand against Dean’s side. “Dean, please just—fuck me already!”

Cas wasn’t known to swear very much, especially the more serious words like “fuck”, and Dean actually blinked down at him in surprise for just a moment before pulling his hand away, licking his lips absently and reaching for a condom. He ripped it open and rolled it onto his own straining dick while Cas attempted to collect himself a little, head still back and breathing hard.

Once he was ready, Dean settled himself between Cas’s legs and reached to pull Cas into a kiss, even as he pushed his cock into the other man. Cas moaned against Dean’s mouth and Dean gave a low groan in response. The two of them were still for a long moment, just breathing together—and then Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s hips and his hands slid up to grip at the back of Dean’s shoulders. “Move, Dean, ah…!”

Dean didn’t need to be told again. He ducked in to kiss Cas once more and rolled his hips, fucking himself into the younger man’s body and rocking his hips to start up a rhythm, his thrusts deep and hard—and perfect, as far as Cas was concerned; but then he didn’t think this could be anything but perfect.

For his part, Cas just dug his fingers into Dean’s back and met the older man’s thrusts with the rocking of his own hips, hot, kinetic and just this side of rough. They fucked deeply, thoroughly, in a totally full-bodied way that easily conveyed just how long they had been apart, how much they had missed each other—they kissed and touched and moved together with obvious longing.

The shitty motel bed held up, though it creaked and groaned loudly under them. It would have been comical in any other situation. For now, they both ignored it. Dean ducked to bury his face in the crook of Cas’s neck and Cas threw his head back against the pillows, gasping for air, dragging his nails down Dean’s back. Dean hissed out a curse but didn’t stop moving, biting down on Cas’s shoulder just a little more than gently in response, totally lost in the moment.

It couldn’t last forever, though. Eventually Dean eased a hand between them to start jerking at Cas’s cock along with his thrusts, and after that it was only another couple moments before Cas was coming, arching and tensing with a sharp cry, still gripping hard at Dean’s back.

When Cas tensed up, he clamped down on Dean inside him and the older man gave a grunt at the feeling, his movements getting sharper and jerky, falling out of rhythm until he tumbled over the edge as well, coming with a low moan, muffled into Cas’s shoulder. Another couple of short thrusts, almost cursory, and Dean slumped over Cas to pant by his ear with a grin. “I, ah… I definitely missed that.”

Cas gave a breathless laugh. “Me too.”

“…I think you scratched my back up.”

“Well, you bit me, so let’s call it even.”

“Mmm… yeah, I guess I can go with that plan.”

“I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had. We’ve ever had.”

“It must have been, you haven’t even told me to get out of you yet.”

“…Dean.”

“Okay, okay.”

--
--

Some time later, Cas found himself laying on his stomach with his arms crossed under his head, smiling at Dean, who was laying beside him, propped on his side with his head in his hand. His other hand, meanwhile, stroked up and down Cas’ bare back, just petting along his spine gently, making Cas arch into the feeling. “I told you the bed would be disappointing.” Dean commented idly.

Cas laughed. “Maybe a little.” He conceded, “but everything else was perfect.”

“Yeah, it really was, wasn’t it?” Dean continued petting along his back, the touches gentle and affectionate. Eventually he dipped to touch his fingers along the scars that striped across Cas’ ribs and commented, “these healed up nicely.”

“Mm.” Cas agreed. The wounds the jorogumo had given him had left behind two long parallel scars that ran along his ribs, from the front of his ribcage almost to his spine. They didn’t hurt anymore, though, and would fade out naturally over time. “I’m… still trying to figure out what to tell my Father.” His father hadn’t seen the marks yet, miraculously, but it was probably an inevitability, all things considered. Cas didn’t know what to tell him that didn’t involve fighting giant spider-ladies with his Hunter boyfriend. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“I don’t know, Cas, I never have to explain my scars to family members. This is outside my expertise.”

“I was afraid of that.” A tiny frown, then; “are you still angry?”

Dean looked at him for a long moment before admitting, “a little. You got hurt for me, Cas. You never should have been there.”

“But I couldn’t let you go in alone.” Cas murmured, blue eyes sharp and serious. “Without backup. That’s… you could have really gotten hurt, Dean, and the thought of that…”

“But you did get hurt!” Dean insisted, his hand resting over the scars now, kneading there restlessly; “I thought you were going to die for a minute, do you have any idea what that did to me?!”

Cas winced, glancing away. He knew. Dean loved him, and if he had died the other man would never have been the same. “I—” He began, then swallowed before finishing softly, “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I know you are, just… seeing the scars again is…” The older man trailed off, then pushed forward, shoving Cas onto his back and settling over him, a comfortable weight. Cas blinked up at him before lifting his arms to wrap them around Dean’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. When they broke apart again, Dean frowned at him and muttered, “it scared the shit out of me, Cas. Promise me you’ll never do anything stupid like that again.”

“You already made me promise that, remember?”

“Promise again.”

Cas tilted his head and kissed Dean again, just gently, then offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile; “I promise.”

Dean looked down at him appraisingly. Then he just ducked his head to kiss along Cas’s collar bone, the entire thing dismissed for now, and asked against the other man’s skin, “so, what’s with the trench coat?”, changing the topic entirely.

Cas hummed and let his head fall back, enjoying the kisses. “My Father got it for me for my birthday. I actually kind of like it.”

“You’re a weird guy.”

“I know.”

“What else did you get for your birthday?”

“Jody baked a cake,” Cas shrugged and dragged one hand up to thread his fingers into Dean’s hair, “and Charlie made me a bracelet.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when we were taking your clothes off,” Dean grinned up at him, “it’s nice.”

“They’re protection stones, she said.”

“Black tourmaline and black obsidian, mm.” He had gone back to kissing across Cas’s chest, now, the words a little muffled.

“How can you tell the difference?” Cas lifted his arm to look at the bracelet in question; it was made up of medium-sized, round, black gemstones with little blue colored spacer beads in-between—the same color as his eyes. “They all just look black to me.”

Dean shrugged. “A lifetime of training in all things spooky.”

“I guess that’s true.” Cas conceded. Dean paused to lick over one of his nipples and Cas arched into it with a soft gasp, hand flying back to Dean’s hair; “and—ah—Garth got me a kitten, he says because I look grumpy and ‘you can’t have a kitten and be grumpy.’ My Father actually let me keep it, he even got me an automatic litter box and feeder for it. That’s the only reason I could come meet up with you, because I know it’s still being fed and cleaned up after. Its’ name is Marshmallow.” Then, to clarify; “I did not name the kitten, Garth did.”

“Cats make me sneeze, but I’m sure it’s adorable.” Dean chuckled.

“Actually, Marshmallow also has a grumpy face.” Cas frowned a little, “I don’t know what Garth was thinking.”

This time Dean laughed, dropping his head to bury his face in Cas’s chest. “You’re the actual best. I know we already covered this, but you have no idea how much I missed you, Cas.”

“Jo got me a gift certificate for Magickal Things,” Cas continued on, ignoring Dean’s little outburst for now; “and Kevin got me a really interesting book on metaphysics.” Then he added, “I also got a message from you on my birthday, that was my favorite thing.” He smiled when Dean looked up at him again; “I missed you, too, Dean. So much.”

Dean leaned up for a kiss. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your birthday.”

Cas just hummed against Dean’s lips. “It’s okay. I understand. You were busy, and your job is important.”

A sigh from Dean. “I’m glad you have friends to keep you company.”

“It can be nice.” Cas admitted, “except when they want me to do social things, like go to parties. Charlie is particularly bad for that.”

A snort. “I can’t even imagine you at a party.”

“That’s what I try to tell them, but they are being purposefully deaf.”

“Hey, Cas?”

“Mm?”

Dean nuzzled into Cas’ neck just under his jaw and murmured, “I love you.”

A soft smile. “I love you, too, Dean.”

“Seven months is a long time.”

“A very long time, yes. We shouldn’t let it go so long before meeting up again.”

“This was the soonest I could get away from Dad and Sam,” Dean sighed and kissed down along Cas’ neck to his shoulder, nipping there lightly just to make him squirm. He smirked to himself when it worked.

“I know,” Cas shifted under him, one hand sliding up to rub along his side, “I didn’t even tell my Father I was coming here. I just… left. He’s going to be disappointed in me.”

Dean was working his way downward again, kissing over Cas’ clavicle to lick across a nipple once more, making the younger man gasp. “You’re technically an adult now,” he pointed out, “you can take off on your own for a weekend, it’s fine.”

“I think… ah.” Cas let his head fall back, arching against Dean’s mouth as it continued southward. “I think my Father will see it differently… especially… especially if he finds out I left to meet up with you for—for sex…!” Dean was sucking a little bruise just under his navel, and Cas grabbed at the other man’s hair for purchase, “God, Dean…!”

“You’re allowed to get laid once in a while, Cas,” Dean chuckled. He had paused to regard the small bruise he’d pulled up with self-satisfaction and ducked in to lick across it lightly. Cas slumped a bit during this apparent reprieve—only to gasp and arch a moment later when Dean’s tongue swiped over the head of his already straining dick.

This wasn’t something they had done often, yet—oral sex. Not that they didn’t both enjoy it, they just tended not to go for blowjobs when they could have the real thing. Dean had only gone down on him once before, and Cas knew he had never been with any other men that way.

But what Dean lacked in experience, in this case, he made up for in enthusiasm—he licked up along the underside of Cas’s dick, then let the tip slide past his lips as he began to suck, easing deeper as he went until he had all of Cas’s cock in his mouth and Cas was trying desperately not to writhe under him, pulling at his hair without even meaning to.

With his mouth full, Dean just grunted at the hair pulling—but allowed it, instead focusing on what he was doing, beginning to bob his head, sucking up and down Cas’s cock, swirling his tongue against the head when he was pulled off nearly all the way before sinking back down again, as deep as he could go without choking.

Dean may not have given many blowjobs in his time, but he’d received his fair share, and he really did have an awesome memory, it was true. Now he worked Cas over like a professional, slick and messy and leaving the younger man gasping for air and fighting hard against the urge to thrust himself even deeper into Dean’s plush mouth.

Instead, he brought one hand up to muffle himself a bit and pulled even harder at Dean’s hair—which finally got Dean to pull off his cock just long enough to cough out, “we’ve talked about the hair pulling thing, Cas”—and then he just dove back in, gulping Cas down and continuing to suck him off with obvious enthusiasm. Cas gasped out an apology and loosened his grip on Dean’s hair.

But his climax was building steadily, and it was only another couple of minutes before Cas came with a shout, throwing his head back and tugging at Dean’s hair again, pulling as he panted breathlessly—and then immediately released Dean to fumble for the beside table where the lube had been previously discarded, grabbing the tube with shaky fingers and shoving it down in Dean’s direction.

Dean looked up at him, still pulling off his cock, swallowing and licking his lips, and made a surprised noise. “Are you sure? You just—”

“I am fully aware that I just.” Cas replied, still breathing hard, “but you haven’t yet, and I want you inside me.”

“But—”

“Dean, please.”

Dean’s expression shifted from surprise to amusement, and he quickly reached to nick the lube from Cas’s hand. “We’re gonna be too exhausted to even go out for food later, at this rate.”

“I am completely okay with that.” Cas dropped his head back onto the pillow again, adjusting himself when Dean nudged at him to get his legs up and then swallowing a too-loud moan when the older man prodded at him gently with slicked-up fingers before just sliding two into him immediately, pushing deep with no preamble. He was still loose from earlier, apparently.

Good. That was good. Because—

Cas pushed up abruptly, sitting and reaching to shove Dean over onto his back. Dean went down with a squawk and some slight flailing, but landed with a laugh, grinning while he watched Cas sling a leg over him and settle straddling his hips. He brought his hands up to rest against Cas’s thighs and swallowed slightly. “So, this is gonna be new.”

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, then; “is it okay?”

“More than okay.” Dean continued grinning up at him… then groaned softly when Cas shifted in his lap. “Ah, Cas…”

Dean was painfully, obviously hard under him, though Cas was still recovering from coming just a couple of minutes before. Still. He could do this. So, Cas just licked his lips absently and lifted up onto his knees, reaching down to hold Dean’s cock steady before lining up and lowering himself onto it slowly. There was some stretching involved, but it was mostly a pleasant burn as he sank down over Dean with a low, breathy moan.

Once he was properly seated in Dean’s lap again, Cas took a moment, eyes closed and hands braced on Dean’s abdomen, feeling the unsteady way the older man was breathing. Dean was watching him, green gaze heated and wanting, hands kneading at Cas’s thighs restlessly.

After a brief pause, Cas opened his own eyes again, bit at his lower lip lightly, and started moving, rocking his hips in little, careful movements to begin with, testing the waters. Dean huffed out a groan but didn’t stop watching him, positively enraptured by what he was seeing. “God, Cas, you are…”

Cas’s brows drew together slightly, and he sighed out a moan, starting to rock his hips faster, more urgently, loving the feeling of Dean inside him. “I’m what…?”

“Incredible.” Dean groaned the words, and rocked his hips up against Cas’s gently, barely more than a nudge, still letting Cas set the pace despite the urge to fuck up into the younger man harder, faster. “You’re incredible.”

“So are… mmh… so are you, though… ah…!”  Cas was hard again, now, too, and shifted himself a bit to start rolling his hips instead of rocking them, lifting up on his knees a little on the forward and dropping down on the back—and suddenly Dean was moaning, having trouble keeping his eyes open to watch Cas’s movements over him.

For his part, Cas was starting to pant now, kneading his hands against Dean’s abdomen as he continued moving, his own cock throbbing against his stomach. Dean just continued holding tight to Cas’s thighs and started thrusting his hips up into Cas to meet Cas’s drops downward. Cas threw his head back with a cry and all Dean wanted to do was bite along the other man’s neck. He resisted the urge to pull Cas down and do just that.

Seeing Cas like this, completely unrestrained, entirely debauched, was almost more than Dean could take—he finally had to shut his eyes and mentally count to ten, even as he was cursing under his breath, still fucking up into Cas, because if he didn’t? He was going to come immediately and end things far too soon.

Cas’s hands finally slid against Dean’s skin, up to brace against his chest instead so he was leaning over the older man—and Dean moved his own hands to grab at Cas’s hips, fingers digging in, liable to leave little purple bruises in their wake. The motel bed was loudly protesting their movements this time, but they ignored it entirely, the creaking just mixed in with their panted moans and groans.

Arms beginning to shake slightly, Cas continued fucking himself on Dean’s cock, hard and hot, gasping out little moans with every exhale, eyes closed and fingers gripping hard against Dean’s chest… until he moved one hand down to fist his own aching dick and start to stroke, jerking himself off in time with their rhythm. It was tricky to get everything lined up, at first, but he figured out the timing quickly.

Dean had opened his eyes again, just in time to moan out a curse at the sight, and dug his nails into Cas’s hips, redoubling his thrusts up into the younger man. “Shit—Cas—!"

Cas nodded his head in agreement, mostly mutely, panting, still stroking himself and close—so close.

When he finally came, it was with a bitten-out curse, spilling sticky come all across Dean’s abdomen. But instead of collapsing immediately, Cas pushed himself back up to a proper seated position and continued rolling his hips along with Dean, panting as one hand came up to swipe his own hair back off his forehead. He was trying to catch his breath but still fucking himself on Dean’s cock, so it was proving to be a little difficult to get the oxygen.

Dean just licked his lips absently. He was so close himself that watching Cas sit back up and go right back to riding him was enough to shove him over the edge after another brief moment. He grabbed even harder at Cas’s hips to hold him still and came deep inside the other man with a low moan.

They were both still for a few seconds after that before Dean collapsed back and Cas slumped down onto him, forehead pressing into the middle of Dean’s chest. “I think…” He panted, half-muffled, “we… forgot… the condom.”

“We, ah… definitely did.” Dean rubbed one hand down Cas’s back, still breathing hard himself. “It felt fantastic… but…”

Cas nodded, his hair mussing against Dean’s chest, and after another moment he pushed himself up and lifted off of Dean, rolling to the side to sprawl out next to him instead. “Like I told you… I haven’t been with anyone else… like, ever… so…” He turned his head to look at Dean, then shuffled to tuck himself into the older man’s side. “I know you don’t… you’re not comfortable with… I mean. I know the condom thing is important to you. I’m sorry.”

Dean adjusted to let Cas settle against him, wrapping his arm around him and squeezing gently. “I think… it’s okay.” He allowed after a brief pause, then; “we’re exclusive, and I trust you. And it’s way too late now, so. There’s that.” Tipping his head, he pressed a kiss to Cas’s forehead. “No regrets with you, Cas. That’s what I’ve decided.”

“No regrets.” Cas repeated in a murmur. “Definitely.”

“Mmmmmm…!” Dean stretched a little and then trailed his fingers through the mess of come on his abdomen before bringing them up to lick at them almost absently, “so now that you’ve thoroughly fucked my brains out, how about we get cleaned up and go out for some food?”

“I think technically you were still doing the, ah… fucking.” Cas was back to hesitating over that word, much to Dean’s amusement. He watched Dean licking at his fingers almost curiously but didn’t say anything. “But yes, that sounds like a good plan to me.”

Dean didn’t move right away, eyes drifting to the ceiling—and then he grinned. “That was unbelievably hot, Cas.”

Cas shifted against his side. “I don’t know what got into me.” He muttered.

“Besides me?”

“Dean.”

“Joking, joking.” Dean rubbed a hand along Cas’s side and tipped his head to smile at him, “seriously though, I can’t believe I ever got so damn lucky. You’re smart and you’re sexy, and you love me for some reason…”

“For all the reasons.” Cas corrected him.

A laugh. “I feel the same way about you.”

“I know.” The younger man tilted his head to drop a kiss by Dean’s jaw, then pushed himself to sit up, stifling a little yawn at the same time. He’d only been there a short while and he’d already racked up three orgasms, soon he would have to take a nap—or just keep going until he just flat-out fainted. That actually wasn’t an entirely unappealing option, all things considered. Now Cas just looked down at Dean and asked, “we’re getting cleaned up for food, right? If this is going to keep happening for the next two days we’re going to need our strength.”

A chuckle and Dean grinned up at him, “you have a point, there, Cas. You definitely have a point.”

--
--

There was a diner just down the street, Phil’s, that the motel manager had apparently recommended to Dean when he had checked in the night before. Phil’s reminded Cas a lot of Maggie’s from back home in Jacksonville, minus the jukebox. It was clean, somewhat tastefully decorated, and had a typical diner menu—at least according to Dean. Cas wasn’t as up on his diner food as the other man, so he just took his word for it.

They both ordered burgers and fries. Cas ordered a cola and Dean splurged on a chocolate milkshake. He asked if they had pie and was mildly disappointed to be told that they were currently sold out; apparently it was popular.

“I’ll give you something better than pie when we get back to the motel.” Cas told him finally, when Dean continued to pout over it. Dean’s mouth immediately tilted into a smirk and Cas rolled his eyes, but allowed, “as long as you don’t steal all my fries this time.”

When their food arrived, they were both thrilled to discover that Phil’s had absolutely fabulous burgers, and not too bad fries, either. This time it wasn’t just Dean that ate with gusto, Cas nearly wolfed his food down as well, practically starving after the past few hours. Dean was privately amused at the sight—and at the reasons he knew were behind it.

“Do you still get that ringing in your ears?” Dean asked around a bite of burger. “Tin… whatever.”

“Tinnitus.” Cas looked up from his fries with his eyebrows pinched together slightly. “And yes. That’s what the doctors call it, anyway. From hitting my head. But it sounds more like… voices, whispering. To me. But I can’t quite make out what they’re saying.” A frown and he sighed, “when I told my Father, he said it was angels talking to me. Called it Angel Radio. I think he thought he was being funny, but…”

“You didn’t get the ha-ha.” Dean finished for him.

“Exactly,” Cas agreed, flicking a fry across his plate. He shrugged and took another large bite of his burger, almost finished it already. “It comes and goes,” He continued, mouth half-full, “so it’s not so bad, but it’s really annoying when it is around. Almost painful sometimes. Not something to joke about.”

“You know Chuck means well, right? He probably just doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he jokes.”

“I know. That’s why I haven’t said anything to him.”

Dean took a drink of his milkshake and asked, “did the doctors say, is there anything they can do about it?”

Cas shook his head and shoved a couple of fries in his mouth. He was finally starting to slow down on the food, though. “Mm-mm,” He made a soft negative noise, “once you’ve got tinnitus, you’re pretty much stuck with it. Apparently, you can take antidepressants, anti-anxiety medication or sometimes antihistamines to make it more bearable, but I don’t want…” He shifted in his seat and shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of possibly dulling myself like that, you know?”

“I get it.” Dean finished off the last of his burger, watching quietly for a moment as Cas did the same—and then reached over to filch a couple of fries from Cas’s plate despite his earlier promise. He’d already finished his own. Cas allowed it. “Sucks, though. At least it’s not all the time.”

A nod and Cas picked at his fries for another minute before just pushing the plate across to Dean with a smile. The older man made short work of the few fries that were left, then returned to his milkshake, which was only half gone. They were both quiet for a couple of minutes and then:

“You’ve got more scars now than you did when you left Jacksonville.” Cas observed with a frown, “four more. I counted them earlier.”

Dean nodded, “yeah, it’s been a rough few months.”

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

The older man rubbed at one shoulder—one of the new scars was there—almost absently. “I’m always okay, Cas.”

“I don’t think that’s true. But I know you don’t want to worry me.” Cas gave him a little smile, “so, what were you in Sacramento for?”

“Ghost thing.” Dean shrugged, then leaned forward and lowered his voice; “you ever hear of Dorothea Puente, 1426 F Street?” And when Cas shook his head because obviously, he hadn’t, Dean chuckled and told him, “let’s just say that house is really freaking haunted.” Then he added, “but Dad and Sammy are taking care of it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“What did your Dad say about you taking off?”

“He wasn’t happy, but then again I didn’t give him much of a choice.” A grin, “he really doesn’t like my new attitude, when it comes to you.”

“You’re being insubordinate.” Cas chuckled and shook his head, then smiled when Dean reached across the table to take hold of one of his hands. He threaded their fingers together and squeezed gently. “Thank you for being insubordinate for me, Dean.”

“I keep telling you,” Dean squeezed his hand back, “anything for you, Cas. And I mean it. Anything.”

And wasn’t that a wonderous thing? That someone like Dean Winchester was so devoted to him. Willing to do anything for him. Despite Dean’s assurances in the past, Cas still didn’t see himself as special—certainly not special enough to deserve that kind of attentiveness from someone so obviously out of his league. But he didn’t say any of that out loud—he knew Dean didn’t like when he thought like that.

“Really,” Dean said after a moment of just looking at each other, a smitten little smile on his face, “we’re not waiting another seven months before we meet up again. Seven months was ridiculous. It was way too long not seeing you.”

Certainly, they had texted every day, and talked on the phone routinely, and even video called on the computer maybe once a week, but that just wasn’t the same as being able to touch either other, kiss each other, hold each other’s hands. The physical closeness had been desperately missed by both of them, and that fact was painfully obvious.

“It was the soonest you could get away,” Cas reminded him gently, “you can only get away when things with the Hunting are quieter, right? So, I mean… I understand.” Then a pause before; “doesn’t mean I like it, but I do understand.” Glancing down slightly, Cas offered a little smile of his own, “before this it would have been difficult for me to get away, too, because of school. My Father would never have let me take off and miss classes. But it’s summer break now, so I think I might get away with it. Once college starts up in the fall…” A shrug: “it’s easier to skip a couple of days of college than it is to skip high school. They don’t call your parents, for one…”

“I almost forgot about college.” Dean’s smile brightened and he squeezed Cas’s hand again, “Theology, right?”

“Mm, with a minor in World Religion and Folklore. Florida State.” Cas agreed, “I was going to go for a double major, but I decided against it at the last minute. Two majors is a lot to take on at once.”

“You wouldn’t catch me doing it, that’s for sure.” The older man chuckled, “where are you going to live while you’re going to school? At home?”

Cas shook his head. “No, the commute is too far. So, the dorms, at least at first. I’m hoping to get a place of my own after first year.” He paused then, blinking as he suddenly realized something; “Marshmallow can’t come with me to the dorms, can he? Father is going to have to take care of him for me until I have my own place…”

“He’s not going to like that?”

“He won’t be, um… enthused. But I think he’ll do it. He won’t make me get rid of my cat just because I’m going to school. I think.” Frowning to himself, he muttered, “I don’t know, maybe Garth can take him back for a while if Father refuses? I really hadn’t thought of this…”

Dean laughed, “Chuck’s not heartless, Cas, I think your cat will be fine.”

Dean had a point. He was probably spinning his wheels about nothing at all. Cas sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, once I’m safely in Tallahassee, getting away to meet up with you should be easier. No one will be hovering over me wondering what I’m doing and where I’m going, you know?”

An agreeing noise from Dean, who finally took his hand back to finish off his milkshake before pulling out his wallet, fishing enough cash for the meal—and a tip—out and dropping it on the table. Then he scooted out of the booth and stepped around to pull Cas to his feet as well.

“Have you ever been to Amarillo before, Cas?”

Cas blinked at him, “actually, no.” Not even in all his traveling for his father’s job. “Why?”

“Why don’t we just go for a walk for a bit?”

Cas looked out the window for a moment, almost absently. The sun was starting to go down, so the heat would be dissipating, it might actually be nice. Besides, he had pleasant memories of just wandering the streets of Jacksonville with Dean on their first-and-only Real Date, it would be nice to do it again, even if it was in a strange city. And he did have his cell phone on him in case they got lost, like last time.

Finally, he smiled at Dean and nodded. “That sounds nice, actually.”

They headed outside together, at which point Dean caught his hand again, holding it loosely in his own as they walked. Cas just enjoyed the warm feeling in his chest that resulted from the action and squeezed Dean’s hand gently. “Have you ever been to Amarillo, before, Dean?”

“Mm,” Dean agreed, “a while back on a case.”

“What were you Hunting?”

“Chupacabra.”

Cas blinked because chupacabra were real, too. “Is there anything that isn’t real?”

“Bigfoot.” Dean grinned sideways at him, then amended, “I mean. To my knowledge.”

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me or not right now.”

Dean laughed at that. “Just assume I’m teasing you, Cas. Just always assume I’m teasing you.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love you, Cas.”

“…yeah, I love you, too.”

--
--

When they got back to the motel it was nearly midnight and they basically fell in the door, barely managed to lock it behind themselves, and collapsed into the creaky bed. It had been a long day, especially for Cas, who had gone straight from a twenty-four hour bus ride into a sex marathon, and after eating and walking about town for a while both of them were well and truly done.

They at least had the energy and presence of mind to strip down to their boxers and brush their teeth before crashing for the night, cuddled up together, limbs tangled and not even caring that they were in possibly the shittiest motel in the country.

Cas’s schedule had him spending three nights there with Dean—Friday, Saturday and Sunday—though the third night barely counted because he had to be up and at the bus station at the crack of dawn to catch the first of many busses back to Jacksonville. But three nights were good. They were enough, he had thought, at least for now, especially after going so long without seeing Dean at all—except through a computer screen.

When Cas woke up in the morning it was after a night with no nightmares—the No Nightmares With Dean Around streak continued—and to Dean’s breath, soft on the back of his neck, the other man’s arm draped heavy across his waist. Cas took a while to just soak it in, eyes closing back over and enjoying how relaxed he was, the feeling of Dean being in the bed with him.

Eventually, though, he shifted, rolling over to peer past Dean’s shoulder at the clock on the bedside table. It read ten forty-three a.m., which meant they had both been out for about ten hours, give or take a few minutes. That seemed like enough time, to Cas. Time to recharge their batteries.

Now, he tipped his head to press a gentle kiss against Dean’s chin, then nudged at him until he was on his back—and began trailing soft kisses down along his chest to his abdomen and further. Dean just shifted in his sleep and sighed. He didn’t actually wake up until Cas reached the edge of his boxers and tugged them down, freeing his cock, still half-hard from sleep, and giving a long, slow lick across the head with a hum.

That was the point when Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down in blatant, sleep-fogged confusion—and then just groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Sh-shit, Cas…”

“Good morning,” Cas murmured softly, even as he licked up the side of Dean’s now-fully-hard dick and sucked the tip into his mouth, sucking at it softly. Dean cursed and brought a hand down to thread his fingers into Cas’s sleep-mussed hair.

“That’s a… heh. Hell of a way to wake up.”

Cas pulled off of him, licking his lips absently, and peered up at Dean curiously, “is it alright?”

“Is it alright.” Dean barked a laugh. He shook his head. “Yes, it’s alright, you just… caught me off-guard.” When Cas brought one hand up to start stroking at his cock, he swallowed hard and added, “you just keep, ah… surprising me, that’s all…” Then, after a brief pause and a slight buck of his hips, he tugged at Cas’s hair, drawing him up the length of his body. “C’mere, Cas.”

Cas went along willingly, releasing his hold on Dean’s dick and crawling up until he was even with the other man. He tilted his head curiously. “I thought you said it was alright?”

The fingers still tangled in his hair kneaded there restlessly before Dean pulled him down for a kiss. “It is. More than alright.” He murmured against Cas’s lips, “but I don’t just want your mouth or your hands. I want all of you.” A pause, and he smiled before asking, “is that alright?”

“Of course.” Cas replied easily with a shrug, “you can have me however you want, whenever you want.”

Dean grinned up at him, tugging him down for another kiss. “You might regret saying that one of these days, Cas.”

Cas wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, but he still stood by his statement. He was comfortable enough with Dean to offer up that much, at least. He knew Dean wouldn’t ask him to do anything too extreme—or, rather, he might ask but he would never force the issue. Cas was entirely sure of that fact.

Now, he just settled half-over Dean, kissing him back deeply, slowly, for a long couple of minutes until they had to break apart for proper air and Dean took to kissing along his jaw, nipping gently just under his ear. Cas sighed and let one hand rub against Dean’s chest, before sliding it further down to palm at Dean’s erection again, eyes closed and enjoying the attention—and the little gasp that his boyfriend muffled into his neck when Cas started stroking him off again.

“You’re gonna… make me come… before we even get to the good part.” Dean not-quite-complained, even as he stretched, reaching with one arm for the tube of lubricant on the bedside table. One he had it in hand he pushed at Cas’s chest gently. “Lay down and let me…”

Cas nodded and almost reluctantly released his grip on Dean’s cock again to roll onto his back with a huff. This time enough time had passed that he really would need to be stretched out again, and he knew it—and it wasn’t exactly like it was a chore, Dean always made it very pleasant for him, especially now that he knew what he was doing. Then again, he’d been good at that part right from the start, hadn’t he?

Settling back, Cas stripped out of his boxers, then got himself into position and reached to pull Dean closer, licking his lips absently. “Dean…”

“I’ve got you.” Dean leaned in for a kiss—then immediately got to work prepping Cas for what was to come, first one slick finger, then two, then three, until the younger man was arching and writhing under him. Dean really was good at finding—and manipulating—Cas’s sweet spot, leaving him absolutely wrecked by the time Dean pulled his hand away again, gasping for air and borderline begging for his cock.

“God, Dean, please…!”

“I know, Cas…”

But Dean didn’t just slide into him immediately, instead pulling his own boxers off properly and moving to sit with his back against the headboard of the bed, pulling Cas, a little boneless, at this point, up into his lap. Cas moaned and let his forehead drop down against Dean’s shoulder for a moment, but he knew what Dean was angling for here—so after a very brief pause he bit his lip and lifted up on his knees, reaching down to hold Dean’s cock in place as he sank down over it slowly.

Both of them just groaned quietly and Cas was still for a few breaths as he adjusted to Dean inside him.

“This… ah. It makes me feel… privileged, you know…?” Cas let his head fall forward again, his words coming out a touch breathless and his hands sliding up Dean’s arms to hold by his shoulders. “Special.”

“What does?” The older man asked, voice strained.

“This… the fact that this is just for me...” Cas shifted his hips slightly, swallowing a moan at the movement, “that no one else gets to see you like this… touch you like this. No one else gets to—to have you like this…”

“Yeah, I… me too, Cas.” Dean panted softly, “I feel the same way. Mmh.”

“I told you before…” Cas began moving finally, rocking his hips in Dean’s lap, and wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck to hold him close, “I don’t want to—ah!—share you…! I always want you… to be just mine…!”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed around a moan, then; “shit, Cas…!”

The thing about being sat up in Dean’s lap the way he was, pressed close together the way they were, this position, was that Dean’s cock rubbed firmly against his prostate with every roll of his hips and Cas was very quickly losing his wits. Now he just nodded his head, forehead pressed against Dean’s shoulder, unable to come up with any more words for the moment, and made a breathless, almost whining sound in the back of his throat.

Dean’s hands were clamped on his hips, right over the little bruises from the day before, a constant, tiny sting of pain that just seemed to set everything off even more. Cas rocked his hips harder and lifted his head to drag Dean into a kiss, then leaned their foreheads together, eyes closed and little “ah, ah” noises with every movement.

One hand slid up so Cas could tangle his fingers in Dean’s hair, pulling along with the rocking of his hips, biting on his lower own lip to muffle too-loud cries that kept trying to escape his throat. Finally, Cas ducked his head to bury his face in the crook of Dean’s neck with an only half-muffled shout at a particularly good thrust against his prostate: “MMH!”

For his part, Dean seemed to be enjoying the entire thing thoroughly—both because it was pleasurable for him, obviously, but also because Cas was on the verge of absolutely losing his shit. He wasn’t entirely sure why, he would have to ask later, but for now he was just going with it because Cas in this state, coming completely undone, was absolutely freaking fantastic. Unbelievably hot.

“Fuck… fuck…!” Cas was actually cursing under his breath, hips rocking hard, now, heatedly, his own cock rubbing against Dean’s abdomen and just making everything even more intense. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He tightened his grip in Dean’s hair and hissed when Dean’s hands tightened at his hips in kind, the bruises there protesting the added pressure.

When he came a moment later, Cas pressed close to Dean and kept his face buried in the older man’s neck, crying out loudly as he painted both their stomachs with slick come. But Dean wasn’t quite there—however, before Cas could pick up his movements again, Dean grabbed at him and flipped them over, pushing Cas down into the mattress and settling over him, starting to fuck him hard and deep.

Cas just moaned, head back against the pillows, gasping for air while Dean took his pleasure—and finally came a couple minutes later, hips jerking and shoving against Cas’s, holding deep for a few breaths before Dean pulled away and rolled to the side, settling beside his boyfriend, panting for air.

“What was… that about?” Dean swiped a hand through his hair and turned his head to look at Cas curiously, still breathing hard.

“Oh, fuck, I just…” Cas had one arm flung up over his eyes, his own chest still heaving, and it occurred to him that there had been no condom this time, either. He didn’t bother to mention it. “In that… position… God, Dean, every single little movement just… rubbed on my prostate, jammed against it…” Lowering his arm, he turned his head to give Dean a breathless grin, “it all felt incredible, I… just. Wow.”

Dean grinned back, rolling onto his side to face Cas and folding his arm under his head. “That was a happy accident.”

Cas laughed. “Yeah, definitely.” He took a few deep, grounding breaths, then, and smiled when Dean’s free hand slid across his chest to rest over where his heart was beating, still a little quick. Cas brought one of his own hands up to cup Dean’s jaw gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Cas.” Dean’s reply was warm, and he eased closer against Cas’s side, slinging an arm over his boyfriend’s chest with a chuckle, “with the swearing, this time. It must’ve felt good.”

“So good.” Cas agreed, still smiling at Dean fondly. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your prostate.” Cas clarified, “you know you have one, too, right?”

“Well… yeah, but…” Dean balked and actually began to pull away a little—

—until Cas rolled over and pulled him closer again, wrapping him up in his arms. He bumped their foreheads together lightly, gentle affection. “I was just asking if you were curious. You don’t ever have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Dean.” Then he offered a little, lopsided grin and added, “it does feel amazing, though.”

A small frown and Dean sighed but allowed: “I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

“Or never.” Cas assured him. “Never is fine, too.”

Dean closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. “I guess I have some hangups.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The younger man kissed back with a hum and squeezed his arms around Dean in a hug, “so what are we going to do today?”

“More of this? A whole day of this? Just the two of us tangled up in bed together all day long?” Dean suggested, the grin returning to his face, but then he dropped another brief kiss against Cas’s lips and added, “seriously though, first we should probably get cleaned up and then go get some breakfast. After that I was thinking we might hit up the botanical gardens… like another proper date, you know?”

That made Cas smile. They hadn’t been on a date since their first one in Jacksonville seven months ago. It was incredibly sweet of Dean to even think of it, all things considered. He sighed contentedly and pressed closer into Dean’s chest. “That sounds perfect, Dean.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Dean smiled back at him. “It’s a plan, then.”

--
--

They cleaned up together and absolutely had sex again in the shower, not that anyone involved was surprised when it happened. Once they were done, out, clean and dry, they both got dressed with relative swiftness and soon they were ready to head out the door.

After that it was back to Phil’s where they ordered—well—lunch, because it was so late, and ate and talked amongst themselves while they were there. This time the diner had pie in stock, so Dean got a slice of blueberry for them to share. The same as the last time they had shared a piece of pie, Cas took a single bite and left the rest to Dean because he clearly loved it at least as much as he loved Cas himself. Cas found it so endearing that he wasn’t even jealous, even though he probably should have been.

Once they were done eating, they walked to the botanical gardens with directions from Cas’s phone, and Dean expressed his surprise that two men could walk hand-in-hand down the street in Texas without getting straight-up shot. Cas was happy to inform him that, actually, the majority of Texans supported same-sex marriage and anti-discrimination laws. Dean had choked on his own tongue slightly at the word “marriage”, making Cas smile to himself, amused.

The botanical gardens, when they eventually got there, were sprawling and beautiful, but while Cas appreciated everything about them it was clear from the very start that Dean was bored out of his mind. He continued to follow Cas, though, Cas tugging on his hand gently to lead him around and stopping to read all the little informational plaques that they came across.

Finally, they found themselves at a section of the gardens that contained a decorative fountain and a couple of benches for seating, and Dean pulled Cas over to sit on one of them, needing a break from all the… greenery.

“I like it here.” Cas said, not necessarily to Dean, more to no one in particular. He looked around them, then up at the sky with a smile. “It’s like the Garden of Eden or something. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.” He turned his attention to Dean at that point, expression full of obvious content. “Having you here with me just makes it even better. Thank you for bringing me here, Dean.”

“Technically google brought us here.” Dean returned Cas’s smile with one of his own. “Not gonna lie, this really isn’t my thing. But I thought you’d like it, so…”

“You were right.” Leaning over, Cas pressed a kiss by Dean’s jaw gently. “But we don’t have to stay. I know you’re bored, and we’ve been here nearly two hours already.” Standing, he reached one hand out toward Dean for him to take; “come on, let’s get out of here. We can go back to the motel and find a bad movie to watch on television.”

Dean laughed and took his hand, pushing to his feet as well. “I’m sure we can find something on Pay-Per-View. And maybe we can order pizza for dinner tonight, instead of going to the diner again.”

Cas nodded. “I like all of these ideas.”

Dean grinned as they headed out. “You haven’t even heard all the ideas I’ve got for sex, yet, either.”

--
--

The only worthwhile movie that was playing on Pay-Per-View was the remake of Dawn Of The Dead, and Dean simply could not watch it without bitching. Cas actually found it amusing and somewhat adorable, all his opinions on films, though he didn’t understand a lot of Dean’s criticisms since he wasn’t familiar with the original, and after a while Dean really started to get himself worked up.

Eventually, Cas started pulling him into kisses just to shut him up and distract him—and it worked. Soon enough, the two of them were fully making out, Cas stretched out on his back on the little couch in the living area with Dean overtop of him, one leg pushed up between his thighs as they kissed until they couldn’t even breathe. The movie played on in the background, completely forgotten.

When they eventually parted to gasp for air, Dean ducked in to kiss along Cas’s throat, nipping gently here-and-there, and Cas let his own hands wander up under Dean’s shirt, nails scraping lightly along heated skin.

“God, I knew I missed you, but I almost literally can’t stop touching you.” Dean muttered against Cas’s neck.

Cas just made a quiet agreeing noise in his throat. He had come here expecting them to have sex, yes, but not in the sheer volume that they had been having it since he’d arrived. A couple of times, maybe, but not the going-on-six in twenty-four hours that they were currently at.

Not that he was complaining. It was amazing, and evidently Dean felt the same way, if his enthusiasm was anything to go by. Cas figured they were just making up for missing each other the last seven months, and clocking in memories to get them through the next span of time between visits. (Hopefully less than another seven months.)

“So was your Dad disappointed that you turned out to be ‘just another horny teenage boy’?” Dean asked with a grin, biting on his earlobe—and it caught Cas so by surprise that he laughed, head back and fingers digging into Dean’s sides slightly, shoulders shaking. Dean pushed up on his arms to grin down at him. “You were worried about that, once, remember?”

Cas smiled widely up at him. “I’m not anymore. Especially if this weekend is any indication.” He pulled, then, tugging Dean back down over himself and leaning in to kiss him again. “Not that I plan on telling him any details.”

“Chuck’s head would explode, I think.” Dean murmured into the kiss. “We don’t want to explode your Dad.”

“No, we don’t want that…” Cas sighed against his lips… and then they were making out again, warm and slow becoming hot and heavy in no time, the two of them completely tangled up together, lost in each other, in the feel of moving against each other, even just with their clothes still on.

Not that they stayed on for long. Soon enough Cas was rucking up Dean’s shirt, urging him to take it off, and Dean pushed back just long enough to grab his tee by the back collar and yank it over his head. He tossed it off to the side before sliding his hands down to tug at Cas’s shirt as well, until the younger man sat up a little and allowed Dean to pull his shirt off as well.

Dean leaned down to kiss Cas again, but pushed Cas’s hands away when he immediately went to grab at Dean. “We need the lube,” He muttered against Cas’s lips. “I’ll go get it. You get your pants off.”

Cas fell back with a huff but nodded his agreement. Dean had a point. So, while Dean climbed off him and headed into the bedroom area, Cas undid his own jeans—then adjusted himself on the couch, considering, before standing and wandering after Dean. Dean was already out of his jeans and boxers, and just grabbing the lube off the nightstand. When he turned around to see Cas standing there, he gave a confused look.

Cas shrugged. “The couch is too small; we would’ve fallen off. The bed is better.”

“But louder.”

“Still better.”

Dean glanced between the bed and the couch before shrugging and climbing onto the mattress, gesturing for Cas to join him. Cas flashed a smile but took the time to get out of his own jeans and boxers before joining his boyfriend. Dean drew him up into his lap with a hum and Cas went along more than willingly, settling straddling the other man and leaning in to kiss him warmly.

This time when they started making out again it stayed warm and slow, the heat simmering just below the surface despite the fact that they were both already stripped bare, already hard. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, one hand up and tangled in Dean’s hair, and Dean’s own hands roamed up and down Cas’s sides, smoothing over his skin hotly, the lube discarded on the bed beside them for the time being.

It was a slower process this time, harkening back to their first couple times, when Dean had been in Jacksonville, and they had been having sex at Cas’s house, in Cas’s bed. Kisses and touches that brimmed with emotion that they, at the time, had been unable to express in words. Now they could find the words, but they also knew how to express themselves physically much more easily than back then. It seemed like a lifetime ago, really.

Cas’s arms unwrapped from around Dean’s neck, and he gave one more, gentle tug at Dean’s hair, his hands sliding down to rest against the older man’s chest, kneading there lightly as they kissed, deep and slow. Dean hummed into the kiss, his own hands rubbing up Cas’s back, then dragging back down before pulling Cas closer against himself, rocking his hips upward lightly.

A low moan and Cas began rocking his own hips, just little, light movements, and kissed Dean deeply again before pulling back and leaning their foreheads together, licking his lips absently. “Dean…” He swallowed, paused, then finally murmured almost shyly, “…make love to me.”

And Dean paused at that because oh. But there was such hesitance and earnestness in Cas’s blue eyes that he couldn’t do anything except agree. Not that he wouldn’t have agreed anyway. He would happily agree to just about anything for Cas. Dean offered a soft, utterly smitten smile and whispered, “I can do that, Cas.”

Cas gave a sigh of relief, still looking a touch shy, and leaned in for another soft kiss. Dean returned the kiss just as gently—then carefully nudged Cas out of his lap, settling him on the bed before grabbing for the lube and setting about the task of getting Cas stretched out, the process long and slow and drawn-out this time, until Cas was arching and writhing, head back and hands fisting in the blankets, pulling at them. Until he was an absolute panting mess.

Dean was so, so achingly hard, but ignored his own need until Cas was pleading with him, at which point he finally settled himself between Cas’s legs and pushed his cock into the younger man’s body, slow and deep.

He was still for a minute, then, giving Cas time to adjust, his weight resting on one arm and the opposite hand sliding warmly up and down Cas’s hip and thigh, and leaned down to kiss Cas gently. Cas returned the kiss with a little whine and a rock of his hips. Dean took the hint and began to move.

They moved carefully together, easing into a slow, deep rhythm. Cas’s legs came up to wrap around Dean’s hips loosely and his hands lifted to grab at Dean’s sides, fingers digging in just slightly, then sliding around to knead at the small of his back. Dean ducked in to kiss along Cas’s shoulder to the crook of his neck, then lifted up a little again to draw Cas into another kiss.

Cas kissed back with a low moan, muffled against Dean’s lips, then broke away to let his head fall black, leaving his throat free for Dean to plunder. He continued rolling his hips, hands holding Dean close against him, and panted out, “oh, God… Dean, this is… ah… perfect…!”

“You’re perfect…” Came Dean’s reply, muffled against Cas’s neck. “You feel amazing, Cas… every damn inch of you…”

Dean was a versatile lover; Cas was very quickly learning. He could roll with just about anything. But this—this—was something he was particularly good at, somehow, for some reason. Cas wasn’t about to question it right now.

Everything was heat and passion, the two of them completely wrapped up in each other, and it seemed to go on forever. This was exactly what Cas had wanted—what he had been asking for, and he didn’t regret asking a single bit. He just soaked in everything Dean was giving him, absorbed it into himself and gave back what he hoped was at least an iota of what he was receiving.

A hand slid down his thigh, rubbing heatedly, and Cas tightened his legs around Dean’s hips with a little, choked whine when the movement pulled Dean deeper into himself. Dean just moaned and buried his face in the crook of Cas’s neck again, panting there breathlessly as he began fucking into Cas a little harder, a little faster, working them both toward completion.

When Cas came a few too-short moments later it was with a sharp cry, back arched, head pushed back into the pillow and mouth working as he gasped for air. He continued to cling to Dean with all his tingly-loose limbs while the other man kept thrusting into him for another short time—and then tensed, his grip on Cas’s thigh tightening as he came as well, a short shout in his throat.

Then Dean was sinking down over Cas, settling against his chest, leaving Cas to ease his legs back down to the bed with a huff. The younger man continued panting, but stroked his hands up and down Dean’s back, rubbing warmly, affection on a level he didn’t give to anyone else.

It was another few minutes before Dean finally pulled out of him and rolled to the side to land on his back with a huff. Cas just rolled over as well, tucking himself into Dean’s side and throwing an arm across him with a little pleased noise. “That... was amazing.”

“You know we have done that before. Several times. Several times this weekend.” Dean joked.

“Not like that, though.” Cas protested softly.

“…no. We’ve only—made love—that one other time.” Dean conceded. “At your place just before I had to leave. And it’s…” He trailed off for a moment, considering, before giving Cas a smile, just a little, fond quirk of his lips, “I think it’s the best way we have sex. We should do it more often.”

“I feel very… close to you. When we make love like that.” Cas admitted, voice still quiet, as if he were afraid of breaking whatever spell had come over them, “emotionally, I mean, as well as physically. It’s an entirely different experience than when we’re just…” He trailed off, then, searching for the word.

“Fucking?” Dean suggested with a chuckle.

Cas sighed but made a quiet agreeing noise. “Yes, exactly.”

He really wasn’t a fan of that term for it, even if it was accurate—even if he had used that word himself already over the course of their weekend together. Cas supposed sometimes there was just no other way to put it, even if ‘fucking’ made it sound so… animalistic, almost. Base. Which it could be, granted, but he still had a complicated relationship with that word. He didn’t even like to use it as a curse.

Dean’s hand rubbed against his back, just gentle and warm, and after a brief silence he asked, “what’re you thinking about?”

“Mm…” Cas closed his eyes, his own hand touching absently along Dean’s chest, the pads of his fingers feeling along the shallow scars the jorogumo had left behind on him months ago, too. “Nothing, really, just… this weekend has been…” Trailing off, he gave a soft laugh and turned his head to press a kiss by Dean’s collar bone. “A lot. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“I know, right?” The older man grinned up at the ceiling, amusement all over his voice, “and we still have another whole day to go.”

“You’re enjoying this too much, Dean.” Cas accused fondly.

“Wha—come on! Aren’t you?” Still grinning, Dean tilted his head to look at Cas properly and tightened his arm around him slightly. “I know you aren’t hating it.”

“No,” Cas allowed, a little smile on his face again, “I’m definitely not hating it.” When Dean angled for a kiss he returned it with a laugh, “but I am going to be completely exhausted by the time I leave Monday morning.”

“Mmhm,” Dean hummed into the kiss, already rolling over to press Cas into the mattress again, “I can live with that.”

--
--

Men reached peak sexuality at about their age and Cas was pretty sure they were a prime example of that fact. They spent all of Saturday night and most of Sunday wrapped up in each other, making up for lost time and stockpiling memories to last them until the next time they could meet up. It was good to be young.

There were, of course, occasional breaks to get cleaned up (not that it ever lasted long) or for food, or just to watch television together (as long as it wasn’t the Dawn Of The Dead remake) and cuddle on the too-small couch, but in general they spent their time in the creaky bed, which Cas was actually starting to become fond of—except for the times that they had sex in the shower, or when Dean fucked him over the little kitchenette table.

Really, they had joked about it, but even if he had told his father about the goings on that weekend, he doubted his father would have believed him.

“I’m sorry,” This came from Dean, who was spooned up behind him, one hand rubbing gently against Cas’s hip.

They were cuddled up together on the bed now, in the wee hours of the morning Monday morning. They really should have been asleep—Cas had to be up to catch the bus downtown at six—but neither one of them wanted to miss even a moment of time they could have been spending together. Besides, Cas could just sleep on the bus, and Dean could always come back to the motel and crash after he was gone.

Cas made a surprised noise and glanced over his shoulder. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Your hips.” Dean clarified, fingers touching along the still-darkening bruises there lightly, “I was too rough. I bruised them up.”

“You did,” Cas agreed, and rolled over to face him, tilting his head to drop a kiss against Dean’s lips. “But to be fair I initiated a couple of those times, so it’s my fault, too. Anyway, they’re not bad. They only hurt a little, and they’ll heal up in no time.” Then, just to be clear; “you weren’t too rough. You were just right.”

“This isn’t a Goldilocks thing, Cas, I hurt you.”

“You did not. I’m fine.” Cas rolled his eyes and pushed at Dean until the other man rolled onto his back, then climbed on top of him, flinging a leg over him to straddle his hips and leaning down to kiss him again. “Here, I’ll show you how fine I am…”

Dean chuckled into the kiss but then reluctantly slid his hands up Cas’s legs to push at him gently. “Cas,” Another kiss, then, “Cas, seriously, we can’t, we—” When Cas pulled back a little, Dean gave him an apologetic look, “we don’t have time. It’s after four-thirty and we have to get you to the bus station for six…”

Something sad flickered in Cas’s eyes before shuttering off again, and he sat back against Dean’s hips, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. Dean was right. They still needed to shower and get dressed, and walk to the bus station—or, he did, anyway, and he assumed Dean would insist on coming with him.

Frowning to himself, Cas shifted off of Dean and tucked himself close into the older man’s side. Dean wrapped an arm around him without a word of protest. They did have enough time for this—for a few more, brief moments of intimacy—the emotional kind. Cas nuzzled into Dean’s chest just by his collar bone and closed his eyes.

“I don’t want to go.” He said finally, voice soft and sad.

“I know,” Dean replied, the hand resting on his side rubbing there gently; reassuring, grounding; “I don’t want you to go, either. If I could take you back with me, I would, but my Dad—” He broke off, but Cas knew. And besides, Dean would never actually want to subject him to the life of a Hunter, or a Hunter’s family.

“What if neither of us went back?” He suggested, tone a strange mix between joking and serious, “what if we just… stay here, in Amarillo. It’s a nice town. Accepting. We could make a life for ourselves, here.”

“You have school coming up,” Dean reminded him softly, “a whole future. Friends and your Dad and… and everything.”

“And I’d give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant being able to be with you.” Cas murmured, just as softly. He hesitated then, one hand tracing absently against Dean’s chest, before asking, “you know Sam once said to me that he thought you would give up Hunting for me, if I asked you to. Is that true?”

There was a long, long silence from Dean following that question. Cas could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. He was just about to dismiss it entirely and change the subject when Dean spoke up again, just quietly, to answer his question; “yes, it’s true.”

Cas paused at that. Blue eyes opened and he looked off into the darkness of the room, his hand stilling against Dean’s chest, just over his heart. “It’s very tempting.” He admitted finally, “the idea of you quitting Hunting and us just being able to… be.” Then his hand began to move again, fingers toying absently with Dean’s pendant, and he continued, “but I could never ask that of you, I told Sam that at the time, too. You… I think a part of you needs to Hunt. For your family. For yourself. I understand that. If you stopped for me, eventually you’d come to resent me for it, and I don’t want that. So… I’ll go and get on that bus and head back to Florida, and we’ll meet again in a couple more months. Right?”

When Dean responded he sounded like he was having trouble speaking, getting the words out; “how can you always be so selfless? How can you always, always be thinking about me over your own wants and your own needs?”

A little smile. Cas lifted his head to look up at Dean through the dark. “That’s what you do when you love someone as much as I love you.”

Dean looked back at him for a moment—then leaned to kiss him gently. “I love you, too, Cas. So much. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“What else can I be?” Cas smiled fondly before finally pushing away and sitting up, stretching his arms over his head for a moment. Then he climbed out of the bed and held a hand out toward Dean. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up. I have a bus to catch and I’m making you walk me to the station.”

A chuckle from Dean, but he allowed himself to be pulled up as well. “Don’t gotta make me, Cas, I was already planning on it.”

--
--

The walk to the bus station downtown was made mostly in silence, the two of them walking quietly, hand-in-hand down the street, Cas with his backpack hiked over one shoulder, neither of them showing the wear from the weekend, though Cas was sure as soon as he was on the bus and the vehicle was moving, he would basically pass out. He just hoped he didn’t miss any of his stops or transfers.

Dean was staying in town for one more night before heading back to California to meet up with his dad and Sam, who, by that time, should have taken care of the whole 1426 F Street thing. Then they would be on to the next town, the next job, and Cas would be back to trying to track Dean’s meandering path all across the country.

When they arrived at the station, they were a few minutes early, so Cas took the time to raid the vending machines for food: a couple of pre-packaged sandwiches, bags of chips, chocolate bars and bottled water that he crammed into his backpack along with his dirty clothes. Enough to get him by for the next twenty-four hours on the bus, hopefully, though he could always buy more at one of his layovers if he had to.

Then he sat next to Dean on a bench and waited for his bus to pull in, close against the other man’s side with his head resting on Dean’s shoulder. Neither of them had actually said ‘goodbye’ yet, they were procrastinating over it, but they knew it was coming and both of them were dreading it.

It was hard, parting ways like this, especially not knowing when they would be able to meet up again. This time it had taken seven months before Dean could get away from his family for a weekend, what if next time it took longer? Nine months? A year? Their whole lives could get away from them at that rate, and Cas… he hated it. All he wanted to do was ask Dean to quit Hunting for him, but what he’d said was true, he knew eventually Dean would grow to resent him for it if they went down that road, and that was the last thing he wanted. Still, it was tempting.

The thought of having a normal, apple-pie life with Dean was… well, it was a pipe dream, of course, but it was also so, so nice. Cas was happy when he was with Dean, comfortable and relaxed in ways that he wasn’t around anyone else. It helped that having Dean around kept the nightmares at bay, too. He knew as soon as he was away from the other man’s presence, they would come back full force. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

“You look like you’re doing some serious thinking.”

“Hm?” Cas blinked out of his thoughts and lifted his head to smile at Dean, “just thinking about my dreams, how you keep the nightmares away.” He shrugged slightly, “still don’t know why, but you’re the best dreamcatcher out there.”

Dean reached to take hold of his hand, squeezing gently. “I’m glad I help, even if I’m not there all the time.”

“Not all my dreams are bad anymore,” Cas assured him, tangling their fingers together and giving a squeeze of his own, “some of them are just weird. In one I’m drinking coffee in a restaurant, but it’s like… a thousand restaurants all at the same time, they’re just all identical? Restaurants within restaurants within restaurants. I don’t know. But a lot of them are still… yeah. Not great. On the bus here a couple days ago I nodded off and dreamed that someone cut open my stomach and reached inside with their bare hands and pulled out a… stone. A big, flat stone. And I could feel every second they were ripping into me, it was…”

“God, Cas,” Dean tipped his head to press a kiss against his temple and Cas sighed softly. “Where does your brain even come up with that stuff?”

Another shrug. “No idea. All I know is I don’t get much sleep a lot of the time. So, when I’m with you and you’re chasing the dreams away, however you’re doing it, it’s just… it’s really, really nice. Something I appreciate, even though I know you’re not doing it on purpose.”

“No, but I’m glad I’m helpful, anyway.”

“Mm.”

“I still have that piece of chalcedony you gave me,” Dean told him with a smile, “I sleep with it under my pillow, along with Dad’s bowie knife. I think it helps. But that could just be because it’s from you.”

Cas returned his smile with one of his own, “I’m glad. You know, I—”

And then the announcement came over the loudspeaker that Cas’s bus had just pulled in and would be boarding momentarily. Cas broke off what he’d been about to say, deeming it unimportant, his smile turning sad around the edges. He stood from his seat and waited for Dean to do the same, leaving his backpack on the floor for the time being.

“Cas, I…” Dean began, then trailed off and simply pulled the younger man into a hug, wrapping him up in his arms and holding him tight. Cas hugged back, hands grabbing at the back of Dean’s jacket like he never wanted to let go—probably because he didn’t. And why was saying goodbye this time so much harder than saying goodbye last time had been? “I’m going to miss the hell out of you.” Dean finished finally, voice coming out rough.

Cas nodded, face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck and fighting back the tears that were in his eyes, threatening to spill over. “Yeah, me too.” He sniffed softly and carefully released his hold on Dean, who brought one hand up to cup Cas’s jaw, thumb rubbing along his cheek gently. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Promise.” Dean leaned in for a kiss and Cas returned it, the tears finally overflowing. When they pulled back Dean wiped them away softly and bumped their foreheads together. “I love you, Cas.”

A weak smile. “I love you, too, Dean.”

The call for his bus to start boarding. Cas sniffed again and stepped back from Dean, trying to keep a smile on his face—but it was completely undermined by the fact that he was still crying. He stooped to pick up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder. When he straightened again, it was to give a little surprised noise when Dean pulled him into another kiss—this one deep and full of longing. Cas fell into it and returned it in kind until the next call for his bus, at which point he had to pull away.

“Goodbye, Dean.” He said, swallowing, “less than seven months next time, right?”

Dean nodded, and his own voice came out suspiciously thick when he confirmed, “right.”

Cas reluctantly left, handing over his ticket and climbing onto the bus, taking a seat near the back. He watched Dean through the window—the other man stayed where he was, eyes on him, until the bus pulled away and drove out of sight. Only then did Dean turn around and head back to the motel, alone.

He was already making plans to video call Cas the following day.

The End