Take Care of My Baby

As it turns out, Dean has to do more work than Cas when it comes to packing their dinner because he realizes that they don't have a picnic basket, and for some reason, he insists that "we need it Cas. You can't have a picnic without a freakin' picnic basket. Everyone knows that."

And despite the fact that Castiel insists he's perfectly fine with packing up a normal backpack or simply holding onto the food, Dean isn't having any of it, and he heads out in the Coupe to make a quick stop at the nearest grocery store in hopes of finding a picnic basket while Cas stays home and gets everything else around.

Cas has never really tried his hand at cooking before, but he feels that it's necessary tonight. After all, he plans on giving Dean the ring that he's purchased for him, so he wants to do something more than just ordering a hamburger at The Roadhouse. He settled for making the crazy sandwich concoctions that he and Gabriel hand-crafted as children. In this case, Cas has chosen to make them out of the leftover chicken he made the night prior and tops his with a variety of vegetables, so many that Dean claims it's "basically a salad in between two slices of bread". Due to that, Dean's is still a little more plain, but Cas won't let him get away with just having chicken and bread. To top that off, he also makes the homemade french fries that Lucius made when they were kids.

Due to that, the only thing that he really cooked was an apple pie. He was at a loss when he consulted the cookbook that sits in the Winchester family bookshelf, so much so that he was forced to take an emergency trip to The Roadhouse to ask Ellen how to cook. The best thing about the Harvelles is that they don't ask any unnecessary questions, even when their curiosity is getting the best of them. She guided him through the process of making pie crust and filling and sets him on his way with a phone number to call in case he has trouble. Thankfully, her instructions are so complete that he doesn't have to use it.

Cas isn't quite sure if what he's made is edible, but he knows Dean isn't one to turn down food, so he's not particularly worried that it'll ruin the night. The man, if anything, will be more touched by the effort than the actual turnout.

When Dean returns home, he enters the kitchen with the most serious face Cas has ever seen him don and drops an honest-to-god picnic basket down on the counter.

"You will not believe the things I had to do to get this," he states seriously.

Cas looks up at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "What did you have to do?"

"Nobody - freakin' nobody - sells picnic baskets this time of year, and I don't know why, 'cause the weather is still just fine," he begins with a hell of a lot of emotion. "So I get to the store and ask if they've got anything left, and of course, they don't, but the manager is this little old lady who's too damn nice for her own good, and she spent ages trackin' down a basket, but then of course someone else walks in there and decides that they want one, too." Dean cuts off his statement and leans against the counter, trying to collect himself because, after all, Dean Winchester does not get upset over such trivial things. "It was dumb 's all."

Cas is watching Dean tell his story with amusement, because he can tell that Dean wants this to be perfect, and it's endearing just how much thought he's put into the night. Dean eyes him curiously. "What're you grinnin' 'bout?"

"You never fail to amaze me, Dean Winchester," Cas tells him as he reaches over and pulls the man into a kiss. Dean barely has time to scoff before they're mouth-on-mouth, but Cas decides that he can forgive the man for that.

When they pull away, Dean grumbles a bit, but he really doesn't have much that he can complain about, not when he has Cas hunting for every possible way to make some sort of contact as they pack their basket for the night.

They make small talk and crack jokes all the way to their special clearing in the forest, the destination for their scheduled picnic. Dean parks the Coupe on the side of the road, choosing not to drive her through the forest again and risk scratching her. It's a damn nice day, though, and neither of the men mind walking. The sun is shining in its late October glory, lighting up all the trees and keeping the earth warm for the two of them. And Cas has to admit, the meadow looks absolutely breathtaking in the golden light. It feels as though he's seeing it again for the first time, like he's sneaking here and kissing Dean before anything could bring them down.

"'S pretty great, right?" Dean asks with a grin as he plops down at one of the boulders. He sets the picnic basket on top, as he'd insisted he carry everything, including their blankets.

Cas takes a seat next to Dean, their bodies pressed flush together. "It's beautiful."

"I, uh... I think it's real nice that we get to do stuff like this," the man states with a finality that says he doesn't feel comfortable discussing the matter in detail. But that's just Dean, still too uncomfortable to talk about his feelings, even though he's in the middle of a committed relationship.

Before Castiel has a chance to respond, Dean starts to unload their basket onto the boulder. As he does so, his brow furrows in confusion, and he turns to the man next to him. "Cas, did you make all this?"

"Mhm," he hums absently as he removes the plastic wrap from the food. "Who did you think made it?"

"Well, I didn't know. Thought maybe you picked it up somewhere or somethin'." He shakes his head. "I didn't know you could cook."

"Don't speak too soon, Dean. I've yet to determine the edibility of the meal," Cas tells the man gravely. Then, he hands Dean his sandwich.

Dean takes it without much fanfare. "I honestly doubt you could fuck anything up, Cas."

At that, the younger man huffs, but he doesn't say much more than, "Eat your sandwich and be quiet."

"'M just sayin', now that I know you can cook, I won't keep forcin' Sammy to make his god-awful food."

Castiel rolls his eyes and digs in to his own sandwich. As far as he's concerned, it's not too bad, but then again, he's never really known what qualifies as being a top-notch meal due to a childhood spent eating his siblings' experiments. However, with the way Dean's eyes light up and the noise of pleasure he makes, Cas can assume that he enjoys it.

"Jesus, Cas, this is really good," he exclaims through a mouthful of food.

"Please. It's nothing more than a sandwich."

"A damn good sandwich."

Despite his best efforts, Cas can't help but feel pleased at the compliment.

They eat in relative silence after that, as Dean is too occupied with food to make conversation. He devours a good share of the pie in moments and only refrains from eating the rest of it because, as he laments, "Cas, I'm gonna dieeeee," as he falls backward into the grass.

"Self-restraint is a wonderful thing."

Dean groans loudly, covering his face with the crook of his elbow. "You're spending too much time with Sam." And then, because he's a man of extremes, he leaps up, wraps an arm around Cas's waist, and drags the man down onto the grass with him in one quick motion. Cas lets out a rather embarrassing squeal of surprise as the man does so, and it sends Dean into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that's so heartfelt and raucous that it echoes through the trees and scares away the birds nesting in the trees nearby.

"Shut up, Dean."

"Never."

They stay there long after their giggles have subsided, with Cas next to Dean as they stare up into the shapes of the clouds and at the tops of the trees. It's then that the younger man states, "Dean, there's something I would like to tell you."

Dean turns and looks at Cas, concern suddenly lining his brow. "What is it, Cas? Somethin' wrong?"

"No, it's nothing like that. Please don't worry yourself." Castiel takes a steadying breath and turns his eyes from the clouds, opting for the grounding sight of Dean Winchester instead. "You are singlehandedly the most wonderfu-"

"Aw, hell-"

"Shh, don't interrupt. It's rude." Cas places a finger over Dean's lips, and they seem to automatically curl into a smile. "As I was saying, you are easily the first person in my life to actually startle me from a state of existence to one of living. And though we may be moving quicker than a traditional couple, I feel as though we have just cause.

"I... I know that we can't get married. I'm not sure married life would suit us, anyway. We cannot even tell some of our closest friends lest we fear the undeniable consequences. However, I... have something I'd like to give you anyway. You wear Sam's amulet quite frequently, and I thought to give you something, too."

As he finishes his words, Cas reaches into his pocket and removes the ring, handing it over to the other man. Dean takes it with eyes wide with some emotion that Cas can't seem to place. Without dragging his eyes from the small piece of jewelery that he holds in his hands, he sits up so that his expression becomes hidden from view. In that moment, he feels his heart quicken its pace, but he says nothing for fear of hearing actual words of rejection come from the man he loves. He hopes that he's not moving too quickly, that perhaps Dean isn't quite ready to wear such an outward expression of commitment.

Cas sits up when Dean shakes his head, but he finds the man smiling.

"Goddammit," Dean grins, and despite the look of pure happiness on the man's face, Cas still can't help to feel put off.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Jesus- no, Cas. You just beat me to it is all," he laughs. Dean pulls a necklace off from around his neck, this one with a small silver band on it. It's not as clean cut as the one that Castiel purchased, but it's beautiful nonetheless, and he's mesmerized as it's lowered into his hands.

"Dean..."

"Yeah, yeah. With Sammy proposin' and all, I wanted to do somethin' nice for you. Didn't like any of the rings in the stores, though, so I just made one myself."

Cas furrows his brow. "You know how to make jewelry?"

"Well... not really," Dean admits, scratching the back of his head. "Dad... he liked to make his own bullets for hunting. Making a ring kinda goes along the same principles. 'Lot harder, though."

"That's amazing, Dean," Cas says as he slides the ring onto his finger.

"Aw, shuddup." If the blush on his cheeks is anything to go by, however, Dean is quite flattered, and he hides his face by putting his new ring onto his necklace so that it hangs around the amulet that Sam bought for him years ago. "Hardest part was figurin' out how to get the right size for your finger."

Cas smiles up at him, a little confused. "How'd you do it?"

"Waited until you were sleeping and wrapped some string 'round it." He pauses, as if he doesn't want to disclose anything else but then says, "Got the wrong finger on the first try, and goddamn, I felt so dumb havin' to go try it again."

There is really nothing that Cas can think to say that would accurately express how damn endearing that is without sounding condescending, so he just grins and leans over to press a kiss to Dean's lips. "I love you," he breathes on the air of a laugh.

"Sounds like you had a different plan of action."

"That's because I did."

"How'd you figure out my ring size then, Mr. Smartypants?" Dean asks teasingly.

"I borrowed one of your rings and made sure the one I bought was correct."

Dean pauses and looks Cas dead in the eyes for a few long moments, as if he's absorbing the information for the first time. Then, he bursts out, "Goddammit! Why didn't I think of that?"

Cas allows a snicker to slip through his lips despite his best efforts, and he quiets it by burying his forehead in Dean's neck to press a kiss there. It's one of Dean's biggest weaknesses; within seconds, he's pulled Cas's shirt out from the place where it was tucked into his jeans, and his hands are wandering the warm skin of Cas's back. They fumble their rings onto their fingers quickly so as to not lose them in the inevitable actions that are to follow.

"I love you, Dean. Thank you," Cas whispers against Dean's lips when he finds it in himself to drag his kisses away from the area that is causing Dean to buck his hips wildly into the other man's.

He gets an "mmph" in response from Dean that he takes to mean an acceptance of his thanks and a reciprocation of his words. He doesn't care too much to dwell on it, not when his own hands are working open Dean's blue jeans to get at the hardening flesh beneath.

Pretty soon, Dean flips Cas over onto his back. The thrill of being so out in the open is getting to the both of them, and it's driving Dean wild, the thought that Cas, the guy he once assumed to be nothing but a mild bookworm, has a bit of an exhibitionist streak in him.

They both push any worries they may have of being caught to the back of their mind, mainly because they can think of nothing but the body of the man before him. Dean slides down Cas's chest until the front of the man's jeans sits before him. Within seconds, he has them unzipped and yanked down past the man's knees.

"God, I wanna keep you here all damn night," Dean mumbles as he mouths at Cas's erection through his underwear. "Wanna take my time with you, make you come before I even get my cock in you."

"D-Dean." The word slips, almost unheard, on the breath of a soft moan while his fingers card through Dean's hair.

"I know, baby, I know. But we gotta be quick tonight. Can't let anyone see." He drops a soft kiss on the skin just below Cas's navel, lingering there for a brief moment in order to breathe in the scent of the man's skin, to feel his body heat and know that his deepest desires have come true in the personification of Castiel Novak. Here is a man who is aesthetically pleasing, intelligent, also gay, and, most incredibly, shares the attraction that Dean feels toward him, who has, in fact, just planned out a date with the specific intent of giving him a ring to symbolize the fact that they love each other, and who is whispering Dean's name over and over like it's the name of God gracing his lips.

So, yes, Dean feels that he's earned that moment of reverence, even if they are worried about being caught.

"Dean, please." The words stumble awkwardly out of Cas's lips and are the most beautiful thing Dean has heard. He finds himself being tugged upward as the man continues, "Please, please, please."

A wicked grin spreads over Dean's face as he ducks down to nip at Cas's lips. As he does, he pulls down both Cas's underwear as well as his own jeans. The fact that they haven't actually rid themselves of their clothes makes their motions a bit awkward, but after a few seconds, they both seem to adjust.

"Need me to get lube?" Dean asks against the other man's lips.

"N-no," Cas breathes. "Just go slow at first."

Dean goes as slow as he can manage, and he deserves an award for how much self control he musters up, because the soft moan being ripped from Cas's throat makes Dean want to ravage the man right then and there.

Once he's buried completely inside of Cas, Dean drops his forehead on the man's shoulder. They're both already panting, and Dean is pleading, "I need you, Cas, baby, baby, I need you so bad."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

It's the only prompting Dean needs. With one hand on Cas's hip and the other gripping Cas's hand, he begins to thrust slowly. For once in his life, Dean finds that he doesn't want to take things as fast as possible. Instead, he wants to relish each slow grind of his hips, each gentle cry that he kisses right out of Cas's mouth, each tightening of Cas's fingers as he hits the man's sweet spot. He wants to watch the way Cas squeezes his eyes shut for just one brief moment when pleasure overtakes him only to regain eye contact after one frantic beat of the heart, leaving Dean feeling like he's drowning in oceans and summer skies and sapphires. He wants to watch Cas pant and sweat and tense and feel.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," Cas whispers as if it's the only word consuming his consciousness.

"I'm here baby. I got you. Not gonna let you go," he promises, and he doesn't. Dean and Cas are pressed so tightly together that you couldn't find space between them if you tried. As their movements pick up in pace, Dean drops his forehead to Castiel's, and they hold their intimate staring contest from that vantage point.

As heat builds up in Dean's stomach, he begins to grind into Cas more than he does thrust, which earns him a long, low moan from somewhere within the other man's chest. It takes Cas a few tries before he can choke out, "So close, Dean."

Dean himself is too far gone to even articulate words, and with one more clench of Cas's body, Dean comes while groaning out Cas's name. He's seeing stars, but he fumbles his way to Cas's cock and begins to stroke it nonetheless. He feels the man arch his back off the ground, gasping senseless pleas before he, too, comes soundlessly, his mouth hanging open and waiting for words that he's too overwhelmed to make.

Cas reaches up and pulls Dean into a frantic, breathless, and frankly sloppy kiss. They don't have enough air in their lungs for it to be more than just a brief entanglement of their tongues that shouldn't be as hot as it is.

And when they finish, neither of them can find words, so Dean rolls off of Cas to keep from squishing him, and they both stare up at the clouds as they roll across the dark sky, their jeans still shoved down around their knees and come still staining their t-shirts. Anyone could stumble over them, but for a few minutes, they can't be bothered to worry about that.

"You're so damn perfect, Cas," Dean murmurs, finally breaking the silence. He turns to give the man his best goofy grin, and it's so contagious that Cas catches it, too.

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Awh, shuddup." Dean playfully pushes Cas's arm, but it doesn't hold much conviction, as most of his body feels like it's been reduced to jelly.

The other man just smiles again and suggests, "I believe it'd be a good idea to cover ourselves and clean up."

Dean groans. "I don't wanna move. Just stay here with me, Cas, huh?"

"I would love to," he begins as he stands up, "but it would not bode well for either of us if we were caught in the act out here. Again."

And though he grumbles and moans, Dean follows Cas's lead. The both yank their jeans up to appropriate levels once more, and it's now that Dean spots the reminder of Cas's orgasm staining his t-shirt as the man loads the remnants of their dinner into their picnic basket.

"Man," he sighs dejectedly. "Cas, we're gonna hafta start strippin' all the way. I ain't gonna have any clothes left to wear."

Cas turns and looks at him with the most serious glance and states, "I wouldn't mind."

Dean just about chokes at the simple way the man says it, and it takes him several long moments before he can even splutter out, "Yeah, well. Guess it'd give us a reason to stay in bed all day, huh?"

"If only." Smiling, Cas hands Dean their blankets, and the man finds another rock on which he can fold them.

"Can you imagine," he calls over to Cas. "I'd call up Bobby; 'hey, yeah, can't make it into work today. Cas came on all my clothes so I'll just stay home'."

"Sam would be absolutely thrilled."

The older man can't help laughing at that; to be fair, imagining a constantly-disturbed Sam is comedy gold. Even Cas finds it hilarious, and the both of them, hand in hand, giggle their way through the forest and into the front seat of the car, where Cas wiggles under Dean's arm and rests his head against the man's chest.

"Maybe one day," Dean sighs on the tail-end of his final laugh. He cards a hand through Cas's hair, then starts the car. "We could retire together. Get some cabin out in the middle a' nowhere and just walk around naked all day."

"That would be wonderful." Cas's voice is already heavy with an exhaustion that Dean himself is feeling.

"Hey." He pokes Cas's side gently. "Don't you go fallin' asleep on me. I gotta have someone keep me up on the way home."

They find mindless things to talk about on the way home: the book Cas just finished, why Dean really digs jazz music even though he won't admit it to anyone else, how Sam just charms the pants off of all the old ladies while their husbands scold him for his long hair. By the time they get home, they're both yawning so much that it's hard to talk. They drag in all of the things they brought to their picnic and shed their clothes like skin once they get into the bedroom, because, as Dean mumbles, "Don't want Sammy to pitch a fit 'bout clothes on the floor again."

Clad in nothing but one another, Dean and Cas crawl into bed together. Dean thinks that it was easily the best damn sleep of his life.

__________

Unfortunately, that sleep is interrupted by a sharp knock on the bedroom door, followed by the entrance of one Sam Winchester within the blink of an eye. Both Dean and Cas are startled out of their dreams, and Dean has just enough time to shout, "Jesus!" as he frantically tries to reposition the blankets so that at least Cas is covered.

Despite his excited flurry, Sam still covers his eyes and cries, "Oh, God, I should have waited! Are you two decent?"

"We are now, Sammy," his older brother grumbles. "The hell do you want?"

The two men on the bed can't be bothered to do much more than cover themselves, so they're still tangled up in one another with wild hair and the bruises from their hands and sucked kisses littering their skin.

"I'm gonna ignore that you're naked," he tells them.

"Yeah, okay, get to the point."

"Jess said yes," Sam spits out in a breath, his grin so damn wide that it almost makes it difficult to understand his words.

And, even for all of his nakedness and forced awakedness, Dean smiles. "That's great, Sammy! I knew she couldn't turn down a stud like you."

"Can it, Dean." Sam rolls his eyes.

"Naw, it's real great, though. I'm happy for you two."

"As am I," Cas adds with sincerity, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Thanks, guys," Sam grins. He's far too happy to even be slightly put off by Cas's intrinsic formality.

"Where's the lucky lady?" the older man asks Sam as he rubs sleep from his eyes.

"Here!" Jess exclaims, popping up behind Sam. She doesn't bat an eyelash at Dean and Cas's nakedness. Instead, she waves at them cheerily, and the two men respond with the most energy they can so early in the morning. "We're actually heading to buy our house today. My parents are on board, and they're heading out with us soon."

"Gee, that's great, you guys." Dean can't find any other words, so he merely echoes what he said before. That's the result of a mix of his still-muddled brain and the flood of abandonment that Sam's leaving is causing him.

"You two need to come see the place. It's real cute. Even has a white picket fence," she muses, a loving look in her eyes as she looks at Sam. It almost makes Dean feel guilty for wanting to keep his little brother all to himself.

"Bet we'll spend a lotta time there helpin' you two get settled in, huh?"

"Oh, sure. We'll need as many tough guys as possible to cart all our shit in there," Jess laughs.

"Anyway, we should probably get goin'." Sam trails off and makes to leave, but Jess stops him by grabbing onto his arm.

"Wait!" She turns to Dean and Cas, flashing them a bright smile. "How was your night?"

Dean, still squinting at the light from the door, gives them a thumbs-up. "Wild."

"I can see that," Sam mutters, just loud enough to make sure that Dean can hear him.

"I'd throw a pillow at ya, but I'm not riskin' my comfort for your sorry ass," Dean informs him. "Now get the hell outta here, Sammy. And Jess, have a lovely day."

Jess laughs while Sam pouts, and they both exclaim, "We're real happy for you two!" as they make their leave. As soon as the door shuts, Dean collapses back into Cas's waiting arms and snuggles into his neck.

"Do we have to get out of bed today?" he groans into the other man's warm skin.

Cas runs his fingers through Dean's hair. "I don't see why we'd need to."

"You're perfect." His grin is so damn wide that Cas can feel it, even with Dean's face hidden from sight.

Cas, for his own part, just hums and kisses the top of Dean's head. It's nice, that for a while, it can be just the two of them, that the judgmental world beyond their bedroom door can dissolved into the warmth that they share between them. They may not be the two most fortunate men on earth, but they have each other, and even that is far more than they could have ever asked for.