As If

“Let’s get started on fixing that door, then,” Dean says, placing his mug on a coffee table and turning to inspect the crime scene once more.
Getting it done is actually a piece-of-cake and Dean would accomplish that task a lot sooner – weren’t it for Cas and his eyes glued on Dean’s back, something Dean notices the first time he turns around and catches sight of Cas looking at him.
They stay quiet while Dean works on the glass pane.
“Cas, can you hand me the, uh, the thing. From the corner of the box,” Dean says, lowered in front of the glass door.
“What thing, Dean?” Cas replies and Dean hears him get up.
“The thingwith that other thing at the top,” Dean says cleverly – his mind seems to be stuck. He extends his hand backwards to reach for the toolbox, his hand landing on something less like the metal toolbox he was aiming for and more like the denim clad knee of the man who just moments ago was sitting on the couch.
He freezes with his hand hovering over Cas’ knee, feeling unsure of how to laugh this off, when Cas’ hand slides over his and he kneels next to Dean.
“Here’s what you asked for, Dean,” he says in a low voice, slipping the thing that he managed to get in Dean’s palm. Dean swallows hard, staring wide-eyed at the face that is inches away from his. Cas’ tongue darts out, wetting his lips and Dean’s eyes follow the motion.
Before he realizes it, Cas’ mouth is on his own, warm and demanding. Dean sighs against Cas’ lips, lowering further so he’s on his knees as well. Cas slides an arm around his waist and rests it on the small of Dean’s back, pulling him closer.
His tongue trails over Dean’s lips and Dean parts them eagerly, deepening the kiss.
Cas pulls back, breaking their kiss and smiling, leaning his forehead against Dean’s.
Dean, panting lightly, kisses the corner of Cas’ mouth, then moves downwards, planting small kiss along Cas’ neck. Cas swallows hard, his breath catching in his throat as Dean bites him lightly at the spot where his neck meets his shoulder.
He pulls Dean higher again, pressing open mouth kisses on his jaw line and moaning deeply when he feels Dean’s hand slipping underneath the fabric of his t-shirt.
Dean somehow manages to pull them both towards the couch, settling between Cas’ legs. Pulse racing, he kisses Cas’ again, slipping his tongue inside the other’s mouth and feeling his moans vibrate under him. He shudders, fingers tightening around thin hips.
Cas wraps his legs around Dean’s knees, bucking upwards and pulling him closer at the same time. A sharp moan escapes Dean’s lips at the sudden friction, and he blacks out for a second before composing himself – kind of – again.
Hands shaking lightly, he starts to unzip Cas’ jeans but before he realizes, Cas rolls them over getting on top of him, straddling his thighs. He leans forward, biting Dean’s pulse point lightly, before sucking over the teeth-marks.
Dean looks up at Cas’ eyes, all-black pupils rimmed with blue, breathless. Cas lowers, lifting Dean’s hoodie and the t-shirt underneath, softly kissing the exposed strip of skin. He slowly pulls the zipper on Dean’s jeans down with one hand, his other tracing lines over his inner thighs.
Dean’s brain has stopped functioning ever since Cas attacked his mouth with his, but that doesn’t stop it from sending bolts of electricity through his body as Cas pulled his pants lower, along with his boxers.
The next moment Cas’ mouth is on him, hot and wet. Dean presses his head hard against the couch, his eyes rolling backwards in his head and a loud moan escaping his lips. Cas grabs his hips, grip tightening as he increases his pace.
“Jesus Christ, Cas,” Dean moans, his hand grabbing fistfuls of Cas’ hair as the man sucked him off, dark eyes locked on his. He feels the heat pooling at the pit of his stomach, and he comes a few moments later, his moans echoing in the room.
Cas pulls back after a bit, pulling Dean’s pants back up and smirking at him.
“You should finish fixing that, Dean,” he says, voice even huskier than usual after the mind-blowing blowjob he offered Dean.
Dean swallows hard, still getting his head together, before sitting up and walking back to the door.
He finishes getting it fixed in a few minutes, seeing as there were minor details left to be dealt with.
“All ready, I guess,” he says and gets up, wiping his hands on his thighs. Cas walks up behind him and looks at the newly fixed-up glass door.
“Thank you, Dean. You didn’t have to and I’m really grateful that you offered to help,” he says, his breath warm on the back of Dean’s neck, making him shiver.
He turns around slowly, looking into Cas’ eyes, breaths mixing between them. He plants a kiss on the man’s lips, pressing his palm flat over Cas’ crotch. Cas’ eyelids flutter close and when they open again, lust is swirling in them.
“You should go, Dean, before I lose my composure and do something I really shouldn’t do – not yet,” he growls and pulls away from Dean’s touch.
Dean’s stomach jumps at those words, but he gulps and obliges, grabbing his keys and heading out the door. Cas leans against the doorframe, watching him as he walks to the car.
Dean doesn’t look back at Cas while he’s walking, before he gets in the Impala and starts the engine. Then he lets himself look, only to see the man leaning his head against the doorframe, eyes closed and lips parted.

* * *
Sam is not home when Dean gets there, having gone to the mall to buy office supplies – as the post it on the fridge informs him.
Dean tries to keep himself occupied; calling Bobby to tell him that the car is done and he can come pick it up tomorrow – Bobby thanks him for the work, promising to bring him the money when he comes in tomorrow. He then wastes sometime watching the news on TV, but nothing way too important or exciting is happening for him to be interested.
Sam comes back half an hour after Dean, arms full of folders and paperclip boxes. He bumps into Dean outside the study. He pauses, looking at his brother for a second before his eyes widen.
“Oh my God, is that a hickey?,” he says, lifting the folders to shield his eyes. Dean’s face flushes, and he lifts his hand to his neck.
“We, erm…I, uh, he…”
“I don’t want hear it, gro-oss!”, Sammy whines and hurries past Dean. “I don’t wanna hear about my brother’s adventures with the blue-eyed angel of his life”.
“Whatever Sammy.”
Sam pretends to gag before he closes the door to the study. Dean would rather not talk about what happened this afternoon so he goes upstairs to take a shower instead.
He comes back downstairs to find Sam heating a pizza in the oven.
“Pizza, awesome,” Dean grins and throws himself on a chair. Sam places the plate with the pizza on the table and sits opposite from Dean.
“Bobby’s coming in tomorrow afternoon, to take the car,” Dean says in between bites. Sam looks pleasantly surprised.
“You finished it already?”
“Yeah, I had it for nearly a week so I figured I should get it done before Monday,” Dean shrugs. “It’ll be nice, I’ll ask him to stay for lunch.”
“That sounds good,” Sam says, grabbing his second slice of pizza – the first one having disappeared down his throat.
They watch some movie on TV after dinner – Dean doesn’t really pay attention to it – before they both give up and go to sleep around eleven. Dean gets into his sleepwear and gets in bed, letting Cas slip back inside his mind right before he falls asleep, dreaming of the blue eyed man once again.

* * *
Dean wakes up the next morning to the sounds of Sam messing around downstairs. He groans, getting up and sleepily walking to the source of the noise.
Sam is all dressed up and putting the dishes away – judging from the way he looks at him, Dean must look the opposite from his hyper, full-of-smiles brother.
“I bought pie when I went to the store, earlier, it’s in the microwave.” Sammy hasn’t even finished his sentence before Dean walks towards the microwave.
Dean pulls the plate with the pie out of the microwave, grabbing a fork out of the drawer, and leans against the counter. He sees Sam looking at him with his mouth gaping, as if he was about to tell him something but stopped.
“What?” Dean asks, brow furrowing.
“It’s New Years Eve tomorrow, Dean,” Sam replies.
“So?”
“We’re spending it at Bobby’s, he called me while I was on the way here.”
“Awesome. What’s the problem?” Dean adds, sure that there’s more to that, since Sam is making a face while telling him.
“Just figured I should tell you; you can invite Castiel over too, I don’t think Bobby would mind – and though we’re staying over at his too, he’s got a spare guest bedroom.” Dean really doesn’t like what Sam’s tone is implying.
“Sammy, you sound way too rehearsed for this,” he says, eyeing his brother suspiciously. “Why?”
Sam rubs the back of his neck anxiously but doesn’t say anything, which makes Dean grow even more suspicious over what might have gone down.
“Sammy.”
“Well, I might…eh…have told Bobby.”
“Told him what?” Dean’s expression is horrified.
“About your boyfriend?” Sam’s reply turns into a question in the end and he looks up at Dean with a puppy look in his eyes. “He was surprised, yeah, but he sounded happy for you.”
Dean’s expression is frozen on his face now. “But what did you tell him? You didn’t even know – you haven’t even talked to me about yet!”
Sam’s guilty expression melts into a ‘are-you-kidding-me-right-now’ bitch face.
“Seriously, Dean, even a blind man would be able to tell that something’s going up between you two. Regardless whether it took you a couple of days to figure out,” he laughs, rolling his eyes.
“Dean, just so you know, I’m excited to see you with someone, as well,” Sam adds, smiling.
“You’re acting like I’m some hermit that stays bundled up in blankets all day,” Dean groans but rolls his eyes, finishing his pie and throwing the plate and fork in the sink.
“You’re gonna wash that later, Dean, I just washed mine.”
“Whatever, Sammy.”

* * *
Bobby arrives at noon, hooking the now fixed car onto his truck before getting inside the house.
“Bobby, you’re staying for lunch, right?” Sam calls from the top of the stairs, towel wrapped around his waist and hair wet and wild.
“I guess that’s about right, boy,” Bobby says following Dean into the living room. “What are we having?”
“I have no idea, ask Sammy. All I know is that it’s steak and that it smells awesome,” Dean says, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
“Sammy’s been telling me about some guy that you idjit have been too macho to make a move on although you fancy him,” Bobby says, trying to be indifferent about it.
Dean laughs a bit uncomfortably but tries to keep his tone natural.
“Yeah, he told me about that. He also said you two made plans in case I got him to come along”.
“Well, yeah. You’re dumb enough to refuse to ask him in case we wouldn’t fit, son”.
Dean looks at Bobby, trying to decipher his expression, see if there’s any bitterness hidden underneath – just like it’d be the case if he were having this conversation with his father – but all he sees in Bobby’s eyes is kindness and care.
“I’ll ask him to come, but I don’t promise that he will,” he says, realizing with a sting that what he says is true – he doesn’t know if Cas will want to spend New Year’s with him, let alone go on a two-day trip to Bobby’s – and he worries his lip between his teeth.
“I’m sure he won’t have a problem, kid,” Bobby says, firmly patting his shoulder before turning his attention to the TV’s baseball game.
Sam walks in a few minutes later – his hair still wet, but at least he’s fully clothed now.
“Come on guys, lunch is ready,” he says and both men are eager to get up and get to the kitchen, the smell of steak motivating enough to get away from the game.
“That better taste as good as it smells, boy, or else I’m leaving”.

* * *
Dean calls Cas the next day, one day before New Year’s Eve. A little worried, he waits for Cas to pick up, his phone pressed against his ear.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Hey, Cas, hi. What’s up?”
“Nothing really, how have you been?”
“Good, I’ve been good. You?”
“I’ve been alright, thank you for asking.”
Dean smiles at Cas’ words – the guy has such an odd way of speaking, Dean finds it adorable, really.
“So, I’m calling to ask what your plans for tomorrow are,” he says, biting his lip.
“I don’t really have plans, my siblings have their own families to spend it with.”
Dean’s heart sinks at the sound of that – partly because of irritation towards Cas’ siblings and partly from guilt for having left Cas alone on Christmas. Suddenly, inviting Cas over for New Year’s seemed like a much better idea and he thanked Sammy internally for thinking of that.
“Sam and I are going to Bobby’s for New Year’s Eve and staying over for New Years Day as well and I wanted to invite you over as well. You know, if you’d like to come of course,” he says, nervously waiting for Cas’ reply. There is a short pause before Cas talks.
“Thank you, Dean. That really sounds lovely, but I wouldn’t dare intrude in you and your family’s lives – ” , Cas starts saying but Dean cuts him off.
“Don’t be ridiculous, man, we want you there,” he says incredulously. Then he adds, “I want you there”.
Cas’ sighs on the other end of the line and, when he speaks again, Dean can hear the smile in his voice. “Okay, Dean, I’ll join you tomorrow. Are you picking me up?”
“Yeah, be ready around six o’clock, I’ll come by to pick you up,” Dean says, relieved.
“Alright. I’ll be ready by then.”
“Okay, see you then, I guess”.
“See you. Oh, Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Dean smiles by himself as Cas hangs up. He slips his phone in his pocket and walks to the living room, where Sam is sitting on the couch, typing away on his laptop.
Dean flops on the couch next to his brother and grabs his beer from before.
They sit in silence for a while – the only sound being Sam’s fingers on the keys – before Dean breaks it.
“Cas is coming with us to Bobby’s tomorrow,” he says and he can’t fight the small smile the creeps on his face. Sam looks up the screen, hair falling in front of his eyes.
He shakes it away from his face and grins at Dean. “That’s great, dude. Look at you grinning like a cheesy idiot, it’s adorable!”
Dean ignores the teasing. “I told him I’m picking him up around six o’clock. We’ll stop by here again around seven to pick you up as well, before we get going, okay?”
Sam winces and nods. “I’d ask why we can’t just pick up Castiel and just go, but I’d rather not know what you’ll be doing in the span of an hour.”
“You’re right, you’d rather not.”
“Gross.”
“Thanks, I do my best to get that reaction out of you,” Dean chuckles, laughter getting louder when he sees the bitch face Sam sports for him.
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”

* * *
On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Dean is up feeling excited and hyper and wow, has it been years since he felt excited on such days.
He gets up as soon as his eyes are open, and it’s one of the rare times he is up before Sam. He gets downstairs and makes coffee, pouring himself some in a mug and walking around in his sweatpants, sipping it and looking around the house in boredom. On a sudden urge, he puts a Metallica album on the stereo and turns the music up.
Sam gets downstairs fifteen minutes later, hair a tangled mess and puppy-eyes sleepy.
“What are you doing? Are you on something?” he asks, yawning into his hand.
Dean shakes his head, too busy lip-syncing and playing air-guitar to give him an actual reply. Sam rolls his eyes and walks back upstairs to get dressed.
Dean decides it’s about time he got dressed as well. He takes a shower and puts on dark jeans and a black AC/DC t-shirt, pulling his zip-up hoodie over his head as well.

At lunch, Sam informs him that he’s bought something – from both of them, of course – to give to Bobby as a belated Christmas present. It suddenly strikes Dean that he hasn’t gotten Cas anything, even if he didn’t have to back then.
Sam notices his brother’s expression change suddenly and raises his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have to run to the store for a bit,” Dean mumbles, getting up and placing his half-empty plate in the sink before grabbing his jacket and car keys.

He wanders around the mall for a while, unsure of what to get his whatever-Cas-is-to-him-right-now, finally settling for a pale blue sweater – corny as it might be. He checks the time on his phone while he’s walking to the Impala and realizes it’s half past five.
He drives home, placing the wrapped sweater under his seat, jumping out of the Impala and rushing inside.
“Sammy, I’m going to pick Cas up. I hope you’ll be ready when we come over!”
“Got it Dean, I’ll be ready to go. Don’t get too carried away, alright?” Sam calls from the study, then laughing at his own comments.
“Hilarious!” Dean shouts, before going outside.

He gets to Cas’ house at five minutes to six. He sighs with relief that he made it on time and is about to honk when the door opens and Cas comes out, wearing a trench coat over a black suit. Dean is surprised by the combination, but it doesn’t look bad on Cas so he doesn’t comment.
Cas approaches the car, opening the door and getting on. The first thing Dean notices is how good he smells – it literally wipes out everything else in his brain, filling it with the scent that he has subconsciously registered as Castiel.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, turning his head to look at him. Dean smirks.
“Hey, Cas. Are we good to go?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
Dean turns the car back on, deliberately ignoring the waves of electricity that man next to him is giving out. Some rock station is playing in the background, turned down on the lowest audible volume.
“Where are we going?” Cas asks when it becomes obvious that Dean isn’t driving them back at his house yet.
“I don’t know, just driving around with you.”
Cas stays silent as Dean turns at a side-road on the highway, the car suddenly framed by trees on both sides. They sit in silence for a while more, Dean humming along and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Aren’t we supposed to get Sam and go to Bobby’s?” Cas asks, curious. Dean shrugs, slowing down.
“Yeah,” he replies, “but we’ve got an hour before we have to do that”.
Dean glances at Cas, seeing him swallow and look outside the window. He keeps driving at an extremely slow speed, looking at the road ahead, shaded by trees, when suddenly Cas’ hand is running up his thigh.
His foot falters on the brake, pulling the car to a stop. He turns to Cas, who returns his gaze just as intensely – the electricity between them reaching new heights.
Dean turns the engine off and there is a moment of silence, before he leans in towards Cas and his lips crash against his. Cas moans, fumbling with his seatbelt, unfastening it before climbing onto Dean’s lap, palms pressed against the headrest on the driver’s seat. Dean’s tongue coaxes Cas’ lips open, slipping inside and licking the roof of his mouth – he tastes like mint, chocolate and Castiel, which turns Dean on even more.
He rests his hands on Cas’ hips, thumbs caressing circles into them.
“Dean.” Cas’ voice is breathless and husky and it’s doing things to Dean’s mind. He moans a reply on Cas’ lips, rocking his hips.
Cas gasps at the movement of Dean’s hips and bucks his hips forwards in response. Dean’s hips stutter at the sudden friction, Cas snatching the opportunity to tighten his knees around Dean’s body, shifting his shoulders and letting his trench coat fall off. Dean reaches between them, zipping down Cas’ pants and wrapping his fingers around Cas’ growing errection.
Cas moans, throwing his head back and bucking his hips instinctively upwards, eager for Dean’s touch. Dean bites Cas’ neck, tongue darting out to lick the bitten spot, as he starts fisting Castiel, his hand pressed between them. He settles for a slow, steady rhythm, Cas rocking his hips at the same pace. He comes after a while, his grip tightening on Dean’s shoulders and his fingernails digging in, almost too painful.
Cas leans forward, growling obscenities next to Dean’s ear, licking a trail starting just below his earlobe and going down to his shoulder.
“Backseat,” Dean mumbles and Cas nods frantically, pulling himself off of Dean’s lap and sliding onto the backseat. Dean follows him, landing on top of him and immediately kissing and biting his neck, sucking all the while.
Cas moans Dean’s name again, and Dean suddenly feels painfully hard in his own pants. As if he felt his discomfort, Cas slides his fingers between them, popping Dean’s jeans’ buttons open and tugging them down his legs along with his underwear. Dean shifts to help him get them off, doing the same with Cas’ pants and boxers. Dean’s breath hitches at the sudden skin on skin contact, but he’s too busy removing the rest of Cas’ clothes to care. The other man hasn’t stopped kissing Dean wherever he can reach him, hips moving in small thrusts while he does so. His hands find Dean’s hoodie, pulling it off, half-dragging his t-shirt along with it. Dean helps him take it off, throwing it aside after it’s no longer between them.
Dean’s erection is pressed tight against Cas, who spreads his legs quite suggestively.
“Are you sure…” Dean’s voice trails off, sounding breathless and undone. Cas nods, eyes glued on Dean’s. Although Dean has been with men before and he has never been worried about hurting them, he feels a small twist of worry in his gut – somehow, hurting Cas seems more serious than it would be for any of his previous experiences.
His stalling doesn’t go by unnoticed. Cas wraps his legs around Dean’s waist, growling. “Dean, I’m not a fucking virgin. I want you in me now,” he growls and all of Dean’s worries about hurting him disappear when he takes one look at the man sprawled beneath him, lips parted and pupils lust-blown.
He positions himself , lifting Cas’ waist, and then he’s pushing in. The sound Cas makes is nothing short of an actual scream, his head snapping backwards onto the seat. Dean closes his eyes, not opening them until he’s all the way inside Cas.
When he opens them, he sees Cas looking up at him, short gasps escaping his lips.
“Dean, move, damnit,” he groans, fists clenching, trying to grab onto something.
Dean complies and starts moving his hips, starting out by rocking his hips, which then turns into full-length thrusts, Cas’ legs over his back causing him to slam into him.
Already having been nearly-undone, he doesn’t manage to last long before finishing, burying his face into the crook of Cas’ neck, who grabs on his back, dragging his nails along his back.
He pulls out after a few moments and Cas looks at him through half-lidded eyes. Dean leans forward, pressing open mouthed kisses on Cas’ lips and neck.
“We should probably go back to your place to get changed,” he whispers after a bit.
Cas nods and then gets dressed in slow movements, then helping Dean get back into his own clothes.
They slide back onto the front seats, Dean opening the window a little bit before starting the car, the cold air clearing the fogged glass. Cas’ hand stays on Dean’s thigh for the whole drive to his place, tracing lines up and down the man’s leg.
Dean hurriedly parks outside Cas’ house, seeing that they’ve got fifteen minutes before they have to pick Sam up. He follows Cas to his bedroom, hardly having any time to look around before Cas is handing him a plain black t-shirt and a pair of underwear.
“Your pair of jeans seems just fine, luckily. You should get a little washed up before putting these on, though,” Cas says, eyes roaming down Dean’s figure. Dean nods and walks to the bathroom, washing Cas’ come off his stomach before putting on the clothes the man gave him.

They get going on seven, arriving at Dean and Sam’s place fifteen minutes later. Sam comes out as soon as Dean stops in front of the house, carrying some kind of wrapped box in his hands. Cas is already sitting in the backseat out of politeness, so Sam opens the door to the passenger seat and jumps in.
“Hey, Castiel,” he says and Dean is thankful that he doesn’t comment on them being late.
“Hello, Sam. It’s good to see you again,” Cas replies, nodding sharply at Sam.
“Have you told Bobby what time we’ll be arriving?”
“Yeah, I told him we’d be there by ten, the latest.”
Sam nods, tapping his fingers on the box in his lap.
“What’d you get him?”
“A bottle of whiskey – I remembered some brand that he had said he couldn’t find around his place when I saw it on a shelf at the liquor store downtown, so I got it for him.”
“Oh, sound about perfect for him,” Dean rolls his eyes and looks at Cas through the rearview mirror. “You’ll like Bobby, he’s awesome.”
Cas smiles lightly and Dean smirks and looks back at the road.
“I’m sure he is, Dean,” Cas replies, his voice subtly wrapping around the sound of Dean’s name.
As if he hadn’t been moaning it into Dean’s ear less than an hour ago.