Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Knew I'd find you here."

Castiel doesn't look up, he's focused. With a measured exhale, he leans sideways and stretches his obliques, watching his form in the mirror. Rise and repeat.

"Seriously, Cassie, can ya stop for two seconds."

Finally acknowledging his brother because if he doesn't, Gabriel will never go away. "I could, but then I would have to begin the set over again."

The small blonde man rolls his eyes in true Novak form, "And that would be sooooo perturbing."

Ignoring the snark, Castiel hums and stretches.

"You'll never guess who just called!"

"Alright.

"Cassie, you're not even gonna try to guess?"

"Mmm, no. You said I couldn't, so why would I bother?"

Gabriel huffs and leans dramatically against the mirrored wall, directly in Castiel's eyeliner. "You're so grouchy! It's time to get over this funk. Inais is gone, good riddance, there's much bigger and better fish in the sea. AND, hush, I," there's the smarmy gloat, "just landed you the Megalodon of contracts."

"I'm retired."

"Oh, I've got a feeling you'll shuck the rocking chair for this one.

Moving into warrior pose, Castiel tries to fight the curiosity, but… with a deep sigh, he pauses his holy routine and stands up. "Just tell me, Gabe."

"L' Obsession!"

Startled and deeply yet cautiously thrilled, Castiel licks his lips, "Cupid's secret fragrance?"

"Yes! Huh, think I saw a glimmer of a reaction in your stone face, knew you had at least one sparky bit left." The asshole never fails to pick on him in true sibling fashion.

"Details, Gabe, please."

"Print and screen, going for 'a steamy bond story.' Love interest, diving off rocks into the Mediterranean, yadda, wet n' slippery, lips an inch away. The usual rile 'em up stuff, with a long one for holiday promos. But," that trickster smirk deepens, "Cupid wants you and… guess?"

Dryly now, "We've already established that I couldn't possibly guess."

"Ugh, ruin the moment! Dean."

There's no denying the bolt of lightning that shot from Castiel's ears down to his toes and right back up. In the less-sensible lobe of his brain, he's slightly surprised that actual lightning hadn't arced from his body. But he waits, watching his brother.

Who has zero patience, "Seriously, nothing?"

"I'm waiting for the punchline."

"Nope! It's all real, bucko! They want the two of you to put on a show and bring in the sales."

Unable to fully comprehend working with… him, Castiel focuses on what he can handle. "Where?"

"Monaco. Yeah, I'm surprised, too, these cats are throwing everything at this campaign. Like the good ol’ days. And they want you out there Tuesday."

"In five days?" Ah, now the whiff of anxiety rises, Castiel generally has several weeks to prepare. 

"Yup, Angel of Thursday. So get moving on your workouts, need you all bulked up."

Rolling his own eyes, Castiel deadpans, "Quite literally what you interrupted."

"Shaddup. So…?"

With a deep breath to settle the sensations whirling just below the surface, Castiel watches himself in the mirror. "Yes."

Punching the air, Gabe is generally dramatic, now is not an exception, "Whoo! Alright, I'm calling them back. You just do some squats or something." 

Alone now, Castiel is still searching his own cerulean eyes. Murmuring, "What did I just agree to?"

Dean.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Something loud and annoying is buzzing in Dean's ear, he swats at it. It buzzes on the other side now, pushing him. Mosquitoes don't push, maybe it's a fly? Whatever kinda bug it is, the freaking thing just yanked off his blanket.

"Dude, get up!"

"Lemme be, Sammy, I'm tired.*

"You're hungover, you ass. Seriously, get up."

Grumbling as is his right, Dean rolls and tries to lift his head. It takes a minute, the damn thing is stuffed with fuzz and he's dizzy. With Herculean effort from his damn-built arms, he shoves up enough to sit.

Blinking into the way too bright light, "What the hell's going on?"

"So sorry to interrupt your blackout, princess, but something big happened."

Holding up a finger, Dean shakes his head and immediately regrets the motion. He grumbles out, "Coffee."

There's a huff of, "Yeah, here," and a mug is in his hands.

"Oh, you sweet, beautiful thing," Dean mumbles into the steaming liquid.

"Gross, man."

"Not you, Samantha, the coffee."

The giant paces noisily around the room, probably checking Dean's mug every few seconds. Yeah, had to be, because the moment Dean tossed back the final life-saving caffeine, Sam started right back up. 

"You've got a new job, a big one. So you've got five days to clean this up and act like a professional."

Frowning at the empty bottom of the mug, Dean's slow to follow, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning no more partying, no more night clubs, no more–."

"No, the job, bitch."

"Jerk. Get this, Cupid."

Okay, that's got all his interest. Motioning his gargantuan brother on, Dean's acclimating to being awake. Well, at least to being semi-conscious. Each detail Sam shares adds to the caffeine zipping through Dean's bloodstream, yup, call him excited now.

"Seriously? Dude, that's awesome!"

"It's huge, Dean!"

"Shit, I've never done fragrance."

"I know. So, you've got to straighten up and get back to fighting weight."

"I can, yeah, I can do it. Fuck, okay… what should I do?"

"Yeah, because I'm not only an awesome brother, but the best manager for your sorry ass, I worked it all out." The giant drops onto the bed, which rocks it just enough that Dean's liquid-laden body quivers sloshily for a second. "I dumped all the crap in the kitchen, already placed a grocery order. You're gonna take the vitamins, eat healthy, work out twice a day like you used to, and," holding up a finger, "no booze."

Biting back a groan, Dean nods he can do this. 

"Oh, look what Ellen dropped off," Sam lurches up, leaving Dean wobbling on the bed. Seconds later he's back with two clear bags. 

"What… oh."

"Yeah, we're gonna jumpstart everything, flush the toxins from your blood. Dude, I can smell the whiskey."

"Yeah, well," Dean makes a conscious decision, 'cause this is a helluva career opportunity, "let's go cold turkey."

"There ya go! Okay, get showered and stuff. We'll run the ringer and get you fed."

Dean nods and stretches some super achy joints.

"Uh…"

Oh, he knows that tone. Eyeing his brother, his voice is gruff, "What?"

"Ah, so, you're co-starring in this campaign."

Shrugging said-sore shoulders, "Okay, I'm cool with that."

"Yeah, you're up with Castiel."

Yup, this is the point where Dean's brain just… can't. He tries, fails, blinks, stutters, swallows… nope! Stumbling to the bathroom, Dean purges every ounce of traitorous liquid.

Heaving against the porcelain, he tries again. The words are there, Dean Winchester will be shooting a steamy sequence with Angel Eyes himself … Castiel freaking Novak. Yeah, the words are okay individually, on their own, but strung together, they're explosive. And so is Dean's stomach.

A few minutes later, he's starting the shower, set at a scalding temperature 'cause he sure as hell is gonna scrub off every whiff of booze. Shouting now, "Sammy! Ask Ellen for two more!"

Castiel.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Following the porter into the suite, Castiel slides a cash tip and immediately unpacks his luggage. Focusing on refolding or hanging garments, housing toiletries, arranging his electronics and charging stations, it's his routine and a wonderful distraction. Well, it distracts him from the encroaching jet lag. Not from… that.

Responding to messages and a few emails, even his social connections' excitement fails to fully ensnare his firing thoughts. Best to redirect. Yes, that feels right. Castiel follows his body's demand, changing into running shorts and shoes, he's quickly on the beach, pounding sand. Relishing the way his feet sink into the soft granules, shifting just enough that every muscle of his body must work together to keep form, he runs. A salty breeze coils around him, the faintest spray from the surf dampening his skin, just to be evaporated by the summer sun. This is what he imagines flying would feel like.

He feels eyes on him, nothing new. He is a model, after all, quite used to being ogled, admired, desired for his body and appearance. Which is fine, Castiel thrives on being worshiped. But he doesn't acknowledge any of the whistles or calls for him to stop and say hi, and there are many on this moderately-crowded beach. No, he keeps running until he reaches the rocky outcrops, the surf kicking higher and louder against magnificent boulders. 

Here he finds a few minutes of solace, long enough to free his mind of turbulent thoughts. There is nothing quite like meditating while surrounded by sheer natural splendor. Clear minded now, Castiel stretches and for a moment considers diving into the sea. Tempting, the water would be just cool enough to soothe his muscles, the pull of the currents strong enough to keep the same muscles working. But that would be foolish; swimming alone is risky and Castiel is not reckless. 

Turning, he jogs back down the long stretch of white sands to the resort. An indulgent shower leaves his bronze skin glowing, nothing beats a salt scrub, especially when implementing the fine grains left from the sea. 

The stocked kitchenette offers his preferred dining options, as Gabriel always writes into their contacts. A pesto chicken wrap and spinach-watermelon smoothie are enjoyed on the balcony, as Castiel watches the teeming tourists below. Satisfied mentally and physically, he strips for a much-needed nap.

Awaking just as evening descends, Castiel walks himself through his mental exercises. Mantras chanted, he dressed for dinner. Fortunate to have a personal stylist, his cousin Balthazar keeps his wardrobe current and brimming. A cream boat-neck linen shirt, sleeves shoved up snugly just below his elbows, tan fitted slacks, and white loafers. A moment spent on his hair, he quickly decides to let it handle itself, as dinner will be outdoors anyway.

Aviator sunglasses hang from his neckline as he adds the final accessory. Forgoing the Cartier one that had been a gift from Inias, Castiel selects a simple Tag Heuer with a blue band. Years of wearing the gifted one nearly exclusively, as close to a ring as his ex would commit to… no, Castiel shoves the thoughts away. Linking his watch, he knows the blue compliments his eyes. Yes, focus on that. A glance at the face tells him he has ample time to make it to the restaurant. Castiel is never late.

But he is anxious. Repeating his mantra yet again, Castiel forces himself out the door. Down the elevator, through the lobby, east past three buildings and nodding to the valet as the door is held open. A host approaches and leads him to the patio. 

Hesitating ever so minutely at the threshold, Castiel takes a deep breath and steps through. The group is substantial, he recognizes several industry faces. His brother is easily located, the man has no decorum and has been known to laugh maniacally at funerals, so a business meet and greet is fair game. Gabe is speaking to a quote tall man, both snickering into their glasses.

"There he is!" Gabe dramatically calls out, "Almost late, brother."

Bristling and rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses, Castiel pushes back, "When have I ever been late?"

"I dunno. First time for everything," the man is ridiculously smug. 

"Hey!" The tall man holds out a hand, "I'm Sam. Sam Winchester. It's really great to meet you."

Castiel's heart thuds and he must resist looking around the crowd of mingling bodies, but reacts on well-practiced social muscle memory, "Hi. Castiel. Are you…?"

"Yeah, I'm Dean's manager. And brother, but I prefer to deny that most days."

Chuckling now, Castiel nods, "I often do the same," nodding to Gabriel.

"Rude, Cassie. C'mon, you've got people to meet n' sweep." 

Used to their routine, Castiel dutifully follows his brother as he schmoozes and rubs elbows. Introductions and polite small talk is made with set designers, makeup artists, videographers, on and on. As usual, Gabriel abandoned him part of the way through the crowd, a woman having caught his winking eye. Castiel continues. It's exhausting but necessary. And it's just drawing out the moment , the one Castiel has been quite anxiously awaiting. Declining alcohol, he accepts a Perrier purely for something to hold, to allow his fingers to flex around.

"I'm in love," the wistful voice is right at his shoulder. 

Castiel snorts, "Well, you haven't been all week, so you must reach your quota."

"I mean it, Cassie. Kali's incredible."

He has heard this quite literally hundreds of times, "Mmhmm."

"Oh, she's a tiger, a cobra, that tight body all coiled and ready to strike."

"Which would make you, what, the mouse?"

"C'mon, don't be like that! Kali's a professional ," the moon-eyed blonde now wiggles his eyebrows in the lewdest way, "Director of PR, she's smart and wily and, ooh, I bet she can get anyone to do anything ."

"Please stop."

"Look, there she is! Willowy body, red dress, see?"

Because why not, Castiel finds the woman in the mingling party. Yes, she appears to be Gabriel's type; meaning breathing. He hums in acknowledgement and glances away.

Only for his eyes to be caught in ocular quicksand. He's here. A tall man is stepping onto the patio and Castiel forgets to breathe.

It's Dean.

A vividly white smile just glows from a square jaw, sandy hair coiffed, eyes hidden by Aviators, too. But this man oozes confidence as he swaggers through the crowd. A black romper with an absurd yellow pineapple print must have been painted on; the tight fabric sticks to golden flesh with every motion. A gold chain sits on a tantalizing chest where the romper spreads halfway to his firm belly. Corded arms on display, toned legs that bow in a way that… Castiel gulps his Perrier, desperate to cool down.

Oh, he hears Gabriel chattering, but it's just white noise. Castiel uses the shield of his sunglasses to surveill the stunning man. Dean pauses and claps a few people on the shoulder, tosses back a couple laughs that are clear as a bell. When he reaches Sam, the beauty leans close and must be whispering. With his back turned now, Castiel can only stare… that ass is all cake, wrapped in the ridiculously appealing snug fabric. Please let that be angel food cake. Yeah, he finishes the water in one gulp.

Replacing the bottle onto a roaming server's tray, Castiel feels unanchored without something to hold onto. Oh, he notices when Dean turns and scans the crowd. Just like he knows that their eyes met, even if ostensibly blocked by two sets of glasses.

Gabriel coos, "Ooh, she just winked at me. Wish me luck, brother." And abandons Castiel.

He may have been floundering already, but a glance up finds Dean strutting in his direction… and now Castiel is drowning. But he doesn't flinch, he can't, it's taking all of his self-control to remain still and not… what? 

Dean is right there, a half-smile as he asks, "Castiel, right?"

"Hello, Dean."

A pink tongue flicks out and licks perfectly curved lips, so fast that Castiel would have missed it had he not been actively staring. Then, "So, uh, looks like we're gonna be working together for a bit. A lot of scenes in a short time." And he holds out one of the champagne flutes.

Taking the glass, Castiel's tongue is slippery from the whole drowning situation, "Yes. It may be a stretch, but I'm confident we can work everything in."

Those lips part ever so slightly, "Yeah."

Castiel wants .

Chapter Text

t took every bit of Winchester bravado to introduce himself to Castiel . The guy is a legend, like to the point he might be mythical. 

After changing his outfit three times and maybe rubbing coconut oil over every inch of skin, Dean was late to the elbow-rubbing. But the second he reached the opulent patio, he saw the stud. Fuck, who wouldn't? A blind man would see this guy, that freaking built body, the calm confidence he's known for, the one thing Dean can't see are his eyes. 

But he's damn certain he feels them. Yeah, when he worked up the courage to say hi, Dean nearly melted. They're both hiding behind dark shades. Well, Dean is. There's no way The Angel hides. And he… flirts? No, can't be, Dean's just freaking wishing for it. Because dear Zeppelin, the way the man said his name, that could drive Dean to a panting mess in a heartbeat.

Whoo, okay, focus Winchester.

Aiming for cool n' casual, Dean nods to the party, "Gotta admit, I didn't expect all this."

Cas doesn't even turn his head and Dean knows he's looking. Fuck, he hopes his tan covers any blushing. "Mmm, meet and greets are getting rarer in our industry."

"Bet you've been to a lot, though," Dean sips his champagne, he can do this.

"I've had many invitations, yes. But when it comes to… socializing, I prefer quality over quantity."

There's no way in hell that wasn't sexual. Fuck… okay, "It's new for me. Can ya throw me a bone?"

Oh, what the hell, Winchester? But there's no missing the smirk on Cas' lips… those thick, plush lips that literally drive the masses to their knees. Wait… Dean tries again, "I mean, is this just a fat cat dinner or are there expectations?"

Cas turns his pretty head and seems to look at the crowd, but Dean still feels heated. "Generally these occur when there are prolific investments into the product or sizable hype. I often view this as a very human method of assuring themselves of who they're relying on. I recommend paying attention to those you'll be working closely with."

Nodding, "Makes sense. Who'm I working closest with?"

"Me."

Dean forgets how to swallow his champagne, the bubbles just dying on his tongue as he chokes. Fucking hell, Dean's crumbling like a virgin at his first frat party. Scrambling for something to say, "Just, ah, the… them. Who else should I meet, Cas?"

The stud offers mercy, a true angel. He nods to various people and gives names, titles, what he knows from experience. But he adds caution, "Be careful, though, many of these people are demanding. They love to grab hold of a beautiful person and drag them around."

Because his brain has seceded from the entire conversation, Dean's tongue doesn't know what to do and just lets loose with, "You can drag me around."

There's a sharp sound, something tinkles. Cas growls. "Dammit!"

Shit, the guy had crushed the flute in his hand… his really big hand with long fingers… Unable to look away as the stud brushes his palm and stares at the shards on the floor, Dean asks, "Are you cut?"

"Yes." Cas pauses, "Oh. No, my hand is fine."

Fucking hell… Dean felt that from head to toe to cock. He can't form words just yet, can only stand there in a swamp of lust as a waiter cleans up the mess and another offers a tray of new glasses.

Declining one, Dean gives a half-smile, "Swore to myself, only one drink per day. Can't risk the bloat, y'know."

Judging by the invisible blisters left behind, Cas looked him up and down. "Dean, I'm certain there is no… bloating."

Okay, that was kinda easier to handle, because Dean has been actively working on his physique and alcohol intake. "Thanks. Uh, is it true that we've got a nude shoot?"

The stud sips his champagne and hums.

"I've never… I mean, I've done nude print before. Catalog, fashion, yadda."

"Yes, I saw the… spread you did for the Rodeo Drive Rodeo event."

Blushing furiously now, Dean's tongue feels swollen, but he adds some humor to his voice. "Hey, assless chaps are hard to pull off."

"They're meant to stay on, a wonderful look."

Why did Dean say no to champagne? He spots a waitress close by, he grabs a bottle of water just to parch his desertlike throat.

"Fuck, man, you're deadly."

A really sexy laugh cracks out and the guy grins so bright that Dean needs another pair of sunglasses. "Well, I find you rather inspiring, Dean."

"Ah, thanks… So,.what I was getting to, I've never done a nude shoot with someone else. How does that work?"

"I can't wait to show you."

Goosebumps. "I'll take any help I can get."

"Yes, I believe you will."

Incapable of processing that, Dean's still looking for a response when a loud voice bursts this uber-heated bubble.

"There you are! My stars!" A big guy, kinda puffy but smiling and seeming friendly is right there. He squeezes a meaty hand on both Dean and Cas' shoulders, saying, "I'm Wally! This is going to be the best product ever, I just know you boys will love it!"

Cas clearly knows what he's doing, holding out an… uncut hand. "Hi Wally, Castiel. I'm looking forward to this week."

"Good! Oh, we're all so excited to have you two under Cupid's wings!"

Oh, Dean connects the dots now that his brain agreed to come back to work. Wally Compo, some real bigwig with Cupid. Which is weird, 'cause at this insanely expensive restaurant, in a city so posh that Beverly Hills hides in shame, this guy is wearing swim trunks. That's all. Pretty much naked out here. Rich people.

Holding out his own hand, "Thanks for the invite, Wally. You throw a kickass party."

"Ah, I'm so glad you love it! Isn't this place magical?" The goof has a dreamy look now, motioning towards the sunset behind the hills, "Everything just inspires love. That's my favorite. I love love."

Awkward.

But Cas is a pro in every way, smiling gently, "I believe you're right. My brother Gabriel has already proclaimed falling in love with one of your people."

The goof's eyes grow wide and he literally claps his hands, "Really? Oh, I must see this! Where are they?"

Cas points out a couple seated closely at a table and the guy lumbers over to them.

"Dude, that's the brains behind the company?"

"Yes. It's surprising, I know. But I have only ever heard good things about their family.*

"That's cool." Noticing that people are taking seats, he bucks up and asks, "You hungry?"

"Voracious."

Yeah, there's the drool again. Playing it off, Dean quips, "What're you having? I saw the menu, everything either looked too rich for my palate or I just didn't know what it was, what to pick. I'm watching my figure," he winks. Then mentally slaps himself because he's still wearing sunglasses.

"I can for you."

Gulp. "... Watch me?"

"Mmm, yes. But I can also select dishes for you. I'm quite acclimated to delicacies."

Okay, now his voice is breathy and his goosebumps have taken flight, "Yeah, Cas. Uh, thanks."

"You're very welcome, Dean. Take a seat."

Dean finds himself moving, following the simple command. Demand? Request? Fuck. His place-card is found, Cas' is right next to it and holy hell Dean really likes seeing them like that. 

That's it, that realization… Dean's done for.

Chapter Text

Castiel's losing his mind. Worse, he's losing his self-control. Oh, he knew that Dean would be potent. Since he first saw the younger man two years ago, he has been quite a secret fan. 

Dean broke into the modeling world with a storm, just suddenly everywhere. Castiel is unsure of his origin, only knows what the gossip had said and that's always questionable. But every photo of the man was undeniably perfect, few people are that level of photogenic; the Angel knows, he belongs to a rather exclusive group.

Now here they are. Literally they are here. 

Castiel out of his brief retirement, a self-imposed sabbatical from the industry and world in general. Sure, the opportunity to model for Cupid is fabulous, but Castiel has been turning down offers from Valentino, Hermes, and so on for the past eight months. Hell, he skipped Fashion Week and The Met without so much as a pang of remorse. But hearing that name, the stunning and ridiculously radiant Dean, and Castiel are back.

Pausing as he places hors d'oeuvre onto a dish, the realization brings a flurry of warmth through his very core: Castiel is here for Dean. That's… a lot. It's new, wild, perhaps even wonderful. Oh, there's no denying that the man has inspired a return of Castiel's flirting. Something that had died out during his previous relationship, fizzling to nothing as the love also dwindled. Dean appeared flustered, but he didn't shy away, no, he had some devastating flirtations of his own. To the point that Castiel crushed a flute as the image of Dean on his knees, leashed, staring up at him in mind numbing bliss coursed Castiel's mind.

Fuck.

Chanting his mantra, he heads to the table. Taking his seat, he politely tries to not eavesdrop on the conversation between Dean and a marketing manager. But they are seated beside one another, so he doesn't miss much. Folding his sunglasses into his hem, he watches the waves slipping in with the tide.

But Dean cuts it short, telling the admin person that he's starving. 

Castiel turns just as Dean does, the beauty shoving his own sunglasses up. Oh, those emerald eyes are simply stunning! The color of life, so fresh and vibrant, warm with flecks of pure gold that match his freckles. 

"You are breathtaking, Dean," and he means it.

The beauty blinks and swallows audibly, his own voice a bit husky when he says, "Cas, you're gorgeous."

The moment stretches as they just look at one another. Castiel could swear upon his very soul that they're speaking through their eyes and it's something profound. It's perfect. 

And they are oh so rudely interrupted.

"Cassie, me n' Kali are gonna hit the town. Wanna lose the grumpy funky and come out?"

Choking down a growl, he doesn't even turn to face the irritating sibling, "No."

"Fine, be that w– well, howdy, Dean-o."

Intervening down purely to save Dean from utter harassment, he meets Dean's eyes again, "My brother, Gabriel."

The golden man smiles, "Hey."

"Huh," Dammit, Castiel hears a tone. Sure enough, "Know what, do me a favor, cowboy. Get this sourpuss to lighten up, show him a good time. Word is you're good at that."

Goddammit.

"Yeah, that's me." 

"Yay! See ya in the morning, lil bro. Don't wait up," and he blessedly just leaves. 

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"Naw, it's alright," though it clearly isn't. Dean's jaw is tight, he fiddles with his water. "My own fault."

"Gabriel is an ass, with zero–."

"No, I mean… I know my reputation," it's barely a whisper.

"I don't."

"Ah," Dean runs his jaw and looks away for a moment, shrugging. "Partyboy."

"Oh," Castiel blinks, "and?"

"What d'ya mean, and?" 

Frowning and tilting his head, Castiel is trying to see the problem, "That's not uncommon in our world, Dean."

"Maybe, but it's not what I want. Wanna be known for something else, something better."

"This won't mean much, but what I know of you, Dean, is your actual work."

Oh, there's a flash of hope in those lovely eyes, Castiel feels them. "Really?"

"Yes."

"That's, uh, that's cool. Thanks, Cas."

Castiel wants to say more, but there are too many people at this table and too many gossip fiends around. Instead, he nudges the plate towards Dean. "I only selected items that are, mmm, less extreme."

The man seems to inspect each small dish item, "Don't look half-bad."

Feeling a surge of pride that he helped Dean, Castiel ignores why that feels so good and just describes each appetizer.

"Shit, I was terrified you were coming back with, I don't know, oysters stuffed with truffles or something," Dean's smile is sheepish.

A laugh escapes at the very concept, "No, there's a gap between delicacies and absurdities."

"Yeah? What's something absurd you saw?"

Shuddering at the memory, "Sauteed frog legs accompanied with seafood broth."

Dean chokes on a laugh, grabbing his water and sipping briefly, "Who the hell comes up with stuff like that?"

"Vastly overpaid and unstable individuals."

"Ha! Okay, what's the most delectable thing," Dean nods to the plate.

"You." Ah, here we go again, fuck.

Dean again chokes, minus the laugh, now gulping his mineral water. "Fuck, Cas!"

Incapable of resisting, Castiel pushes, so curious for the answer, "You're a model, Dean, your very career is centered on your beauty. Why does it affect you so strongly?"

"Doesn't, I mean, not usually."

"And this is unusual?"

"No. Maybe. No, it's just different when… when you say stuff."

Suddenly realizing he had leaned close to the golden man, Castiel pauses but doesn't pull back, "Why?"

A long, loaded, heated moment passes as Dean glances from Castiel's eyes to lips again. Finally, there's a whisper, "You're Cas."

"I am. And you're Dean."

The faintest moan slips over those lovely lips, barely audible, but Castiel will hear it for the rest of his life. He waits.

Dean licks his lips and whispers, "Everything you say just packs a punch. Even how you say my name."

Oh, he wants to taste this enigma that calls to his very soul! Only allowing himself to move an inch closer, it's not enough, it's too much. Dean's breath puffs against his own lips, but he keeps his eyes on Castiel's. 

"Dean."

There's that moan again, Dean's eyes flutter, pupils widening. Beautiful. That faint accent is so much heavier now, "Cas, you're wrecking me."

Clamping down on his previously indefatigable self-control, it's tenuous now, but Castiel manages to sit back. His breathing, though, that's much harder to control; he's heaving as if he had just sprinted for a mile straight. 

There's something incredible here, and Castiel wants every piece of it.

Chapter Text

Dean's heart stopped beating, just gave up and went as slack-jawed as his actual face. So close, Cas was so close to him, just a breath away. Fuck, Dean was praying the stud was really going to kiss him, grace him with a taste of that perfect man. But he didn't, Cas just moved away and stared at him with those enormous ocean eyes. Pushing his fork around the plate, Dean's drowning.

He's interested, though, he's gotta be. Right? Fucking hell, Dean can't think of anything else, just fantasizing for the millionth time about having that God touching him.

With what he's hoping is an inconspicuous move, Dean shifts how he's sitting. Inching closer to the table, his chair scoots just a bit.

Feeling Cas' eyes blazing, Dean's own eyes commit treason and glance up. The stud is looking down at… oh fuck, there's no hiding Dean's hardening cock in this freaking romper and Cas knows . And that is freaking thrilling, Dean's cock gives a kick at knowing Cas is looking . And Dean knows that if the guy so much as raised that Dom brow or crooked a finger, Dean would drop right under the table and show him exactly how thrilling it feels… with his mouth.

Great, now he's at full-mast.

Blinking at the candle on the table, Dean forces himself to think of all the nonswxy things in this world. Okay, c'mon man, think! Several sweaty minutes of concentration and he sighs in relief, knows he could safely engage in polite conversation with those around him now. Except that Cas is seated just inches from him. Shit! Golden Girls. Sick puppies. Scraping the mollusks from Uncle Bobby's boat. Whew, okay.

Just in time, too, 'cause one of the P.A.s pops up, rambling about tomorrow's schedule. Work mode, Dean can handle that. He nods along, noting the important bits, knowing Sam will send him the actual itinerary. Whenever Cas asks a question or even does that insanely hot growly hum thing, Dean gets distracted. 

Next thing Dean knows, it's dark, all sunlight gone. Bracing himself, he gives in and faces Cas again. Dear Lord… the stud is speaking to someone across the table and the candle is flickering across his face. Pure. Fucking. Adonis. Dean's mesmerized, barely blinking, just watching. 

So he absolutely sees when the big guy places his cloth napkins on the table and scoots his chair back. Dean just reacts, grabbing his forearm. Cas pauses mid-stand, just perched on those insanely thick thighs, eyes wide and questioning on Dean.

Swallowing a lump of something, Dean stammers, "Wh–, uh, whatcha doin', Cas?"

There's that low, gravelled voice, "I'm heading back to my room."

"Oh, right. Yeah, it's late, right?"

"Yes, morning will come quite soon with the encroaching jet lag."

Dean must've made the right choice when he changed his outfit for the last time, 'cause he's definitely wearing his big boy panties when he says, "Yeah. Mind if I walk back with you?"

Holy hell, the stud smiles, "Of course, Dean. Good night, everyone." He finishes standing and… Dean realizes he's still holding Cas' arm, rising along with him. And Cas doesn't shake him loose. No, better yet, somehow freaking even better, Cas just somehow moves and now their hands are clasped. 

Feeling his fingers laced with the Angel's, Dean kinda blanks out everything until they're suddenly on the sidewalk. It's much quieter than the patio, calmer, and Dean's heart and mind get a chance to catch up on the current reality. The consensus is unanimous, Dean loves all of it.

They don't speak, just walking slowly. Dean can feel his own pulse pounding like Morse code where they're touching. A random thought popped in and Dean loves it, bet Cas can read Morse code.

Way too soon they're in the elevator. Yeah, things have been heated, just simmering between them all night. But in this small space, thermodynamics can't equate how hot it just got. He sees Cas' jaw tighten, his nostrils flare like a dragon and oh shit that's hot!

Pulling on his brave panties again, Dean turns slightly, angling towards the stud. Yeah, Dean has a good inch or two on him in height, but Cas is big. "Cas?"

Those cerulean eyes flare on him, "Yes, Dean."

But he chickens out, clearing his throat and saying, "Thanks for hanging out, and, uh, for being so nice to me."

That dragon melts into just a beatific face, "I enjoyed hanging out. And never thank me, or anyone, for being human."

That touched Dean so deeply that he blushes and shuffles his feet, "Not used to it, I guess."

"Well, get used to it, Dean."

The guy sounded so serious and a bit grumbly, and it's damn cute. Dean grins as they step into the hallway. Tugging Cas to a halt after a few seconds, he nods to the door, "This is me."

He definitely notices when Cas glances down at their hands, he feels the faintest squeeze before the guy lets go… and Dean immediately misses the touch.

"Good night, Dean."

Dean just goes for it. Well, halfway, but still, he leans in and kisses Cas' taut cheek. Yeah, he lingers for a second, but it's not long enough. "Night, Cas." Dean slides the card and ducks into his room.

He faceplants on his bed and just fights to control his breathing. His mind races, his heart swelling and taking up even more of his chest. Oh, Dean knows, he's not even gonna try to lie to himself. Sure, no way he's about to tell the Angel, but he can admit it to himself: Dean's falling for Cas.

Chapter Text

Castiel awakes before the first chirping of his alarm, same as always. The difference is that his cock is raging, throbbing against his stomach. With a groan, Castiel stumbles right into the shower. Turning the handle to a frigid blast and bracing himself, he steps in and promptly curses at the ceiling. 

But it helps, reducing his dripping cock to a more manageable state. Oh, he would love to stroke himself, to offer himself some relief after the intense night and the nonstop dreams about a golden body and green eyes. He can't, though, must maintain some level of control. Castiel knows that if he gives into his wanton desire just once, every moment he spends close to Dean this next week will be absolutely excruciating. He won't subject the beauty to an uncomfortable work environment, Dean deserves better.

Even as he thinks that, Castiel knows he won't be able to resist flirting, especially not after Dean held his hand and kisses him. No, there are some things mere mortals just cannot stop. But he won't do more. Fuck, this is hard. Literally.

Minutes later, he's again pounding the sand along the now-desolate beach. The sun is barely peaking above the horizon, it's early enough for the only sounds to be the surf and Castiel's breath. Settling into a well-practiced rhythm, exercise has always been his primary go-to for stress release, which is a boon considering his career. But sometimes it's just not enough. And this is one of those times.

Doubly so when he sees something moving in the surf. Skidding to a halt, Castiel's jaw drops when that something stands and walks out of the water. 

It can't be…

The most beautiful body he has ever seen steps through the gentle waves, the deep blue water oh so luckily lapping around bowed legs. Navy briefs barely cover anything, but also far too much. The merman steps closer.

"Cas?"

"Dean." He sees the man's chest hitch, subtle but Castiel will always see. Because he will always be looking. Oh, he's so doomed. "Good morning."

"Hey. Y'know, I was born n' raised on the beach and I still can't run on sand."

That tidbit is a glimpse into Dean's life, something Castiel finds himself needing to know more . "It took me a while to build up the ankle control, let alone the stamina. I'm sure you could, too."

"Man, I'm like four years younger than you. If I haven't gotten there yet, it's not happening." Which draws a laugh from Castiel, even as Dean grins. "Besides, these legs ain't made for running."

Shifting closer and responding before his brain can halt him, "What are they made for, Dean?"

The golden man's head drops back, lips parting with a nearly silent gasp, but Dean's as bold as be is beautiful. "I can show you."

A debased growl rises, surprising Castiel enough that he has a moment of clarity. Only a moment, though, because Dean presses them chest-to-chest and for all that's wonderful, rubs his chin against Castiel's cheek. "Hottest sound ever, Cas."

Castiel can't, he craves this man more entirely than oxygen, "Dean!"

"Kiss me, please."

He does.

In a heartbeat, he has a hand in Dean's oh so soft hair, tilting his back and that first contact is made. It's like licking a battery, tingling everywhere. But Castiel grips Dean's hip and tugs him closer, the second kiss more in the realm of grabbing an electric fence. When Dean moans right into his mouth and slides strong hands around his neck, Castiel thoroughly understands what little Timmy felt like on that perimeter fence in Jurassic Park.

He needs more.

Dragging his lips across Dean's perfect cheekbones, Castiel drinks in the flavor of Dean. Warm and sweet and salty from the sea, this is heaven. He licks up Dean's neck, nipping his earlobe and is rewarded with this stunning creature arching against him. Their cocks rub, both undeniably excitingly aroused. Another growl rises, causing Dean to shudder against him, a sneak peek of what Dean will feel like when he cums beneath Castiel for the first times. Or hundredth. 

Realizing he wants more than that, he wants a thousand times, he wants this , them , it's absolutely incredible. And the thickening emotion ironically offers back a tenuous thread of control. 

Dragging Dean back an inch, he knows his eyes are as fervent as these emeralds. He revels in the sheer beauty for a moment, "You are exquisite."

Dean doesn't speak, he just shudders again and stares as if transfixed.

Castiel grasps the tiny thread and tugs, just as he tugs Dean's hand until he follows. Walking into the surf, he keeps going until the water is at their elbows. Willing the cool water to help calm their intense reactions to one another, Castiel can't look away from Dean's flushed face.

"Cas, you…" Dean rubs at his own face for a second, "I really like you."

Heart trembling and filling with sweet marshmallows, Castiel knows his voice sounds broken, "Same, Dean. So very much."

Yes, this is his new purpose in life. This man. His Dean.

Chapter Text

Maybe Dean drank too much at Cowboyz and passed out. Or he tripped, fell and hit his head, he’s in a coma. Because he can't believe this is real life.

But dreams could never have this much detail. He can see the ring of black barely circling the azure of Cas' eyes. There's the faintest hints of brown in his black hair that Dean never noticed in any photo. That insanely deep timbre could cause a rockslide slide away. But the scent is the most real thing ever; Cas smells like spicy energy, the equivalent of a thunderstorm raising all the wild odors of nature and blasting through with lightning and the rain splattering the ground, he's petrichor in the wind. 

So… his brain comes to a consensus: this is real. Which means Cas is into him. 

He wants to wrap around this deity and worship him, but would that be too much? 

"Dean," sure, his knees shake a bit and it ain't from the waves, "I want you more than could possibly make sense.”

Yup, his entire body feels those words, Dean trembles. But he can buck up, for Cas he can, “Think I need you.”

There’s that freaking hot growl again, just sizzling up Dean’s spine and lodging in his brain on permanent replay. Yeah, the water is not enough, his skin is humming in arousal.

“But we can’t, Dean. We’re… working together.”

Disappointment starts to settle in, but then he shakes his head, clearing it, his next words are absolutely certain. “Can’t yet. Only this week.”

Oh hell, he must be right, ‘cause the god’s chest swells with a deep breath and he leans so close again, “This is going to be a very long week.”

“You’re telling me. Fuck,” Dean drops back to dunk his head for a moment. It helps. Kinda. “But while we… wait, we can be friends, right?”

He hears the faintest growl before Cas clears his throat, “Yes, friends.”

Relieved and stupidly thrilled, Dean grins, “Okay, friend, walk me back to the hotel.”

And the stud does. Unwilling to let Cas’ hand go, they walk slowly, close without getting out-of-hand. Ha! It’s cool, though, they share little bits of their lives, just basic stuff, but it feels awesome. When they’re  nearly to Dean’s door, he asks, “Can we ride to the site together?”

“Yes, Dean. I would like that,” there’s this smile pulling at Cas’ lips and it’s kinda wild that it’s aimed at him.

“Awesome! Hey, uh, I’ve never worked with someone as big as Cupid. What should I…?”

This deity just knows and that’s a whole extra layer of awesome, “Stylists will take care of everything. Just shower, ah, and dry your hair. No lotions or oils,” fucking hell, those sapphire eyes course his body, “just… you.”

“Thanks, Cas. Really. Ah, see ya in a few?”

“Of course.”

“Hey, maybe I can text you, walk down together?” Sure, Dean’s getting damn needy, but it’s impossible not to.

When Cas just smiles and recites his number, Dean memorizes it. No, he chisels the numbers into his brain, his body, pretty much imprinting them on his own ribs like a protective sigil. Even after adding it to his contacts and sending a message of “See ya soon,” the warmth stays lodged in his chest while he showers. 

A sheer, short-sleeved green linen shirt hangs open to his breastbone, tight shorts with dozens of seashells stitched in, slide-ons and he’s out the door. Maybe he paces and drums his fingers on his thighs, he’s just anxious to be near Cas again. 

There he is! Cas’ dusty blue beach shirt is cut-off, huge arms and a whole slab of sexy obliques on display. His shorts are white and must be threaded with steel to not explode as they stretch over those legendary thighs. Slurping up the drool that’s about to leak, Dean wiggles his eyebrows, “Looking damn good, Novak.”

“Says the vision,” Cas’ eyes burn him up. “I must admit, I’ve always been a fan of your bold fashion choices.”

Okay, he could wag his tail from the compliment. “Yeah? My best friend makes most of my stuff, she’s got wild style and likes dressing me up. Makes my life easy, y’know?”

“Mmm, I do. My cousin is my stylist. All I have to do is reach into the closet and grab a garment bag, everything is already put together.”

“It’s great!” Then his brain catches up as they descend in the elevator, “Wait, you said… you, you follow me?”

Cas’ intense gaze could set an entire forest on fire, his voice shaking the earth, “Yes. I am, mmm, a fan.”

“Dude! Seriously?”

“Of course, why are you surprised?” That head tilt is seriously so freaking cute.

“Dunno, it’s like getting onstage and strumming a few chords, just to hear that Jimmy Page thinks you’re killin’ it.”

Okay, that laugh should be recorded and played on-repeat ‘cause it’s beautiful. Cas is all gummy and gorgeous, his nose crinkling up in a way that has Dean dying to boop it. “Well, you are certainly more attractive than any Zepp.”

Feeling his jaw drop, Dean can barely remember how to walk as they enter the lobby, “You know Zepp?”

“Of course, I’m not soulless.”

“Nuh uh, you’re perfect, Cas.”

“Now you’re just flirting, Dean.”

Cheeky now, Dean winks, “Maybe. Can’t not. But you really like my outfits?”

“Mmm, no,” and there goes Dean’s confidence. “I’m jealous of your clothes.”

That went straight to his cock, he’s dizzy with the wild up and down, just mutters, “Gonna kill me, Cas.”

Seconds later, they’re coasting along in the SUV, seated next to one another and all Dean wants to do is climb the stud. But the P.A. is chattering about the schedule, expectations, yadda yadda. Dean has always been a stickler for knowing what he’s walking into, who’s gonna be there, how to present himself. This time, though, he couldn’t care less. His entire mind is flooded with Cas . He just hums and nods when the yapping voice pauses now and  then.

Enormous cerulean eyes are on him as plush lips move, “Can you ride, Dean?”

Slippery tongue exposes him yet again, “You’ve seen my legs, Cas.”

Nostrils flare like a dragon inhaling before releasing a torrent of fire.

But another voice invades their bubble, “Gonna take that as a yes. Solo shots first, you’ll only need to be astride for maybe 20 minutes, depending on how many shots we get. But the double-up needs to be finished this afternoon, we only have the grounds until two.”

It takes a few minutes for Dean to catch up, he just blinks and waits for the agenda to clear up. Oh. Oh! Fuck. Fuck yeah. Glancing at Cas, he sees the matching intensity right there and he is here for it.

An hour later, Dean’s in a chambray shirt, tight jeans and some wicked western boots. He’s holding the bridle of a black stallion as Cas climbs into the saddle. The stud is wearing an English equestrian outfit, those beige pants more fitted than air, like latex poured over so… much. A high-necked white shirt, black formal blazer, those stupid knee-high boots that have never been sexy until now. Cas is regal as fuck as he settles in, taking the reins and pinning Dean with his gaze before he kicks heels and the horse erupts into a gallop.

Fuck.

There’s a shout of cut and the director is spouting praise, calling out the men, “That was spot-on! Let’s keep the eye-fucking going, that chemistry is fucking visible!” Yeah, that Meg person is vulgar for the role, but she’s not wrong. And if Dean admits it, he may have forgotten he was being filmed and just behaved on instinct… and desire. 

The next scenes are of Cas coming back, sliding off the heaving stallion before even fully stopping. Dean’s in a stall, hosing down a golden chestnut stallion in the main barn, eyes wide when the beauty is just there. As much as the horse heaves and snorts, all worked up, Cas is a statue, just this rock-hard Adonis with blazing eyes. Their eyes meet and Dean could swoon. But he’s working, right, he locks his knees, squares his shoulders and looks up through his lashes. Cas tilts his head, eyes narrowed and steps forward until they’re an inch apart. 

“Cut!”

Another round of explicit praise and Dean needs to take a minute to cool off. He finds a secluded spot along a pasture fence. He watches the azure sky as the phone rings, casually realizing that even the Mediterranean sky can’t match Cas’ eyes…

“Dean! Ahh! What’s going on, is it totally awesome, I’m dying to hear!”

He chuckles and settles his chin on his forearms, “Hey, Charlie. It’s great, seriously. I’m definitely in over my head, but… everything’s awesome.”

“Oh my goddess, tell me!”

“Seriously. Your clothes are getting nods, you killed it. Ah, the director is kinda weird, but she’s not calling me out, so there’s that. This whole place is freaking gorgeous! I swear, the sand here is like 20x softer than at home.”

“Uh huh, yeah, that’s all great. But we both know what the real thing is. Tell me!”

Glancing around and lowering his voice, Dean can’t fight the grin, “He’s incredible, Charlie. I’m talking, even better than I imagined.”

“Shut up!”

“Mean it. We, ah, kinda hit it off last night.” Giving a run-down, he’s heated as he recounts the intense hours with the hottest man to ever exist.

“Dean, I love you like a brother and always will, but if you don’t make a real move, I’m gonna fly out there and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Ha! Dammit. It’s just, I get it, right? We’re working, should be professional, especially with a contract like this. But I swear to your goddess, everything Cas does is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He breathes, it’s hot. He rolls his eyes, my knees give out. It’s mind-blowing.”

“Ahhh! Okay, here’s what you’re gonna do…” and his bestie gives her advice. Decades of her feistiness has Dean grinning and taking mental notes, finally ending the call when someone shouts for him. 

Skin humming in excitement, Dean swaggers back to the barn. The Assistant Director calls out their marks, reminding them that there’s no speaking, the men are supposed to bring the essence of the fragrance to life non-verbally.

Climbing onto the saddle, Dean nearly swallows his tongue when Cas climbs up behind him. Long arms slide beneath his arms, taking the reins. One hand on the pommel, his other on Cas’ thigh, he forcefully extricates his tongue from his throat as Cas’ hand covers his. They start at a trot, moving to a canter on cue, and once the drones are keeping pace, Cas pushes the stallion into a gallop. Dean’s no novice to horses, has been riding the beasts for decades as part of the family business. But having a rock-solid deity bracing him from behind, Dean is swamped with erotic heat. They flow with the motion, bodies rolling in unison as they race across the verdant field, a cliff to their right. There’s the faintest brush of lips across his ear, he gasps and his eyes roll back, exposing his throat as he chases the feeling. 

All too soon, they reach the end mark. Dean’s still in a haze, unable to form words yet. But he sure as hell hears when Cas’s gravelled voice makes his demand. He tells whoever that person is that the horse is still hyped, doesn’t need a ride to the stable in a secluded trailer,  states he and Dean will ride back. Without waiting for a response, Cas expertly turns the chomping beast around and kicks his heels. 

The surge of motion has Dean all but melted against Cas’ chest once again, everything moving in-sync. But now, without the Argus-eyes of drones on them, Cas runs a huge hand across his belly, rubbing into the coiling muscles. Giving in to his volcanic desires, Dean moves both hands to Cas’ thighs, kneading into the titanium muscles. He wants this, oh fuck, he wants more!

The stable is within sight now, so he can’t waste time. Dipping his head back, he makes his demand, “Kiss me.”

There's no hesitation, the stud grabs his hair and tilts him at an unnatural and utterly hot angle, tongue licking his lips. Every touch is incendiary, flaring as the desire melts everything inside. Dean’s moan might have been lost to the wind as the beast below – not the one behind – races, but Cas finds it, groaning right back like the pure fucking Alpha he is.

Sure, he pouts as they slow and approach the occupied set, but who could possibly blame him? Dean does. But when they stop outside the barn and Cas holds his elbow as he dismounts, he’s awash in the heady feeling of this incredible legend offering the thoughtful motion.

The moment they’re on the ground, actual stablehands are hauling away the beast – the four-legged one, not the… three-legged one. Fuck. Dean chugs an entire canteen of mineral water. When he comes up for air, he feels it. Slowly turning, he follows the path of flames and finds Cas with a bottle in-hand, jaw tight and eyes locked on him.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Never has Castiel been so very tempted. Restraint and control are inherent components of his behavior, well-honed and exceptionally maintained. But now there is a crack in the foundation, the structure is surely crumbling. It's… wonderful. The crack is not dark or insidious, no, it's brilliantly bright and warm. It's Dean.

The sensation of their ride is forefront in his mind, their touches, their kiss. Oh, what he would give, or give up, to drag Dean to the ground here and now. Lay him out on a blanket over a pile of hay, to peel off those right clothes–.

"Looks like the ice cold Angel has some heat after all," the voice invades his fantasy. Meg.

Dryly as he discards his bottle, "I have exceptional range."

"I'll bet you do, sparky. Whatever this is between you two, keep it up. It's just what home office wants."

"Mmm. It's what I want," Castiel cannot and will not deny that he desires, he just must resist taking .

"Huh. It's been a long time since we worked together, Clarence. But I like this new you."

"So do I," and he stalks to the wardrobe trailer. 

Minutes later he has changed into his original outfit and is waiting by the SUV. Eyes closed, he's basking in the sunlight as he waits. But a warmer glow is felt. Dean is just a few feet away, vivid eyes on him, a small smile that is utterly beautiful.

"Hiya, Cas."

"Hello, Dean." 

A long, heated moment passes and everyone around them is again drowned out. When the vehicle rumbles, they both snap back to the current reality. Castiel opens the door and motions for Dean to climb in.

The golden man grins as he takes the middle seat, their thighs touching as he oh so cheekily quips, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you're trying to woo me."

"It's possible."

"What, uh," strong fingers dance across his knee, "what would a guy have to do to bump that to probable ?"

"Nothing." Castiel sees Dean's face crumble and curses under his breath, grabbing Dean's hand and following with, "It already is."

There's that glimmer again! Even in this blacked-out SUV, the golden flecks in Dean's eyes glow. It's enrapturing to see, let alone to feel them on him. 

"Okay, close call, though. Swear you almost broke my heart," the comment is flippant and accompanied by a grin, but Castiel sees more.

Unwilling to release Dean's hand, he lifts it to his lips and places a single kiss there. "Never."

The heat rises yet again and it does not dissipate on the short drive. But it's a comfortable warmth, one Castiel never wants to be without again. Only when they're out the door and headed to wardrobe yet again do their hands separate.

The chattering of crew invades Castiel's thoughts, he must focus on the expectations for this next scene. Never has concentration been so goddamn difficult!  But the view is worth it.

For the beach dinner scene, both men are in slim, black tuxedo pants. Crisp white shirts are left open, untucked. Castiel's bow tie is left hanging, but Dean's is perfectly knotted around his throat… and Castiel struggles to look away.

Constant voices arise as they film, scenes like this are quite difficult because you never know when a tacky boat will drift last or those horrific sea birds start to scream, or even, as they just experienced, a large crab crawls out of the sand and attempts to scavenge the food props. That last one was quite funny in itself, but the way Dean cracked up was nothing short of perfect. Seeing such humor and joy at just a little thing, oh it just shows more of who this enigma is!

While a P.A. hunts for new props and brings out the chilled fruit, the men take places on the beach blanket. Castiel leaning back on one elbow, a kee bent, Dean resting against his chest… perfect. 

With the brief intermission, Dean is still grinning about the crustacean. "My uncle runs a tourist trap in the Keys," just that sentence alone has Castiel intrigued, wanting to know everything. He memorizes every word from Dean's lips. "Sport fishing, crabbing, day trips, scuba, snorkeling, anything and everything possible on the boats."

"That sounds lovely."

"Yeah? I love it, y'know, the family business. Uncle Bobby raised me n' Sammy down there. Anytime I'm not working, I head home and, well, work," they both laugh. "But it's not actual work most of the time, 'cause it's fun. Sure, tourists can get real bitchy and hurricane season is terrifying. The rest of the time, it's an adventure."

"What's your favorite thing to do?"

"Being underwater! Give a snorkel or tank and some fins, I could live down there. It's like being in a different world. Everything feels different, y'know?"

"Mmm, I do."

"Yeah? Do you dive?"

Castiel smiles at the openly hopeful expression, "Yes. I didn't explore the seas until later in life than you, but it's addicting."

"Exactly! It's freeing, Cas."

"I agree."

He watches as Dean hesitates, his lips twisting for a moment. But this man is brave and bold, "It'd be cool to show you my home, Cas. Take you on an adventure."

His heart swells and Castiel's throat thickens, he has to clear it twice before he can speak. "That would be an honor, Dean."

Nothing else is said, they just hold each other's eyes and Castiel knows he can see Dean's soul. They're physically close, but Castiel feels them infinitely closer on the astral plane, their beings are all-but meshed together, two multi-dimensional puzzle pieces that can only fit one another, no one else.

A hand lands on Castiel's shoulder and he snarls before catching himself.

"Whoa, man, easy!" It's one of the coordinators. "I called your name three times, dude."

Castiel heaves a deep breath, eyes painfully tearing away from Dean's. "I apologize, Frank."

"All good. We got the shots, now we're gonna roll."

As the crew hand walks away, Dean's eyes are mischievous and he has the slightest flush behind those golden freckles. "I kinda didn't realize we, uh…"

"Same." Castiel helps Dean sit up, halfway listening as their marks are called out. "I was quite focused."

Ah, now the flush is a full bloom and absolutely stunning.

Repeating a mantra in his head, Castiel must divert immense effort into staying on task and not drowning in the emeralds facing him. But the universe is throwing every temptation at him; this next scene, he and Dean will be inches apart, Castiel feeding Dean grapes. They're supposed to be as intimate as possible without actually touching. Fucking hell.

Oh, a dead man could see the desire built up between these two. Hell, their flames may very well be visible from the ISS orbiting the Earth. It's incredible, it's profound.

His fingers don't touch Dean's lips as he slides a plump grape between them, just a millimeter separating their flesh. Dean's tongue draws the next one in, and Castiel feels the ghost of it across his throat. Teeth nip at another one, Castiel holding the fruit as Dean bites, then goes with desire and takes the remaining half for himself. Even as Castiel feels his own eyes widen and blaze, he watches Dean's grow softer, lids heavy and the sweetest sigh pouring from plush lips.

Without thinking anything more than I want to, Castiel all-but nuzzles Dean's neck. The scent there is intoxicating, heavenly, perfect. Using only his teeth, he slowly tugs at the bow tie, unraveling it, watching as the tassels dangle around an utterly tempting throat. There's a moan now, fogging into his ear, a beautiful sound that Castiel wants to hear on repeat for the rest of his existence.

Dean's panting lightly, Castiel is barely breathing, they're just hovering at the precipice once again. So close, just a breath away from making that connection, and Castiel feels the need in every cell of his body.

"Cut!" The shout startles Castiel.

Dean curses now, "Fuck, man. I swear, they're all against us." He drops to his back and dramatically scrubs at his face.

Tickled to see the man as moved as he is, Castiel smirks, "I agree, but it just means we're that much closer to… finishing."

There's a grumble now, "You're a tease, Novak."

"Perhaps," Castiel grabs Dean's hand and tugs him to his feet, leaning in to whisper against his perfectly-curved ear, "but I back-up everything I say."

"Napalm. That's you, Cas, actual napalm."

Castiel grins and offers some mercy by stepping back. The sea breeze finally has space to whirl and helps to cool them both.

"That one's getting saved to the spank bank folder," the smug voice can only be Meg. Sure enough, the small woman is smirking at them, "I was curious why Wally demanded Winchester to mirror the Angel. Someone fresh and all-but a blushing ingenue. Hmm, I see that blush. But now I think he was right. We like Clarence as the stone-faced warrior, but now he's ready to erupt like an actual volcano. Isn't that sweet? You boys got the work done in record time, which gives me my evening back." She just turns heel and walks away.

Dean's frowning, "I have no idea if that was a compliment or a d o better threat."

Castiel shakes his head, "With Meg Masters, there's no telling."

"Well, one thing I do know, you n' me killed it today."

"I absolutely agree," as they head to the wardrobe trailer yet again.

"Cas? It's still early. Would you wanna hang out? Maybe grab something to eat, check out the town?"

Feeling his gummy grin escaping again, Castiel is elated, "Are you asking me out, Mr. Winchester?"

The golden man winks and pulls his shoulders back, "Damn right, Mr. Novak."

"Then I gladly accept."

Both men sport smiles as they separate to change. Castiel relishes the happiness that blooms in his soul and feeds into his heart. For too long, Castiel felt cold inside, unhappy, unfulfilled. And now, in the course of just 24 hours, a renaissance has risen. Dean is hope.

Chapter Text

Dean again takes the middle seat, even though it's just the two of them back here. When Cas just smiles and doesn't call him out, Dean is in a whole new happy place.

"So, Mr. Hot Shot, you've been here before. What d'ya wanna do?"

"Hmm, I have an idea. Do you mind?"

"Nah, whatever you want, Blue."

And his tongue nearly falls out when Cas rattles off something to the driver, the two going back and forth before the driver nods and makes a turn.

"Cas, you, uh, speak French?"

"I do."

"That's so hot."

The stud laughs, just that crack in the air, as powerful as lightning and his nose crinkles again. Dean memorizes every motion. And maybe he makes a silent pledge to do anything he can to hear that awesome sound a thousand times. 

"Mean it, Cas. Look," thrusting his forearm against Cas' chest, "gave me goosebumps."

"Adorable, Dean," the guy looks seriously pleased. 

Feeling cheeky because this has seriously been a perfect day, Dean goes with the brash urge. "So, I heard that instead of calling someone sweetie or babe , around here it'd be something that means cabbage."

There's that laugh again and it's the best. "Chouchou."

"It's real?"

"It is, but it's not literal. Not calling anyone a leafy green crop, more like… the equivalent of sweetie pie."

"Ha! Okay, that's not so bad," Dean just keeps going, riding this cloud of excitement that just keep rising when he's around Cas. "Full truth here, I love pie. That's not an exaggeration. If I could get away with it, I'd eat it with every meal. Hell, it'd be my meal."

"A sugar tooth?"

"Maybe, but pie's up here," tapping the roof of the truck, "everything else is like here ," tapping his knee.

"Ah, so an actual fiend."

Nodding with a serious face, Dean admits, "It has been said." Sure, he kinda loves the way Cas rolls his pretty eyes. "What about you, what's your weakness?"

The silence is brief but holy hell did the temperature spike! It's like Cas is the actual embodiment of fire, just breathing flames and leaking them through his flashing eyes. But the deity clears his throat and clearly has better self-control than Dean, 'cause Dean sure as hell sees those tawny fingers reach and then curl up. Dammit, Cas wants to see him snap. 

"Desire isn't a weakness."

… Thud… Yup, that was Dean's heart, there was a long pause in-between beats 'cause his entire system just froze. When blood flow slowly makes its way to his sluggish brain, Dean manages to blink, but he sure can't speak yet.

Cas' voice is so low that the Geological Survey people are probably freaking out over all the alarms. "Wanting something more is okay," sapphires blaze again. "I'm finding myself yet again jealous of inanimate objects."

Okay, Dean's struggling with that one. Wait… oh. Oh! He rallies every scrap of Winchester bravado. Eyes on Cas' lips because he just can't not look, "My clothes?"

"Mmm, yes, these lucky fabrics that cover your incredible body."

Fuck, that's what Dean was hoping to hear. But imagining and experiencing, they're third cousins. And there's no caution between the estranged relatives, he keeps going, "Pie?"

"To be craved by you, to fill you completely, have you wanting nothing more than… pie."

A full tremble courses Dean's spine, he feels a bead of sweat racing back down, "Fuck, Cas. You're the best kind of fire."

The big beauty breathes deep, that chest just expanding and taking up all the air in the truck. And that's a-okay with Dean, he doesn't need oxygen, just needs Cas. Fuck, he really does. Oh, he knows Cas has better restraint than him, but Dean's got no brakes at this point, he rubs his cheek against Cas', hearing the thickened accent in his own voice because he's so fucking turned on right now, "Know what? We worked hard today. Mean that literally. But we finished for the day. I think we earned a treat."

There's a warning growl in that insane voice, "Dean."

Running a hand up Cas' thighs, Dean shudders at the strength he finds, what he knows is there. His lips ghost Cas' bronze cheek, whispering into his ear, "I don't wanna wait. I want you so fucking bad, Cas, I'm dying to feel you touch me."

The stud leans against him for the briefest moment, then tugs Dean to face him, "We can't yet, Dean."

"Sure we can. We're consenting adults," he's getting a bit light-headed now, unable to take a deep breath because his lungs keep passing out from the heat.

"Because we have to work in the morning." Dean's ready to protest, but Cas growls against his lips, "And once we start, we're not going anywhere for days."

"Cas… fuck!"

"Mmhmm, again and again," Cas brushes his lips just at the corner of Dean's lips, the freaking tease. "Besides, we're on a date."

Oh, the truck had stopped. That motion Dean's feeling is just his brain and heart spinning like dervishes instead of working. Dean blinks a few times, then pinches Cas' stomach, "Way to lead a guy on."

The bastard laughs and leans back, "No pouting, Winchester."

Dean glares daggers while Cas opens the door, though he kinda thrills when the Angel reaches in and helps him out. Not like he needed help, but that ain't the point. On the pavement, he gives a final pout, "Fine, but you're buying me pie."

That smirk turned evil for a second, Dean almost missed it and the stud is just beatific again, "Of course."

"Yeah, I'm gonna hold you to it."

"You're welcome to– nope!" Dean watches in amusement as Cas closes his eyes, lips moving silently for a few seconds. 

"What's up?"

"Mmm, just a mental exercise I practice."

"Huh, why?"

The big beauty stops and his face is a book, but there are a thousand chapters here and Dean doesn't know where to start. Cas is earnest and shit he's hot! "When I feel my control slipping, it helps me hold the fuck on."

Dean's conflicted. He wants to push, he wants Cas to give in and just take. But he also gets the struggle with keeping hands on the wheel. Dammit. He nods, "I got one of my own, too. I'm just kinda shitty at remembering to do it and not just, y'know, be impulsive."

Oh, this look Dean knows. Cas is surprised and kinda pleased and also curious. It's a damn adorable look, even when Dean's feeling awkward about exposing himself like this… even though Cas just did the same. "Can I ask…?" He can't finish the question.

But Cas knows, he sighs and says, "Yannis Ritsos' poem Romiosini . Sometimes others, but this one when I need internal strength."

"Cas, you're awesome in every way. But I have no idea who that is."

Cas just smiles and pulls Dean's hand up, kissing his knuckle so sweetly Dean might just melt into a puddle. "A Greek poet and activist. It's… poignant, though less impactful in English."

"Wait, you know Greek?"

"Yes."

"Cas, no one knows Greek!"

The big stud scoffs but has a small smile, "Adorable."

"That's me. Okay, you showed me yours. I sing in my head. Sometimes just humming. Almost always Metallica or Zepp."

What he doesn't expect is the smile that blooms across Cas' gorgeous face, there go the traitorous knees again. "Do you like to sing?"

Shit, why'd he say that? Big boy panties… "Yeah, it's kinda a hobby. Nothing special, just makes me feel good."

"I have no doubt that your voice is as beautiful as the rest of you, Dean."

Sure, Dean's blushing again, Cas just packs so much intensity into every word. "Thanks, Cas."

"Don't thank me, we talked about this."

"Yeah, ah, yeah. Okay, let's get this date moving."

Cas arches that deadly brow, "Eager?"

"Yup! Maybe if I wine n' dine you, I can get into those pants," he drops his flirtiest smile.

"I rescind adorable , now you're incorrigible ."

"Y'know, for a worldly multi-glut hottie, you mispronounce a lot of things." When those eyes squint at him, Dean just lifts his chin and gets walking, "It's pronounced incredible ."

"More like impossible."

"Ooh, feisty man!" He loops his arm through Cas and is kinda stupidly excited that he can. "Where are we goin'?"

Cas nods towards a building, "On a tour."

Dean doesn't groan because he's an adult in his 30s and… he nearly groaned. Nope, he can buck up, "So, are museums a thing for you?"

"I heard that tone, Dean."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe all the wind on the beach gave you tinnitus."

Cas ignores him and says something in French at the ticket thingie. Okay, museums are boring, but hearing Cas' rough voice like that? Crazy hot. The stud grabs his hand again, so melting is back on the table. They round the corner to a long hall… and Dean slams on the brakes.

His voice is low and husky with excitement, "Okay, this whole day has been a wet dream. This is the cherry on top. Holy shit, that's a Lotus!"

Whirling on Cas, he doesn't care about their tentative rules, he's freaking happy and is gonna show it. Grabbing Cas for a crushing hug, he laughs into his neck, "Cas, you're awesome."

"You like it?"

"Hell yeah! I love cars, especially classics like these! Cas, look!" Sure, Dean's a kid in a candy store. Well, a candy museum but nearly the same thing. This is like walking through heaven with an Angel at his side. All of ten minutes into their first date and he's grinning like a loon. Pausing, he spins back again and places a chaste kiss on Cas' cheek, whispering, "Thank you."

Cas rubs a thumb across Dean's chin and smiles, "My pleasure, Dean."

Swoon.

Chapter Text

Following Dean around the museum is one of Castiel's new favorite activities. It's like chasing a ray of sunshine, so bright and vibrant everytime that smile flashes. There's clearly a wealth of knowledge stored in that mesmerizing brain; Dean excitedly shares statistics and details on engines that Castiel doesn't follow, but the joy is unmistakable.

They course the building, Dean constantly reaching for him, whether holding hands or to grab his arm and race towards another automobile that caught his wonder. For each car that Dean raves over, he shares tidbits about his own life. Cars he had worked on with his friends or in the close-knit Florida Keys community; replacing a transmission after his friend Charlie found reverse instead of 4th gear in her Beetle; his own beloved Impala, It's a scavenger hunt, Dean finding vehicles and Castiel finding clues about Dean. His own grin rivals Dean's both in frequency and purity.

"Check this out, babe! Can you imagine riding around in that?!" 

The sobriquet is not lost on Castiel, no, he had to tamp back the intense urge to wrap around Dean and snuggle into his neck. After a stabilizing breath, he eyes the… "What the hell is that thing?"

"This is Isetta."

"Dean, I'm fairly certain that it snuck in here from a circus," it's a tiny, red… thing with a bench seat and a hood that is also the windshield.

Dean laughed and bumped his shoulder, "Snuck like Herbie?"

"Exactly, but it will never be a real car."

"Ouch, Cas, such a car snub!"

Castiel follows the playfulness, quipping, "Not even Mr. Bean would drive this."

"Ha! He probably tried and couldn't fit. Oh wow, this one… Cas, this is a Dos-à-Dos. Circa 1899."

"This is marvelous. Actual history."

"Yeah," Dean glances up from behind his lashes, his iconic smolder that had caught Castiel's breath years ago. "I haven't nerded out in a while, so you're kinda getting the full whammy."

"I'm honored."

Oh, that flush takes Dean's golden cheeks to a lovely rose gold. Castiel's nails are biting into his palms as he fights to not touch. It's too difficult, Dean is pure radiance.

"Dean, I saw a concession stand back there. What can I get you?"

"Whatever you're having."

"I'll be right back," and he repeats his mantra over and over as he finds the stand. The cashier cautions that they're about to close as she hands over the lemonade. When he follows the corridor back, he hears Dean's excited voice and it's just adorable. 

The beauty is bent over the open engine block of a sports car, pointing out something and grinning. Another man is beside him, crooning back with a heavy accent, "For you, I can make an exception."

"Nah, I'm good. Seeing this is awesome! Man, I can't imagine how long it took to clean this all out. One race and it'd be gunky, right? Wait, is this original?"

The other man shrugs narrow shoulders and leans back, clearly staring at Dean's ass, "Perhaps, I don't know. But I can find out, an–."

The voice over the public address announces the museum's closure in 5 minutes, repeated in French, Italian and English.

Dean takes a step back, "Thanks for popping the hood, this thing's a beauty. I'm gon–."

The man slinks close, Castiel must take a deep breath to not crush the cups of lemonade. "You are beauty. Stay, I can offer you a private tour."

Ah, Dean catches on, finally looking away from the car, "Ah, no, thanks. I'm on a date, can't wait to see what he's got next."

"Date?" The man sniffs and glances to the side, "I see no one. Your date has left. I –."

Dean snorts, "Buddy, there's no way Cas would ditch me. He's not like that. But you have fun trying that on someone else." He pulls his chin up and stalks a whole three steps before seeing Castiel. "Hiya Cas!"

"Hello, Dean," yeah, he said it to see Dean's reaction, letting it fuel Castiel's very soul.

A long golden arm reaches for a cup, then slides the other hand around Cas' elbow. It's so natural and right . Sipping as they head to the door, Dean hums, "Mmm, thanks, babe. So, where to?"

"Are you up for a walk?"

Dean's response is immediate and every word is echoed across his glowing face, "With you, anywhere."

Castiel's heart throbs in the very best way, which causes him to speak a bit too openly, "I believe you mean that."

"Yeah, I do."

Forget throbbing, the intensity in Castiel's chest could now rival the pulse of a star itself. Sure, they can't cross the ever more nebulous line yet, but honesty should always be freely offered. With a bolstering breath to calm the nerves coiled in his belly, he admits a truth, "I don't want to let you go."

For a moment he thought Dean was going to make a sexual quip, but he doesn't. No, the perfect man just glances at him and licks his lips once, "Me, neither."

Emboldened by Dean's admission mirroring his own, Castiel tugs Dean to a stop, staring into brilliant eyes, "First date, Dean. Not just…"

"Not just a date. Yeah, listen," the assuredness emanates from Dean, his freckles quasars of light, "I've had this insane crush on you forever. Hell, I had posters of you on my wall, total fanboy, all of it. When I got the offer, I was excited, right? But hearing it was with you, fuck, I swear my brain blue-screened. 'Cause these eyes, Cas, they're… I knew it was gonna be wild meeting you, and hard to not just drool all over your shoes," which got a laugh from them both. "But this, what I said this morning, yeah, I really liked you then. Now, it's like times a hundred."

Castiel's floating on the warmest updraft, each word lifting him higher. Rarely is he at a loss for words, but now he is tongue-tied, only managing, "Dean…"

"I don't care if it's too much or too fast, Cas. This is real, I know it is."

Seeing the fervent yet determined flecks of gold in emerald eyes, Castiel cups Dean's flushed cheek, "It is. I want everything, too. Dean, I only took this contract to meet you."

Dean blinks several times, "What?"

Shrugging as his own cheeks flush, Castiel's voice is lower still, "I've been out of the game for a while, unofficially retired. The moment I heard your name as co, it was quite truly like seeing a lighthouse during a tempest. I quite selfishly came here to meet you."

Seeing the grin bloom on Dean's face, Castiel kicks himself for being anxious over how the adorable creature would respond.

"Best thing I've ever heard, Angel," and those long arms wrap around him, the sandy hair tickling his cheek.

Allowing himself one kiss against Dean's head, Castiel is grinning from his toes up. "Now that we've both bared in a few hours than I have in my entire life, let's go."

As they walk, Castiel knows his feet are on the ground, he's no longer floating, yet he feels so much lighter. The weight on his shoulders has dissipated; the buildup from years of struggling in an unhappy relationship, of burying his own wants and needs, everything before these two days is just meeting away. He knows it's Dean, the man radiates hope and vitality, nothing negative could withstand the heat.

Making a final turn, they're no longer in the uber-bougie downtown section. The club caters of American ex-pats and tourists, offering casual entertainment. 

But Dean hesitates before walking in, clearing his throat, "I'm… clubs and I are a bad mix."

Castiel tilts his head, "How so?"

The man shuffles his feet, "This is embarrassing. Ah, I've been going out a lot the last coupla years. Haven't really made great decisions."

"Oh. I believe most of us have been down that path, Dean. This isn't a true nightclub, it's a comedy club."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Dammit, Cas, you just keep getting better n' better."

"That's me, a fine wine."

Dean shrugs his shoulders and holds the door this time "I was thinking like cheese."

"Brat."

"Yeah, but you like me," so cheeky.

And yet… "Yes, I do."

Chapter Text

There had been a moment of panic, just a straight-up oh shit feeling through his spine. He doesn't want Cas to see that part of him, the out-of-control side. It's one thing to hint at his behavior to the guy he's seriously like 97% in love with, but a whole other thing to risk him seeing that on their first date. 

And in another second, Cas made it all okay again.

They're in a dark lounge, most light is aimed at a small stage. Small semicircular tables ring the floor, a bar off to the side. As soon as they slide onto the bench, a hostess is there, but Cas mouths some pretty words, she sets down some menus and disappears.

No one onstage at the moment, so there's a low hum of conversation in the air. Dean vows to behave, even keeping a coupla inches between him n' Cas. His heart thuds when Cas just closes the gap, sitting thigh-to-thigh, one huge arm on the back of the bench. Yeah, Dean wants this forever.

Not even lifting the menu, he looks at his date through his lashes, "Order for me?"

"Are you sure? This side of the menu is in English."

"Yeah, I'm betting you're gonna know exactly what I like," okay that was more loaded than he intended, but Dean stands by it.

Cas stares him dead in the eye in that unflinching way he does. After a moment, "I believe you want a double cheeseburger with bacon, loaded, french fries and a shake."

Dean's jaw drops.

"But since we're in production, you can't have it." Cas grabs a menu, peruses, "So, baked barbeque chicken and… lemon zest fruit salad."

"Like a book, Cas." Dean grins now, whistling in appreciation, "You're a wizard, huh? Shit, you should put on a sexy robe, I'll call you Merlin and climb un–."

His mouth is suddenly covered by Cas', a fast and bitey kiss. The stud growls against his lips, "Don't you dare finish that, Winchester."

Sure, Dean's more than pleased, he's freaking living their dynamics. But he can play nice… kinda. "You're right, babe. Exactly what and, and sadly all o can have." Yup, point made.

"Well, I would choose the same," this guy is Perfect, with a capital P. "So, I'll have the chicken with you."

Cas motions the server back, places orders with citrus waters, not even attempting to order alcohol. And holy crap, Dean is grateful. He's wondering how to offer thanks without coming off… like he's portrayed. 

Thankfully, he doesn't have to. An older woman takes the small stage and launches into some filthy hilarity about tourists visiting the beaches and all the things she really doesn't want to see. It's amusing and all, sure, but what's like fifty times better is watching Cas. His Adonis face is just so real when he laughs and grins, still absolutely perfect, just more human. Dean realizes he doesn't have a favorite, he seriously loves every freaking expression.

Still watching Cas from his peripheral when the audience applauds the old lady. Dean sighs in sheer freaking contentment when Cas just takes his hand. It's so simple and profound at the same time, a small connection that has Dean preening in happiness. 

A platter of boneless BBQ wings and the bowl of fruit are slid into the table. Okay, Dean might have pouted for a second when Cas let his hand go, but it gets even better when the stud offers him a chunk of mango right from those awesome fingers. Might be from all the juice or maybe just because he constantly feels like baring his soul to his obsession, Dean murmurs, "Kinda love when you do that."

"Me, too," that growly voice sends more goosebumps than Canada has ever seen. "I admit, I've been thinking about those grapes all evening."

"Yeah," using his tongue to pull in the berry, chewing and watching Cas' eyes. "Makes me feel special."

Cas just stares into his soul again, "You are."

Gulp. Hell, he could get real used to that incredible adoration. And sure, he may have grinned when Cas carefully picks up a messy wing. The stud holds it out, waiting for Dean to take a bite, hell yeah! Dean nips half off. He groans as the sticky sauce hits his tongue, "That's awesome!"

Cas smiles as he pops the other half in his own mouth, "Not bad."

"Cas, chili-lime is my favorite! How're you doing this?"

There's that bright, gummy grin that rolls marshmallows through Dean's chest. The Angel shrugs, "Intuition, I suppose. I like making you smile, Dean."

"Well, you're about to fill up the punch card, so you get a free cookie."

"Adorable."

"Damn right, hot stuff."

The comedian onstage is kinda flopping. No, in fairness, Dean just isn't paying attention because Cas is feeding him. Nothing can compare. When Dean's messy with a bite, just being playful, sauce drops at the corner of his lips. Some star heard Dean's wish 'cause Cas doves right in and licks it up, dragging his tongue so slowly that Dean's eyes roll back. When he can see again, Cas's eyes are huge and flashing in the dark room. Oh shit, he wants that again, so he pushes, and on the next bite of fruit, lets the kiwi leak. Cas' eyes trace the path of the juice.

Cas' throat bobs as he swallows, but his jaw is tight and his left eye hand to God twitches, "Dean… you're the most tempting creature this world will ever see."

Those words flip Dean's heart right over, he heard a squeal in his chest at the thrill. Wiping his chin with the napkin, he watches Cas and picks up a melon cube. Pulling on those brave panties again, he offers Cas a bite. Oh, Cas parts his thick lips and nibbles, but his reaction has Dean gasping… the stud's eyes close and he lets out the filthiest groan Dean has ever heard. And just like that, Dean knows one of his new goals is gonna be hearing that sound every freaking day of their lives.

When those ocean eyes open again, they're soft and unfocused, fucking gorgeous. Dean needs more. Finding the single strawberry, he moves fast; placing it between his teeth, he twists and grabs Cas' hair, kissing the fruit right into his mouth. Lightning courses the air as they connect, thunder booms or maybe that's just the deep groans rising from Cas' insane chest. Whatever it is, this is like throwing himself into a hurricane, swept into a tempest of bliss. Dean feels Cas grab his shoulder, pressing them closer still, both lost in the whirling winds. 

At some point in the future they separate, but there's no telling how long it was. Doesn't matter. Can't contain a perfect moment, and a moment can be a split-second or an hour, they're loaded. Finally releasing his death grip on Cas' hair, Dean's hand slides to his neck and he just holds on. Time comes back into play, though, as he gasps like he just swam across Cudjoe Bay. 

Without speaking, 'cause Dean's again kinda dead certain they don't need words, they move back to sitting properly. Well, kinda. Dean scoots closer again, leaning against Cas' chest, and the stud wraps an arm around him. They watch the next ringleader try to lure people in with jokes about yachts, but Dean tunes it out and listens to the steady thudding in Cas' chest. The cadence of his heartbeat is alluring, Dean could swear the Morse code is there and he hears his name in each beat. 

Something soft rubs his cheek, and it's a helluva lot better than those pesky sand flies. Yeah, Dean likes this one, he snuggles deeper into his cocoon. 

"Dean."

Oh. His eyes pop open, there's no mistaking that voice. Swiping at his chin in case he drooled, Dean sat up with a sheepish smile, "Guess I nodded off. Sorry."

"Don't be, sweetheart," Cas' eyes are all soft and his own smile just sweet. "I found cuddling with you to be incredibly soothing."

Okay, there goes Dean's heart again, apparently the thing knows acrobatics 'cause it just did a backflip. And he goes with blatant honesty again, "Best nap ever, Cas."

Cas leans over and silently kisses his cheek. Then he motions for the check.

Dean stretches and is kinda surprised that his neck and shoulders aren't sore, even with the crazy angle he had slumped into. Nope, that can be chalked right up to Cas, the guy is novacaine. That awesome thought lingers as they step outside and into the darkening night. Dean takes a deep breath, catching just a hint of salt in the air, a scent he always finds comforting. 

While they wait for the Uber, or SIXT according to the app on Cas' phone, but it's all Uber to Dean, they wander around a small park. Dean flicks at a shrub, commenting, "I don't recognize a single plant, except maybe the grass. Not even, this is way softer than at home."

"Do you live close to the beach?"

"Yeah! After my mom died, me n' Sammy spent half the time with Dad on our houseboat, roaming the Gulf. It was how the old man dealt with depression, just needed a full tank and open waters. It was cool, but wasn't really home. The rest of the time, we were at Uncle Bobby's in Big Pine. That was home, this ridiculous bungalow on the beach, all these boat engine parts and scuba gear everywhere. It was a mess and so awesome. Once him n Aunt Ellen got hitched, we cleaned the place up. Now it's 'cluttered not hoard-ish.'"

Cas laughs and it's just a gorgeous sound.

Dean keeps going, kinda needing Cas to know his history, "Jo's my cousin now, she's the daughter Bobby never knew he wanted. She's gonna take over the business when Bobby finally stops micromanaging everything. Ellen's a nurse, has this zippy little speedboat, just races up n' down the Keys for everything. I'm talking, food poisoning from tourists eating their catch without knowing what it was, to gator bites to birthing babies."

"She sounds formidable."

"Exactly! Yeah, she's awesome. So, when she n' Jo moved in, Sammy was heading to college in Miami. Being the awesome brother that I am, we got an apartment together. I hated being cooped up, was gonna go stark raving mad. But I got a job at the Seaquarium, which was kinda cool."

"What did you do there?"

Pulling up the memories, Dean's feeling nostalgic, "Maintenance at first, 'cause I can fix anything. Then Diver Ops, first for repairs, then eventually expeditions. I'd set up open-sea pens for rehabbed animals, like an acclimation zone until they were ready for release. I really like it, Cas, felt like I was… I dunno."

"You were offering creatures a safe passage into their natural habitat."

"Yeah! Saving things. Right when Sammy was graduating, I got offered a spot on a research vessel. Then we got the call that our dad died, ah, died. Had a heart attack. It's not like I saw him all the time, but it hit hard. I just wanted to go home."

Thankfully Cas doesn't do the whole you poor thing spiel that makes Dean's skin crawl. No, this guy is still perfect, he just squeezed Dean's hand and said, "That must have been difficult."

Squeezing back, Dean nods, "That's kinda when I started my… slide into shitty decision making. But Sammy found us a place on the island, so I quit my job and joined Bobby n' Jo full time. Sam was doing work for some place in Orlando, working remote, it worked for a bit… Cas, I…" he stares at the grass as thoughts race.

A large, warm hand cups his chin, tilting him up to meet those solemn azure gems, "You can say anything, Dean. I won't judge you."

"Thank you," and he means it. "I love music. Love to sing, decent on a guitar. Formed a band with some of my friends. Kevin, Garth, Benny, Ash n' me. It was awesome. Just that solidarity and creativity, it helped a bit. Couldn't really sing while drunk or stoned, well, I tried at first but Benny would just kick me outta his garage and say come back sober or not at all. For a solid year, I behaved. Then things changed. Not bad, I mean, I'm happy for everyone, just held a self-pity party for myself."

"Did the dynamics change?"

"Yeah," Dean sighs and tugs at some flowery stems, "Kevin got accepted to a graduate program in Dallas. Ash got an internship with JPL, which is insane, 'cause appearances being deceiving and all that. Benny met Raph and they decided to buy a sailboat and go on a world tour. Garth and Bess had been together since high school, but they were having a baby, so his responsibilities changed. Shit, ended up being twins! Cute little monsters."

"It sounds like your friends had wonderful changes in their personal lives.*

"Absolutely! Deserved, too."

"What did you do next?"

Glancing up and still seeing the solid support, Dean feels a new kind of brave. "I went back to Miami every chance I got, hit up bars and clubs. Guess I found the attention I craved. Sometimes I'd charm my way into solo openings for local bands, anything to be on stage. Which brought more drinks and a whole lotta lecherous folks. I'd get shit faced, had Sam following me around for months to keep me outta serious trouble. There's a place called Cowboyz down–."

"The country-rock venue?"

"Yeah, you know it?"

Cas' eyes are getting that hungry look again, Dean feels a bead of sweat before the stud speaks, "That mechanical bull is a filthy and beautiful legend."

Working down the puddle of drool, Dean smirks, "Guess who's the unbeaten champ?"

Oh, he sees those huge eyes glance down at his bow legs, sees Cas' lick his lips, "I need proof."

"Fuck, Cas," Dean slides against the stud, running a hand around Cas' wicked hip, "Can't wait to show you."

He feels Cas' chest expand and press against his, but the Angel is so freaking resilient, he just nuzzles Dean's cheek for an awesome second. Dragging Dean's hand between them, kissing his thumb, "I apologize, Dean. The image took over. Please, keep going."

Biting back a flirty retort, Dean sighs, "Picked up some decent cash as the entertainment. It was like stripping without actually, y'know, stripping. That's where a headhunter found me. Ruby. She was ruthless, but waved around some awesome incentives. Booked me for some small ads. I could not believe the response, seriously! This is super selfish but it's honest, I felt like I had to fight for attention all my life, and then bam! I'm getting a contract offers left n' right."

Cas frowns a bit, saying, "Hunters rarely have a good reputation."

"Yeah, you nailed that. Sam was nuts about Ruby for a hot minute. He went from his white-collar job with an ad agency to my self-appointed manager real quick. I knew she was poison, but I was getting what I wanted, so I just looked the other way. Out of the blue, Sam broke it off and told me to block her. Sure, okay, I trust my brother, right. He took over everything, booking me gigs. It took months before I got the truth outta him. The bitch was trying to push me into porn, thinking she could honeypot Sam into agreeing and then convincing me."

Oh, he sees Cas looks pissed, so he pushes on, "Now, pretty sure I'd love seeing you n' me on a private screen, but no way in hell I woulda done that."

Cas nods, "I wasn't suggesting anything. It's just… I've heard similar experiences and it's appalling.". His eyes grow, "I'm not saying anything against adult film stars, I just despise the manipulation."

Grinning at his adorable Angel, Dean catches sight of their ride and nods in the direction. Knowing they only have a minute, he wraps up, "I get it. So, rapid-fire, got bigger and better offers. Started cleaning myself up, mentally and physically. This past year was better than ever, I fell off the wagon a few weeks ago, no one's fault but my own. It might happen again, but fuck if I'm not gonna try harder."

"I have faith in you, Dean." 

Yeah, his heart has new tricks. Where the hell did the damn thing find trapeze? Dean has no clue, but that crazy thing is soaring. 

Oh, right, he remembers how they started down this path. "Long story, but I have a wickedly awesome house now. Cudjoe Key, my own private beachfront, a dock, palms, an incredible view, all the things I've wanted."

"That sounds wonderful, sweetheart," Cas opens the car door.

Suddenly feeling insecure after baring so much, he elbows Cas and pulls up a playful smile… at least he tries. "Promise you're gonna come visit?"

"Yes." The response is instant and so solid, Dean could rap his knuckle on the single word and know it's denser than stone.

Resting his head on Cas' equally strong shoulder, Dean whispers low and gruff, "Good."

Chapter Text

Breathing in the sweet scent of Dean's hair, Castiel revels in the closeness as they head back to the hotel. The vulnerability this lovely man shared was simply awe-inspiring, so much strength and resolve. Even as he immerses himself in the bliss that is loving Dean, he knows he needs to bare himself, too. Ah, that's something Castiel finds incredibly difficult.

"You can ask." 

Dean tilts his head, "What happened?"

Castiel steels himself and forces a breath, "I wanted, no, I needed to be more in the relationship. Five years together and I thought there was more between us, but… I believed the lie I told myself and refused to acknowledge the reality."

He feels Dean nod, long fingers tracing his, "But it was real for you."

"Yes. On some level, part of me knew, I just wanted more and better. When anyone would allude to or, with my brothers, directly state that Inias only wanted me on his arm and never on my finger, I rather emphatically denied it."

"I read the interview."

Squeezing his eyes in some stomach churning mix of shame, sadness and a fair dose of anger, Castiel can see the Vogue article in his mind.

"Hey, Cas, look at me."

Meeting those warm eyes, Castiel feels the pain fade away.

"What he said and did, it ain't right and I know it's not you."

"Thank you, Dean. It wasn't all bad. I truly loved him for a long time.I did become needy, just for the one thing he wouldn't, didn't want to give me. And I actually did throw him out in the middle of the night."

"Ha! Good. Did you really burn his clothes on the lawn?"

Scoffing, Castiel rolls his eyes, "No, I didn't care enough to be that dramatic." He pauses, then admits, "My cousin did that."

"Hell yeah! So, that why you retired?"

Resting his head against Dean's, there's substantial weight dissipating from his soul with each admission, "Mostly. These circles are gossip-ridden at any moment, but I despised being at the center of it. The way peers would look at me, the probing questions, the sympathy, I hated it all so much. I needed to be away from all of it, so I sold the house and took a sabbatical."

"Well, I'm not gonna say sorry or poor guy or something, 'cause I'm freaking happy that you freed yourself."

A smile rises, "You're so sweet, Dean."

"Yup, that's me. But I'm also selfish, 'cause now I've got you."

"Yes, you do," those words have replaced the angst in Castiel's with utter warmth and brilliance.

"Good," Dean nudges Castiel out of the car, never releasing his hand. "So, where've you been all this time?"

Slowly walking to the elevator, wanting to drag out their time together as much as possible, "Nashville. With my brother Gabriel."

"Really? I love Nashville! The history, the honkey tonks, it's awesome."

"Mmhmm, it's nice. But it's not home.*

Dean nods as they enter the elevator, "I get that. Cool thing is that now you can find a new home, open horizons."

Oh, the words are on the tip of Castiel's tongue, but he swallows them down. It's too much, he won't risk scaring away this incredible man. Instead he nods, "Yeah. Are you tired, Dean?"

"That a proposition, stud?"

"Behave," but he loves it. "Watch a movie with me."

"Hell yeah! Damn, I miss theater popcorn."

Castiel groans in sympathy, "I can picture the very bottom layer."

"Fuck, that was the best. All warm n' gooey n' salty."

They both sigh as Castiel cards his door and holds it open. A moment later, he's pushed against the wall, a gasp nearly escaping but Dean steals it with his own mouth. The kiss is incendiary, the press of Dean's body against his just fuels the flames yet again. 

But Dean pulls back and licks across Castiel's lips, drawing a deep groan. The beautiful man's voice is loaded, "Bet I could give you something even tastier."

The feeble control is ever thinner, threadbare now, riddled with holes and Castiel's desire slips through. Nipping at Dean's lips, his hands find Dean's hips, "I'll devour you."

"Gimme a taste, Cas."

There's only so much a man can take, and Castiel has reached his limit. Dragging Dean closer, he plunders the sweet mouth he craves. Seeking out every flavor, suckling on Dean's tongue, he could live connected like this. His tongue follows the lines of Dean's perfect cheekbones, along his jaw, up to his ear. Working down the golden flesh, he moans against the warmth below his lips.

"Fuck, Cas! More!" 

The plea goes straight to Castiel's cock, already demanding exactly that: more. Dragging his teeth across that sensitive spot again, he thrills hearing Dean's moan, feeling the strong body arch against him. Dean throws his neck back, fingers knotting in Castiel's hair as he pins them together. Castiel fucking loves it, he licks and sucks and bites, lost in the sheer high of bringing the most delectable sounds from the man he loves. He bites again.

Dean moans and writhes, gasping out nonsensical syllables. Debased and perfect and… Castiel freezes. Pulling back, he stares at Dean's neck and fights back the need to do more, battles it down.

"Dean, I'm so sorry!"

Dazed emeralds blink at him, Dean still wrapped around him, "What?"

"I… I lost control. There's a mark," he can't drag his eyes away. 

Dean rubs his neck, quickly finding the darkening bruise. For all that's holy in this world, this creature moans as he presses against it and Castiel is fighting against himself again. Even more when Dean whispers, "I love it, Cas."

Shaking his head to clear the blinding lust, Castiel pushes back, "Ice should help, let m–."

"Cas, relax," Dean grabs Castiel's shoulders and tugs him to the mirror.

"I'm sorry."

Fucking hell, the golden man is smirking as he circles the bloom, "Nuh uh, that's hot." Dean pulls Castiel's hand up, pressing a finger against his neck, his breath hitching. "Yeah, got your mark."

It takes every scrap of resilience to not press again, to not add a full bouquet across Dean's body. And it gets harder when Dean adds, "It's like a sign saying, Cas was here."

" Mine ." That growled word slips through one of the many tears in his control.

"Fuck, yeah, Angel, yours."

Before he loses it again, Castiel tows Dean into the main room. Grabbing mineral water from the kitchenette, he all but collapsed on the sofa.

Dean kicks off his sandals and settles right next to him, the ever-present warmth is so very tempting. "What're we watching?"

Pulling up Netflix, he hands the remotes over, "You choose."

"You're awesome, Cas!" He selects A Million Ways to Die in the West.

Half an hour into the movie, both men are red-faced from laughing. Sure, Castiel is constantly distracted seeing and feeling Dean's body tremble as he snickers, but the sight deserves worship.

Dean pauses the film, "Got any snacks?"

"Sure do," Castiel raids the cabinets while the beauty uses the bathroom. He nearly sets out the leftovers from the comedy club, but when his cock kicked at the memory, he quickly shoves the bag into the fridge. Nope, he can be strong. Dark chocolate melts, Cheez-Its and a bag of his guilty pleasure make the cut.

And Dean's approval, apparently. "Oh, you speak my language."

Pleased to his core, Castiel grins as Dean grabs the bag of Skittles, "They're my favorite, I simply cannot resist them."

"Same, babe," he shakes out a handful and sorts them. Green eyes flicker up, "Don't judge me."

"Never. Favorite flavor or pairings?"

"Mmnmm, one of each. Gotta taste the rainbow," a devastating wink shakes Castiel's soul the beauty pops five candies into his mouth.

Swallowing the rising lust, Castiel huffs but reaches for the bag, "I do the same."

They're quiet for a moment, each relishing the sugary treats.

Dean watches him intently, which Castiel loves, adoring any and all attention from him. "I remember the, uh, outfit you wore to the Pride parade a few years back."

"Which one?"

"Rainbow Angel."

"Mmm, that was one of my favorites ever." Catching Dean's slight blush, he pushes, "Tell me."

"Okay, just… I'm not a stalker, just a grown man appreciating another grown man."

"Dean."

"Yeah, alright." Dean pulls out his phone and unlocks it, hesitates, then turns it around.

The home screen is… Castiel. Hair spiked and threaded with glitter gel, rainbows painted in coils down his arms, bright purple shorts – well, barely – and a huge set of rainbow wings. Those were heavy and awkward to wear, the arches towering and feathers dragging across the street. But so worth it.

Grinning now, Castiel beams, "You're wonderful."

Shrugging broad shoulders, Dean has a small smile, "Nah, just a guy with a massive crush."

"Mmm, no, much more than that," he places a purely chaste kiss on Dean's cheek.

But he hears the catch im Dean's voice, "Yeah."

Oh, they share a long look, another one of those moments where Castiel knows their souls are speaking. And it's truly perfect. 

Dean suddenly gasps and coughs, Castiel reaching for him, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, ah," another cough and a bashful smile, "forgot to breathe."

A laugh bursts out as Castiel tugs the incredible creature close, chuckling against his neck.

They play the movie again, but Dean slides down on the sofa and stretches out. When Dean's head settles on Castiel's lap, the Angel vows to remain seated here, like this, forever so long as Dean does, too. It's soul-settling. Allowing himself the pleasure, he runs a hand through Dean's hair, carding, gently petting. Dean's sigh is beautiful.

Time slows and melts, meaningless beyond them.

At some point, Dean fell asleep, his long body lax. Stretching his arm, Castiel manages to catch the throw blanket on a chair with a fingertip. A quick shake and he settles it over Dean.

Watching Dean sleep, Castiel is utterly content. No, he's happy. What a remarkable feeling. Oh, he knows without a single doubt that this is everything, Dean is everything. Sinking into the sweetness, Castiel falls asleep with a smile on his lips.

Chapter Text

Coasting out of an awesome dream, Dean blinks into the dark room for a minute. Right, he's in his hotel room, not in a wicked car, leaving everyone else in the dust as he takes the Grand Prix trophy. Dammit.

Twisting to stretch, there's nothing under him, he lurches back. Shit! He's on a couch. More accurately, he was on Cas' lap on the couch. Biting back a groan, kicking himself for wasting time sleeping when he could have been… something, anything with Cas. Moving carefully, he sits up and his eyes adjust, the room is only lit by Netflix's home screen. 

Fuck, Cas is gorgeous. Obviously, but asleep, relaxed, he's not the stone statue of beauty, he's soft and human and Dean wants to lick him like an ice cream cone.

Chiding himself to behave, he loses a gallon in the bathroom and helps himself to the mouthwash on the counter. What should he do? A sensible, responsible man would go back to his own room. Yeah. But Dean isn't that guy. Nope. 

Pulling back the covers and laying the pillows flat, he's flushing in the dark. Setting his alarms, finding Cas' phone and plugging in with the charger, he's mentally prepping for the next bit. 

Tossing his shirt over a chair, he rubs Cas' cheek and whispers, "Hey, big guy."

Nothing.

He tugs Cas' hand, nada.

Whispering to himself, "Good thing I ate my Wheaties." He slides under Cas' arms, lifting with his legs, and nearly topples them over. Fuck, this stud is solid. Inch walking them to the bed, he's working up a sweat getting Cas' head up to the pillows. But freaking worth it, 'cause Dean gets to slide in next to him and tuck them both in.

Maybe he watches Cas' chest rise and fall for a long time, he can't help it. Dean's imagining being able to do this each and every night. The thought stays with him as his eyes close.

The next time Dean wakes up, he knows exactly where he is and who's here with him. Shit, his dream came to an abrupt end when he felt like he was melting. Good reason, 'cause the hottest eyes are locked on him.

Cas is half-sitting, body so tense that every muscle is coiled and there are more shadows dancing those abs than there are stars in the sky. But his eyes are the best part, just wide and bright and yeah, Dean squirmed.

"Dean."

Cool, there's another squirm, 'cause why have any control of his own body? All he can manage is,"Hey."

Those sapphires travel down and Dean thrives with the attention. But they trace back up and pause, an absolutely filthy groan pouring from Cas and Dean has goosebumps head-to-toe.

The stud leaps, this insane body suddenly covering his, weight pinning him in place, the press of a hard cock against his, and hot lips on his neck. Cas nuzzles at him, licks up and downs and circles… oh. Yup, sure enough Cas' graveled voice has Dean trembling, "You still have my mark."

All Dean can do is nod and silently wish that Cas keeps going.

Sometimes even Winchesters get lucky.

Cas wraps a hand behind his neck, arching him up, licking into his mouth and this is heaven. Dean's hands scramble to grab and pull and hold, body already aching for his touch. He's moaning with elation and anticipation, shuddering when Cas licks his ear and bites at the shell. 

"I dreamt about you," the stud seriously has the hottest freaking voice.

"What… oh, fuck, your mouth is insane… what was I doing?"

"Screaming," a sharp bite at his neck and Dean's eyes roll back, "begging."

"Please, Cas, touch me!"

Those incredible fingers rub down his side, the lightest touch but Dean's trembling. He needs more, needs Cas. Curling a calf around Cas' thigh, Dean thrusts his hips up, desperate for friction. 

This god growls as he works down Dean's chest, the sound vibrating and sending Dean flying towards that blinding bliss. A wet tongue flicks across his nipple, teeth dragging and gone too soon. Maybe Dean forgot to breathe again, his brain is stupefied by Cas' mouth and hand sliding across his stomach, getting lower and lower. Dean's heart is thudding, pounding, knocking – oh, that's not him.

There's another loud knock on the door. Cas freezes and groans, Dean could cry. The angel lifts his head and those sapphires have actual fire in them. 

Bam bam bam!

"Cassie, up n' at 'em!"

Cas rolls off the bed and stalks to the door, not opening it but calling back, "What, Gabriel?"

"Schedule change, on the bus in 30."

"Fine, I'll be ready."

Dean rolls over and screams into the pillow, incredibly frustrated, they were sooooo close!

"Dean."

Releasing one more strangled shout against cotton and down, Dean takes a deep breath and shoves up, "It ain't fair."

"No," Cas pulls Dean to his feet, "but waking up with you is incomparable."

Swoon . "Kinda thought the same thing."

Cas brushes a sweet kiss that lingers but not long enough, "Walk down with me."

"Wouldn't dream of going alone again," and he means it.

"Good," there's a small smile and definitely a bit of a possessive tone. And Dean freaking loves it.

Having to take manual control of his own body, Dean somehow forces himself to grab his shirt and phone. Actually opening the door and stepping out was damn hard, easily burning more calories than an hour of swimming. And coming face-to-face with Sammy is more cramping than post-swimming for an hour.

"Dude, where have you been?" The giant ances at the shirt in Dean's hand and then at the door. Before Dean can say anything, Sammy grabbed his arm and is dragging him down the hallway, hissing, "What are you doing?"

Shaking off the grabby hand, Dean grumbles, "None of your business."

"Oh, but it is. Dean, what the hell!"

Dean tries to ignore him, just carding his door and trying to slam it behind him. But as the morning has now proven, Dean's not that lucky.

"Seriously, you can't sleep with your co-star!"

"Not for lack of trying," okay, Dean's snippy, he's frustrated. "Besides, it's not like that ."

"Right, you're just doing the walk of shame for no reason," Sam plants himself in the way. "Dude, you have a hickey!"

"It's different. Cas is different."

"Jeez, you totally fangirled, didn't you?"

"No! Well, yeah, but whatever. Me n' Cas are kinda dating now."

"Since when? We've been here all of two days!"

"Yeah, well, we are and it's awesome."

"Just… be careful, okay?"

"I am, we are. He's so… sweet."

Sammy shakes his head, "Whatever. Try and act like a professional for like five minutes."

"Well, I'm gonna be a late professional if you don't get outta here."

Well, that worked, the guy glared daggers and dipped out.

Racing through his routine, Dean acknowledges the moment his frustration flipped to anticipation. 6:19 AM. Yup, now he's getting freaking excited 'cause he's about to see Cas again. 'Cause it's been so long. Nope, he kinda loves his obsession.

Patterned pastel pink kinda short-shorts, mint green aloha shirt and boat shoes. He knows how these colors make his tan pop like gold. Maybe he messed with his hair a bit, can't blame a man for wanting to look good. Yup.

And he only paces the hallways for maybe two minutes before the stud's door opens. Fuck, Cas is so hot! A simple linen shirt shows off those really distracting pecs. Tight black shorts have the incredible honor of wrapping around the thickest thighs… Dean laughs, "Damn, I get it. Jealousy of inanimate objects."

"Says the vision of beauty. Dean are those… peaches?"

Raising a knee, Dean glances at his shorts, "Yup! Charlie made 'em, 'cause my ass is a peach."

Cas blurts out, "Angel food cake."

Oh, his brain lost balance and fell, the bastard landed right on the gawk button.

"When I saw you at the meet and greet, I thought your ass was pure cake."

"And you're… the Angel."

"Mmhmm," Cas' voice is so low that tsunami sirens are going off, "and I'm hungry ."

"Fuck."

"Soon." The stud drops that bomb and takes Dean's hand, leading to the elevator.

Dean's blinded dy searing lust, the image of Cas…. Hearing his name, he struggles to remember how to see. Oh. Somehow they're at the marina, Dean had blanked everything out everything but Cas. 

Immediately besieged by the crew and rushed into a trailer, Dean pouts the entire time. His hair gets sprayed, neck coated in concealer, his skin oiled, satin pajama shorts pulled on. Then guided to an actual freaking yacht, like one of those things bigger than a whole house. He's posed on a chair at a dining table at the end of the yacht, one knee up, elbow resting on it, head turned and watching the rising sun. They're rolling, Dean knows the setup but he also knows the moment Cas appears at the doorway behind him. 

Breath hitching, heart taking off at a sprint, Dean feels every muscle shuddering in anticipation. He barely catches an escaping moan when long fingers brush his cheek. Even if it wasn't his role, Dean would have looked up at this Adonis with the same expression. Sheer freaking awe.

Cas sits beside him, bare chest so wide and tempting. Dean's hand nearly shakes as he lifts the lid from the platter on the table, the croissants still warm. But the burn Dean feels is from Cas' himself, the stud tearing off a piece of the flaky pastry and slipping it between Dean's lips. Even as the crust melts on his tongue, every inch of his body melts under Cas's eyes. 

A bite of his own, then Cas holds the croissant up. Dean takes a bite, letting the cream filling sit on his lip. He could have licked it up, this is improv, but there was no need. Cas just slowly leans in, a few incredibly distant inches away, close enough for Dean to gasp. But Cas doesn't kiss him, no, he rubs a thumb across Dean's lips, catching the filling and wiping it across his own tongue. 

"Scene!" 

The shout from the tethered dinghy invades what is absolutely one of the most erotic things Dean has ever experienced.

The voice does it again, "Rolled through in a single take, I'm impressed, boys. It's almost like you're naturals."

Cas whispers, "it's wrong, but I really hope Meg trips and falls in the water."

Dean grins back, "A rogue wave would be a-okay with me."

An hour later, they're on the bow, Dean stretched out on his stomach, eyes closed. Cas is right behind him, leaning on one elbow as they sunbathe. One finger runs down his back, tracing his skin from neck to the arch, ending at the hem of his swimsuit.

Next scene, Dean's on his back, one knee bent, full eye contact as Cas blocks out the sun. He turns that Adonis body away and swan dives into the sea. That memory is going to pay rent, 'cause it moved into Dean's memory for good 

A quick dunk and Dean's climbing onto a rocky outcropping. Ankles crossed, arms propped behind him, he watches as Cas heaves himself out of the sea. Every droplet of water catching the sunlight, he's glowing . And oceans can boil, 'cause those eyes are on fire as they course Dean's body. Cas crawls over him, wet body braced over him, hair dripping, so close!  Dean's been dying to get to this part, he gets to pull Cas down, their chests flush, the Angel nestled between Dean's thigh. Raising his leg traps Cas and earns Dean a huge hand sliding up his thigh. It's every bit as incredible as he had imagined, and fucking hell it's taking a lot of mental fortitude to keep his cock from chubbing up. But it sure did kick, and Dean is dead certain Cas' did, too.

When the scene is called, Cas hovers, "You are magnificent."

Honesty slips right out, "A man could get real used to your compliments."

"You will," the Angel drives Dean that much further into love and damn it's nice here.

Filler solo shots are taken all over the yacht, which should theoretically have been easier to handle. But Dean struggles to follow his marks, there's a constant barrage of thoughts taking over. He wants to see Cas, to know what he's looking at, how he's posed, just… he wants Cas.

Chapter Text

Castiel is growing frustrated. Yes, he's a professional and knows how to do his damn job, but… he despises being away from Dean. He needs a direct line of sight, needs to see the vision of vitality, to feel those glorious eyes on him. Which has left the Angel moody, to say the least. 

Apologizing to the cosmetologist for snapping at her, he excuses himself for a cool-down. Or more accurately, to find Dean. Mumbling out yet another apology as he nearly plows into an assistant, he's on warpath as he scours every level, room and balcony of this monstrosity. There!

Dean's on the top deck, arms braced on the glass railing as he gazes at the open sea behind them. Every muscle is defined, every freckle gleaming in the setting sunlight. Simply stunning.

Words fail him, Castiel just moves. A hand to Dean's hip, curling around and barely restraining pulling them against himself, moving to hug Dean's waist. Dean doesn't say anything as he leans back, resting oh so naturally against Castiel's chest. Golden arms cross over Castiel's bronze forearm. They stay like that, embraced in their own comfortable silence, just the low sounds of the engine and the hypnotic lapping of the waves as the yacht cuts a path back to the mainland. 

The scent of the sea wafts around them, mingling with the ambrosia that is Dean, it's a heady mix. Knowing they should not be overly intimate, not yet, Castiel does indulge in rubbing his cheek against Dean's. With a deep sigh, Castiel gives himself over to the moment, the motion and scent and pure warmth is hypnotic. 

A husky yet velvety-soft whisper brings him out of the trance, Dean's pointing to the south, "Babe, look!"

A handful of dark shapes emerge from the sea, bobbing up and sinking below again. 

"Pilot whales," Dean sounds wistful. "Haven't seen them in the wild in a long time."

"They're beautiful." Holding Dean close, they watch as more whales emerge for air, dozens of dark bodies rippling the sea in the wake. A memory flits around Castiel's mind, he's helpless in containing it, that ever present urge to share everything with Dean is so strong. "Ever since that old movie, I've imagined swimming with a whale or dolphin, holding its fin and racing through the water."

Dean chuckles and tilts back to eye him, "You're freaking adorable, Cas. Yeah, that series brought some bad ideas to a lot of people. These animals are intelligent and they like to play. Folks try to grab on, sure, Ol' Blubber will take you for a ride… straight down."

"Mmm, it's dangerous, I don't doubt it. But how thrilling would that be? Just gripping tight, knowing this is a once in a lifetime ride, diving deep and maybe, just maybe, there will be a bond between you. And that powerful creature will breach the sea, leaping, raising you from the depths…" his own sigh melts into the air.

Turning under his hands, Dean's eyes are bright and soulful, "That's what I feel everytime you hold my hand."

Time stands still, it has no hold on this eternal moment. Something pulses between them, that profound connection that is invisible but palpable, perfect. Castiel knows it's love of the truest form, deep and everlasting, endless. Cupping Dean's cheek, rubbing a thumb at the corner of the most tempting lips, Castiel feels their souls circling one another, so close to becoming one–.

"Keep this up, boys, and we're going to have more free time to explore the outrageous town and find those sweet little locals to just eat up ," of course the evil woman interrupts them. 

Dean rolls his pretty eyes and they turn. Meg is leaning against the opposite railing, a photographer beside her. 

Castiel scowls at the intrusion, "Were you shooting?"

She smirks, "Couldn't really let such an intimate scene slip by without immortalizing it on film."

"This is not a scene ," he snaps at her.

"Ooh, it sure is, got me all hot n' bothered so imagine what the gen pop will feel? Besides, you've inspired a change of plans that just might get you both lucky."

Castiel's laring as the director saunters away, grabbing the camera and scrolling through the shots. Glancing back at the sea, his scowl takes on a new level, growling now, "Great, she scared away the whales."

"Oh, babe," the beauty laughs and it's so very soothing, "those whales feed on squid. Ain't gonna be afraid of a tiny, bitey ape."

"Dean, she's a demon, I can see her horns."

"Dammit, you're so freaking adorable when you get grouchy."

Ah, that touched Castiel's heart and a smile forms, "I despise being interrupted. Time with you is…"

"It's the best, Cas."

"Yes," Castiel laces their fingers together, raising them to kiss along Dean's knuckles.

"Fuck, Cas, you're killing me."

"Mmm, no," giving a slow lick across his thumb, "you're very much alive."

The beauty gasps and shakes his head, "Not for long! I keep forgetting to breathe."

Cracking with laughter, Castiel feels like he has wings, so elated being with this incredible man. But he hears footsteps approaching and cannot resist teasing Dean before they're again interrupted, "Consider it practice."

"For what?"

"How long you can hold your breath."

Ah, there! Dean's eyes darken, eyelashes fluttering and that lovely rose gold tinting his cheeks. Beautiful.

One of the assistants is there, directing them to separate cabins to shower off the oils and salt. 

The moment before parting, Castiel and Dean share a look. There's a colloquialism that a single look could speak volumes. This one, all of these with Dean, each contains more words than what fill the Library of Congress. He feels the words caress his body and soul even as the water sprays over his flesh, sinking in deeper than the soap suds ever could. It's not possible, has never been before, but Castiel could solemnly swear that he knows when Dean is looking at him, he can feel when the paragon is thinking of him.

And he feels it right now. Forgoing drying himself, he just wraps a towel and opens the cabin door. Coming face-to-face with his true desire, Dean is leaning out of his own doorway, also clad in a very lucky towel. Castiel's eyes land on Dean's coiled abs and he cannot look away.

"Hiya Cas."

"Hello, Dean."

"Uh," he hears the gulp, but those abs… "They didn't bring in any wardrobe. Do you know what… uh… what I'm supposed to do?"

Now his eyes move, immediately on Dean's emeralds and he wants . In an instant he's crowding Dean backwards, kicking the door closed behind them, not stopping until Dean's knees hit the bed and he falls into the mattress. Castiel crawls right over him.

Strong and nimble hands grab at him, that sweetly accented voice pleading, "Kiss me, fucking kiss me!"

Castiel does, but not those begging lips. He honest in on the splendid chest, so firm below his mouth, Dean's heartbeat vibrating the gold. A decadent moan is straight adrenaline when Castiel savors a perky nipple.

Dean runs a hand through Castiel's hair, the movement causing droplets of cooling water to land on this sheer perfection. Oh, even as the water all but boils on the heated flesh, Dean gasps and arches, straining.

Need has taken over. Castiel needs to touch and taste the man he craves , needs to bring incredible pleasure to the man he loves . The job can go fuck itself.

Running a hand over the bulging towel, he thrills at Dean's deep moan. Stroking lightly, he licks down Dean's torso, suckling at the tight abdomen, licking into his navel, lower still. Reaching for the towel, he tugs and pulls–.

A rapid knock on the door and it swings open, "De– oh! Shit!" The door slams, the voice calling from outside, "Sorry!"

Dean whimpers and groans, a fist pounding on the mattress, "Why why why does this keep happening?!"

Castiel can't speak yet, he wants to tell Dean to forget the intrusion, to have his other half writhing again.

But Dean is clearly more level-headed at the moment, shouting, "What d'you want?"

Sam calls back, "Got your clothes. Uh, we're almost to port, so… Yeah."

"Dammit, Sammy! Fine, just give us a minute." Dean sits up and wraps around Castiel, the Angel immediately soothed. "I swear the universe is fucking with us."

Taking every moment he can, Castiel holds tight and hums.

"Dangling this perfect Angel right freaking here, and everytime I almost get a bite of the carrot, the freaking stick pulls it away, wagging a finger like Mutombo."

The metaphor tickles him, Castiel laughs and kisses his man, "You are wonderful, Dean."

"I'm frustrated, babe. Like, seriously."

"Oh, same, sweetheart," but he stands and draws Dean up with him.

"Wet hair is seriously sexy on you, hot stuff," Dean ruffles Castiel's hair. "Guarantee I'm gonna be thinking about this the entire next scene."

"I certainly won't be watching the ballet," Castiel smirks.

"What's with that? Sounds dumb, just sitting in an auditorium, watching people hop around on broken toes to awful music."

A chuckle rises, as happens so often these past few days, "I've been to several and I always have rather unconventional inclinations."

Dean's eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest, " Danseurs your type, Mr. Fancy?"

That spark of jealousy is simply lovely on Dean's beautiful face, Castiel must tease, "Skin-tight costumes, impeccably timed choreography, the sheer drama that must be occurring behind the curtains? What's not to love?"

"Hmmph, guess you'll have fun then," Dean ducks his head and turns away, but there's a flash of sadness in those eyes.

Castiel moves, stepping in front of Dean, "Sweetheart, I'm teasing."

It takes a moment, but the man looks up, "Y'mean that's not your type?"

"No, baby."

Dean draws a breath and raises his chin, "Am I?"

"Oh, Dean, you're not a type. You're profoundly unique," he kisses Dean's cheek, perhaps lingering but he must. "You're extraordinary, pure Dean."

"Mean that?"

"You know I do."

Those strong arms swoop around Castiel's shoulders and squeeze, "Good. 'Cause I was imagining how much trouble I was gonna cause when I started a brawl at the ballet."

Laughing again, Castiel grins against Dean's possessive kiss, "You'd throw hands over me?"

"Elbows up, I'd stomp 'em all."

"That's so sweet."

"Yeah, well," Dean leans back and holds his gaze, "I'm all yours, Cas. But you're also mine . I don't share."

"Yours, Dean, completely."

"Damn right," the beauty kisses him deeply again before letting go. 

"See you in a few minutes," Castiel takes a final look at the magnificence before him.

"Yeah. Cas, wait!"

"Hmm?"

"What unconventional inclinations?"

"Oh. I always see them as birds, flitting about and pecking and, Dean, they look so hungry . I always have the urge to feed them, as in tossing handfuls of birdseed onto the stage.*

Dean cracks with laughter, finally swiping at his eyes and grabbing Castiel's shoulder, "You're awesome, Cas. Don't ever change."

Riding that high, Castiel steps out and closes the door behind him. Ah, the giant is still there.

"Sorry about that, man. Didn't expect, y'know, anything."

"It's alright," Castiel nods and steps around the man.

But Sam moves into his path, hands up, "Hey, listen. Dean's… he's not a playboy. Not a toy to play with."

Instantly enraged but also recognizing the familial protectiveness, Castiel takes a breath to calm himself. Then, "No, he's not. Dean is the most wonderful person I've ever met. He deserves to be adored and worshiped."

"Yeah, okay. Just don't hurt him."

Meaning every word, Castiel is solemn, "I'd chew my own arms off first."

"Good, alright. Thanks."

In his room, Castiel takes a minute to recenter himself after the tumultuous few minutes. Balanced with his mantras echoing, he unzips the garment bags now hanging in the closet.

Huh, apparently there truly has been a change in the schedule. Dressing in his ever-efficient manner, Castiel is quickly ready. Eyeing himself in the mirror, he admires the perfectly tailored fit. But his mind is loaded with possibilities of what Dean will be wearing. This will again be a test of his control. And entirely worth it.

Chapter Text

"Lay off, Sammy."

"I'm just saying one last time and that's it, okay? 'Dating' and messing around in a hotel room is one thing. Dude, you're literally on set. Just keep your dick in your pants. Or better yet, put on some pants and then keep your dick in them."

Every muscle in Dean's body is tense, especially his freaking neck. His mood is going to dip real quick if his brother keeps this up, and he knows Sammy; the guy says 'last tome' and that really means one outta forty last times. No way in hell he can handle that.

"Know what, all cards on the table, alright?"

"Jeez… fine."

"Alright," Dean takes a breath, "I'm in love with Cas. Yeah, I know I've crushed on him forever, but this is different. It's a whole new level, like fifty times more. I'm talking, baring the worst parts of myself and the shit I've done, my habits. And him, too. We just work."

"In love? Dean, you've never been in love!"

"You think I don't know? Hell, this is a whole new experience and I freaking love it! Cas is all I think about, seriously. Like right this second, me n' you are hashing this out, but like 96% of my brain is wondering what Cas is doing right now, what's he wearing, is he tired or thirsty or thinking about me."

"Dude, you sound obsessed."

"What's wrong with that?"

The moose gets close, a hand to Dean's shoulder like some old, wizened professor about to bestow the truth of the universe or some shit. "There's a difference between love and obsession. But they can feel really similar."

"Not this, Sammy. If anything, I'm obsessed with loving that Angel. He doesn't just like me, he's… Cas thinks I'm sweet and wonderful, and we just, we belong together."

"So, in the span of a couple days, you went from single to dating your crush, staying in his room, and now in love ? Work with me here, man, this is just so weird."

Snorting and pacing, Dean just spouts, "Weird is our lives. Hell, I don't want normal. I just want Cas."

The giant huffs and puffs but doesn't completely blow the house down, "Fine. But I'm coming to the next set to keep an eye on you."

"I don't need a friggin' babysitter," Dean's indignant and low-key wishes he could just quit the job and run off with Cas.

"Not a babysitter, consider me your wingman."

Immediately feeling smarmy, Dean smirks back, "Already got one, 'cause I swear my Angel has wings."

"What does that even mean? Gross, no, don't answer that. Listen, after the shit with Gordon, and Cole, and Jam–."

"Enough! This is different, Cas ain't like that."

"Then you have no problem letting me see for myself. Hey, we're brothers and I'll never stop looking out for you."

"Fine, whatever. Soon as you get it through that ridiculously thick skull that Cas lo–likes me, back off."

The moose gives him one of those I can see your thoughts looks and Dean nearly picks a fight. But Sammy relents, "Deal."

"Good," Dean nods to the garment bag, "What're we doing?"

Taking a hand through his ridiculous hair, Sam shifts back to work-mode, "Ah, complete change of scene."

"Dammit, I was seriously so excited about rotting to death at a freaking ballet ."... Or pummeling some pompous dancers.

"Ha, I'll bet. What I heard is Meg and Marv were so inspired by your authentic performances today, they want to go big ."

"Meaning what?"

Now the punk smirks like when he, on the very rare occasion, wins a match of rock, paper, scissors, "Get dressed and back to the main level for hair and makeup. The venue is a surprise and you're gonna improv nearly everything."

"Seriously? I'm so down for that."

"Since when? You whine whenever you're not given the exact freaking angle to tilt your chin."

Shrugging and unzipping the bag, Dean's honest, "Don't need it with Cas, it just works."

"Whatever."

"Sammy, look at this! Damn, Charlie would love it."

"Yeah, bet. Okay, meet me downstairs."

Dean's all smiles as he dresses, maybe humming in happiness at the dark gold panties, so smooth there will definitely be no pantylines tonight. Black athletic-fit tuxedo pants that show off his legs. The belt is simple, and the shoes are black and shiny, nothing special, so he knows the cameras are gonna be focused up top. 

A black dress shirt with kinda wild gold stitching that's definitely gonna pop with the right lighting. Round gold cufflinks are inset with what's gotta be emeralds and sapphires in a ying-yang swirl. Damn, those take a few minutes to get on, they're so distracting… all Dean can think about are Cas' eyes. The tux jacket is a deep forest green velvet, single-breasted with black lapels and a real trim fit. A gold pocket square with a black paisley pattern gets tucked just right. 

Dean admires himself in the mirror, "Lookin' good, you pretty sonuvabitch." Which immediately morphs to, is Cas gonna like it?

Bow tie in hand 'cause these things are impossible, Dean steps out and frowns. Cas' door is open and the room is empty. Dammit. Hoofing it to the main level, he's grouchy because walking alone sucks. Wow, he has gotten real used to his Angel at his side. And that mood dips lower when Cas is nowhere to be seen. Dean's pulled in by the stylists, running lint rollers, styling his hair, adding the cosmetics he pretends to not enjoy. 

Spotting a P.A., he motions the guy over, "You seem Castiel?"

"Yeah, he's at the site. You're supposed to be separated until setup is complete."

Maybe Dean bellows, but he's annoyed, "What? No one told me that!"

"Uh," the guy takes a step back, "I'll get your manager," and scurries off.

Dean's still counting his breaths when Sam stomps over, "Dude, what?"

"That's what I'm asking! Why'd you send Cas without me?"

"I didn't send Cas anywhere, calm the hell down!" The giant politely asks the stylists to hoof it and they look all too happy to be elsewhere, "It's the Director's call. Just chill out , okay? There's not really a script, all I know is you're not supposed to see each other yet."

Dean scowls and fidgets with a cufflink, "I don't like it."

"Well, suck it up, you're working. And quit drowning, you're going to get lines."

Rolling his eyes even as he smooths his forehead, "Everyone gets lines, I'm not scared."

"Sure," there's an evil smirk again, Sammy's gloating, "until you have to get Botox. You know how big those needles are?"

Okay, that worked, Dean just feels queasy. 

"Good. Are you done primping? Let's go."

Following his brother to the truck, they're shuttled from the dock to the Casino.

Dean may be a bit awestruck, but this place is like James Bond-level decadence, "No way, really?!"

"Yeah. Hold on," Moose hops out for a minute, then pokes his head in, "Okay, red carpet scene. Driver opens the door, you step out, look around, button the jacket and stroll right in. Try and do it in one take, it's literally just walking ."

"You're horrible at moral support, y'know that?"

Sam rolls his eyes, "Walking, Dean."

"Whatever, I've got it. Hey, how do I look?"

"Like a paycheck. Go."

The SUV glides to the main entrance, the driver striding to the door. Dean casually stretches his leg out, pausing with one on the step bar, buttoning and letting his eyes wander, even though he's seriously looking for one person. Chin up, shoulders back, his cowboy swagger has a bit more posh right now, but his style is what he's hired for. The doors are opened by two ushers or valets or something, Dean doesn't even acknowledge them, going with the single-minded focus he feels.

Just inside, Meg and a slew of crew are waiting and filming. 

It's like Meg only knows how to speak sarcasm, or maybe she uses it like an accent? Whatever. "Junior has graduated from training wheels to riding the bike all by himself, I'm so proud, Dean."

"Yeah, at least I make it look good," he huffs. "Where's Cas? What now?"

"I'm feeling spunky so we're going to play a game, Where's Waldo. Or for you, Where's Clarence. You get one hint and one only, your unicorn is somewhere in the casino but you have to find him. Don't worry about feeding the cameras, we'll see you, we're going for natural magnetism here so keep up that lovesick demeanor and we'll be just peachy ."

Cas shoulda drowned this viper earlier. Dean nods, "Got it."

"Once you reunite, a P.A. will bring you both some fun little round things to play with. Hit up the tables, slots, whatever you want except for poker, that's too slow and angsty for this vibe. Talk, don't talk, touch, don't actually kiss if you can help yourself. Pretend we're not here."

"That I can do," he means it to his toes.

"Good. Rolling in 15, count it down."

Meg steps away and some unknown person dashes in with a lint roller, another with chapstick, gone in a flash.

"4…3…2…"

Dean strolls across the marble floors, past pillars thick enough to give Atlas a break, following the kinda tacky signs for Games . The opulence of this place is kinda stomach-turning, but none of that matters, only one thing matters and Dean is gonna find him.

It's crowded here, though not as chaotic as Vegas or Atlantic City. The richer people like to play off their excitement, too good for cracking a smile or jabbing with patrons. Whatever. There are bars, but Dean dismissed those right away, knowing. Cas wouldn't expect Dean to find him there. 

He keeps going, strolling past the dizzying sounds and cloying fragrances, eyeing the options and feeling it out. Craps? Not a chance, the name alone, ugh. Poker's out. Slots? Too noisy. Roulette, possibly, it's a lot of odds. Ha! Baccarat… now that's James Bond's game. Yup, that's the one.

Dean changes his path, watching for signs tucked against tables, lit by obscene chandeliers. Weaving between some tipsy elder-women, Dean's eyes never stop searching. Oh, he feels something!

There's no mistaking that sensation, it's like an ocean boils into a tsunami, rising around him, drawing him into the depths of pure freaking Cas. Following the tidal draw, Dean pauses at the crossroads; well, at the intersection of carpets between game tables. The pull intensifies as Dean turns, his eyes flashing across the faceless mob. There!

Lungs and brain forget to communicate again, and that's a-okay, 'cause seeing Cas is more important than some pesky oxygen. Cerulean oceans are on him, consuming him, possessing him.

The Angel is so freaking gorgeous. Dean's tongue agrees but refuses to speak, instead it dips down his throat to figure out the situation with lungs . 

Leaning against a pillar, hell, the pillar is probably leaning against Cas, 'cause forget Atlas, this stud could lift the whole damn thing with that insanely strong body… Dean's eyes give a slow blink, needing the moisture to take in all the hotness right freaking there. Hair slicked back, Cas is staring into his soul, face pure Angel and harder than that column of marble. A burgundy jacquard tux has his tan popping, contrasted by a black shirt and slim tie, a black and forest green pocket square. Black pants stretch around his thighs, glossy shoes peeking out. He's unearthly, holy.

Brain made a connection with feet , and the motion of stepping forward surprised the internal organs enough that tongue resuscitated lungs and they're all back to work. 

Dean feels like he's on a sailboat over gentle waves, coasting above everything to reach the man he loves. Oh, he wants to wrap around Cas, burrow in, get those insane hands on him. With some damn lucky restraint, he stops just inches away.

"Hiya, Cas." Heart rate spiking in anticipation of…

"Hello, Dean."

Yup, that's the one. "I missed you."

That statue melted into beatific, the voice of heaven itself low and rumbly, "Same, sweetheart. I've become quite addicted to being close to you."

"Yeah. You look amazing, babe. So sleek, mmm."

"And you look delicious," Cas has his brain tripping again, his lips hovering at Dean's ear. "Would you like to play a game, Dean?"

Some big, bold portion of Dean's brain presses a button, Dean's voice deepening into his smoothest drawl, "Oh, stud, I don't play," he noses at Cas's ear, "I slay."

Chapter Text

The words dissolve yet another strand of control, Castiel reacts. Spinning them, he has Dean pressed against the column, the beauty's mouth open and panting sweet breaths, eyes so bright and gleaming. The desire in those gems has his fingers twitching, wanting to feel every layer of this fine creature and drag him to the floor.

Castiel grasps that thinning thread and ties a square knot, needing to preserve what's left… their first time will not be as exhibitionists. But he needs this , needs Dean . Hands on either side of Dean's shoulders, he hovers with just an inch between their bodies as the heat rises enough to battle plasma itself. The scent of Dean hits his olfactory senses and Castiel's salivating like a rabid dog. 

Finding sensible words is quite a stretch, incredibly difficult when every muscle in his body is coiled tight, but he must try. "You found me."

A voice as sweet as honey and rich as leather whispers back, "I'll always find you."

Heart throbbing, Castiel watches Dean's lips tremble, but doesn't bite. Yet. "How?"

"I, uh, I just knew, the only place that made sense. It's where I'd wait for you, too."

Oh, that touched him in the softest, sweetest way, Castiel sighs and leans his forehead against Dean's for a moment. Lifting up, he grins, "James Bond?"

"Yeah!" Dean's smile blooms.

The heat between them doesn't dissipate, but it settles to a semi-survivable temperature. 

Reaching for Dean's hand, "We both need a distraction, sweetheart."

Dean takes his hand, squeezes, and pulls on his flirty smile, "I've got an idea."

A groan escapes at the images flashing through Castiel's mind.

"Freaking adorable, Cas! Not that kind… well, yeah, a lot, but later. For now, since we're working and supposed to ignore the vultures, maybe…"

"Tell me."

"Date #2?"

Wanting to taste those words on the most beautiful lips, Castiel settles for kissing golden knuckles, "Perfect."

"Awesome! C'mon, stud, show me how lucky you can get."

Castiel growls at the audacious imp, "Keep it up, Winchester."

Dean just bumps his shoulder and smirks, "As you wish."

Scoffing now, Castiel deadpans, "I'm Westley."

"I sure as hell ain't Princess Buttercup."

"Hmm, no, you can be… Eastley."

The beauty pretends to consider it as they circle a game table, "Meh, potential. Does that make us rivals or buddy pirates?"

"We," spinning Dean to face him, so very close, "can be anything we want to be."

"Cas… together?"

"Together."

Their eyes meet and hold, all else fades out, just meaningless noise that has no hold on the pure bond between them.

"Want that so bad, Cas."

"Me, too, Dean.*

This deity radiates joy and it's absolutely incredible to witness, doubly to be the target of such attention. Dean nods his chin to the side, "Wanna make a bet?"

"I'm listening."

"Whoever wins the most tonight picks our next date."

"The most times or the highest amount?"

Dean smirks, "Times."

"And the date, parameters?"

The beauty leans closer and whispers, "Anything."

"Deal."

"Atta boy. Huh, I've got some great ideas."

Castiel arches a brow, "And you can continue perfecting them for a very long time."

"Nah, third one is on me."

"Dean, I'm going to win."

"You're so hot when you get all lordly," Dean boops his nose.

"Brat. Pick a table."

The first game is baccarat, of course, and they're spaced four seats apart. Yes, Castiel wins over Dean, but it doesn't feel great. They quickly and wordlessly agree to take turns playing hands, so they can stay close and not be spaced out. Feeling Dean's fingers dancing across his shoulder, or his chin resting on Castiel's head, even just the presence right there, it's infinitely better. 

Roulette is next, Dean begins to catch up. Onto the next, Castiel is toying with Dean's fingers when a P.A. approaches with crystal flutes. Startled for a moment, Castiel had forgotten about the film and photog crew. Another one steps in to straighten Dean's bowtie and Castiel bites back a growl; he found the lopsided accessory adorable, caused by Castiel tugging him close by it so many times When a stylist runs a comb and setting spray over Castiel's hair, he sees a disgruntled look on Dean's lovely face.

He asks, "What's wrong?"

Jade eyes narrow on the stylist dashing away, "I liked your hair like that."

Chest flooded with more warmth than the Sun could produce, Castiel knows but must hear the words, "Why?"

A glance up and then Dean meets his eyes, a sheepish smile in place, "'Cause I did it. I like you with bed head."

Castiel could truly change actual physical form right now, stuck in limbo between his heart melting to liquid and his cock trying to turn to stone. Just call him mercury. Turning so he's shoulder-to-shoulder with his date, his back to the visible crew, he whispers, "I suggest we switch up our game."

"Whatcha thinking, hot stuff?"

A mischievous smirk roses on its own, but Castiel fully supports his autonomic reaction, "Let's see how much, mmm, deconstruction we can get away with before the demons step in."

"Oh, I'm so down. These are gonna be the easiest points ever."

"Yes, they'll certainly boost my winning score."

"Ha, you wish! Nah, I've got a surefire win."

"So cheeky, Dean. How?"

"See, you're kinda hot, y'know? Always so put-together and perfect, a true Greek God. But this," Dean turns, pressing close, one hand trailing down Castiel's chest and popping open the buttons of his jacket slowly, "seeing you undone, rumpled," that hand runs up to Castiel's tie and deftly loosens the knot, "messy… I know that's what you'd look like if you threw me to the floor and fucked me right here…"

Castiel can hardly breathe; if his muscles are allowed oxygen he won't be able to control them.

"You're gonna fry every camera aimed at you."

" Dean ," it's a snarl and a plea.

"Yeah, that's my name, stud," Dean rubs his cheek against Castiel's neck, "but you can also call me… Champ."

The golden man hops back a couple steps, wisely so, as Castiel grabbed for him. Dean's grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.

Finally breathing normally, Castiel scrubs at his jaw, glaring at the man, "You are absolutely insufferable."

"Ooh, didn't take you to be a sore loser, Angel."

"Game on, Winchester."

"Yeah? Cheers," Dean holds out his flute, which Castiel clinks and the golden man adds, "to me."

Despite the monsoon of emotions racing through his core, Castiel cannot hold back a laugh. Grabbing Dean around the shoulders, he guides them to the slot machines. Here the lights are bright, neon, vulgar, the antithesis of what they experienced the past few hours. And they get playful.

They roam the machines, pulling close, spinning away, dragging each other from one obnoxious game to the next. Their hands are active, flicking open buttons, mussing each other's hair while laughing at a loss. Dean's bow tie hangs open, and Castiel's is a long necklace at this point. 

Pulling Dean onto his lap at a cheesy game station, he whips his tie off and around Dean's eyes, telling the sweet man he truly has to rely on luck now. But Dean rises to the challenge, a hand waving in the air a good six inches from the machine. Oh, Castiel knows his game; threading his fingers between Dean's, he guides them to the buttons. Groaning in mock frustration when Dean wins the roll, his eyes flash when Dean just tugs the tie down around his own neck. Dean clearly has more functioning brain cells left, the imp grabs Castiel's pocket square, shakes it loose and dabs at Castiel's cheeks, "Aw, babe, crying because I won?"

Voice grinding out with heat he just cannot calm, Castiel grabs his own tie and tugs Dean down, "I'll have you in tears soon enough."

Dean draws a sharp breath and licks those pretty lips, "Cas, I need–.'

"That's a wrap on the public peepshow. What do you say, let's move and let the blue hairs get their pacemakers back on track?"

"Meg Masters, I truly hope to never see you again," Castiel is dead certain this evil being is doing this entirely on purpose.

"Oh, that's not very nice. You sound pent-up, Novak. Should we take a break before the final scene or can you be a professional for, oh, I'm guessing you boys will last maybe two minutes at this point?"

Dean grumbles and climbs off of Castiel's lap, "It's like you get off this."

Meg shrugs, "I may have taken a rather long personal break after the roulette scene, but I'll never tell. Oh, boys, don't fix anything, your little game gave just the right amount of tease to lead into the big ol' cherry on top. Hmm, though I'm pretty sure you're a bottom, Dean."

Yeah, they're both glaring at the spawn of Beelzebub. 

"Cas?"

Dropping the annoyance and turning to this lovely ray of sunshine, "Hmm?"

Voice low but eyes wide, Dean whispers, "Is this gonna be awkward?"

"Nude scenes are generally uncomfortable," Castiel admits, but then assures the man he loves, "But not with you."

"I was thinking the same." Dean toys with Castiel's fingers in an utterly endearing way, "Just, how do you not get turned on?"

"Oh. That has never been an issue before. Despite my, mmm, behavior these past days, I've always been professional ."

"Wait, you're not worried about, y'know…?

"I am now, with you," Castiel feels the heat bubbling again, helpless to the sheer pull of gravity from Dean. "Let's just consider it… foreplay."

"Fucking hell," Dean's head drops back, his cheeks pinkening so delectably. But the imp in him rises again at the same time as a flirty smile, "Deal. But that doesn't mean you get to skimp when we finally get there.

Grabbing Dean's hips and yanking him forward, Castiel gives zero fuck's about who's watching right now. Needing to taste this utter temptation, he licks up Dean's neck, just one slow drag to reach Dean's ear. His voice is rougher than intended but he's absolutely laden with need, "I said days , and I mean days ."

"That's my feisty Angel," Dean arches his neck closer, grabbing him tight.

Only able to part because the voices around them grew louder as the crew gathered for some unholy reason, Castiel drowns in Dean's eyes for a moment. Then a thought strikes, "Oh, are you familiar with modesty coordinators?"

"Yeah, got the rundown in printed form last week. What kinda bad karma does someone have to build up to get stuck with that job?

"Adorable, sweetheart. Do you have questions?"

"Yeah," Dean walks two fingers up Castiel's chest, "and a comment. Awesome second date, babe."

Grinning in happiness, Castiel knows he's making the face that's the antithesis of Angel, but he feels joy, "I agree."

"And, who won?"

"I did."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"I'm positive."

"Not a chance."

"I believe we're at an impasse."

"Or, we could keep it going," Dean gives his absolutely devastating and iconic smolder, looking up through his lashes and at this moment, there is nothing Castiel would possibly deny him.

Wholeheartedly meaning it, "Anything you want."

"Mmhmm, that's what I'm gonna win."

"Cheeky."

Dean winks and drops a bomb, "You like my cheeks," and struts his fine ass away.

Castiel groans, knowing he walked right into that one. But there's no way he could not watch Dean's plump ass and those legs… 

This has already been a long day, with more work to be done. And after… well, if the director doesn't give the stamp of completion, Castiel will lose his fucking mind.

Chanting his mantra, Castiel follows Dean, as he always will.

Chapter Text

"Ain't happening."

"Uh, it's the industry standard."

"Don't care, I'm not doing that," Dean raises his chin.

The modesty or intimacy coordinator, whoever this woman is, just stutters and looks around, "The Union regulates how–."

"Nope. My body, my choice.* Huh, not a statement he's had to make before, but Dean mentally cheerses for all those who've had to. 

"But–."

"No."

The woman races out of the room. Good. Dean is getting a bit antsy, ready to just get the scene moving and over with so he can have the real thing.

"What the hell, man?"

Dean groans and pinches the bridge of his nose before facing his brother.

Sammy is all huffy, hair flapping as he storms around the room, "Seriously, Dean, what is wrong with you?"

"I'm not wearing a sock over my dick."

"Jeez, you are so freaking dramatic. It's a pouch and you have to."

Glowering at his brother, Dean shakes his head, "Ain't a nude scene if I'm not nude."

"It's not about you, princess. There are rules to protect every party involved. No one wants to see your balls while they're just doing their job."

Jutting his chin obstinately, "It's part of the job."

"You're confusing real life with porn again," Sam gets all huffy. "This is a commercial , not Casa Erotica."

"Oh, I don't know, with the way these boys have been fogging up the lenses, we're one teensy step from crossing that line."

Biting back a groan, Dean turns to face the demoness.

Meg keeps going, "But we're classy and won't be crossing that line. That's for you and your Unicorn to do on your own time. This is my time, so you're going to unwad your panties, cover up your junk and give us some more of that steamy smolder that has the old boy drooling. Got it?

Humming Metallica in his head, Dean forces himself to respond, "Yeah."

"Good. Elevator in five," and she slides away to stab someone else with her pitchfork tail.

"Nice, Dean," Sammy shakes his head.

"Whatever. This sucks."

"You're literally complaining as if this is hard. It's the easiest job you've ever had. And you literally will be making out with the guy you're obsessed with. Shit," the giant pats his pockets, "where is it?"

Dean's confused, "Where's what?"

"The violin. Suck it up, buttercup."

"Bitch." Grabbing the stupid freaking fabric, Dean stomps into the bathroom to handle his business. Yeah, this pouch looks ridiculous. Fuck.

Cramming three sticks of gum into his mouth, Dean gnaws at the lump until he's totally sure his mouth is minty fresh. Eyeing himself in the mirror, he's nervous. Not about Cas, no, Dean is dead certain about Cas, everything about Cas. The nerves are coming from knowing he's gonna be fighting his cock the entire scene. Sure, Dean's used to attention, loves it, but how's he supposed to… and not… Ugh, even his brain can't form the right words, just kinda stuck on the images.

Deep breath in, count it out. Dumping the wad of gum in the wastebasket, Dean's out the door.

And immediately feels better because Cas is right there. The anxiety just washes away as those ocean eyes pour over him, replaced by something sweet and fresh and amazing. Cas cups Dean's cheek, voice so low and beautiful, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just… had a moment," Dean leans into the touch, "better now."

"We're close, sweetheart."

A tremble courses Dean's body, anticipation threading every fiber. He focuses on breathing normally which never had been an issue before meeting Cas. Watching his Angel's elegant fingers remove Dean's cuff links and then his own, Dean's curious.

Cas knows, so freaking perfect, "It's best to take them off now rather than while shooting."

"Oh. I seriously wouldn't have thought of it."

"Mmhmm," Cas pockets the accessories, "I learned that the hard way many years ago."

It's just a small thing, sure, but the thoughtfulness tickles Dean's heart, "Thank you, babe."

The stud smiles with that super-soft curl of lips and Dean could swoon. Okay, he totally did, but how couldn't he when his… Oh, a thought pops in and Dean goes with it, *Cas, can we make this official?"

Sapphires so huge that they must be priceless stare into his soul, "Us?"

"Yeah, I, uh," Dean's mouth is suddenly dry, knowing his timing is ridiculous but he needs this, "I don't wanna make out and strip down with my coworker . But I sure as hell want to with my boyfriend ."

"Dean, I… yes!" Cas is beaming bright enough that Dean could maintain a tan just from that smile. 

Heart soaring, Dean grabs his Angel and pulls him in for a kiss, tuning out the rest of the world. Nothing matches the touch and taste of Cas, he's arousing and soothing at the same freaking time. Perfect.

While Dean floats in the sweet headspace, Cas peppers his face with little kisses, just so sweet and Dean's knees are knocking again. And over way too soon.

"It's time, Dean," that deep voice churns over him. "Let's go before someone sends out her flying monkeys."

"Ha! I could totally see it. But it's okay, I'll protect my sexy boyfriend," stealing a kiss and forcing his feet to move.

Cas raises that wicked brow and deadpans, "Oh, you think I'm weak?"

"Nope, the strongest hottie ever," Dean hums in appreciation as his eyes roam, "but I wanna fight for you. Ballerinas and monkeys stand no chance against Dean friggin' Winchester."

There are several snorts and laughs around them, the crew obviously overhearing and… Well, shit, now Dean's blushing. "Guess that sounded ridiculous."

"Mmm, no, you're mispronouncing it. Adorable, Dean, and so very sweet," Cas has that small smile now, the one that curls up just at the corner of his lips and warms his eyes. 

Dean swoons again. 

A few last-second adjustments by the scurrying people and they're ready. Dean's not nervous, not at all… he's got more jello in his limbs than brunch at a retirement community. 

Countdown is called and they're rolling.

Dean shoves Cas against the wall of the elevator, sliding his body flush, running one hand up Cas' insane chest. Lips close but not meeting, he is already slipping 'cause all he wants is to feel that plush mouth against his. The stud feels incredible under his hands, and Cas' hands feel wicked. One cards into Dean's hair, tugging, arching him back and yeah, Dean gasps and maybe he moans, sue him.

The elevator doors are propped open, but the audience won't know, all they'll see is Cas stalking Dean, walking him backwards like… oh shit, like on the yacht. Yeah, there goes Dean's cock, he loves how Cas' eyes flash, sexy jaw so tight and ready to just bite. The film crew and others all just fade away, Dean is again damn focused on his man.

Breathing keeps slipping off the to do list 'cause every part of Dean's being has one singular purpose. The stud catches him and replicates Dean's move, pushing him against the wall, mouth whispering a millimeter from his throat. Yup, that teasing has Dean groaning in need. We're working, we're working, we're working… oh fuck, Cas' hands are so fucking dexterous!

There's no script, no marks, the only direction was to put on a good show. Oh, there's no denying this is hot, but Dean feels inspired. Arching off the wall, his fingers are at least on his side and they listen, tugging the tie up over Dean's head and replacing it around Cas' thick neck. With a spin of heel, Dean grabs the end and tows Cas down the hallway, tossing a flirty smirk over his shoulder. And beat swallows his tongue again when the stud growls , that sound is so wicked.

The room's door is propped open because this bit will be clipped. Good thing, too, because there are much better things to do than fiddle with a fucking card. Excitement shivered from Dean's head-to-toe, just blocking out the ridiculous amount of people circling this hotel room with bulky equipment. Here's where shit gets so much better.

Cas steps behind him, finally putting those lips on him while peeling Dean's shirt off. All Dean can do is gasp for breath and arch back, desperate for more. The stud's kissing across his now-bare shoulder, other hand circling and flicking open his belt. Each movement is monumental, shaking Dean to the core, stroking his very soul.

The moment his pants slip down to the floor, Dean twists and wraps around Cas' neck and does his damnedest to eat his boyfriend alive. Sure, he shudders and maybe writhes a bit when Cas' hand dips across his ass, just one thin layer of satin between them. And does he moan when Cas drops his own shirt and whips off his belt? That would be an affirmative.

Down to only some real tight black boxer briefs and his toe, Cas is a pure fucking god, so majestic Dean wouldn't be surprised to see actual wings unfurl from his back. But no, Cas does something even better than manifesting feathers; he grabs Dean's hips and hikes him up. Dean's immediately and so naturally wrap around Cas' waist, ankles crossing and locking. Huge hands cup his ass and lower back as the stud walks them to the bedroom as if Dean weighed nothing. Breath hitching at the show of sheer strength, Dean's a mess, can barely think, keeps forgetting that they're on a set, that this is a scene. Fuck.

Cas doesn't drop Dean on the bed, no, he crawls right up and scoots them to the middle before laying Dean out and covering him. Cas' tongue drags from his throat over his collarbone, down his breastbone and Dean can't breathe. Running a hand through Cas' hair, they're so close, pure bliss is right there, winking at them and whispering c'mon boys.

Wait… Fuuuuuuck! 

"How many times do I have to say cut,? C'mon boys, stow the lustiness for a minute."

Cas' groan is exactly what Dean's feeling. And he kinda wants to cry… or punch something… prolly both. There's chatter around them, voices rattling off some words Dean couldn't care less about. When his stud raises his head, yeah, Dean knows. They wait, because they're professionals and if either got up right now, there would be bloodshed.

Doesn't take long, the Wicked Witch of the Set just loves to hear her own voice, "What a show, I could just feel the chemistry in the air. Or testosterone, semantics. But we got some great shots and enough roll to keep the target audience salivating, so I'm making an executive decision and scrapping all but one final scene. If you lose the panties, we'll be a bit too close to that line and I only intend to penetrate the minds and wallets of the customers, nothing else . Last round, balcony, all the sweet and cuddly bits that are utterly cloying."

Yeah, Dean hopes someone drops a house on the bitch, but he's also relieved to not have to be seen in this ridiculous pouch. Pulling Cas' head to his chest for a moment, he just holds tight and waits for his body to finish wilting.

Lips press a chaste kiss to his, Cas lifting to his elbows now, "It's better this way, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean nods, "Just can't take much more of this edging game."

There's a smile so wicked Dean's stomach coils in excitement, then low words whisper right into his ear, "Hmm, I think you can."

"Nuh uh, don't you dare!"

"I'm imagining you begging, tears dripping down your beautiful face, so desperate to–." 

Dean halts the Angel the only way he can, yanking him down and chewing on his tongue, suckling against him. Finally letting go, he narrows his eyes, "You even try to string me along, I'm gonna do twice as worse to you."

The response was unexpected and holy hell fucking hot! Cas growls into his mouth, "Deal," and plunders.

Voices call to them again and they painfully part, though Dean's mind is swamped with images of driving Cas to the breaking point. To have Cas begging Dean… fuck. 

Deep red silk robes are handed out, Cas' belted at his freaking hot waist, Dean's left loose and open. This bit will be fast, or at least it had better be. 

The balcony overlooks the port and bay, soft lights twinkling against the night sky. A breeze carries in the sweet salty air, tossling Dean's hair as he steps out. Cas is there, face turned to the water, his profile caught against the backdrop and taking an okay scenic view and raising it to holy. Pressing up behind his boyfriend, Dean rests his chin on the strongest shoulder he's ever felt. Crystal highball glass in one hand, he wraps around and holds it to Cas, tilting to offer a sip before setting it aside. 

Hands fee, he just holds on and melts against the man he loves. From there, Cas turns around and cups his chin, placing soft, lingering kisses. Because this is work, ugh, they rotate around, mouth locked but giving the photogs all the angles they could possibly want. 

When the soulless creature calls the scene, it's the only time Dean's kinda happy to hear her voice. Now they just need an actual break from the universe, Dean's crossing his fingers that they call a wrap and let him and Cas escape. 

Cas pulls him inside and to the main room, grabbing a water bottle and just being a sweet and freaking perfect guy. Taking a couple sips, he offers the bottle and maybe his heart does a little flipflop when Cas smiles and chugs down nearly the whole thing. Yeah, they got worked up. 

They don't speak, don't have to, just stay close and that's awesome. People swarm around, doing whatever it is, who knows, there's something way more important to keep an eye on. Yeah, it's Cas. His Cas.

Watching every expression on the Angel's perfect face, he sees the moment someone approaches 'cause Cas' eyes narrow sharply its kinda surprising that his eyelids aren't shredded. But Dean knows and takes the preemptive step this time.

Eyeing the Director, he juts his chin, "We done here?"

"So moody, Winchester."

"Just ready to be done."

"I'm sure that's what you want done ," she smirks and he imagines driving a truck right over her smug face. "Well, I've got to give props where they're due. It turns out Wally was ever so wise to pair you two up, we've got pure gold and With your dedication to creating an ambience, no retakes. So we're closing up two full days early and now I can finally take a bite out of the locals."

Cas' sexy voice is dry and kinda adorable, "That's what we work for, Meg, anything to get you out of here."

"Ouch, Novak, and here I thought we were the bestest of friends. Too bad. Well," she motions behind her, a few final crew mates are carting out cases and totes, "we're out. Since the room is already paid up for the night, feel free to take advantage of such a sweet opportunity. Call it a goodwill gesture from the bottom of my heart. And I mean the very bottom."

Cas arches that brow and the woman huffs, spinning on her heel and strutting to the main door as someone dips out. She tosses a smirk over her shoulder, "Oh, there's a gift basket on the dining table. Compliments of Cupid."

And for all that's wonderful, she's gone. The door clicks shut and Dean's grinning when Cas stalks over and slides the chain in place, flipping the deadbolt.

Then Cas turns and catches him with those sapphires… and Dean forgets to breathe. Doesn't want to, doesn't need to, all he needs is right there. Gasping as a flush takes over his chest, Dean can barely form the single word, "Cas?"

"Yes, Dean."

Chapter Text

His entire body is vibrating with need, pulse pounding oh so loudly. Castiel needs Dean, must hold and touch now .

A few long strides and he's hovering an inch from his boyfriend, the very concept is cause for a new religious holiday… one Castiel will honor and worship daily, for eternity.

Unwilling to let his eyes close and miss the beauty before him, he brushes across Dean's lips. Oh, the beauty's eyes flutter again, so lovely, but then they widen, accompanied by a husky moan.

"Babe, I mean this with everything I've got, anyone interrupts us now, I'm gonna Hulk-smash."

How could he not love this ridiculously adorable man? Smiling as he nuzzles against Dean's throat, "And I will gladly light the remaining bits on fire."

"That's my Angel, such a fucking BAMF! Touch me, Cas."

The words themselves are fire and the men are surrounded by kindling. With a growl Castiel pounces on his beloved, drawing them flush, marveling at the incredible sensations from such a simple touch. Hands around Dean's hips, he drives the man across the room until they bump against the dining table. Hiking the cowboy up, sliding him onto the tabletop, Castiel takes his fill from these mind-dazzling lips.

Tearing away for a moment purely for the sake of Dean's comfort and needs, Castiel grabs water and juice bottles from the fridge. Cracking the juice lid, he holds it out and smiles with satisfaction when Dean follows the unspoken command.

"Thanks, babe," lovely words as the beauty downs half the bottle. 

Castiel finishes the rest, eyes on Dean's magnificent face. He sees when the beauty raises his brows and reaches for… ah, the gift basket. It's a travel case similar to what Castiel uses for his hygiene and self-care supplies. Golden fingers unsnap the lid and both men groan. The case is laden with a variety of lube, condoms, wet wipes, gum, massage oil and so much more.

"Hey, Cas, we kinda never had that talk. Busy coupla days."

Castiel knows, "Yes, the very best. I tested when I learned of… him, and again a few months ago. I haven't been with anyone during that time."

Dean's eyes are bright and beautiful despite appearing uncomfortable with the necessary conversation. "Yeah, about four months since I… either one. Clean."

"Would you be open to forgoing condoms?"

A sweet blush overtakes those strong cheekbones, a quick peek of a pink tongue over plush lips, then, "Yeah. I… ah…"

Oh, he wants to pull Dean close and lick the next words from his lips, but this is not the moment. Allowing Dean space to not feel crowded or pushed, Castiel holds his hand, "You can say anything, Dean. Always."

There's a quick nod, Dean's voice is thick and low, "Never went bare before."

Castiel's brain freezes, only mustering one word, "Never?"

"Nah, just… always suited up no matter top or bottom."

Even as that settles into Castiel's soul, he tamps back when the image of Dean's ass spread out and dropping with his cum nearly takes over. Choking back the need to claim this perfect entity, Castiel reaches into the basket to sort the condoms, but a strong hand grabs his wrist.

"Really wanna feel you, Cas."

Perimeter fences have too few joules to compare to the bolt of pure energy that courses Castiel's entire system. Fingers and toes curling, muscles quivering under the commands, jaw clenching, it's wholly thrilling. But Dean's comfort is more important than euphoria, so he forces himself to speak, "Only if you're truly comfortable. I won't do any–."

"Cas," the beauty presses in for a hot, wet kiss, "I want everything with you. Every single thing you n' me can do, I want it. And I want more than this," a finger to the faint bruise on his golden throat. 

"Dean."

"Yah, stud, that's my name. Take me to bed, Cas."

Castiel is already moving, lifting Dean so those long legs are again wonderfully wrapped around his waist. He sees Dean grab a tube from the basket and then carries his boyfriend into the bedroom. Bed still messy, air still scented by the candles from the scene, balcony doors open and drawing in the sea breeze, it's all ignored in favor of something so much better: Dean.

Setting the ray of sunshine on the bed, they move so seamlessly without words, both rising to their knees. While Dean's sexy legs are a bit longer, like this they're eye-to-eye. Slipping Dean's robe off, his hands replace every millimeter that had been so egregiously hidden from the Angel's sight. Feeling Dean do the same is absolutely heady, strong fingers a juxtaposition of soft skin and calluses. Incredible.

Taking Dean's mouth, Castiel is starving and desperate to claim his lover. Even stronger than that primal desire, he wants to worship Dean, to bring him absolute bliss, to give the man he loves everything.

Lips and fingers roam, each free to explore. Castiel finds a spot along Dean's right hip that has the man gasping from the lightest touch. And he immediately needs more. 

Pushing until Dean is laying on his back, Castiel devours his mouth and moves lower. Dragging his tongue on a warpath to that exquisite hip, Castiel circles the sharp bone, then suckles right at the vee. A deep groan heats the air, body arching against Castiel's mouth while fingers knot in his hair. So very willing to oblige any request from his sweet man, Castiel runs his teeth across the sensitive spot, hearing the mumbled curse. With his own growl, Castiel gives in and bites. 

" Fuck! Cas, please, baby, more!"

Not needing to be begged twice, Castiel nips and chews his way across the tight, golden abdomen, tongue following the ripped lines of muscle. Feeling Dean's cock pressing against his chest, Castiel is near-frenzied, barely holding on to that slippery gossamer of control. And when he licks along the waistline of Dean's gold panties, his own cock is dripping, leaking, begging.

Pushing up, Castiel's eyes are on his boyfriend's as he slowly rolls the satin and matched skintone thong down– and blinks in surprise when Dean groans and rolls over.

"Dean, I'm sorry, did–?"

Muffled, Dean's voice is low so it still vibrates the air enough to be heard, "No, Cas, not you, promise. I, ah, fucking hell, I forgot about the freaking pouch."

Relief washes away the bone chilling fear that he had done something wrong, taken too much liberty. No, this he can work with. Bending forward, he kisses Dean's neck, willing him to lift his head, "Sweetheart, it's okay. Let me undress you."

The words are even more muffled now, "Can't. It looks so stupid. Don't want you seeing me like this."

Aiming to placate, "I'm wearing one, too."

"Yeah, but everything you do is hot. Swear you could wear a Grimace costume and I'd still be drooling."

Chuckling at the ridiculous image, Castiel kisses along Dean's shoulder, "Adorable. Dean, I need to see you. To touch you."

There's a groan, but the beauty lifts his head, "Yeah, want that, too. Just… close your eyes for a minute, please?"

For Dean, anything. Castiel does.

Movement is felt, the mattress dips and sways, the unmistakable sound of Dean kicking his legs paints a humorous picture in Castiel's mind. He hears a deep breath, then, "Okay."

Eyes land right on Dean's, drinking in the flushed beauty, the sparkling emeralds and freckles, the puffy, parted lips. Down over a body meant to be caressed and licked and honored. Landing on a cock that is as pink and gold as Dean's blush, thick and long and perfectly curved. Castiel needs this.

Dropping back and licking a long line from base-to-tip, Castiel groans at the warmth against his tongue, the faint tremors, the sweet morsel spread across the fat head. Working his lips right over, he allows himself one touch, just gripping this delicious cock and angling towards his own mouth. Inhaling an inch at a time, Castiel is lost in the flavor and sheer connection, having a piece of his lover inside his body. 

There are sweet curses, filthy words, moans and gasps, such beautiful sounds arising from Dean. Taking his time working down, finally the entire length is buried in Castiel's throat, his nose against Dean's taut belly, hands rubbing everything he can reach. Lifting while sucking hard, Castiel swallows around the head and drops again, building a long, slow, deadly rhythm. Every dribble leaking from this perfect cock has Castiel's eyes rolling back, his breath catching, tasting Dean.

Coiled and humming, the golden body is writhing, Dean gasping as he trembles beneath Castiel's mouth. Watching his lover fall apart, Castiel is determined to drive him off the edge, to taste the first orgasm. 

But a sudden tug has him lifting; Dean drags at his hair, pulling him until their lips meet, pink tongue swirling against Castiel's for a hot and filthy moment. "Nuh uh, Cas. First time we're doing it right. I'm not cumming until you're buried in me."

That sends a shudder down Castiel's spine, bucking his hips wantonly against Dean's. But he can muster a final attempt to offer more, "I plan to feel everything, Dean. My tongue and fingers will taste your body first," finding Dean's ear to nip, "Worship," suckling down Dean's throat, "should not be rushed."

"Oh, fuck, Cas, please…"

"Tell me, Dean," teasing a nipple, rubbing his lips against the pert bud, "tell me what you want."

"Want you… everything you said, babe. Just don't let me cum first, please?"

Hearing his man beg to be denied something, it's a stroke across the part of Castiel he has buried for so very long. Biting back the growl already vibrating in his chest, "Only when I've tasted everything, taken you apart until you're in tears and begging," licking across Dean's heaving ribs, "when I've filled you with my cum, then," sinking into that sensitive hip bruise again, "I may let you cum."

There's a wail, absolutely exquisite and as potent as a splash of lighter fluid on a bonfire; another eruption adding to the inferno, a flare feeding into the whole.

Sliding back further, Castiel offers worship to Dean's leg. Touching, rubbing, massaging into the quivering muscles, kissing along the defined lines, licking at the back of his knee, bathing his lover in devotion. When he makes it to the end, literally at Dean's feet, tongue wrapped around a big toe and a gentle suck, Dean shouts and grabs his own cock. Hand wrapped tight, eyes wide as his head lolls back and forth, the beauty is a devastatingly gorgeous mess. Seeing the beauty falling apart and straining to not let an orgasm overtake his desires, it goes straight to Castiel's ego and id. Pure fuel.

Moving to Dean's other foot, Castiel continues the adoration, working his way up with nothing missed. At Dean's hip, he lingers, all too happy to absorb the debauched sounds rising from his cowboy. But he needs more.

A nudge and, "On your belly, baby."

The enrapturing creature moans and rolls, resting his forehead on folded arms. Castiel freezes; not out of confusion or shock, no, instead to deny his fingers oxygen to take and to bolster any semblance of control. Finally able to take cautious breaths, Castiel funnels so much into restraining his own limbs that he forgets to control his mouth. He's growling, he hears it but is helpless to stop. 

Pure gold stretches out before him, a long body roped with muscle and strength, coated with the sweetest skin. Wide shoulders so tense and rolling lead to a narrow waist just begging for fingerprints, down to narrow hips and all the cake Castiel could ever want. Yes, the decadent body continues and is utterly phenomenal, as his ministrations moments ago proved, but he cannot tear his eyes away from Dean's ass. 

Plush, thick, the firmest bubble that has ever existed naturally. Kneeling between Dean's spread thighs, Castiel kneads into the golden cheeks, trembling at the strength found and yet equally moved by the way each globe gives under his touch. His primal needs take over for a blessed and debased moment, dropping low and sinking his teeth into the cake. Not fully biting but sure as hell pressing and making his presence undeniable.

Dean's moans and arches, a wrecked voice calling over his shoulder, "C'mon, Cas, mark me. All yours, babe."

That growl doesn't diminish, just becomes more feral and Castiel is at his very limit, so close to losing all restraint. All but snarling against his boyfriend's golden ass, "Mine!" He bites.

There's a wailing moan, discordant and the sweetest sound to ever pour out of a human, "Yours! Fuck, keep using that mouth, please!"

Releasing the bite, Castiel's chest heaves as he eyes the darkening mark, just one of many claims left across this paragon. And the best one is yet to come.

Finally allowing himself to taste what he needs more desperately than functioning lungs, Castiel spreads Dean's plush cheeks and laps across the furled flesh. Oh, he hears Dean's moan, but it's mixed in with the myriad of sounds erupting from Castiel's chest and throat, while his lips are pressed against the sweet, smooth flesh of his lover. Licking down to Dean's balls and back up, he follows the path of each scrinkle along this beckoning pucker. Using his thumbs to gently spread, he presses his tongue in, determined to eat Dean alive. Now his control does slip, he gives in to the mind-numbing desire to consume Dean, to fill him, to be one .

Grabbing Dean's hips and yanking them up, Castiel keeps a hand against Dean's shoulder blades, keeping the beauty's face to the mattress. But now he has so much more access to this buffet. Staring down, he becomes transfixed for a moment before getting back to his feast. Hands roam at their own volition, every touch bringing Castiel a sense of elation as Dean responds to intensely. But under his mouth, this divine creature melts and spreads, all for Castiel. Hearing his name moaned and whispered just inspires him further, sliding one finger past the tight, spasming ring of muscle.

Dean pushes back, "Finally! Thought you were gonna tease me to death."

Laughing against the thick bubble, Castiel nips and says, "This is nothing, baby. Just wait until I'm not nearly feral, oh the ways I'm going to take you apart.*

A whimper is the only response and it is beautiful.

Finding the lube Dean grabbed, Castiel pulls out and adds some to two fingers, twisting them in, stroking from the inside out. Other hand reaching low to trail a finger along Dean's beautiful cock, Castiel immerses himself in Dean's body. When he can twist and pull with little resistance, Castiel adds a third and savors how Dean squirms below and around him. Again taking his time, absolutely momentarily content to prep Dean while continuing his adoration of the breathtaking perfection that is Dean.

A fourth slick finger joins the party and now Dean's on his hands and knees, actively thrusting back against Castiel's hand. Base desire takes the reins again, Castiel ruts against Dean's ass, his cock imprisoned by his boxer briefs but damn needy as it presses against his own fingers buried in Dean's ass. Only a second is allowed before Castiel clamps down and takes back the reins, perhaps dropping sweat with the effort.

A deep thrust, fingers rubbing against that sweet spot the entire time, then dragging across on their way back out, both men are heaving now. Spreading Dean's rum just once, Castiel groans deep and dirty, knowing exactly where his cock needs to be.

Flipping Dean to his back and invading his mouth, Castiel's nearing the frenzy level once again. For every demand he makes, Dean meets and makes his own, a ring of fire that's not destructive but mutually euphoric. Pulling Dean's left thigh up, sliding between the bowed legs, Castiel needs this. His hand already slicked up his own cock, unable to touch more or else he'll cum right here and now. No, he must hold on, he must wait.

Nudging the tip against Dean's spread hole, Castiel scoops behind Dean's neck and raises him. Lips find one another, the intense emotions and feelings and sensations that have no words are transferred across their incredible bond. 

A broken whisper from the most beautiful voice, "Need you, Cas."

A roll of hips and Castiel's cock pushes past that tight rim, inching deeper with each thrust. Delirious by the time he's fully seated in the perfection that is Dean Winchester, Castiel is seeing stars.

Dean arches up, arms riled around his neck, mouth taking him in a flurry of intense demands. One hand races down his back, nails scratching in the most exquisite way, "Cas, Cas, please… fuck!"

Unable to do more than throw together syllables, the sensations of Dean are too strong to withstand, Castiel chokes out, "Tell me."

"Just take me, yours, Angel, all yours!"

The words spur him like nothing else, his body responding to draw back until his cock is pulling at that delicious rum, then slamming into the hilt, buried. Dean's wail is music, a symphony with the addition of their mutual gasps and moans, the sound of slick flesh, groping hands, even the faint whistle of wind. This is music.

When Dean arches up, wrapping long legs around Castiel's hips, the Angel nearly falls apart. But he's strong, he can hold out, not giving into his own needs until he has Dean delirious and floating. He must.

Finding his first mark on the perfect creature, Castiel's lips nuzzle fervently, tongue lashing across the claim. His hands scoop beneath Dean's shoulders, weight on his elbows as he pummels his boyfriend's sweet spot relentlessly, mouth now covering Dean's to swallow down the wails and screams. A particularly inspired and intense battering has Dean reaching a new octave, body arching like struck by lightning.

Eyes wide and bright, a scream pouring out as tears flow, Dean shouts and leads, "Please, Cas, now, please! Yours, mine, please!"

Castiel is gone, all control given to the powers that fuel his love and desire and devotion to his Dean. Managing a few final thrusts, each slamming against Dean's sweet spot, Castiel peaks and cums. Awash in utter bliss, his cock is milked by the perfect heat of Dean, all senses flooded by Dean, even the mental side comes to play with the thought that he has now marked Dean, claimed him in the deepest manner possible, for the first time. A deluge fills his lover, Castiel pouring copious amounts of hot seed within his man, his lover, his heart.

Dean shouts and whimpers a plea, which has Castiel thrashing through the final weak spurts, hand gripping Dean's beautiful cock and growling back, "Cum for me, baby, cum on my cock."

There's a scream, the tone so deep and masculine and sheer fucking perfection that Castiel's spent cock gives a nod of appreciation. Then Dean's pouring over his hand, each spurt slicking Castiel's strokes, the beauty's body shaking and trembling, stunning.

Unable to resist, Castiel kneels back and licks his fingers. He can hardly see, blood pressure too high to see much more than the pulsing of his own eyelids, cannot hear beyond his own heartbeat. Oh, but he can taste. And Dean is delicious.

Fingers clean, he nuzzles against Dean's pulsing, sweaty throat, murmuring sweet and inconsequential words. With great effort, Castiel rolls to his backa nd pulls Dean to his side, their legs intertwined. 

Long minutes pass as they each recover the autonomous bodily functions that seem to have been forgotten lately. 

Dean sighs long and sweet, "Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you check my toes?"

Worry descends, Castiel lifting his head to give Dean's… gorgeous body a once over. Focus! "What's wrong?"

There's a sigh, "Dunno. Can't feel 'em."

Pure joy settles in and Castiel cracks in laughter, "My sweet Dean, the things you say are beyond adorable."

"Kinda gonna keep happening if ya keep this up."

Thrilled to his core, Castiel doesn't need the words, he and Dean have transcended to a higher level than any humans ever, but he wants them. "Keep what up?"

"Y'know, fucking me into heaven."

Elation pricks every pore of Castiel's skin, let alone what's happening beneath the surface. He knows, has known this entire time, this is his future, his purpose, his life. All of that melts his brain, overwhelming the careful infrastructure established from years of pain and misuse. Now he's restored, stronger than ever, backed and braced by the love of his life, by Dean . 

It's peaceful, warm, comfortable, perfect. And that's exactly how Castiel's post-bliss brain let four words slip. Four words that are true and resolute, but too fast and too intense for now. 

"I love you, Dean."

Chapter Text

Dean's heart stopped. Or skipped a beat. Probably like 90 of them. But when the fickle organ gets back to work, it goes into overdrive, pumping so hard and loud that it might just explode and he is okay with that, because… it's Cas. And Cas loves him.

Unable to manage more than a hoarse whisper and even he hears the shakiness in the cracked but freaking honest words. "Love you, too."

A second ago, the Angel's sapphire eyes were soft and half closed, utter contentment written across his gorgeous face. Now his eyes are wide and somehow even brighter, thick lips moving wordlessly, like he wants to say something but can't. Dean can sympathize, this stud has him tongue-tied every two minutes.

Pushing up so they're eye-to-eye, Dean pulls on his figurative brave panties, "I mean it, Cas. Kinda knew it immediately, just… love at first sight's a fairytale, y'know? But I felt it here," pulling Cas' hand to his chest. 

And Dean's breath catches when Cas leans up and plants the softest kiss right there . That earthquaking voice shaking him to his bones, "This is a miracle, sweetheart, but not a fairytale."

Okay, that lump in Dean's throat in his throat is his tongue. And because once again, his body just passes out when the target of Cas' attention, Dean flounders. 

Pulling on the spare remnants of postcoital energy, Dean's fingers tremble as he cards into Cas' hair. His voice is raw and broken as he half-facetiously quips, "Had some insanely vivid dreams in my life. Kinda need to know if this is real or… a dream."

"Oh, my sweet love," Cas' deep voice destroys all of Dean's insecurities, "not even an endless dream could render you. My Dean," lips press giant Dean's throat and slowly trail down, "you are everything."

Okay, humans can only withstand so much sexual pleasure, right? But no one warned Dean about the sheer freaking impact from pure love! Having Cas' unfettered devotion on him is beyond comparison, and unexplainable. Dean needs to show Cas the same.

Looping a leg around Cas', Dean rolls them over. Sure, the thought flags his brain, that was a helluva lot smoother than real life, but he slaps it down, 'cause with him n' Cas together, anything is possible.

Nibbling across Cas' bronze chest, Dean's voice is hoarse and raw, "Freaking obsessed with this chest, babe." The growly response gives Dean the very best kind of goosebumps. Working across and down the body he knows could take down Hercules and Thanos without breaking a sweat, it's possible Dean may have squirmed a few times. Can't blame a man, though, 'cause Dean's in heaven and happily worshiping his own god. Add in the fact that he can feel Cas' cum in his ass, dripping down his thighs for the first time as he venerates his boyfriend, he's getting crazy desperate.

But Dean finally gets where he's aiming, licking across Cas' cock. The beast spasms beneath his lips and Dean doesn't need to be offered twice. Taking the huge cock down his throat may have his jaw aching already and that's a-okay 'cause he's gonna practice every freaking day. The hand knotted in his hair is just the perfect encouragement, amped up by the filthy praise from his Angel. Maybe Dean adds some extra wet slurping, he's aiming to paint a picture here. 

And it works. Suddenly choked and unable to so much as gag, Dean's face is against Cas'' rockin' groin and that cock is pounding his throat. Using his own hands to rub across Cas' thighs, Dean shudders at the stone like muscles flexing around him. 

When Cas releases his hair and Dean comes up for air, he's gasping and panting and freaking loves it. "You're wicked, babe!"

There's that devious smile, the one that has Dean's cock and ass dripping. Yup, and he wants more. Slapping the mattress in a frenzy, Dean's hunting for the lube, whimpering in relief when his fingers find the tube. Eyes on his lover, he works a nice layer over the trembling cock, loving how Cas watches him so blatantly, just ocean eyes searching his very soul. Dean thrives from attention, a hundred times more so from Cas' attention. He's already shaking in want and need and sheer elation as he straddles the stud.

Flashing his sultriest smile, he makes his own filthy promise, "Gonna show you what my legs were made for." Rising high and rocking back, he takes Cas in one long, deep drop. 

"Dean!"

His own name is pure fire to his blood, "Yeah, baby, good?" Setting his own pace, he's determined to destroy his already-tender ass over his boyfriend's insane cock. Huge hands roam his body, stroking and rubbing and driving Dean wild. His eyes roll so far back in pleasure that they drag his head back, too, arching over Cas. Catching his sweet spot, Dean's moaning longa and dirty, feeling the flash of pleasure from head-to-toe. 

"More, baby, keep riding me," those words created a fault line across the Mediterranean.

Wrestling his eyes open, Dean's instantly fueled by the sight below him. Cas' eyes blaze, thick lips parted, chest heaving right into an inhuman number of abs. Mumbling incoherently, Dean thinks he managed to say, "Fucking gorgeous," but the translation between English and fucked senseless is questionable. Keeping his own eyes on Cas', Dean leans back, tilting his pelvis and dropping his weight to sink over Cas' thighs. At this angle, every roll of hips has his sweet spot taking a fierce battering. It's nearly overwhelming, a constant barrage that has his vision whiting out. 

When Cas grabs his hips and pins him back further, Dean wails as the intensity liquefies his brain. Sure, he can hear Cas' voice raining praise and love and sweet, dirty things, but Dean can't find the buttons in his brain to work the teleprompter. Nope, he puts all focus on keeping his body moving, on keeping this massive cock pumping into him.

But he can't last, it's too much, so good, he needs to cum. Arching all the way up and forward, he feels Cas' gasp against his own lips as he steals a wet, bitey kiss.

"Fuck, Dean, the way you move!"

"All yours, Angel, just for you," was intended but it kinda ended in a scream. Cas yanks him back by his hair, other hand pinning his hips in place and for all that's perfect in this world, Cas fuck's up into him like an actual piston. Just driving that monster cock home, a full-on assault of the very best kind. 

Sheer pleasure never stops, just like Cas, and Dean's gone. Clenching around Cas, Dean grabs his own cock and manages two strokes and he's flying. Some noise escaped his throat, a fair mix of moans and pure screams as Dean cums, shaking and falling apart. But Cas is right there, roaring as he fills Dean up with molten lava, still bucking and keeping them both soaring.

When consciousness returns, Dean finds himself still on Cas' lap and that is just freaking awesome. Shit, he realizes he may have drooled a bit on a thick pec, uses his hand to swipe away the evidence. 

The movement has Cas stirring, sapphires peeking from beneath heavy-lids. "Sweetheart, you're… indescribable."

Chuckling against tawny skin, Dean nuzzles in, "Not so bad yourself."

Long fingers trail up Dean's thighs, sending a flurry of sensations, "I may have dozed off. Had a rather vivid dream."

"Yeah?" Dean squirms a bit, but leans in for a nibble at his boyfriend's jaw, "Gonna leave me hanging?"

"Mmm, no. I dreamt of you riding me just like this, with these gorgeous legs curled around me," those fingers drag and explore. "But you were wearing those assless chaps from the Rodeo, and a black resistol."

"Fuck! Oh Cas, baby, I want that!" Yeah, Dean shuddered as the image took up permanent residency in his mind. "Lemme be your cowboy."

Shoulda expected this, the stud growls and rears up, sinking teeth into Dean's neck. There's a savage snarl of, "Mine!"

Moaning into the claim, "Mark me up, Angel, show everyone who I belong to!" And nearly screams his lungs out when that bite depends and fuck if he doesn't feel it in his cock.

But there's no time to process how erotic it is, 'cause Cas flipped Dean to his belly and knelt behind him. Big hands spread Dean's ass cheeks, a finger runs across his puffy and sensitive rim. Then he's being tugged open, feeling his ass spread and Dean's already moaning into the mattress.

"You're so full, baby, just brimming with my cum," the words vibrate against Dean a moment before that insane tongue circles his rim. "My paint on the most beautiful canvas "

Yup, Dean's brain turns inside-out, sound tastes funny and light feels euphoric, reality has scrambled from the intensity that is Castiel freaking Novak. Dean could live like this forever.

The heavy petting slowly summers down, Cas wrapping his perfect body around Dean, spooning in a purely sweet way. After a few minutes of directing oxygen to the neglected portions of his body, Dean's brain gives an attempt at coherency. He mumbles, "Shower?"

"Mmm, no," Cas burrows into Dean's hair, "I want to keep you filthy, Dean, leaking my cum."

Eyes springing open and finding Cas' pure Alpha stare on him, Dean feels a bead of sweat run down his spine even as his cock gives a feeble kick. "You're freaking wicked, babe."

"You're inspirational."

"Love you, Cas."

"Forever, sweetheart."

Chapter Text

Waking to early morning light streaking through the open balcony doors, Castiel sighs in contentment and sinks back into the splendor of his lover asleep on his arm. In all his years, cuddling has never been a comfortable act. Hell, touch beyond sexual rarely was. A renaissance has begun, all thanks to the pure sunshine that is Dean Winchester. The Big Bang pales in comparison to the new properties and possibilities brought by this perfect man.

His physiology, however, revels. Carefully slipping his arm from beneath Dean, Castiel aims to keep hiskver comfortable. 

But Dean stirs, sweet accent grumbling out, "Come back to bed."

Smiling at his adorable boyfriend, Castiel drops a soft kiss to his golden forehead, "Soon, sweetheart."

"Fine, but I'm taking your pillow," and Dean's long arm drags the lump of down and satin to his face, burrowing in with a sigh. Beautiful. 

Base human needs taken care of, Castiel steps into the shower. Wanting to wash away the remnants of the styling products from the night before, his mind floats as he cleanses himself. And also like the night before, he can feel Dean's thoughts on him.

His eyes open and find Dean leaning a hip against the vanity, long body on display. But Dean's eyes are heated, predatory and locked onto Castiel. Unable to move a muscle, Castiel watches in awe as that delicious man stalks him, each stride swinging his hips over legs bowed like perfect rainbows. And he doesn't stop until he's crowding Castiel against the marble wall, bracing a hand on either side of Castiel's hips, leaning in to nip at his ear.

The cool wall against his back is a complete juxtaposition of the fiery man at his front, the sensations leave Castiel heaving. Oh, but Dean's teeth and roaming hands add layers of heady bliss. 

"New rule, Cas."

Castiel manages a questioning hum.

"No showering without me. Like, ever," teeth sink into his shoulder.

Groaning with the painful pleasure Dean's mouth brings, Castiel grips Dean's neck and pins him close, "Deal, sweetheart."

"Good. 'Cause I really, really wanna get you all slippery and sudsy."

And Dean does exactly that, grabbing the loofah and lathering up with one hand. The other trailing just behind, running through the thick bodywash. Every touch is incredible, calming and arousing at the same time, Castiel loves every moment, leaning back and riding the high his perfect lover brings. 

"My big stud likes this, huh?" 

"Very much," but his eyes fly open when fingers wrap around his cock, "Dean!"

"Let me?"

Castiel growls out, "Anything," even as he bucks against Dean's grip. Restraint must be maintained but it's so fucking hard! That much harder when Dean's fingers tug at his balls, kneading and rolling, slipping behind and rubbing across his rim. Oh, Castiel is more than happy to offer everything to his man. Without a word, he goes with his desire and turns to the wall, resting his head against his forearms and spreading his hips.

Dean let's put a delicious moan and rubs across Castiel's side and the other hand slips down his ass, running over his hole. Those fingers are so clever, circling, prodding, teasing, but when one presses in, everything is amplified. That finger strokes and curls, catching right across his prostate and Castiel's knees nearly gave out. It has been way too long since he felt that incredible bundle of nerves and now he's overwhelmed. Doubly so when a second finger prods in, the slight stretch is exquisite and has him moaning against the wall. Then what could only be Dean's tongue circles his fingers buried in deep, and the Angel's pushing back, craving more.

A blissful minute of that mind-numbing attention and the fingers disappear. Before he can complain, the beauty spins him and the sight of this man on his knees is incredible. Bright eyes hold his as lips wrap around his cock, swallowing inch-by-inch until Dean's throat is bulging and he's barely holding back from cumming. But it gets even better, somehow he's blessed by this universe and more aptly, this enjgma. Dean rewets his fingers with bubbles and slides them back to his hole, curling in. The double-ministration is stupefying and the Angel's beast nearly escapes. 

A third finger joins the party, dancing over his sweet spot, matching the rhythm of Dean's head bobbing over his cock. Each tap is in rhythm with a long, deep draw, a flick of tongue, even the beauty humming against his throbbing flesh. It's the most intense sensation he has ever felt.

"Baby, so good, you make me feel so good," he's babbling, and needs an anchor. Grabbing soft, golden hair for dear life seems to amp up his man. Dean's mouth races and is hand pistons, battering Castiel's sweet spot and he's seeing stars. Then something happens with that hand, he feels a stretch and incredible pressure, every motion has his blood on fire. When emerald eyes pop open and stare up at him, mouth full, fingers working miracles, Castiel's gone. Shouting as he thrashes, his hips buck as he tries to force his entire body down this vacuum of a throat, while also clenching because he needs that hand in his ass. Castiel explodes, copious amounts of cum pushed and pulled out simultaneously, feeding his lover.

He can't see. Can't hear, can barely breathe, just heaving. When he comes to full awareness, he's dry and a towel is wrapped around his waist, leaning against the counter as Dean brushes his teeth.

"I think I blacked out."

The sweet man laughs softly and pokes him, rinsing his mouth before adding, "Yeah ya did."

Circling Dean now, pressing close, Castiel kisses along broad shoulders, "Fair is only fair."

"Oh, yeah? Whatcha got in mind, hot stuff?"

Going with his absolute wants, Castiel grabs Dean, hauling him over his shoulder, grinning at the burst of laughter, "Think I'm going to have breakfast in bed."

Dean's laugh cuts off with a sensual moan, then a shudder, "Room service?"

"Mmm, no. Cake."

Chapter Text

Every joint and muscle in Dean's body is as relaxed as if he just came out of a 90-minute deep tissue massage. Though to be fair, he kinda did… the things Cas' can do.

Running fingers down Cas' crazy abs, Dean finds some control of his own tongue, "Missed breakfast, n' I'm betting brunch is almost over."

"Mmhmm, one of us should really get out of bed."

Dean manages to lift his head long enough to tap his nose, "Nose goes."

Yeah, the big stud chuckled and fuck that sound is wild, Dean squirms over him just a bit. Then totally does when he hears, "Only for you, sweetheart."

There's a blush now, yup, just a full bloom, so he aims for cheeky, "'Cause you love me."

"Completely." And the gorgeous angel climbs his fine ass out of bed. 

Yeah, Dean watches and holes, can't blame a man for appreciating his hottie boyfriend. His limbs are looser than a jellyfish's tentacles drifting in the current. Okay, gross, but Dean gives himself a pass, he's riding the high that is finally having his stud to himself. And somehow managed to get himself seated and leaning against the headboard.

Cas is back with a room service menu, sliding in right next to Dean, "What would you like?"

Licking his lips, Dean hedges.

"Baby, we're officially off-work, pick what you truly want."

"You're the best, Cas," he gulps as his heart shimmies. Reading the fancy print over Cas' shoulder, he knows just what. "Bananas foster French toast, with whipped cream. Bacon, double bacon. Loaded hash browns. And… make it triple bacon."

"Dean, that sounds perfect."

"Yeah? Not gonna shame me?" Sure, he knows Cas won't, but it's just still one of those things that any model will be kinda sensitive about.

"No, never. What I will do," those thick lips ghost his cheek, "is have the exact same thing."

"Hell yeah!"

Cas grabs the in-room phone, says some really sexy French words and 20 minutes later they have some seriously heavenly food spread out on the bed. Again feeling completely pampered and cherished, Dean is nestled between Cas' huge thighs, head against his shoulder. And his lover hand-feeds him every single bite. It's seriously the best. 

Which led to Dean blurting out, "I want this every day, Cas."

Yeah, he heard the sharp inhale, felt it against his back, "Me, too."

"Can," Dean's body betrays him, his tongue ranging up. But he's strong, has to be, willing the muscle to freaking obey. "Can we?"

"Yes."

That single word rocks Dean, he's not breathing again, the elation is more important than oxygen. And he's moving, rolling and twisting, climbing up to straddle Cas now, "Just that simple?"

Cas' sapphires are intense as always, gorgeous, "It can be. We can have anything we want, together, always."

"Come home with me?"

"Dean… yes, of course yes!"

"Fuck, babe," Dean wraps around Cas' neck, fusing their lips together. His angel tastes of sweet syrup and whipped cream and that spicy flavor that is pure Castiel. The very thought of Cas in his bed, in their bed, every night and every morning, them sharing every moment and just being there , it wrings every emotion right from Dean's soul. His tears rise and that's a-okay because he is so freaking happy. 

When Cas murmurs sweet words and kisses the trails of tears, Dean nearly sobs. This is his everything, Cas' n' Dean, together. Burying his face in Cas' neck, he stays right there, cocooned by the man he loves.

By the time Dean comes to a functional level, "Thanks, Cas."

Those long fingers just rub circles along his back, voice so deep Dean feels it in his toes. "No, my love, thank you. You've made me happier every moment of these few days than I have ever been."

There's that wild ride again, his heart now on a carousel, spinning and whirling and rising up again. Dean presses his lips against Cas' steady pulsepoint, "Same. But y'know what?"

"Tell me."

"I'm a hundred percent certain it's only gonna get better."

Cas tugs him back for a sweet kiss, that gummy grin just so freaking cute, "How couldn't it? You're perfect, Dean."

Feeling playful because he's still flooded with literally all the good emotions, "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

"Y'mean you think I'm hot?"

"Exquisite," those fingers take on a new pattern.

"And sexy?"

"Pure ecstacy."

Sure, maybe Dean's hips grind a bit, his boyfriend is irresistible. Nuzzling at Cas' wickedly stubbled cheek, "And you like how I make you feel."

"Nothing compares," it's a sexy snarl, "to the bliss you bring me."

"Guess I should keep you feeling it, huh? Feeling me ," and Dean goes wild. Tearing at Cas' hair as he chews those thick lips, rocking against this Adonis body, Dean makes his demands. His stud meets him for every touch, so fierce and strong, if Dean wasn't already boiling over with his frenzy, he'd just melt under the intensity.

There are too many dishes on the bed and Dean's not willing to take the time to clear it. Nope, he uncurls from Cas' lap and tugs his lover up with him, one hand snaking the lube from the nightstand. Walking backwards just to keep Cas' touching him, Dean gets them into the walk-in closet. Finding the dressing bench by a feeling game, he yanks Cas' back for a hot second, just long enough to wink and blow a kiss. Dean whirls around, bending over the tufted dressing bench. 

Yeah, Cas' gets it right away, groaning and palming Dean's ass, "You're pure inspiration."

Staring into the full-length mirror in front of him, Dean forces himself to breathe, "Wanna watch you fuck me, Cas."

It's one thing to feel those huge hands and know what Cas is doing, but to actually see Cas' messy hair and brilliant eyes while that wicked tongue takes Dean apart, mic drop. Both the physical and optical sensations are staggering, Dean tips forward. But a huge hand grabs his hip, tugging up and back onto Cas' mouth, holding Dean right where he wants him.

Bucking back, Dean's eyes are watering but he refuses to blink, can't look away. He watches every muscle pulse as Cas slowly stands up; watches him slick up his cock; heaves a breathe when Cas fills him in one fast and hard thrust. Cas doesn't look away, either, just stares into his soul while fucking Dean into orbit. When the stud drags him up, lips wrapping over that sweetly painful mark and bites again, while stroking Dean's weeping cock, that's it, he's gone. Shouting through the sensory overload, Dean writhes under Cas' hands, watching himself cum just before Cas claims him from inside. Only then does Dean blink, his eyelids so heavy now that they just stay closed as the lovers collapse against one another 

Minutes later, Dean shivers as a bead of sweat travels down his spine, raised from the inferno that is Cas. He mangled some words, but he tries, "Cas?"

There's a groaned affirmative.

"Mirrors are gonna be a thing… like, forever."

That laugh has more beads of sweat following the same path, "In every room."

"Fuck yeah." But he whines when Cas pulls his big cock out, leaving Dean a dripping and happy mess. 

"Shower, sweetheart."

"I don't wanna. Let's go back to bed."

Cas tugs him up despite the half-hearted complaints, "We will. But it's nearly checkout time. Let's go back to the resort."

"Fine," Dean's pouty 'cause he just wants to go all koala around this sexy beast, "but we're taking the gift basket and then we're staying in bed."

"You can bet your ass we are."

"Ooh, feisty Angel."

A sharp nip to his neck and Dean's following Cas right back to the shower. Fuck, how is this real life?

Chapter Text

The distance between the Casino and the resort is short, a brief walk, but the interruption of their time has Castiel on edge. Oh, the sheer bliss of the past 12 hours has been the highlight of his life, every moment creating a new eternal memory. Disruptions to the ever-growing happiness were difficult enough to navigate before last night; triply hard now. Castiel pulls on all of his self-control to get Dean and himself semi-dressed and moderately presentable. It was no easy feat given how inspiring Dean is, and the man’s hands never stop. Perhaps it took a threat of putting Dean over his knee to get the ray of mischievous sunshine to behave… but that lasted only seconds. The beach cowboy had wiggled his delicate eyebrows and licked his lips, demanding to know what would happen next. Perhaps Castiel’s fingers had twitched and his cock throbbed, but somehow he managed to get them out of the hotel. 

In the resort’s elevator, the heat again rises. Dean turns his magnificent body and wraps around Castiel’s side, licking his neck. His entire body hums with need as they stride down the hallway, his mind coursing with the enacted scenes from the night before. 

Dean must be on the same reminiscent path, his cheeks pinken, “Kinda loved dragging my sexy stud around by his tie.”

“And I,” pushing into the room and yanking Dean to an inch from his lips, “love hearing you scream.”

His eyes track every expression, every movement across Dean’s delicious face. Noting how those emeralds glow, lashes flutter, lips tremble as the lovely blush spreads. Yes, this is heaven, Castiel will happily spend the rest of his life loving this perfect creature. For now, he will worship him in bed.

The sun peaked and was settling across the sea by the time either man was willing to allow the other out of arm’s reach, save for a dash to the bathroom or a search for water or more lube. Castiel is certain he now knows Dean’s body as exactly and intimately as his own. And vice versa, as this beauty has grown as bold as he is beautiful. Perfect.

“Cas?”

Eyes closed, Castiel is tracing Dean’s spine as his lover sprawls over his chest, “Hmm?”

“Love you.”

Grinning for the millionth time in just a few, glorious days, Castiel presses a kiss into Dean’s hair, “To my soul, Dean.”

The sigh against his chest is sweet and soft, followed by, “I kinda wanna be selfish.”

“Sweetheart, anything you want, I want, too.”

“Fuck, you’re just perfect, Angel,” the golden man lifts to pepper kisses across Castiel’s cheeks. “Let’s go on another date.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. Believe me, I don’t wanna get out of bed. Or for any of this godliness to be covered up,” strong fingers trail Castiel’s body. “But I kinda want the whole world to know we’re together. That I’m all yours. Only yours.”

Castiel knew from the first moment that Dean was nothing like any former partner, that what they have is special, sacred, profound. Yet to feel it, that desire, this love, it's incomprehensible. Rubbing Dean’s cheek, “And I’m yours, always.”

They’re quiet for a long, blessed moment, just gazing and reading one another’s soul. With a sweet kiss, Dean arches up and uncurls, towing Castiel with him. “Get dressed, boyfriend. And make it something really freaking sexy. I wanna see how long I can resist peeling your clothes off.”

A surprised laugh escapes, Castiel confessing now, “That’s exactly what I’ve fought since the moment I saw you.”

“Yeah, but you have this wickedly strong self-control. Me, I’m impulsive, my body does what it wants.”

Unable to resist, Castiel rubs a thumb across Dean’s lips, “Mmm, no, your body does what I want.”

“Fuck… yeah, Cas. Anything you want.”

Relishing the sharp gasp from his lover, “Perfect. Now, where are we going?”

“Uh… for what?”

Castiel raises a brow and smirks.

“Oh! Right. Fuck, you melt my brain.”

“No,” Castiel is a willing victim to his own desires yet again, “I’m Icarus and you’re the Sun.”

Eyes the very color of life itself slowly blink, Dean’s voice is low and rough, “Icarus was a wuss with crappy wings. You’re my Angel.”

Moved in ways Castiel cannot yet comprehend, he brushes a kiss across Dean’s lips, “Mmhmm, you’re right, your Angel. And the heat from you, from my sunshine, doesn’t melt me. You make me stronger.”

“Cas… kiss me.”

Deep and invading, swallowing the sweetest breath and soaring on the high brought by Dean, nothing compares. There is hope here, open horizons bound to be filled with so much love. Feeling his own emotions catching up, Castiel’s breath catches, pausing to gasp against Dean’s cheek.

“Every day, babe?”

“For the rest of our life, Dean.”

Several minutes pass as they both settle, both unwilling to allow more than a foot of distance between them, nor more than seconds without touching in some manner. Dean wants to do something on the beach, near the water, which Castiel is more than happy to oblige. Quickly deciding on his outfit, Castiel dresses in front of the mirror while Dean perches on the dresser, his glorious body on display and utterly distracting. 

“You’re sexy as hell, stud.”

Winking at his lover, Castiel dons a sleeveless dark purple maxi top, buttonless, open to drape across his matching shorts. The subtle silver stars will catch any ambient light and flicker, a rather audacious and thrilling style. But Castiel feels emboldened by his boyfriend, happy to branch out of the classic and subdued. Now he wants expression.

Stuffing water bottles, towels and a throw blanket into a tote bag, they're hand-in-hand as they make it to Dean’s room. The beauty slips on a red thong that the Angel immediately wants to chew off. Then he tugs on a gold romper, just as snug and tantalizing as the black one from the other night. But this color is so bold, glistening like it’s actually wet and Castiel is actively preventing himself from swallowing his tongue. Radiating warmth and beauty and sheer vitality, long limbs bare. A long black chain adorning Dean’s throat, hanging between those firm pecs, and a black metallic chain is looped low over that slender waist, tail end just begging to be tugged.

Dean gives a twirl, voice flirty and teasing, “Whatcha think, hot stuff?”

Tamping down his groan, Castiel loses the battle with moderating his tone, it’s a growl, “I’m incredibly tempted to bend you over the dresser, tear a hole through your shorts and fuck you until you pass out.”

Huge emerald eyes blink as Dean shudders, flicking a pink tongue across lips that are still puffy from Castiel’s teeth, “Just… holy fuck, Cas!”

“Mmhmm,” he circles his partner, hands sliding over the slick fabric, “you’re incredibly tempting.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Nipping at his mark on the golden neck, Castiel whispers, “It’s going to happen. But later. For now, this vision of perfection is joining me for a date.”

Dean pouts now, "You're a tease."

With a slightly smug laugh, Castiel grabs the chain and tows Dean into the hotel hallway, then links their hands as they head to the lobby. Minutes later, they're taking a car service to a beach Castiel had visited many years ago. The ride is smooth, comfortable with Dean nestled against his side. They're quiet as they just enjoy one another, the windows open and gracing them with the sea breeze.

As soon as the driver halts the car, Dean is climbing out and eagerly reaching for Castiel, "Where we at, babe?"

Nodding towards the sandy sidewalk, "This is a gen pop beach, more of an anything goes stretch."

"Cas," Dean's eyes grow wide, "do you mean… a nude beach?"

Cracking in laughter for just a moment, utterly tickled by his adorable partner, Castiel kisses that golden hand, "No, baby. I meant more, well, this," pointing towards the active beachfront.

There are several large bonfires with groups of raucous people circling each; a couple volleyball nets with leaping participants stand out amongst various lawn games; a bar and snack shop more reminiscent of the Gulf. And the entire stretch is lined with tiki torches, creating a brazen path flickering against the night sky and dark, calm waves.

"This is awesome!" Dean's excited now, that lovely smile blooming, then a sheepish tone takes over, "Not that I'd mind a nude one, per se. But I also don't wanna get arrested for lewd acts and babe, if your clothes come off, I won't even attempt to control myself."

"You, my love," kissing Dean's nose, "are adorable."

"Mmhmm, knew Mr. Smarty Pants would get the accent right."

Simultaneously elated and relaxed, Castiel can't restrain his happiness as the explore the beach. This is so obviously Dean's type of environment, the beauty appears completely at ease as they wander. When his boyfriend points out a set of free boards, Castiel is thrilled to be challenged to a game of bean bags. Sure, they razz one another, but quickly learn that their aiming skills are evenly matched. Calling a tie, they roam further. Butting into a round of horseshoes, Dean is gregarious and quickly has the locals laughing. Once again, they tie.

Pausing their games for refreshments, they hit up the tiki shack. Neither men order alcoholic drinks, which seems to relieve Dean. Castiel is uncertain whether to call it out or not; finally deciding to just place a chaste kiss on Dean's cheek. A shoulder bump in response, they don't need words.

Invigorated by the ambient energy of the crowd, Castiel takes the initiative and finds a volleyball game to interrupt. Again taking opposite sides, both men are grinning as they try to outscore one another. Sure, Dean is taller and has longer arms, but Castiel has thighs on his side. Ha. His tears of honing strength in his legs gives him powerful leaps. Spiking a ball right past Dean for the final point, Castiel knows he's got the gummy grin again.

Dean swaggers over with narrowed eyes, "Ain't fair."

"Mmm, the points would indicate otherwise."

The lovely man steps into his sandals, "A chivalrous boyfriend would a let me win."

Deadpan now, "And why would I do that?"

That shy, flirty enigma takes over again; Dean lowers his chin, looking up through his lashes and fuck it all, Castiel would give him anything and everything… Dean toys with Castiel's shirt, "You're supposed to be wooing me."

Resisting the urge to give in entirely, Castiel counters with, "Perhaps I prefer wowing you."

"Sure, but you always do. Like literally every second, it's you, Cas."

Touched, the Angel must respond, but Dean keeps going.

"Besides, you cheated."

Gasping in mock horror, "One does not simply cheat at volleyball."

"Uh huh, 'cause everytime you jumped it crouches it just fucking exist, these," running a golden hand down Castiel's thigh, "just bulge and flex. Which makes me go all blue screen, my brain just slips on all the drool and forgets to, y'know, anything ."

"Dean," he has nothing else to say, he's just touched and moved and aroused at the same time.

Oh, he sees the shudder, will never tire of seeing that exquisite reaction to how Castiel says his boyfriend's name. It's impossible to not load those four beautiful letters with every deserves emotion and thought.

"Fuck," the beauty heals his jaw and peppers sweet kisses across Castiel's cheek. "Know you won n' all, but can I choose next? Please?"

"Anything, sweetheart."

"You're awesome, Cas. Can we do something just us now? I know I wanted to show off what we've got, but now… the whole world could disappear and I'd be a-okay with it."

Taking his own much-needed taste of Dean's lips, "I fully agree. Let's go, baby."

Castiel leads them further down the beach, them walking barefoot at the surf's edge. Ankles lapped by the low tide stretches out, it takes long and blissful minutes before Castiel deems a spot perfect. The bonfires and town lights are distant now, their spot close to a craggy cliff.

Flicking out the blanket, Castiel quickly has them settled on their backs. The rolled towels cushion his head, and his arm cushions his golden lover. The breeze keeps a faint mist blowing over them, utterly refreshing.

"Look up, sweetheart."

They settle in, just giving their senses over to nature and one another, eyes scouring the brilliant cosmos. 

After a while, Dean makes a soft, appreciative sound, "Wow… stars look so different here."

"Mmhmm. I love stargazing, always have."

"Sometimes I forget that there's more up there. The water always catches my eye, I stay distracted. Well, before you."

"You're so sweet."

"Mean it, Cas. Hand to god here, you're all I think about."

Castiel presses a kiss into Dean's hair, "I love you, Dean. And I can honestly say that I've become full-fledged obsessed with you."

Dean's soft laugh is just beautiful as his long body rolls to his side, curled around Castiel. "Swear you n' me share some part of our brains. I, uh, yesterday I told my brother that I'm obsessed with loving you."

Yet another wave of radiance courses Castiel's body, pure warmth and his heart relishes the declaration. Linking his fingers over Dean's, Castiel sighs, "I can feel you in my soul."

The next words are low and quiet, but clear and heavenly, "You have a seriously gorgeous soul."

Needing this, Castiel tugs Dean up, pressing in for a soft, emotion-ridden kiss, squeezing his eyes to keep a well of happy years at bay. He cannot yet speak, too awash in joy and the high brought by Dean's adoration. 

His lover is brave again, meeting his eyes and asking, "We're gonna live together, right? Not just… visiting."

Choking out a response takes incredible effort, Castiel's mind is floating in happiness and unable to pull itself together. "Everything, Dean. I want you, to be with you."

"Fuck, same, babe. Cards on the table here," that talented tongue flicks across incredible lips, "I've never lived with someone. Other than relatives. Might be that I have habits that are gonna drive you nuts."

A grin rises even as Castiel appreciates the effort it took his boyfriend to admit his thoughts, "So do I."

"Nah, you're perfect. But me… I'm not a slob or anything. I keep my stuff orderly, y'know? But I seriously hate doing some house stuff. And I get lazy sometimes and just wanna bum around all day. Some might say I get tunnel-vision when I work on my car, but they're just dramatic."

"Dean, I can't tell you how much I look forward to learning every habit."

"Sure, you say that now, but what happens when you see how many records I've got, or how much beef jerky I stash around the house?"

"Hmm, I suppose I'll just have to continue loving you," tracing Dean's cheek, "I get cranky when my workout is interrupted. I buy too much produce at farmers market's and never use it. I hate doing laundry. And I watch 'an irrational' amount of nature documentaries."

"Ha! This is gonna work, isn't it? Swear I'm not doubting us at all, I just don't wanna, y'know…"

"More than work, baby, we balance one another."

Dean's long arms wrap tight, they cling to one another is a glorious sharing of love and hope. Several buoyant minutes later, Dean again bares himself, "I've never been in love. Never had an actual partner, either. I mean, yeah, I've dated and hooked up and shit, but never anything like us."

Awestruck at yet another exclusive honor from this perfect creature, Castiel sits up, pulling Dean to straddle his lap. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Oh, the man blushes and ducks his head for a moment, "Maybe I won't be any good at it, but I'm gonna try, Cas."

"Dean, hey, look at me. You're incredible, wonderful. What we have is brand-new and perfect. I'm honored to be your boyfriend. And beyond excited for our future."

"Yeah? Wait, no, I know you mean it. I'm just… fuck, ignore me, dunno where the insecure babbling came from."

Wrapping his enigma close, Castiel breathes in the scent of Dean, "It's okay. And I do. But please don't ever feel you can't say something to me. I want to know everything."

And his heart thumps when he hears a slight sniffle, Dean's voice laden with emotion, "Really love you, Cas."

Speaking from his heart and soul, Castiel shares his truth, "Until the stars burn out, beloved."

Chapter Text

Warm, safe, comfortable. Held. Cocooned. Hibernation. That’s the one. Dean’s sleepy brain slowly acclimates to being awake, though he sure as hell ain’t moving. Nope, he’s staying  just like this, spooned by his Angel and pinned close by some seriously thick arms. Yup, this is gonna be a thing forever .

And maybe it actually will be. They had the talk last night and Dean believes everything Cas said without a single doubt. But it’s also like a dream. The Dream . How else could Dean Winchester end up with this perfect man? Maybe all the bad mojo and shitty luck for the first 30 years has finally worn out and miracles occur. Wouldn’t that–.

That sexy grumble shivers him to his core, “Dean.”

“Hey babe.”

“Stop.”

Dean blinks at the window, mind racing now, “What?”

“Stop thinking. I can hear you.”

Sure, a smile rises ‘cause this stud is so freaking awesome. Nestling back and closer to Cas, he quips, “Usually I get in trouble for not thinking.”

“Mmm, no. You’re spiraling.”

“Fuck, you’re just the best. Yeah, but not in a bad way. Just… thinking.”

“Exactly,” hot lips brush his ear, “stop.”

“So bossy, Cas.”

“Mmhmm. I’m incredibly comfortable. Don’t move.”

Sighing in sheer happiness, Dean gives up on the brain and focuses on the snuggle. With that comfort and security of Cas being right here, Dean drifts off and floats through some pretty perfect dreams. It’s late evening, he and Cas are cuddled on the hammock watching the sunset over the water. A steady breeze keeps the swing swaying, there’s music quietly rocking from the Bluetooth speaker, and for all Dean knows, they are the only two people in the entire world. Nothing else matters, just them. Cas nuzzles Dean’s neck, licking around that seriously hot mark, the one that shows the whole world that Dean is his. Grabbing hold of Cas’ huge hand, Dean kisses the ring he slid onto a long finger just hours before, his own claim on Cas. Then those insane hands slide across Dean’s chest, tracing and feeling so freaking good …  and real. 

With a gasp, Dean arches off the bed, pressing himself closer to Cas’ exploring mouth even as he grasps into that insanely hot bedhead.

“I couldn’t resist,” Cas drags his teeth over a nipple, “you make me so hungry .”

“Fuck, Cas! More, baby, please!”

The Angel growls a response and gets right to devouring Dean. Every nerve is singing in happiness, every muscle fluctuating between lax and coiled tight. In minutes, Dean’s fighting to hold off cumming as his sexy stud opens him with that absolutely wicked tongue. Some errant thought whispers from the grey matter, Dean really should measure Cas’ tongue, ‘cause it ain’t normal just how far Cas gets inside him. It’s the fucking best.

When Cas groans right against his ass, Dean curses and nearly falls right over that edge. Fuck, Dean needs this. Pushing up, he rotates them until Cas is on his back. Dean straddles that gorgeous face, grinding his ass right onto that telescoping tongue. Shuddering in absolute pleasure, Dean rides him hard, bucking and rolling like a man possessed. When Cas slides huge fingers into his hole, Dean's a piston firing over him.

Forcing his eyes open long enough to catch sight of the lube, Dean lunges and grabs it off the floor. Shaking it only gets a few droplets. Tossing it aside, desperation grows as he hunts down another bottle. Scrambling through the case, he holds up a fresh tube like a trophy, "Yasss!"

"I've never seen a human move so fast," yeah, Cas is laughing, but that's a-okay 'cause it's that fiery stud who got Dean all worked up. 

Crawling onto the bed, Dean nips at his lover's lips, "Could be I find you inspiring ."

"Mmhmm, I'm familiar with the concept," the Angel nips back, then hooks a finger between Dean's teeth. Dragging Dean down with a growl of, "Show me."

Oh hell yeah! Dean's already grinning as he gets a mouthful of Cas' massive cock. Feeling the beast twitch and throb against his tongue, bliss. He suckles and slurps, painting a whole picture for his sexy boyfriend. And since he's already down here, Dean rolls Cas' balls, giving a tug that has the Angel groaning and leaking in Dean's mouth. Then bucking when Dean licks across Cas' hole, teasing the puckered flesh while hitching Cas' iron-hard thighs up high. Now, Dean's just a man and doesn't have the four-foot long tongue that this deity has, but what he does have is determination and a whole lotta love. He goes to town, giving as good as he got. Judging by the hand in his hair and the filthy praise Cas rains on him, Dean's doing something right.

"More, baby, use your fingers."

Working the lid with one hand, Dean's squirming with excitement as he lubes up. Glancing up, he gets trapped by Cas' ocean eyes, doesn't so much as blink while slipping two fingers in. Fuck, seeing Cas' chest heave and those pretty lips spread with a deep groan, Dean could drown in the expressions. But he's got a freaking awesome job to do, and and Dean Winchester doesn't half-ass anything. Ha!

When he curls and rubs across Cas' sweet spot, the stud drops his head back and Dean can finally blink. Allowing himself a single lick around the spread rim, he gets right back to inhaling Cas' cock. Feeling, seeing, hearing Cas' falling apart is just the sweetest stroke and Dean is here for it.

And he wants more. He needs more. Shit, will Cas… Dean just goes for it. Lifting off Cas' cock with a pop, he meets those sapphires and slicks up his own cock. Yeah, maybe he's nervous but when Cas smirks and stretches out, arms above his head on the mattress, insanely built body all laid out… Dean bites his own tongue.

Palming himself as he ogles this deity, Dean's already panting, shuddering. "Really wanna be inside you, Cas."

"All yours, sweetheart."

Yup, that is just the best response he coulda hoped for. That lights a fire in Dean, one he knows can only be quenched by this stud. Sliding right over the hottest body to exist, Dean's mouth is hot and fervent, needing to taste Cas. Those big hands race up his back, down his sides, grabbing his hips. Dean takes the prompt and nudges right in. And immediately has to pause, gasping, eyes wide as he tries to control his body. 

Sure, he knew this was gonna be intense. Going bare, condomless for the first time is one thing, one really awesome thing. But in Cas? It's like expecting a fire and getting a supernova. Yup, Dean might not survive but this is the best possible way to go out.

Rolling his hips, Dean slowly works his cock in, heaving at the velvety clench of Cas' ass around him. Even as his vision whites out yet again, Dean gasps against Cas' shoulder, "You feel… oh, fuck, Cas, you feel like heaven!" With a sharp can't, he finds that sweet spot and is rewarded with Cas' earthquaklng groan. Fuck yeah.

When Cas pushes up, Dean whimpers for a hot second. But it gets even better, 'cause his fine ass boyfriend rolls onto his hands and knees, tossing and arches brow that is pure command at Dean, "Fuck me."

"Fire, Cas," Dean's tongue ties but he gets right to it. Sinking right back in, Dean's moaning like a fiend. Every thrust is met by Cas' insanely perfect body, that wickedly stroking back flexing with each motion and it's absolutely hypnotizing. 

Hands on Cas' ass, Dean can't resist tugging, has to see… watching his cock stuffing and tugging, Dean snaps. All control is gone, his body takes over as he thrashes, his cock smashing against Cas' sweet spot with nearly every thrust. The stud is as vocal as ever, each sound just spurs Dean on.

Fuck, he can't last, there's no way to survive this. Grasping Cas' shoulders, pulling him up so their sweaty, heaving bodies are flush, Dean just presses his lips to Cas' throat, can't do more than that. But his hand sure can, finding Cas' huge cock and stroking the dripping beast. It's sloppy and not up to par of what Dean wants for his stud, but it's all he can do. Not that Cas seems to mind one bit, 'cause that long arm snags Dean's neck, pinning him closer still. That's it, Dean's gone, pumping blindly through his orgasm, and feeling Cas pour over his hand is the last conscious thought he has. 

Something nudges against his lips, Dean moves on pure muscle memory. And chokes. Water, it's water. When his eyes blink for the 17th time, he can kinda see. Cas is holding a water bottle to his mouth, voice all rumbly and gorgeous, "Take a sip, baby."

Yeah, okay, Dean can rely on autonomic processes now, letting the water slide down his throat. Shit, that feels great. Eagerly gulping now, he satiates the sudden Sahara in his throat. Finally dropping back, he can't stop the huge, ridiculous grin that stretches his cheeks . He's feeling so awesome 

"Cas…"

"Dean."

"Really love you."

"Mmm, always."

A soul-deep sigh courses his body as he snuggles right between Cas' arms, "Gonna need a solid… week of sleep."

"Sleep, my love. I'll watch over you."

Yup, as is the new norm, Dean falls asleep with a smile on his lips.

Chapter Text

For every button Castiel manages to secure, Dean's nimble fingers quickly unfasten them. When a golden hand slides across his abdomen, Castiel grabs it for a nip, "Behave."

"I don't wanna," the adorable mumble tickles him, "Let's call in sick and just stay naked."

"You are actual Temptation, Dean."

"Yeah? I seem to remember a certain someone calling me cake ," the beauty licks Castiel's lips, "Got a sweet tooth, dontcha?"

"I do and you're delicious," Castiel must gather some restraint, but he seems to have lost every tether over the past two days. 

"That's my sexy boyfriend. C'mon, lose the clothes."

Feeling his cock taking notice, Castiel must quell the beast for both their sakes, "Dean, if I undress, the rest of the day will be spent with you on your knees, my cock in your mouth. No breaks, no food or water, only my cock feeding you."

Ah there it is, the stunning man pauses and blinks, eyes wide and face flushed. But Dean is ever so bold, "I'm game."

" Dean ."

"Yeah, yeah, don't gotta growl at me," the cowboy pouts. Then huffs. Finally just mumbling while pulling on shorts and a tee. "Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"Maybe when we get home, we could do that?'

A line of sheer desire races from head-to-toe-to-cock as Castiel envisions the scene yet again. Denying his itching fingers, he raises a brow, "Perhaps. If you behave."

The lovely man scoffs, "Me? I'm gonna be Mr. Manners. It's you I'm worried about."

"How so?"

"See, now that you got a taste of this cake–."

"A smorgasbord."

"Yup, exactly, bet you're addicted to me."

"It's possible."

"Mmhmm. And I'm used to fighting addiction and impulse. Sure, maybe I'm not great at it, but I've got experience . You, big boy, you're gonna be craving a hit, just a nibble. But if I've gotta behave, so do you."

Narrowing his eyes on the ridiculously perfect brat, Castiel knows his lover is right. But it's a challenge that, whoever wins, brings the sweetest rewards. "Game on, Winchester."

"Atta boy, hot stuff. Damn, I'm really racking up the wins this week."

Finding Bahama boat shoes, Castiel teases back, "No, my memory indicates I won."

Crooning now, that husky drawl is just beautiful, "Damn, they say memory is the first thing to go wh– ha!"

Swatting his lover, Castiel then grabs and tugs in for a crushing hug, "This doesn't count. You're stunning, sweetheart."

"Same, babe. Drop dead gorgeous," those plush lips part for Castiel's tongue. 

"I love you, Dean."

"Love you."

A few casual minutes are spent styling his hair, with Dean shyly offering to try something new with Castiel's. Not that the Angel would ever truly deny his lover something, but he is moved to his very core by the offer. Those clever fingers now have his hair swept to one side and up, giving a rakish and just slightly wild appearance. Castiel loves it.

They head to Dean's room so the beauty can swap out for a fresh outfit. Of course, the alluring paragon puts on a show as he strips and redresses. And of course, Castiel must repeat his mantra a dozen times over to hold back from worshiping the ray of sunshine here and now.

A pistachio silk tank top drapes Dean's glowing frame, while a slightly deeper lilac colors his rather tantalizingly short shorts. Watching the vision thread a royal purple corded belt, Castiel may have licked his lips a few times. Six. Six times. Dammit, seven now.

"See something you like, stud?"

"Sherbet. I want to lick you."

Dean pauses all movement, hands frozen on his belt buckle. Castiel cannot resist stepping forward and finishing the buckle for him. When he gives a final tug, Dean gasps and heaves a breath, "Did it again, Cas!"

The comment fuels Castiel in ways he could never have imagined, so he smirks back, "Your reactions feed my ego and id like nothing else."

"Yeah, well, lucky you! My brain just goes kaput."

Castiel chuckles and leans in for a soft brush of lips.

"Mean it, babe. This thing," tapping his temple, "turns into a capybara, flips over for a belly rub and forgets everything else!"

Grinning in happiness, Castiel prompts, "Such as breathing?"

"Yeah! And thinking, obviously. Seeing, 'cause I can't count how many times I've gone all blue screen up here. Shit, literally can't count! And then there's the whole deal with my fingers and toes going numb. You wreck me in the very best way, Cas."

Heart thudding in elation, the Angel nuzzles his lovely partner's cheek, "You've changed me, sweetheart. You make me feel again; you make me care and want and desire and dream."

"Brought the stone-cold Angel back to life, huh?" Dean's tone is teasing, but there's a palpable note of nervousness below it.

"Yes, my love, you have. Breathing fresh air right into my lungs."

"Well, I am a certified lifeguard, got CPR training n' all."

Moved beyond words, Castiel holds and adores, their eyes on one another speaking volumes greater and faster than any words possibly could. The few moments last longer than a lifetime, perfect. 

When they part with a final soft kiss, Dean pulls up his flirty smile, "Y'know, you're kinda looking like ice cream, too."

"Am I?"

"Mmhmm," a single finger from Dean's strong hand leaves a trail of scorching heat from pec to hip bone. "Orange top, French vanilla shorts, you're a creamsicle. Bet you'd melt in my mouth."

Head rearing back, Castiel knows he's already one fine line from tearing their clothes off and making that happen. 

Dean smirks, "Sure, I go capybara, but you go dragon. C'mon, Angel, let's go n' behave."

The mantra races Castiel's mind on fast-forward and repeat, but it still takes several deep breaths before he's in complete… well, 80% control of his own body. 75% now that he sees just how snug Dean's shorts are.

They're waiting for the elevator when a door swings open down the other hall, a set of raucous laughs heard before anyone emerges. 

Dean sounds stunned, "No freaking way!"

Ah, it's Gabriel. Of course it's Gabriel. And… Sam Winchester. Huh.

Gabriel is smirking with what can only be a grossly inappropriate comment or joke, while the giant follows out with a blushing smile. And promptly freezes.

"Dean!"

"Hey, Sammy. How's it goin'?"

"Good! Fine. Uh, we were just, uh…"

Gabriel swoops in with a wink, "Managers meeting."

"Yeah, that!"

Castiel chews on his inner cheek to prevent a laugh and it appears Dean may be doing the same. When the elevator dings and doors slide open, Dean winks at him. Once in, those long arms wrap around him, chin to Castiel's shoulder, "Was it a hit?"

Sam stammers, "What?"

"The meeting. Y'all hammer out the details? Nail a deadline?"

Half-tempted to chastise Dean, Castiel gives in, "Work some magic ?"

Even as the giant blusters and flushes bright red, Gabriel just wiggles his eyebrows, "Maybe I've got the magic touch."

Inspired to impishness, Castiel counters with, "Those leprechaun fingers seem to have missed a button."

Ah, yes, there's no missing how both men's eyes flew to Sam's shirt. Dean silently shakes at his back, clearly restraining a laugh. Sam glares at his brother even as Gabriel tuts and pats the man's arm, "Sorry, Sammykins, I was distracted."

Dean's husky voice is laced with humor and a level of teasing that is specific to siblings, "C'mon, how're we supposed to trust you with business if you can't get the job done ? Missing something so simple, dunno, man."

"Dean, I swear to God, I'm gonna–."

"What, Sammy? Gonna teach me a lesson ?"

"I despise you."

"Bitch."

"Jerk "

Things quiet for a moment, but Dean is enjoying causing his brother nervous discomfort… and Castiel loves seeing his man happy.  The rapid-fire bombardment continues, "Y'know, with all the crap–."

But the giant points a finger, "And where exactly have you been? Two days, Dean, you dipped out for two days!"

"Sammyboo," Gabriel pats the flustered man's arm, "Meg warned us."

Dean cheekily adds, "Me n' Cas were on sabbatical."

With what must be decades of experience, the brothers bicker. Sam retorts with, "Doing what?"

Castiel interjects, "Sex." Yeah, that paused them all. "Copious amounts of sex. At all times of day and night. On every surface."

Gabriel hoots, "Way to go, Cassie!"

But the golden beauty sounds so sweetly smug at his shoulder, "Just so happens Cas n' I fucked our way through two hotel rooms."

Choking down a laugh, Castiel can't hold back the grin, especially when Sam appears frustrated and cards his hair.

Dean's on a roll now, "And this sexy train ain't stopping. Cas, can we…?"

Knowing exactly what his beloved is asking, he leans further into Dean's strong embrace, "Yes, sweetheart."

"Thanks, babe. Cas n' I are moving in together. This perfect Angel is coming home to Cudjoe n' I'm never letting him go."

Moved yet again by the sheer love radiating from his partner, Castiel tugs a hand up to kiss every knuckle.

Sam blinks at them, turns to Gabriel and back, "Seriously?"

Feeling the truth in his own words, Castiel says, "Yes, Sam. Dean and I are committed to our relationship. We want everything."

"As in, you–," the doors slide open and Sam mutes himself for a moment. "We're talking about this later."

Dean's hand slides into Castiel's as they exit the car, his boyfriend calling over his shoulder, "Dunno when, man. My social calendar's kinda full. Got Cas' penciled in for every day, forever."

"Dean."

"Was that too much, babe? I mean it."

"No, baby, not too much. Just… perfect. You're perfect. I love you, Dean Winchester."

"Same, babe." A sweet kiss speaks to infinite promises. Then his golden man nods towards the banquet hall, "Ready for this?"

"Mmm, ready for it to be over."

"Ha! Yeah. But it's a good thing we've got our game, stud."

Castiel lets his evil smirk rise, "Yes, it is. When I win, you'll be thanking me. On your knees."

"Fuck, Cas."

"Mmhmm, nonstop."

Chapter Text

It’s different. Easier. Better. These elbow-rubbing events always carry a big, fat swath of pressure and Dean always has to pull on an extra layer of swagger to cover the nerves. Not this time. Nope, he’s got Cas at his side, hands clasped tight and that makes literally everything a-okay.

They make rounds together, which is just awesome. Sure, Dean can charm his way through damn near any situation, but he’s taking mental notes on how Cas handles himself. The sexy stud just coasts through every conversation, all graceful and rock-steady. Dean could watch Cas work that mojo forever. Shit, he may very well get to.

Oh, but the best part? Yeah, one of the marketing people had tried to steal Cas away to bore him to death with expected impressions or some crap. But the beauty shut that down with a simple, “We’ll find you later, Margo. My boyfriend and I have several more stops to make first.”

Swoon. There’s gotta be a swing in Dean’s heart or something, ‘cause he’s feeling the motion and absolutely loves it. And everytime he heard the whispers from the nosy industry people, like they’re together, I didn’t know Castiel was even on the market, is it a stunt, Dean just ignores them. Mostly. Some whispers are actually kinda sweet and the rest don’t matter. 

A heavy hand lands on Dean’s shoulder. Ah, Wally. “Oh, I’m just so happy!”

“Hey man,” Dean’s maybe too casual, but the guy again is nearly naked, it’s weird. And said-nearly naked guy wraps arms around him and Cas. Awkward.

Cas is ever so smooth, “Good to see you, Wally. Ah,” disentangling them and tugging Dean that much closer to his side, “thank you for the gift basket.”

Okay, there’s no way Dean would have ever said that to the bigwig signing their checks. Like, hey, the lube was great. Nope. But coming from Cas, it’s not lewd, just… right. Huh.

“Wonderful! You two absolutely created magic this week,” the guy smiles all wide and genuine, “I’ve never had the honor of witnessing such a perfect match.”

Dean wings it with honesty, “That’s what happens when it’s Cas, just makes everything perfect.”

“Dean,” and big ocean eyes just ooze love. Sigh.

“It’s true, babe. Hey,” turning back to the leader of Cupid, “I’m betting your fragrance is gonna be a bestseller. It works.” He knows Cas gets it.

Wally’s eyes all but disappear as he smiles, “You’re in love!”

“Yes, truly and eternally,” Cas is just out here turning Dean’s knees into jello.

Whispering, “Love you,” is the most Dean’s knotted tongue can handle.

But they both blink when their kinda-boss tears up, like actual tears. “Oh, this is wonderful! Don’t mind me, I just love love. Ah,” he swipes at wet cheeks, “there is much work to do. I’m off to Grasse in the morning. I just know in my heart of hearts that this,” grinning at Cas and Dean, “will inspire the most potent of all fragrances!” And the guy lumbers away to confuse the hell outta someone else.

“Cas, what’d that mean?”

Ever gorgeous, the stud tilts his head with a slight frown, “Perhaps he’s intoxicated?”

“You boys are the ones drunk in love. I can smell the fumes from here.”

Okay, maybe they both groaned, so sue them. Cas is braver, though, “Meg.”

“Howdy, Clarence. Hmm, I wasn’t sure you two would emerge from your den of hedonism. After all, who needs fresh air when you’ve got the stink of sex to breathe in?”

“Perhaps if you spoke less, you’d require less oxygen,” ooh, Cas is feisty.

The tiny demon just smirks, “Now why would I do that? It just tickles me to see you acting so... human, Castiel. And you, golden boy, just settling in and behaving. Color me surprised.”

Feeling defensive because he just really doesn’t like this woman, Dean lifts his chin, “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, pure entertainment. Figure I should get some kicks out of your steamy rom com since you’re causing so much extra work for me.”

Dean pushes right back, “Yeah, I’m not buying that. Thing is, we are so freaking great that we saved you two full days of production.”

“Sure, your professionalism really amped up the itinerary. Babysitting you has been an active day at Kiddieland, but now it’s time for the grownups to get to the hard stuff. And not just your Angel,” the witch eyes Cas up and down.

“If you have something to say, Masters, spit it out. Otherwise, my–.”

Meg cuts him off with a deviously arched brow that Dean kinda hopes will require botox real soon. “Nope, just hope you boys enjoy kicking back. I’ll be spending the next several weeks babysitting that oaf,” nodding to Wally across the room, “and feeding him clips of the scenes. My fun in the sun is over until this fragrance is brewed.”

Wait, what? Dean stares at Cas and sees the same confusion.

His boyfriend puts the right words together, “You’re inferring that Obsession does not yet exist?”

“You personify obsession, Novak. But no, dear Cupid over there feeds off the chemistry of his victims. Oops, sorry, off those marked with the curse of love. Somehow he always knows who’s going to fall head over dick in love. Then he builds the scent, the aura of that sticky, cloyingly sweet stuff.”

None of that makes a lick of sense, but just because he doesn’t get it doesn’t mean Dean’s letting go without a dig at the evil creature. “Yeah? And where do you fit in? Gonna interrupt your boss every 30 seconds, maybe spew sarcastic comments, drive him outta his freaking skull?”

“Aww someone is sensitive. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Winchester, with shorts that tight we would all see the lines. My delightful role is supplying the fodder, I mean, the inspirational artwork to the alchemist. And adding my own little touches to the product.”

Cas’ voice is so dry that the humidity in the room dropped a good 8%, “I’m picturing a witch standing before a cauldron, tossing in finger bones and newt eyes.”

“That was another life, Clarene. I’m a whole different person now. Have fun keeping it in your pants for the 13-hour flight home tomorrow,” and final-fucking-ly walks away to torture someone else.

“Real life should have a downvote button,” Dean mumbles.

But his adorable lover cracks that deep laugh, “I agree and would happily spam that button.”

Donner’s served and is kinda palatable, though Dean heeds Cas’ earning and doesn’t even attempt to try the weird, caviar-looking lumps. Nope, hard pass. Even so, it’s awesome ‘cause they’re here, publicly together in front of their peers. Sure, they’re surrounded by the whole freaking production group plus the pencil-pushers, but it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. Cas has that effect on him, just a single look and everything else fades and it’s just the best.

When his lover leaves the table for a bio-break, Dean pouts and watches that perfect ass until the Angel is out of sight. Not willing to participate in the conversation at his table, Dean’s eyes roam. And get stuck on his brother. Huh.

“What’s so intriguing?”

Immediately leaning into Cas, Dean sighs in relief… and chastises himself for being so dramatic. Two minutes without Cas and he’s mopey. Nah, Dean loves it and will embrace his obsession. Nodding towards the table, “It’s Sammy. He’s being weird.”

After several seconds, Cas comments back, “Our brothers appear to be enjoying themselves.”

“That’s just it, babe, Sam never does that. Not since the whole thing with Ruby. He’s focused, all work, no play. But that…”

“Gabriel is the opposite. He frequently must be reminded to stop playing.”

“I guess opposites attract?” Dean’s confused as hell, but has to ask, “Think Gabe’s gonna break his heart?”

There’s a pretty sigh, “To say my brother is fickle would be an understatement. He loves hot and heavy and briefly. But who knows, miracles are already occurring, perhaps there’s hope for them.”

They both watch as Gabe makes dramatic faces while digging into some chocolatey dessert. Seconds later it’s gone and the little guy does some big puppy-eyes thing. Dean snorts and whispers, “Sam makes the same freaking face, it’s awful.”

“But effective,” Cas is right as always, ‘cause the giant hands his dessert right over to the blonde.

“I wanna kick my own ass for saying this,” Dean takes a deep breath, “double-date?”

“Really?” Cas has a small smile that’s just damn cute, “That’s a very thoughtful suggestion.”

“Yeah, well. consider it our last social activity for a long freaking time. ‘Cause when we get home, it’s just you n’ me, stud.”

Which earned him a real bitey kiss, yummy, “I cannot wait.”

“Hell yeah! So?”

“Yes, let’s do it. Though in fair warning, the night may have to be cut short.”

Oh, he knows that sexy tone, Dean licks his lips, “Yeah, why’s that?”

“I’m craving unwrapping this beautifully decorated gift,” one huge hand disappears under the table and slides up Dean’s thigh, “and burying myself in you.”

Somehow not choking despite his tongue slinking down his own throat, Dean manages to say, “You like me wrapped up.”

“Mmm, I can’t wait to tie you up,” lips now devastate Dean’s ear, “and hear you scream.”

“Fuck, Cas!”

“You can bet your ass on it, but later. Finish your water, sweetheart.”

Moving through the fog that is Cas’ effect on him, Dean gulps down the desperately needed liquid. Sure, he feels Cas’ eyes on him and that’s just how it should be. Setting the glass down, he happily drowns in the sapphire seas, buoyant with happiness. And it takes a while for his brain to realize that Cas is standing. But Dean’s eyes get trapped by those thick thighs right freaking there, and his overtaxed brain barely manages to acknowledge that Cas is talking. Brain gives a final futile attempt, slapping the windshield wipers button.

Several blinks and Dean’s focusing on the current world. Oh. Cas is addressing the room. Right. Still a work event.

“... this was it. I cannot begin to express just how happy I am.” The stud is beaming at Dean, tugging his hand up for a nibble.

“Cas, babe…” Dean’s at a loss.

Someone at another table calls over, “So are you officially unretired, Novak?”

Sure, they hadn’t really gotten to that portion of the talk yet, but Dean’s got a massive feeling he knows the answer. 

“Don’t expect to see me, either of us, for the next several months, Jameson.”

Dean’s heart gives a thud. 

The same guy shoots back, “Got a project?”

“No, a goal,” and for all that’s perfect, Cas sits right back down and hauls Dean in for a blisteringly hot kiss.

Dean’s still drunk on the potency of Cas’ love when someone from their table quips, “Well, we’d love to hear from Winchester.”

Shaking his head, Dean grins up at Cas, “Nah, Cas has us both covered.”

A chorus of awws and laughs abound before the group’s attention shifts to hear accolades from the wardrobe people. The rest of the dinner is spent with Dean all but sitting on Cas’ lap, so close that he can feel his Angel’s pulse through his entire body. Zoning out the voices, Dean hears the pattern, the music that is Cas’ heart. He slips into the most soothing melody. 

Warm lips on his cheek bring him back, that incredible voice just right there, “You have an incredible voice, Dean.”

Lost now, it takes a second, “What?”

“You were singing.”

“Oh. Shit, didn’t realize.”

“Mmhmm. I’ve never heard those lyrics.”

Okay, here comes a blush ‘cause that’s his second state of nature lately. “I, uh, just made them up.”

“Dean, that’s awesome!”

And the squirm is right on cue, “You inspire me.”

“Dean.”

Heart thumping an accompanying note, it’s a symphony in here. Yup, that’s love. “Cas, can I pick our date?”

The big guy grins all gummy and gorgeous, “Anything.”

Okay, here goes bravery again, “Karaoke”

“Do… are you going to sing to me?”

“Yeah. But you gotta dance with me.”

“Deal.”

“Thanks, babe,” he pulls his boyfriend in for a chaste kiss. “This is gonna be awesome.”

Chapter Text

Castiel cannot stop smiling, everything is just better. Because of his boyfriend, every color is brighter, scent is sweeter, sound is clearer. Well, nearly. The whispered argument between Dean and Sam was not missed, but Castiel is well aware of how working with siblings can be straining. He’s also certain that neither brother is actually upset, they’re just, well, brothers. And the exchange is quickly over, with Dean strutting his delectable self back where he belongs, in Castiel’s arms.

“Man, see what happens when I play nice and invite the moose out to do something?”

Kissing Dean’s nose, Castiel hums, “There is so little thanks within families.”

“Right? Y’know, bet our family, you n’ me, never gonna be like that.”

“No, never. Are they coming?”

Dean glances over at his brother again, “Yeah, he’s just embarrassed or something. It’s my right to annoy the hell outta him until he agrees to what I want.”

“You have my full support, sweetheart.” True words and a happy heart, Castiel soon finds himself holding the door for his lover and the new possible-couple into the karaoke lounge. 

Rather than subjecting one another to idle small talk, an unspoken expectation has been acknowledged by the four men. While Gabriel flies through any topic that lands in his bird-brain, he pets Sam constantly, keeping the giant blushing and stammering. When Dean just grins cheekily and teases his brother, the two quickly delve into calling out one another’s most embarrassing faux-pas. 

“It wasn’t like that, c’mon, tell it right,” Dean’s grumbling.

“Uh, yeah it was,” the tall one counters. “Your legs looked like the main menu course at a mosquito convention.”

Dean scoffs adorably, “They were… a little red, that’s all.”

“Right. Which is why you had to use burn cream for a week and whined everytime salt water got on you.”

“Whatever.”

“Admit it, Dean, I was right.”

“Fine, drop it, okay? It’s not like I’m the only person to mess up waxing.”

Sam smirks back, “No, and that’s why there are instructions and warning labels on the kits.”

Castiel tugs Dean closer to nuzzle his cheek, “I’ve done it, too.”

Emeralds sparkle back at him, “Really?”

“Mmhmm, and from then on I only use a professional service.”

“Okay, now I don’t feel so bad. Place I use back home is great, you’ll like it.”

A fluttering warmth courses Castiel’s chest, adoring how simply they’re meshing with one another. Just that casual mention of sharing a lifestyle commodity, it’s incredible.

Sam sounds similarly incredulous, with a note of caution, “You’re serious about that? Both of you, living together?”

Dean threads his fingers through Castiel’s, his touch so soothing, “Yeah. Forever.”

“Gotta say, Cassie, I’m surprised but in a really good way,” Gabriel is grinning, but there’s seriousness behind the mischief. “You look happy.”

“I am.”

“Dean-o, you must be a true Goldilocks ‘cause the old guy has never been happy.”

Rolling his eyes at his irritating brother, Castiel quips back, “You’re older than me.”

“Meh, tomato potato.”

But Dean squeezes his hand, “Just really love him.”

“Dean,” the Angel kisses his lover’s temple, breathing in the scent of pure Dean.

The ribbing continues as expected, though each man seems to calm and acclimate as the minutes pass. When the live band on-stage moves onto a calmer repertoire, their meal is served. The wide-eyed wonder on Dean’s face is breathtaking, Castiel grins at the blatant joy, “Just how long has it been, Dean?”

“What? Oh, pizza? Too damn long,” the beautiful man grabs a piping-hot slice and bites right in. His moan borders on obscene, his face one of bliss, “Mmm baby, I’ve missed you. This is so freaking good.”

“Dude, you sound like cheesy porn,” Sam huffs and pokes at his own salad.

“Just look at all this cheese,” Dean takes another huge bite, speaking with his mouth full, “Carbs make me so happy.”

Forceful swallowing the growl that rises all too often around his boyfriend, Castiel craves feeding Dean, hearing the sounds rise as he offers bites from his very fingers. But the sweet man does something equally wonderful, turning the slice to Castiel, “Try, babe, sin with me.”

Eagerly accepting the offer, Castiel sighs when the flavors hit his tongue.

“Good, right?”

Meeting his lover’s eyes, he admits, “The only way this could get better is if I was eating it off your naked body,” 

Oh, there’s that rosy flush, Dean’s freckles highlighted like stars, a flick of tongue across his lips, “That could be… arranged.”

Even as Castiel’s grin sharpens, something bounces off his cheek. Glaring at his own brother who is already balling up a second napkin, Castiel grumbles, “Do you mind?”

“Yup! Keep that sexy talk at a lower volume, you’re getting my Samzilla bothered.”

Dean snorts, “Sam’s bothered by everything.”

Before Sam can bluster and counter back, Gabriel winks, “Don’t I know. But since nachos aren’t sexy,” pointing to his dish, “and salad is too messy to eat off… well, now that I mention it, I wouldn’t mind your salad, Sammalam.”

Castiel and Dean snort but Sam jolts, running a hand through his hair and looking entirely flustered, choking out an exclamation, “Jeez! I don’t– just stop! Holy crap, what have I gotten myself into.”

Gabriel pouts, “I’m not a what , I’m a who .”

“Oh my god,” the giant grabs his water and gulps like his life depends on it.

Showing his true character, Dean addresses his brother again, “Hey, relax, man. Just be happy, it’s the best place to be,” swinging his eyes to Castiel.

Gently rubbing that golden cheek, Castiel’s voice is low, laden, “You’re incredible, my love.”

“And all yours, babe.”

When Dean has eaten as much pizza as his devastatingly perfect body can contain, he pats his flat belly, “Man vs pizza: I came, I slew, I conquered.”

“Utterly valiant efforts, dear warrior,” Castiel nods sagely, “There shall be songs written to commemorate such a triumph.”

“Damn right! Speaking of which, gonna go put my name on the list,” Dean rises and stretches, looking a thousand times more appealing than any food possibly could. 

Castiel’s watching Dean’s lovely legs when his attention is pulled away by the giant.

“Hey, listen,” Sam glances between Castiel and Gabriel, “Singing is Dean’s passion, but also makes him kinda vulnerable. Just… go easy on him, okay?”

“Sam, everything about Dean is extraordinary. I have no doubt that his performance with be equally incredible.”

“Huh,” now the protective younger brother stares hard for a moment, then snorts, “Yeah, I don’t want to hear anything about my brother’s performance ,”

“For the love of,” Castiel rolls his eyes.

“But seriously, that support is really great.”

Dean’s back and it’s like the sun rose, him bringing life-sustaining warmth. They settle comfortably while other patrons take the stage. Overall, it’s entertaining and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, though Castiel is honestly only concerned with the status of one person. And when said-person’s name is called by the DJ, there is a flash of anxiety across the beauty’s face.

Castiel leans in for a nibble, whispering, “I’m so excited to hear you, sweetheart.”

It’s a bit breathless, but Dean sounds more assured, “Yeah? Love you, Cas.”

“Entirely, Dean.”

Strong shoulders straighten, regal chin lifts with confidence and Dean takes the stage. He pops the mic free from the stand, twirling it with clever fingers for just the amount of tease. The music starts up, something Castiel doesn’t recognize but already adores. Then Dean sings and the entire world fades away as this perfect man’s voice croons and soars, every word drifting into the very fiber of Castiel’s soul.

(Sounds of Someday - Radio Company)

Other hands clap and whistles pierce the air as Dean ends his incredible serenade, but none could rival how enthusiastically Castiel cheered for his lover. Perhaps he stood too quickly and bumped the table, knocking glasses over and resulting in some exclamations from the brothers. All that matters is his lover.

Dean’s grinning at the cheers, playing bashful… or maybe he truly is. This is Dean’s true art, it must be. Ah, that makes sense! Castiel must offer his support.

Shouting loud, the Angel demands, “Another!” More voices add to the request. Dean takes the mic again, eyes on Castiel except when those emeralds close for some deep crooning. 

(Restless Man - Radio Company)

Every line that is sung, Castiel finds himself drawn closer to the stage. The steps are unacknowledged, everything around them is blurred out, all that he sees, hears, feels, knows is this radiant golden light before him.

The music fades and Dean is just beaming. Castiel holds out a hand, heart thudding when his boyfriend takes it and steps down, into his awaiting arms. 

Nuzzling at Dean’s neck, Castiel melts into his love. Dean’s whisper is low, gruff, “You liked that?”

“Sweet baby,” Castiel kisses along Dean’s jaw, “I’ve never heard anything more beautiful than you .”

“Fuck, Cas, I’m… thanks, babe.”

They quiet and just hold. More music seeps in, the voices inconsequential as they gently sway to the melody, cocooned in their own universe. That is until something discordant and more painful than nails on a chalkboard arose.

Dean’s laughing as he spins Castiel once, the Angel twirling right back into Dean’s long arms, met by the words, “Everything we do, Cas, I’m just so happy.”

“Same, my love.”

“This is gonna be an awesome forever,” Dean plants a loud, wet kiss on his lips.

“I have zero doubts, Dean.”

Back at the table, Sam’s blushing furiously, which has Dean leaping on him, “What’s up, dude?”

“Nothing!”

Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows, “Chinook here wet his pants.”

“What?! No! Cas bumped the table. soda spilled, that’s all!”

“That’s what I said, dollface, now your pants are wet. I merely offered to help him blow dry them.”

Castiel sighs, Dean laughs and Sam stares around the room with blusteriness. 

“So, Dean-o,” dammit, Gabriel will surely irritate Dean. “You’ve got some talent.”

Silence. Gabriel’s compliments are often multi-faceted and result in pain. Castiel intervenes, “I adore your voice, sweetheart.”

“Yup, think you’ve shown your real skill here, kid.”

Castiel stares at his brother, waiting for the sarcasm. Nothing comes, so he pushes, “Dean is exquisite in every way.”

Gabriel shrugs, “Sure, all the Mugatus are tripping to get Hansel. He's so hot right now! Got looks, but vocals are something else.”

The golden beauty juts his chin, “Thanks. Just a hobby.”

“Really? See, thing is, even though your tall drink of a brother here is seriously distracting, I notice things. And you, bucko, put a lot into your work. Saw your contract; well, saw everyone’s ‘cause Kali just– ah, ignore that, Sammy?” The shorter Novak looks… embarrassed.

The giant huffs and shrugs, feigning nonchalance, “Your business, Gabe.”

Hmm.

“What I’m trying to say is, you don’t half-ass actual work, Dean. Bet Cassie can confirm that.”

“Gabriel.”

“Anywho, Cassie should bring you by the office sometime.”

Glancing between Gabriel and Sam, Dean waits for a moment before replying, “Thanks. Uh, I’m not looking to change-up management. Would kinda make family dinners awkward.”

All the men snort, but Gabriel jumps back in, “That’s the crappy thing about working with family, folks assume that just because you’re related, that’s the star you’re most dedicated to.”

Dryly, Castiel adds, “I have brought you the most revenue, exposure and–.”

“Hush! Moving on, my main gig is music. I’m based in Nashville for a reason.”

“Oh,” Dean glances at Castiel.

The Angel confirms, “It’s true, Dean. The imp is… marginally talented in discovering talent.”

“That’s cool, just… uh, Sammy?”

“Yeah! Ah, Dean’s not interested in a label or anything. This is kinda his… dream? Yeah, it’s catharsis and a way to be happy.”

Before Castiel can say anything, Gabriel leans back and eyes Dean, “No reason it can’t be all that and more. My brother can probably confirm it, but you’re the full star power. Looks, poise, charm, voice. You made a helluva jump in the first three. I can boost the fourth.”

For another rare moment, Castiel is sincerely happy to have Gabriel as his brother. But his eyes are on Dean, watching the surprise and faint blush.

“That’s really cool, Gabe…”

Gabriel shrugs, “Think about it. Tell Cassie if you decide to give that voicebox a go for more than screami– oof! Ow, Sammy!”

The giant had elbowed the tiny man, “Dude, that’s my brother, gross!”

“So sensitive, baby. It’s okay, I adore you like this,” and for all the insanity that is Gabriel, the other couple get lost in one another’s eyes.

Huh.

Dean’s fingers on his bring him back to the true focus, Dean himself. “Hey, babe, I didn’t know Cas was in that scene. Swear I wasn’t trying to–.”

Silencing Dean with his lips, Castiel savors the flavor before saying, “Never crossed my mind, darling. Though now that I’ve heard you sing, I can’t not imagine you on a stage,” kissing Dean’s fingers, “strumming a guitar,” kissing Dean’s cheekbones, “singing to me.”

A sigh so beautiful that Castiel’s toes curl, Dean smiles oh so sweetly, “When we get home, gonna serenade you all the time.”

“I truly cannot wait,” the Angel kisses Dean’s nose. “We just have to survive tonight and the flight… home.”

“Can and will, babe. We can do anything.”

Smiling but teasing, Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand, “You sound so sure.”

“Sure am. We’re together.”

Chapter Text

"Time to get up, sweetheart."

Dean moans and burrows into Cas' neck, "Five minutes."

But he gets nudged up, "It's already been ten. Come on, Dean."

"Counter offer: no."

That earthquaking laugh is just so freaking perfect, and he feels Cas kiss his head. Dean can't believe he gets to wake up everyday with this actual Angel. Oh, right! He sits right up and stumbles to his feet.

Cas' messy hair is just damn cute as he grins, "I expected more of a fight."

"Any other day, yeah. But this," reaching to tug his boyfriend out of bed, "is an actual holiday."

"What are we celebrating?"

"The day we go home." Okay, it sounded cheesy to his own ears, but he's in love, can't help it.

"Dean," those ocean eyes are all soft and somehow even bigger, "you're marvelous."

He steals a kiss 'cause he can, "Love you. Now get moving, don't wanna be late." Yup, he earned the swat on his ass. It doesn't take long to pack, mainly because instead of carefully organizing every last item, he just shoved everything into the suitcases and zipped them up. Which leaves more time for something much better: choking down Cas' huge cock cumming at his feet in the shower. Fuck, he's seriously addicted to this sexy stud.

Dressed and ready to go, he watches out the window for a long minute, just thinking.

Cas' arms wrap around Dean's waist, chin on his shoulder, "I'll never forget this view."

"Was thinking the same thing. We're coming back, right?"

"Mmhmm, anytime you want."

"For our anniversary." Oh, Dean hears the hitched breath, feels those fingers twitch. He turns and watches Cas for a second, sees the heavy emotion on his perfect face. "Was that too much?"

"No. No, Dean, never too much," those thick lips grace him with tony kisses. "And yes, for our anniversary."

"Good. Love you."

"Forever, my love."

Heart full, Dean stays smiling and floating in happiness all the way to the airport. And for the first time ever, Dean's not a basket case about flying. Nope, Cas' hand in his keeps him grounded, a hug and some sweet kisses wipe away the anxiety. When Dean's got a death grip on the armrest at takeoff, Cas cards their fingers together and the fear just kinda melts. There's nothing that beats Cas' love. 

A few hours into the flight, Cas excuses himself and heads to the restroom. Dean doesn't pout because he's a grown man and can handle being on his own for two minutes. Fingers tapping on his now-bouncing knee, he glanced out the window… and all he sees is clouds. Nope! Pulling the shutter closed, Dean can taste the anxiety, feels the icy chill up his spine. Shit, he needs to distract himself. Humming doesn't help and he keeps glancing at the empty seat beside him. He needs Cas. 

And an executive decision is made, Dean's already on his feet and digging into the overhead bin for his carryon bag. Finding what he needs, he's stalking to the back of the first-class cabin. Ignoring the unoccupied lavatory, Dean impatiently waits for all of like 12 seconds. The door clicks and swings open but Dean just pushes right in.

"Dean!"

"Shh," Dean crowds the stud, running his hands right under Cas' shirt. Nibbling at that perfect jaw, Dean whispers, "Want you real bad."

"We can't–."

"Yeah we can, just gotta be quiet," he's getting real handsy, "Need your cock in me." Oh yeah, the sexy beast is interested, his jaw flexing, just needs a final nudge. Dean holds up the travel-sized aloe vera and wiggles his eyebrows.

That did the trick and Cas goes off! He palms Dean's ass, long fingers squeezing and kneading, his wicked mouth chewing across Dean's throat. Dean has to bite back a lewd moan when Cas, well, bites him. Teeth sink into that mark on his neck, bringing that perfect ratio of pleasure and pain and Dean's cock loves it. In a blink he's spun around and bracing his hands on the sink, his leggings yanked down to his knees. His thong is tugged to the side, Cas' cock is already there and holy shit he could live with that thing inside him! 

Giving short, sharp thrusts, Cas fucking rails Dean and it's just the best. This freaking god has the most insanely perfect ability to nail Dean's sweet spot, he could fall apart right now. But… 

"Don't let me cum!"

Yanked back by his hair, Dean trembles as Cas growls in his ear, "Don't you dare cum. This ," slamming that monster cock halfway to Dean's teeth, "is for me ."

"Yes! For you, Cas, all–," the rest is silenced by Cas' hand wrapped around his throat.

"This is mine ," the snarl has Dean's eyes rolling back. "My cum will leak from this hole, so fucking messy." This Angel goes into overdrive, absolutely shattering Dean' body and mind, raging as he floods Dean's ass. It's so primal so fucking hot, Deans shellshocked. All he can do is gasp for air once Cas lets him breathe again.

He feels his thong snap back into place, then Cas pulls Dean's leggings back up, brushing his hand just once across Dean's weeping cock. Now Cas spins him back around and licks Dean's flushed cheeks, "Mmm, that was very satisfying."

"You're a fucking beast!"

With a smirk so wicked that Dean's cock is throbbing that much more, Cas squeezes Dean's ass, "And your ass is going to stay soaked at every moment."

Yup, that's got Dean forgetting to breathe. He knows what the response is gonna be, but has to hear it, loving his own desperation, "Lotta hours left, might dry up."

"No, I'll keep you wet."

And he sure as hell does. By the time they're taxiing to the gate, they make three more tandem trips to the restroom. Dean's ass aches with every step and his thong is stickier than a lot of honey and his anxiety is replaced by Cas. This is just the best. 

Dragging their suitcases through the parking garage, Dean points with a hefty dose of enthusiasm, "There she is! Cas, meet Baby!"

"She's beautiful, Dean."

Preening like a proud parent, Dean gives his beloved Impala a thorough inspection. Satisfied to see nothing more than a little dust – and that's gonna be washed off real soon – he loads their luggage and holds the door for Cas. Sliding behind the wheel, he's grinning when she wakes right up. "Oh, that's my girl! Sounding good."

The drive from Miami to Cudjoe isn't quick, but it feels damn good to be almost-home. The sun's rising over the Atlantic, the sweet breeze ruffling their hair and good tunes on the radio. And the best part? Cas' hand in his nearly the entire time. As they coast down the A1A, he points out spots and gives back stories, thrilled with how Cas just pays attention to everything. It's awesome.

Then… they're here. Pulling off the highway, he's getting kinda hyper, just freaking excited to be here. The moment he parks, Dean leaps out of the car and races to get Cas' door, watching his godly face for every reaction. Okay, maybe Dean rambles for a minute about the landscaping and the driveway pavers, his heart's racing. But this is the moment. 

Pressing close for a long and perfect kiss, Dean melts when Cas cups his cheek for a moment. Pushing the door open, he whispers, "Welcome home, Cas."

Chapter Text

~One Month Later~

Castiel is on a mission. He scours the white sands for any telltale signs of– ah, there! Some brushing, a bit of wiggling, and he has uncovered a helmet shell. Holding up his prize, he calls to his boyfriend, "What do you think?"

"Hey, that's great!" Dean's brilliant smile is always contagious. "Just a couple more and we'll have enough."

Adding his find to the small pile, Castiel is invested in the project. Dan wants to build a shell-themed barrier around the fire pit, so they're hunting down as many as they can find. Spying another promising lump in the sand, Castiel gets digging. Oh, it's a big one, Dean's going to be pleased. A bit more oomph is needed to free it, but the reward is worth it. This conch shell is bigger than all the rest and completely intact, not a single crack. Raising it high to show his lover, Castiel sees something fall. A cube. Bending to retrieve it, Castiel blinks in surprise when a golden hand covers it first. Dean’s right there, kneeling and holding a small black velvet box. 

Castiel can’t breathe.

The lips he loves move and the words are just  “Babe, since the moment we met, every second of my life has been better. You make life better. I mean it, sounds are clearer, colors are brighter, and even though I forget to breathe sometimes ‘cause you literally steal my breath, when I do, the air is purer. All because of you, Cas. Sometimes I think my heart’s gonna burst ‘cause it’s so full, I love you so freaking much. And somehow I’m the luckiest bastard ever ‘cause you love me and that’s the greatest honor possible. I want this forever, us, every moment.” Dean opens the box, “Cas, wIll you marry me?”

Castiel’s answer is instant and absolute, his voice cracks as the emotions escape through sound, it’s a choked, sobbing laugh of pure joy, “Yes, Dean. Yes!” 

Dean gasps a breath, a tear sliding down his perfect cheek, but his hands are steady as he lifts the ring and slides it onto Castiel’s finger. 

Rocked to his core, Castiel cannot look away for a long moment. The white gold band has the faintest etchings and Castiel just knows those are feathers, with a sapphire and emerald inlay. It’s them. He pulls Dean to his feet, crushing them together so tightly that there’s no telling where their bodies begin and end, they’re one. 

When he has semi-control of himself, he must taste Dean, he cannot stop kissing this incredible man who owns his heart. Peppering his lips across the sun-kissed cheeks, Castiel feels his own cheeks aching from smiling so broadly. “I love you, Dean, I… I’m so happy.”

“Can’t believe you said yes,” Dean’s voice trembles but he’s smiling, “Never been so nervous in my life.”

“Sweetheart, it will always be yes, forever.”

They remain there for a long time, just holding one another, immersed in their incredible love. When Dean lifts Castiel’s hand and kisses around the ring, his voice is husky, “Do you like it?”

“This is perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah? Wanted, no, I needed it to be special.”

“It is. Thank you, my love.” Oh, he sees Dean hesitate and knows his betrothed wants to ask something more. “What is it?”

“I know it’s been all of five minutes n’ all, but, um, maybe… Cas, I don’t want to wait to call you my husband. Could we take our vows soon?”

“Yes, baby, I want that, too.”

“And since I’m already on the selfish, demanding train,” the adorable man looks sheepish for a moment, “I wanna get married right here. On our beach, just like this, with our toes in the sand.”

“That sounds incredible, we must!”

“I freaking love you.”

“Forever, Dean.”