Archive of Our Own ^beta

ECHOES
By Senashenta

There had been a coven of witches on their tail for the last five towns, and it was beginning to get tiresome. They were forever finding hex bags in their hotel rooms, in their pockets, in Baby—that last one really got Dean riled up—and they had cut it close a couple of times on finding them and barely managing not to die. Even Cas was being affected—they had somehow burnt out his wings, his ability to fly, for an entire day at one point—and he was a freaking angel for crying out loud. (Cas has sat around pouting for almost that entire day.) Enough was bloody enough already.

The spell-and-potion combination was simple enough, really, or at least it should have been, and just meant to track down the coven so they could go and end the admittedly so far one-sided feud before it got out of hand (it was already out of hand, actually.) They got it from a contact of theirs, Neave Wynne, who’d helped them out on a couple of things a while back—admittedly for money, she didn’t work for free then and still didn’t now, it turned out, but she was trustworthy as long as you ponied up the dough and that was the important thing.

Their drive to meet up with Neave took them nearly four days out of their way but at least it was four days of travel that was unpredictable and harder for the Problem Coven to track. Cas was gone for most of that time, attending to his duties in Heaven now that his wings were back, but appeared in the back seat of the Impala near the end of the last day of their journey, giving Dean and Sam both a minor startle, but at least not enough for Dean to nearly drive them off the road like the last time Cas had pulled that same stunt.

Dean still cursed. Loudly. And then apologized to his boyfriend for doing just that a moment later. Cas forgave him quickly and easily, of course. Sam snorted over the entire interaction.

They were roughly two hours out from Portland at that point, and the rest of the drive was perfectly pleasant despite the underlying tension of why they were going to Portland in the first place. When they got into town, they had a bit of time to kill before they were supposed to meet up with Neave, so they drove to the nearest cheap motel and booked a pair of rooms for the night.

The motel they found was run down and kitschy, but that was nothing new, and Sam went to his room while Dean and Cas settled into their own. About two hours of indiscriminate cuddling (and intermittent napping) later, Sam came banging on their door and they all headed out to the café downtown where they were all supposed to meet Neave. They all ordered coffee and Dean, naturally, got a slice of apple pie while they waited for Neave to arrive. By the time she did, fashionably late, Dean was finished with his pie.

Every time they met up with Neave, she had her bobbed hair dyed a different color, and this time was no different. Last time it had been aquamarine. Now, when she walked into the café and headed over toward the table they were occupying, she was sporting bright pink hair with white streaks. She definitely didn’t fit the description of your stereotypical witch, not that a “stereotypical” witch was actually a thing, anyway, but if there was one, she wasn’t it.

Neave spotted them right away and made her way over to their table, toting an over-full shopping bag along with her purse, and simply dropped into the empty chair beside Sam without so much as a by-your-leave. She set the bag on the ground by her feet with a dull thunk, her purse on the table with hardly any sound at all, and announced, “you guys look like crap.”

“Yeah, well, you look like you lost a fight with a cotton candy machine.” Dean came back somewhat lamely. “Did you bring all the stuff we need or what?”

“Right to business, as usual. Not even time for a latte.” Neave sighed and patted one hand on the table. “I brought everything. Except the bowl and the mortar and pestle, you can get your own damn bowl from a dollar store, and I assume you already own a mortar and pestle. Just hand over the cash so I can get my coffee and be on my way.”

“I’m sorry, please don’t mind my brother. We appreciate you meeting us here.” Sam apologized, already digging the envelope of money out of his inside jacket pocket and sliding it sideways to her, “we’re all just a little on edge, lately. You understand?”

“I like your hair.” Cas added, making Dean give him a look. Cas just shrugged. “What? I do. It’s colorful.”

Neave gave Cas a little smile, relaxing slightly again. “Thanks, sweetie.”

“You’re welcome, Neave.” Cas returned her smile with one of his own, then added, “but we really should get down to business before Dean implodes.”

“Right.” Neave leaned down to pick up the bag by her feet and set it on the table. “Everything you need is in here.” She plucked a set of printed pages from the top of the bag, then, and handed them to Sam; “the list of ingredients and the instructions. I already checked once to make sure everything was in the bag, but you might want to give it a once-over as well.”

Sam hesitated, but then nodded, “as long as you won’t be offended, Neave. But I would like to do a quick inventory, just in case. You know anything can happen.” When Neave just shrugged and waved a hand in his direction, Sam flashed a quick smile and began emptying the bag. Thankfully everything was neatly labelled, and Sam was good with identifying spell ingredients, anyway.

When a pair of women wandered past and gave Sam a strange look Dean just kind of gestured to everything that was happening in front of him and offered awkwardly, “uh, herbal teas, you know.” —even though some of the items were more than obviously not herbal in nature.

While Sam went through the (rather large) bag of spell ingredients and mentally ticked them all off of the physical list, Neave got up and headed over to order herself a green tea latte with cinnamon. Dean, Cas and Sam already had their coffees, of course—the straight, black kind, none of the fancy stuff for them—and soon Neave rejoined them with a large latte in hand and a much more content look on her face.

“How’s it looking so far?” She asked Sam as she slid into her seat again. “I was very careful when I packed up this morning.”

“No, yeah, it’s all good so far.” Sam replied distractedly, still going through the second half of the bag of ingredients. “I’ll be done in a minute, here…”

“You know,” Neave sighed and tapped the pads of her fingers against the table absently, “when you called and explained the situation, I tried to do a more basic tracking spell to root them out for you, but it didn’t work. I’m strong, but whoever you’re up against is obviously stronger… or using more powerful spells, at the very least. There’s a chance they might not really know what they’re actually doing with them but considering the war they’re waging against you it seems likely that they do. Anyway, I did try.”

Dean was giving her a surprised look. He cleared his throat before saying, “I’m… surprised. That you tried that for us. Without asking for payment, I mean.”

“I do have a heart, Dean Winchester.” Rolling her eyes, she lifted her latte to take a sip and winced when it was still too hot. After a brief pause, she added, “witches of the kind that are after you give all witches a bad name. They make even the good witches look bad, and that includes me.”

And if there was one thing Neave Wynne was it was good, or, chaotic neutral, at the very least. She may have (generally) peddled her services for cash, but as she had said earlier, she had to make a living—and the ingredients she used were often expensive or hard to come by—or both.

But in general, Neave did good and for good people, or at least that was the impression they were getting from her, anyway. She helped them out, after all, and most witches knew to stay well and truly clear of the Winchesters and Castiel. Neave didn’t even blink about helping them out, even though it put her life in danger to do so. If anyone found out that she was the source of their spells and magic, especially other witches, it would be her head on a platter.

“Okay… this all looks good. Thanks for indulging me, Naeve.” Sam finished off going through the little boxes and baggies of ingredients and everything came up fine, so he tucked it all away again, with the exception of the actual spell instructions, which he started giving a once-over. “Seems like a pretty basic spell, actually, just some of the incantations are a little complex…”

“Yeah, but you guys have to be the ones to perform it. That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t just do it for you, or I would have. Would’ve saved me a drive.” Neave shrugged and went for another sip of her latte, taking the lid off and blowing on it lightly beforehand this time—and when she took her sip this go around, she didn’t burn herself. “The rest is up to you. Do it after dark, that’s when it’ll work best.” Then another little flash of a smile and she stood up, picking her purse up to take with her; “I should get going. Call me if you run into any trouble.”

“Will do.” Dean gave her a little tip of his head. “Thanks, Neave.”

“Really.” Cas added.

“No problem.” Neave waved them off, then headed for the door, “good luck, boys!”

--
--

When they got back to the Impala, which was parked just outside of the café and in full sight the entire time they were inside, she absolutely refused to start. Dean tried over and over again until he was red in the face with frustration and finally climbed out of the car and went around to open the hood—where some digging produced a hex bag tucked in beside the battery and how had they gotten it there without any of them seeing in the first place?!

Dean proceeded to rip it out, pass it to Sam to torch the thing, and swear like a sailor.

Then they needed a tow back to a garage and a new battery before the Impala was ready to take them home again. Cas could understand why Dean was so angry, and it wasn’t even the first time it had happened. This coven was taking potshots at Baby and that was absolutely unacceptable.

Once they were finally back at the motel, they checked both of their rooms thoroughly for additional hex bags, came up empty, thank goodness, and then Sam retired to his room to go over the spell a couple dozen more times, while Dean and Cas went to their own room for Dean to calm down a little.

After they made plans for Sam to come by later that night to work the spell, and they were inside the room with the door locked behind them, Dean stalked over and basically flung himself back onto the bed, then waited for Cas to shrug out of his trench coat, suit jacket and tie and get out of his shoes before joining him. Once he was more comfortable, Cas climbed into the bed with his boyfriend, pulled Dean’s boots off and discarded them with a soft scoffing sound, and tucked into his side, one hand coming up to stroke through Dean’s hair soothingly as Dean slowly wound down.

“It’s okay—”

“They went after Baby again, Cas—”

“—and there was no real harm done. Just needed a new battery. Baby’s fine, it’s not like they blew her up or anything.” Cas murmured, leaning up to press a kiss by Dean’s jaw, which was clenched tight, still. Cas sighed softly and continued stroking through Dean’s hair gently before sliding his hand down to rest over Dean’s chest, tracing absent little circles in the fabric of his shirt there. “So, relax. We’re safe for now, and so is Sam, and so is the Impala, and tonight we’ll get a fix on this coven so we can put an end to all this nonsense.”

Dean slowly began to unwind the more Cas spoke, just soft words meant to soothe him, combined with gentle touches and little kisses—and it was working. Dean started to ease off the throttle after a few minutes of Cas’s attentions—and then finally tilted his head to meet the next little kiss that Cas meant to drop against his jaw with his lips instead. Cas hummed out a pleased noise, and when they parted Dean sighed.

“I’m sorry, I just… you know how I get about that car.” He apologized and adjusted slightly to cuddle Cas closer to himself. “I’ve built her from the ground up more than once and left in all the little quirks. The legos, the army man, and me n’ Sammy’s initials carved in the back window well… all that kind of stuff.”

“I understand, Dean.” Cas murmured and leaned up to kiss against Dean’s chin gently. “You know how time is more fluid for angels? Well, I’ve seen you grow up in that car. Baby was the closest thing to a real home that you ever had…”

“Except you.” Dean said softly, ducking in for another kiss, this one longer and full of emotion; “you were my home for a long time, Cas. Emotionally, anyway. And you are again, now. I mean, I’m making a big deal about the Impala, but when it comes down to it, it’s all you.”

Cas smiled up at him fondly, then pushed up and into another kiss. When they drew apart a moment later, he licked his lips and then just started moving downward, pushing at Dean’s shirts as he went, rucking them up and out of the way. “Take these off, Dean.” He had Dean’s t-shirt partially pushed up to trail kisses along his abdomen but sat back again to give Dean room to strip out of his shirts—and his boyfriend did so, without question. They were often past the point of questioning each other’s motives, nowadays, especially when they were as obvious as Cas’s were now.

“Cas…”

“Shush, we have plenty of time.” With Dean’s shirts discarded, Cas just pushed him back down onto his back, then returned to what he had been doing, kissing and licking his way down Dean’s torso to pause at the edge of his jeans and reach to pop them open, then drag the zipper down slowly.

This was just going to be a quick blowjob, even if they didn’t still have a couple of hours before Sam was due to arrive at their door. Or at least that was the intent, anyway—sometimes things had a habit of going pear-shaped on them when it came to their sexual exploits, so Cas couldn’t be exactly certain. (Dean would probably want to return the favor at the very least.)

For now, though, Cas focused on undoing Dean’s pants and hiking them down off his hips, then following that by his boxers, pushing at both until they were down far enough that Dean could kick them away—and he was glad he’d taken the time to take Dean’s boots off, earlier, considering the way things were headed now.

Dean was already, blessedly hard just from a few kisses and gentle touches, and arched his hips slightly when Cas returned to him, leaning in to lick up the underside of his cock heatedly, then over the head into the mess of precome there. It tasted of molecules, but was still good in its’ own way, and he had gotten used to it again over the time since his moult—when he had last tasted his boyfriend properly.

Dean had relaxed right back against the bed at this point, which had been Cas’s plan all along, to get him to fully relax, and now he rocked his hips upward lightly with a soft sound in his throat, urging Cas on. Cas chuckled softly and drew Dean’s cock into his mouth, beginning to suck warmly—and at the same time stretching to reach over the edge of the bed for the duffle bag there and the lube contained within its’ outer pocket.

Once he had it in hand (it was a bit of a stretch and he was surprised that Dean didn’t call him on it, if he was honest), he settled again, still giving Dean slow, unhurried head, and quietly uncapped the lube to slick up two of the fingers in his right hand, then capped it again and set it aside before sliding his hand inward and prodding at Dean’s entrance lightly.

Dean jerked in surprise and lifted his head to stare down at Cas, eyes a little wide. Cas just continued sucking him off for a long moment before pulling off his cock, licking his lips, to offer, “just two fingers, and we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I would never force—”

“I know. I know, you just…” Dean brought one hand up to run through his hair and dropped his head back against the pillows, “you just surprised me, that’s all. But it’s fine,

“Really?” Cas slid his tongue out to lap at the beads of precome that were beginning to form at the tip of Dean’s dick again, “you’re sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Dean nodded, already adjusting to part his legs farther and make things easier for Cas, "really, I'm sure it's okay." Because it may have been a while, but he very well remembered the kind of pleasure that Cas could milk out of his prostate; and as much as he wasn’t generally comfortable with full-blown bottoming, unless he was in a very specific mood, this was just a couple of fingers. He could handle a couple of fingers. Besides, he knew all he had to do was say the word and Cas would stop.

Cas watched him shifting around with a little, amused smile on his face, then glanced up to take in Dean’s expression before deciding it was safe to go on and ducking in to suck his cock back into his mouth again, beginning to bob his head even as he slid his hand in again and brushed along Dean’s entrance, urging him to relax for a moment before carefully, gently pushing his index finger into his boyfriend’s body.

And God, he remembered that feeling; remembered it around his own cock, Dean’s body like a vice wrapped in slick, hot silk, and for a moment he considered pulling off of his lover’s dick and trying to convince him to go all the way. Because Dean had felt amazing both times he had let Cas have him in the past—but he had promised, just two fingers, so no matter how much his own body was craving it, Cas would stick to just those two fingers. The last thing he wanted was to break Dean’s trust in any way again, not after the last time. The seven years gone.

Dean just grunted softly and adjusted his hips when the first finger breeched him, trying to focus on the blowjob Cas was also giving him, though it was hard, all things considered, and even harder a moment later when Cas pushed the second finger into him as well, easing deep and crooking them, feeling around until he found—

“A-ah!” This time when Dean jolted, it was with a sharp cry in the back of his throat because Cas had found his prostate and started pressing on it mercilessly the second it clicked that he’d located that magic little button, rubbing and bumping up against it with both fingers until Dean was writhing and—oh, yeah, now he definitely remembered the upside to bottoming. Or semi-bottoming, in this case.

The rest went rather quickly, considering how little experience Dean had with having his prostate manipulated and how enthusiastic Cas’s blowjob had become. The angel was sucking up and down his cock, wet and sloppy now, even as he continued rubbing and pressing at the soft little spot inside Dean that made him twitch and moan outright, so much louder than he normally was when they had sex.

Eventually, Dean’s hips began to jerk upward into Cas’s mouth, pushing deep with each thrust, and Cas just pushed harder at Dean’s prostate in return—until Dean came with a hoarse shout, spilling himself down Cas’s throat. Cas gulped everything down hungrily, then pulled off of Dean’s dick with a soft pop and ever-so-gently eased his fingers out of his boyfriend’s ass as well, wiping them on the blankets absently before crawling up to tuck himself into Dean’s side once more.

“Good?” He asked, still swallowing against the slippery feeling of come. He brought one hand up to rest over Dean’s chest, feeling how fast the man’s heart was still beating with a pleased sound in his throat. “Sorry to spring that on you, it was just an idea to help you relax the rest of the way, you know?”

“Oh, I get it. And it worked.” Dean gave a little laugh and wrapped an arm around Cas’s waist, then asked, as Cas had privately predicted, “but what about you, though? Do you want me to…?”

But Cas shook his head with a hum. “I’m okay. You can get me next time.”

Dean chuckled again. “I definitely will, that’s for sure.”

--
--

That night, after dark, they went to a local diner for food and discussed the upcoming spell situation in length but also in hushed tones because anyone could have been listening. The Problem Coven apparently had eyes everywhere, or at least that was what it seemed like.

When Dean and Sam were done eating, and Cas was finished his fourth cup of diner coffee (it actually wasn’t half-bad; some diners had terrible coffee and this one had better than most), Dean paid their bill, and they headed back to the motel where all of their spell ingredients and instructions were waiting for them. At some point during the course of the day, Sam had even made a foray out to buy a metal bowl (plastic was ill advised as they would be setting the whole thing on fire at the end) and dug the mortar and pestle out of the trunk of the Impala. (That was one thing they used so often they just carried one around with them.)

During their discussion at the diner, they had decided that Sam should be the one to perform the spell itself, as he was by now more than familiar with its’ ingredients and instructions, having spent most of the afternoon going over and over them in his room while Dean and Cas had been… otherwise occupied. The only thing he needed from his brother and Cas were locks of their hair (to go along with a lock of his), which had something to do with locking in on the coven that was locked in on them. A piece of each of them was necessary, though Sam wasn’t entirely sure what tossing an angel’s hair into the mix would do. But if Neave had been concerned about that, she probably would have mentioned it, right?

So, when they got back to the motel, Sam took a brief side-trip to his room to gather everything up, then met Dean and Cas in their room, where he started setting everything out in a specific order, then adding it to the bowl in just as specific an order. He handed Dean a knife and Dean nipped off a little lock of his own hair and handed it over, then did the same for Cas, who thanked him quietly. Dean just smiled and set the knife back on the table for Sam for later on—when the blood had to be added, thankfully just from one of them this time. Dean was pretty sure angel blood would blow up any spell.

The rest was easy; crushing or powdering a few things with the mortar and pestle and adding them to the mix, then tossing in the hair, and Sam cut his palm to bleed a trickle of blood into the already ungodly mix of ingredients. He quickly wrapped his hand in a bandana after that and got to reading out the incantation—and followed that up by tossing a lit match into the bowl.

And then everything exploded.

One second, they were standing around, working a perfectly good spell, and the next the room was full of noxious smoke, spilling from the bowl sitting in front of Sam. Dean waved his hands in front of his face to try to clear the fumes while Sam grabbed the bowl and fumbled his way through the smoke to dump it in the kitchenette sink and run some water into it.

And that was when Dean realized—

“Cas, how old do I look right now?”

“Dean—”

“How old?”

“…eighteen? Maybe nineteen?” Cas hazarded, then swallowed slightly before adding, “probably about the same age I look right now. And I’m not—” He tried to reach out beyond his current physical form, to feel for his wings, to call his angel blade, to turn on Angel Radio, but none of it was there. “I’m human right now. I’m human, Dean.”

“Ahem.” A distantly familiar voice said from across the room, and when the two of them turned to look they were confronted by a very fourteen-year-old Sam still running water into the sink. “You think you’ve got problems.”

“Jesus, Sammy.” Dean headed over and did a quick inspection of his brother, then sat down heavily at the table. “What the hell happened?”

“No idea. Something got screwed up, obviously.” Sam was already reading through the spell papers intently, picking through the little bags and bottles to make sure the ingredients and amounts had been correct, muttering to himself under his breath as he did so. All Adult Sam habits, but then they all still apparently had their adult memories, so that made sense.

“Okay, are we just… de-aged? Or have we fully pulled a Back To The Future, here?” Dean asked.

A valid question. Even Cas got that movie reference. And looking around the motel room that obviously hadn’t changed an iota in at least thirty years wasn’t going to help them figure it out. Normally, Cas would be able to tell just by feeling the space around him, but with him being human at the moment, not so much. Cas went to the door and pulled it open, stepping out into the night and looking off down the street. All the shops and cafes still appeared to be the same, which he doubted would be the case if they had jumped ten plus years into the past.

“I think it’s just us.” Cas came back into the room, closed and locked the door behind himself and crossed over to the sink where the bowl was somehow still coughing out smoke. He glanced around for a smoke detector—and when he located it, he dragged a chair over to stand on and reached to pull it down off the ceiling, quickly turning it off. (It was a wonder the thing hadn’t started wailing the instant the bowl exploded.) Then he returned the chair to its’ proper place before wandering over to open the bathroom window. That done, he returned to the table again and took a seat.

“I know this is a bad time,” He said into the silence of the room, “but can we order a pizza or something? I obviously didn’t eat at the diner, and I’m starving.”

“Shit, Cas, you’re human again.” Dean seemed to finally make the realization, and dug for his wallet to pull out one of his credit cards and hand it over to the former-angel, “order whatever, but—”

“I know, no vegetables.” Cas took the card, then stared hard at Dean until he also gave up his cell phone and spent the next few minutes looking up pizza places in town before finally just picking one at random and calling to make the order. That done, he returned Dean’s credit card and phone with a mutter of, “I literally haven’t eaten in years, and it feels like it. It’s been since I moulted.”

“That wasn’t even two years ago.” Dean told him with a little smile.

“You try not eating for two years and see how you feel.” Cas retorted.

“He’s got a point, Dean.” Sam piped up. He was still pouring over the spell in front of him, a deep frown on his face.

“Yeah, I guess…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, then down to his jaw and was almost surprised by how smooth it was—just the way he’d kept himself trimmed back when he was a kid. He glanced over at Cas, green eyes flitting over the younger man and taking in how clean-shaven he was, comparatively, and how thin he was—more leanly muscled than the angel he was used to nowadays. He supposed the same could probably be said for himself, though. “God, Cas, you look…”

Cas glanced at him. “I look?”

“Just…” The elder Winchester shook his head. “Young. Really young.” Then a grin and, “and totally hot.”

“Ugh.” Sam protested, “please don’t start that right now. At least wait until I’m gone.”

“No, I’m just saying, I’m a damn lucky guy, that’s all.” Dean waved one hand in Cas’s direction, “I mean look at him, Sammy! And he’s been this hot the whole time we’ve been together. It’s crazy!”

“I feel like Sam probably would rather not think of me like that.” Cas commented idly.

“Yes, exactly.” Sam agreed. “No offense, Cas, but I’m really not into you that way.”

 Cas shrugged. “Likewise.”

“Good thing, too, because I would have had to physically fight you for him.” Dean put in.

Cas rolled his eyes and wandered over to where Dean was standing, easing close and lifting one hand to pat against the older man’s chest in a placating manner. “None of the people present here doubt that I’m yours, Dean.” He leaned in for a quick kiss, just brief and affectionate. “I’ve always been yours and always will be. No one else for me but you, remember?”

“And no one else for me but you.” Dean echoed with a smile. His arms came up around Cas and he angled for another kiss, but Cas avoided it with a laugh—right about the time a knock sounded on the door.

Cas perked up considerably and extracted himself from Dean’s embrace to hurry over and retrieve an extra-large pizza from the bored looking pizza delivery guy on the other side of the door. He thanked the man profusely, anyway, then quickly shut and locked the door and crossed the room to set the pizza on what little free space still remained on the table. Then he flipped the box open with no preamble and grabbed a piece to start eating ravenously while Dean watched in amusement and Sam just kind of raised an eyebrow.

“Remember to chew, Cas.” Sam advised, before going back to scrutinizing the spell paper in his hands intently.

Dean just shrugged and headed over to grab a slice for himself, sitting down at the opposite end of the table from Sam, and reaching to pull another chair out for Cas to sit while he ate. Cas mumbled a thank you around his pizza and sat down with the quiet sound of his trench coat shifting against the wood, already finishing off his first slice and reaching for a second.

The next little while was spent in semi-comfortable (if a little weird) silence, Dean and Cas eating and Sam scouring the spell and its’ leftover components until they finally convinced him to set it all aside and at least have some pizza with them before he went blind from staring at the paper too hard or something.

Once they were done eating, only two slices left in the box, they discussed their predicament for a little while before deciding that it was getting late, and they would probably be best served if Sam went back to his own room and they all tried to get some rest for the night before getting back at it. Sam agreed but nicked the spell pages from the table on the way out the door—he was probably going to be up most of the night despite knowing it would be bad for him, especially in his fourteen-year-old body, but that was Sam for you.

As soon as Sam left to return to his own room, the spell in his hand and a frown on his face, Dean locked the door behind him out of habit alone. When he turned back around, Cas was back into the last of the pizza, scarfing down another slice as if he hadn’t seen food in years—which, Dean supposed, was true, but the sight still made him chuckle as he crossed over and dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed to watch Cas eat with amusement in his eyes.

“Shut up,” Cas mumbled around a bite of pizza, “you don’t know what it’s like.”

Dean held up his hands placatingly, “I didn’t say anything.” And when Cas just grumbled as he continued to eat, Dean headed over to sit next to him at the table and leaned in to kiss by his jaw gently. “You’re adorable and I’m glad you’re enjoying your pizza.”

Cas finished off the slice he was working on and licked his lips absently, then wiped at his mouth with one hand and turned his head, ducking in for a quick kiss. “One more slice and then I’m yours. I’m almost done being starving to death, I promise.”

He was already reaching for the last slice of pizza in the box, and Dean just chuckled and lifted one hand to sift his fingers through the younger man’s hair affectionately. “I adore you.”

Cas paused at that, halfway to a bite of his pizza, and gave Dean a smile, soft and fond. “I love you, too, Dean.”

“More than pizza, though?” Dean asked with a grin.

“Right at this precise moment?” Cas rolled his eyes and went back to his food before muttering, “of course more than pizza, Dean.” Then he stopped again, and his lips quirked a little, mischievously; “but definitely not more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Dean laughed at that, and pulled at Cas’s hair, just a gentle tug before letting go and dropping his hand to rest against Cas’s leg lightly. “Naturally, never more than PB&J.” He agreed.

“Mmhm,” Cas finished wolfing his way through the last slice of pizza, finally slowing down when he got to the last handful of bites, and when he was done, he gave a contented sigh and closed the now-empty pizza box, then sat back in his chair, giving Dean another smile.

“Better?” Dean asked.

“Much.” Cas agreed, pushing to his feet after a couple of minutes of letting his food settle and shrugging out of his trench coat, draping it over the back of the chair, then following that up shortly with his suit jacket and tie, and toeing off his shoes as well. Reaching out, he took hold of one of Dean’s hands and tugged the older man up out of his seat. “Come on. We’re going to bed.”

Dean grinned. “I’m not really all that tired, Cas.”

Cas just smiled right back. “Who said anything about sleeping, Dean?”

--
--

Fifteen minutes later the two of them were stripped to the skin and tangled up together in the bedsheets, thoroughly enjoying themselves as they explored their young-again bodies and got reacquainted with them along the way. Both of them were the lean muscle and soft skin of youth, but while Dean was comparatively scar-free—even Cas’s handprint-brand was gone—Cas was bearing the long, dark scars along his left side and back almost to his spine from the disastrous (but successful) jorogumo Hunt their senior year in high school. Dean had to bite his lip to keep from complaining about them more than once.

“They’re just scars.” Cas reminded him gently when Dean spent a little too much time paying attention to them at one point, and just pulled his lover up over himself properly again, wrapping him up in his arms and dragging him into a kiss.

Dean looked as if he might protest—he had always protested when it came to Cas’s jorogumo scars—but then just sank into Cas’s chest and the kiss, deepening it and marvelling at the fact that Cas tasted of pizza—it had been a long time since he had tasted anything but coffee on his boyfriend’s tongue.

“You’re grinning,” Cas accused, breaking away from the kissing, hands dragging down Dean’s back to knead at the base of his spine gently, “why are you grinning?”

“You taste like pizza.” Dean laughed, “because you just ate pizza. Because you’re human right now.”

Cas rolled his eyes and smacked a hand against his side. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe,” Dean smirked, “but so are you. You’re seriously poking me in the hip right now.”

“I’m naked in bed with the most attractive man on the planet, what do you expect?”

“The most attractive man on the planet, huh?”

“Stop grinning like that. And yes. Or at least you are to me. And don’t pretend you didn’t already know that.”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed a soft, affectionate noise and ducked down to press a kiss against Cas’s chest, right over where his heart was beating. “And don’t you pretend you don’t know that I feel exactly the same about you…”

“Mmhm, we’re both pretty hopeless, aren’t we?” Cas chuckled and slid his hands to tangle his fingers in Dean’s hair, then tugged the other man up and into a proper kiss, even as Dean was smiling against his lips and murmuring, “I don’t mind so much, being hopeless for you. I’ve never minded that.”

And then they were making out again, kisses deep and slow, unhurried as hands wandered and their bodies moved against each other sensually, so much love between them it was practically palpable—until Dean bumped a knee up between Cas’s legs to rub his thigh against Cas’s obvious erection, making Cas let his head fall back with a sighing moan.

As he continued to rub up against Cas—deliciously, Cas was thinking privately—Dean dropped one last kiss against his jaw, then eased sideways a little and stretched one arm out and over the edge of the bed as far as he could to nick the strap of his duffle bag and drag it closer, fighting with the weight of the bag and the angle he was leaning at—and then tilting and falling right off the bed.

Dean landed on the carpet with a squawk and a thud to the sound of Cas’s positively delighted laughter. When he looked up, the younger man was peering over the edge of the bed, looking down at him with the most amused look on his face. Dean shot him a look of his own and Cas disappeared back over the edge of the mattress—but he was still chortling to himself, Dean could hear him. Dean just clambered back up onto the bed to give Cas a disapproving glare, which was somewhat undermined by the fact that his face was bright red.

Cas just smiled at him and tugged Dean back up and over himself with a laugh, “you know the lube was already up here, right?”

“You wouldn’t have reminded me of that before I fell off the bed?” Dean grumbled.

“That was pretty funny.” Cas pointed out, not unkindly, and then tugged him into another kiss, warm and affectionate and tinged with the slightest bit of amusement, still. When they parted a long moment later, he gave Dean a genuine smile and added, “you know I adore you, right?” Repeating Dean’s earlier words.

That seemed to placate Dean, and he sighed before settling over Cas properly and nuzzling in to kiss along his jaw, nipping gently here-and-there. He traded off their earlier exchange with: “I love you, too, Cas.”

“Mmm…” Cas arched into the kisses and nibbles, blue eyes closing over, and rocked his hips up into Dean’s, grinding them together heatedly. “Then make love to me, Dean. I want you to make love to me.”

Dean was halfway to biting at Cas’s ear but stopped at that and lifted his head to give Cas a fond look, then ducked in to kiss him gently. “Yeah, I think I can do that.” Then he slid sideways off the other man and quickly grabbed the lube when Cas fumbled for it and held it up for him to take, slicking up the fingers of his right hand before capping the tube again and dropping it on the nightstand. Then he returned his attention to Cas and kissing along his shoulder—and patted at one of his hips lightly. “Legs apart, Cas.”

It didn’t really need to be said. Cas knew how this went, every step, and the prep was one of the best parts; Dean was undeniably incredible at picking him apart and breaking him down until he was next thing to sobbing because it felt so damn good. Even the very first time, once he had found Cas’s prostate, without even really knowing what it was, he had latched on and not let go of that fantastic little spot until Cas had been begging him to stop—before he came just from that alone.

Now Cas just easily parted his legs, lifted and bent one knee (Dean was still splayed out against his other side, holding that one down) and licked his lips, reaching to pull his boyfriend into another kiss even as Dean slid his slick hand down to start stretching him out. First one finger, that felt almost like nothing at all at this point, just the faintest twinge of discomfort, and then the second; and that was when Dean began rubbing over Cas’s sweet spot, making the younger man gasp and arch and moan, one hand down and pulling at the blankets and the other up to tangle in Dean’s hair, tugging firmly as he rocked his hips down into Dean’s hand at the same time.

Dean chuckled, still kissing along Cas’s jaw and down to his shoulder, and then carefully tugged his hair out of the other man’s grasp and continued downward, trailing meandering kisses along Cas’s torso to mouth at his bellybutton and then duck to lick at his cock, red and throbbing against his stomach, even as he continued fucking Cas on his fingers—adding the third one and pressing hard and deep, stroking against his prostate firmly as he stretched him out.

Cas gave a loud cry at that and his free hand, the one not grabbing at the bedsheets, flew down to pull at Dean’s hair again. He shook his head against the pillows. “Don’t—don’t, I—damnit Dean, making love to me never starts with giving me head, you jerk. We always just fuck after that—besides, I’ll come too—a-ah!—too soon if you do that—”

Dean laughed again, ducking his head to lick up the underside of Cas’s cock and over the sensitive head again, but when Cas pulled at his hair once more, he just smirked and crawled back up the length of Cas’s body to kiss him properly again, sliding his fingers out of the younger man at the same time, making Cas utter a protesting whine against his lips.

But Dean was already easing himself in between his lover’s legs, settling there comfortably for just a breath before nudging forward to push into Cas’s body, slow and deep, filling him up fully and completely, until he was stuffed full of Dean’s cock and moaning lowly against the older man’s lips, lifting his legs to wrap them around Dean’s hips loosely.

After a moment of stillness, just breathing each other’s air, Dean began to move, bracing himself and rolling his hips into Cas’s, fucking into him slowly, deeply and sensually, pulling Cas into a series of long, deep kisses at the same time. And Cas kissed back with abandon, arching against the other man, arms wrapped around him and hands sliding against his skin, kneading in time with his thrusts.

Eventually their kissing trailed off, Dean trailing sloppy kisses along Cas’s cheek and down to bury his face in the crook of the younger man’s neck, panting there while Cas let his head fall back, lashes fluttering over half-closed blue eyes and gasping out soft little cries with every one of Dean’s movements inside him.

It was obvious that Dean was holding back, though, biting on his own lip and every muscle taut as he fought to keep from just pounding into Cas—to continue making love to him instead, as Cas had requested. So eventually, despite how much he was enjoying the slow, smouldering pace they were moving at, Cas took pity on his boyfriend and pressed his head back even farther to moan out, “God, ah… nngh, Dean…! Harder, please…! Harder…!”

Dean gave a short, breathless laugh against Cas’s shoulder, his thrusts slowing to a stop: “I thought you wanted me to make love to you…?” He panted.

Cas groaned and tightened his legs around Dean’s hips, pulling his lover even deeper into himself with the movement. “I did, ah... at first… I—I just changed my mind… now I, ah, want it harder…” He smoothed his hands up Dean’s spine to his shoulder blades—only to drag his nails back down, hard, a breath later, making Dean hiss in a sharp breath. “Fuck me, Dean…!”

It didn’t take any more convincing than that. Dean muttered a quiet “fuck, Cas” under his breath against the side of Cas’s neck and then levered himself up to brace on his elbows and give himself better leverage, and began moving again, fucking into Cas harder, faster now, pushing himself as deep as he could at the same time, purposefully grinding the head of his cock against Cas’s sweet spot as much as possible.

And Cas had to admit, as much as he had been in the mood for making love, Dean pounding into him instead didn’t exactly feel bad, especially with the constant attention to his prostate and his own dick rubbing heatedly along Dean’s abdomen as the older man moved over him, inside him.

Now he found himself throwing his head back and uttering sharp little “ah! ah!” sounds with every one of Dean’s thrusts, his hands grasping at Dean’s sides, fingers digging in hard, nails leaving little furrows behind as Dean ducked in to lick up the column of his throat and then pull him into a heated kiss, Cas moaning into his mouth the entire time and Dean swallowing the sounds ravenously.

When his legs began to slip, Cas hiked them back up around Dean’s hips, holding tight there as Dean continued fucking into him hard and fast for what felt like the longest time—until eventually the older man’s movements started to go jerky and he finally pushed himself deep into Cas and came with a groan muffled into his boyfriend’s shoulder.

They were both still for a moment after that—but not for long. After just the briefest of pauses to catch his breath, Dean reached with one hand to pat at one of Cas’s thighs, and when Cas unlatched his legs from around Dean’s hips, Dean eased out of him with another groan, then scooted down to take Cas’s still-throbbing erection into his mouth, beginning to suck heatedly.

“Oh… God…!” Cas arched back, one hand coming up to fist in the pillows by his head and the other flying down to grab at Dean’s hair, even as Dean reached with one hand to slide two fingers into Cas and push deep, rubbing firmly against his prostate as soon as he located it. “D-Dean…!”

“Mmph.” Came Dean’s reply, muffled around the cock in his mouth—and it really didn’t take long for Cas to reach the edge and fall over it, he had already been close and with the attention to his dick and his sweet spot? He came maybe two minutes later, head back and a sharp cry from the back of his throat while Dean swallowed down everything he had to offer.

When Dean crawled up the length of his body a moment later, Cas was still pleasantly boneless against the bed, slowly catching his breath, but he still smiled lazily when Dean dropped the smallest of kisses against his nose; and then kissed back when his boyfriend continued on to draw him into a long, deep, warm kiss to follow.

Then Dean slid to the side, sprawling half-over Cas to nose into his neck and rub one hand up and down his side affectionately. He winced a minute later, though, and lifted his arm up, craning his neck to glance down at his side with an amused look on his face. “You scratched the shit out of me, Cas…” Then, to clarify; “not that I’m complaining, just…”

“I scratched your back so you would listen to me about fucking me instead of making love,” Cas laughed softly and lifted one hand to smooth down Dean’s side, pausing to let his fingers touch gingerly against the scratches there. “I scratched your sides because it felt just—so good—I needed something to hold on to, you know?”

Dean chuckled and settled again. “Like I said, I’m not complaining. They don’t hurt much; they just sting a little.”

“I’m glad.”

“Mm. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You didn’t really change your mind, did you?” Dean hummed out softly, nuzzling into the crook of Cas’s neck while the two of them were still tangled together in post-coital bliss, so to speak.

“Mmm…” Cas made a soft agreeing noise and brought one hand up to thread his fingers through Dean’s still-sweat-damp hair. He chuckled quietly. “No, I was very into the lovemaking, but… it was obvious you were holding back just for me. Which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong, but I guess it turns out it’s more important to me that you get off the way you want to, hm?”

“Oh, come on,” Dean groaned, and wiggled against him slightly to settle in even more. “You can’t tell me that, now I feel selfish.”

“Don’t, though.” Cas trailed his hand out of Dean’s hair and down to rub at the back of his neck gently before bracing against his lover’s shoulder and pushing at Dean until the older man was on his back. Then Cas cuddled into his side and leaned in to drag him into a kiss. “I loved it anyway.” He informed Dean when they parted, before just ducking in for another kiss. “And I came so hard.”

Dean seemed placated by that fact, at least, and angled his head into the next kiss, long and deep; “I guess there’s that, yeah.”

Cas hummed out an agreeing noise, then kissed Dean again, then once more before dropping a little kiss against his chin, then down by his throat, just over his Adam’s apple, which bobbed as Dean swallowed thickly. Continuing downward, Cas trailed little kisses and licks, the occasional nip, over Dean’s collar bone to his chest, where he licked heatedly at a nipple, making a soft pleased sound in his throat when the little nub hardened and pebbled under his attention. He brought his hand up to toy with Dean’s other nipple until it was just as perked as the first before continuing lower.

“We just—” It wasn’t really a complaint.

“I know.” Cas murmured back.

But Dean tasted good, the salt of his sweat and the musk of his skin and just—everything. He hadn’t tasted his boyfriend like this in almost two years—since his moult, and he knew he had missed it; he just hadn’t realized how much until right this moment. But also… Dean’s eighteen-year-old body was comparatively scar free. It was like exploring a complete stranger, and at the same time someone entirely, if distantly, familiar. The experience was unique, to say the least.

Dean moaned softly when Cas licked into his navel, then moved on to suck a bruise into the little strip of flesh between there and his groin—one of Dean’s own favorite moves that Cas liked to steal on occasion, since it generally didn’t work on Cas anymore. Dean was already hard again under his chin, at this point, hot and throbbing, even so soon after them just having sex, and it was the work of a second for Cas to tilt his head down and lick over the head of his cock, long and slow, teasing at the slit, savoring the flavor.

Cas had gotten used to focusing more on textures, during oral sex, over the last couple of years, because those hadn’t changed even though everything tasted of its’ molecular makeups. Now, he took the time to swipe his tongue over the head of Dean’s swollen cock a handful of times, loving the taste as well as the feel of it against his tongue.

One of Dean’s hands dropped down to tangle in his hair and the other man tugged gently and groaned out, “Cas… c’mon… you’re teasing…”

“Not on purpose.” Cas murmured back, “just… you taste amazing… like you did years ago, when we first met, when we were together when I was still human. I missed it.”

Dean just chuckled breathlessly at that, even as Cas took one more long, savoring lick, and then eased the head of Dean’s cock into his mouth, beginning to suck—gently at first, then firmer, stronger as he slid deeper, taking more of Dean into his mouth as he went. And the flavor was still so good, against his tongue, down his throat, salt and musk and something undefinable but distinctly Dean; the taste of slick precome coating his mouth.

Dean had his head back and was moaning softly, now, the hand in Cas’s hair kneading along with the bobbing of his head as he slurped his way up and down Dean’s cock. This was an enthusiastic blowjob (though admittedly all of his blowjobs could probably be considered enthusiastic) and Cas put his all into it, sucking Dean off hot and sloppy, thoroughly enjoying it himself, too.

After a few long minutes, though, there were the telltale signs: Dean began to tense up, just a little, and his breathing became more erratic. His hand tightened down in Cas’s hair, and Cas just chuckled around the cock in his mouth because they may have been eighteen again, but Dean was still absolutely predictable. He redoubled his efforts, sucking harder, bobbing his head quicker—

Until a moment later when Dean gave one abrupt, sharp buck of his hips and came hard, flooding Cas’s mouth with salty come. Cas hummed out a wet, appreciative noise and swallowed down everything before carefully pulling off Dean’s sated cock, licking his lips and swallowing a couple more times against the slippery feeling of come in his throat.

“…oh, fuck, wow, it’s good to be young.” Dean panted out with a laugh, even as Cas crawled up the length of his body and drew him into a warm kiss before sliding sideways onto the mattress and cuddling into Dean’s side once more.

“It’s good to be human.” Cas corrected, licking his lips absently again and tasting nothing but Dean on his tongue. He was hard again himself, but they could deal with that once Dean had taken a minute. Or several. “But you and I are having two very different experiences, here. Sex is tiring now that I’m not an angel. I’d forgotten how much energy it takes. You, on the other hand, seem to have more… pep, than usual. Then again, you always had a lot of energy when we were younger…”

“I still have a lot of energy, I’m only thirty-two.” Dean protested, one arm coming up around Cas’s shoulders and more than aware that Cas was poking him in the hip.

“That’s true,” Cas allowed, “you’ve always been particularly energetic and… virile.”

“Hey, I like what I like, and I like sex. Particularly with you.” A grin and Dean rubbed a hand along Cas’s side almost absently before commenting, “I didn’t miss the jorogumo scars on you, though. Seeing them again isn’t the best.”

“I know, Dean.” Cas sighed, tipping his head to kiss by Dean’s jaw gently. “But I survived. The scars are proof of that. And anyway… it’s weird for me, too, seeing you like this. You have scars right now that I haven’t seen in years, since I pulled you out of Hell. And all the ones I’d gotten used to, the newer ones, are gone now…” He trailed off briefly before murmuring, “…my handprint. It’s strange.”

“Hey, Cas?”

“Mm?”

“Do me a favor?”

“Of course. Anything.”

Dean tightened his arm around him just slightly. “While we’re like this, don’t do anything stupid or brave. Don’t get yourself hurt. The time with the jorogumo damn near killed you and me, and I don’t want either of us to go through that again. Alright?”

Cas smiled, just a little, fond quirk of his lips. “Alright.”

Then he leaned up to kiss Dean again—and again—drawing him into a series of deep, slow kisses that Dean returned in kind, until Dean ducked in for another kiss, slow at first but increasingly heated as he pushed Cas down onto his back and rolled over on top of him, one hand sliding down to palm at Cas’s hard-on, making him moan softly. He trailed kisses from the corner of Cas’s mouth down along his jaw and murmured, “you ready for me again, Cas?” His own cock was nudging at Cas, now, too, miraculously ready for another round already; “I’m ready for you.”

“This’ll be the third time for you, Dean…!” Cas’s head fell back, and he gave a delighted laugh, as if they hadn’t done marathon rounds like this before. “Maybe it is good to be young…!”

Dean nipped at his ear and nudged at one of Cas’s legs, easing himself to settle in between them. Cas lifted his legs to wrap around Dean’s hips, pulling him even closer and making Dean suck in a sharp breath before carefully pushing his cock into the younger man’s body, easily and deep, with no additional prep—none was needed, Cas was still slick and stretched out from the last time, only a short while ago.

Cas still had his head back against the pillows, and his lips fell open, a sighing moan from his throat when Dean entered him again because—fuck—it felt perfect. It always had, right since the very first time, awkward as that had started out. Lifting his arms, he wrapped them around Dean, fingers digging into his back lightly (though he tried to make a point not to get his nails involved this time), and managed in a breathless laugh, “Sam should be glad… he still has a separate motel room…!”

“Especially since he’s only about fourteen, ah… right now… no kid should see this…” Dean chuckled, before burying his face in Cas’s shoulder and beginning to move his hips, thrusting into his boyfriend with firmness and surety, but also in a slow, heated rhythm, his breath beginning to come harder, hot against Cas’s skin.

Cas could only continue to leave his head back, moaning, and arch into the feeling, his fingers digging harder into Dean’s back as the older man began fucking him for real—but not as hard as earlier. Earlier has bordered on rough on both their parts. Now was just moving against each other deeply, firmly and hotly.

It was perfect, as far as Cas was concerned—but then sex with Dean was almost always perfect, to Cas—and he just arched up against the older man, loosening his grip on Dean’s back to slide his hands down to the base of his spine, loving the feeling of his lover’s muscles shifting and bunching under his fingers. It was a little thing he had always enjoyed, right since the very first time.

For Dean, Cas was like hot silk around his cock, and he felt perfect. Once, years ago, he had told Cas that he didn’t prefer women or even other men (not that there had been any), he just preferred him, and it was true: with all the women he had slept with over the years, both before he’d met Cas and after, none could compare at all to how it felt to have Cas under him, around him, in his arms.

A lot of it was emotional, even he could see that, and Dean was sure that Cas would agree. The depth of their feeling for one another was part of what made the sex between them so freaking fantastic. But they had always fit together particularly well, physically. Like puzzle pieces. Like they were made for each other, they had once said, and as far as Dean was concerned that still held true, even after everything. Maybe because of everything.

“Hey…” Cas’s hand slid up to cup his jaw and he swallowed slightly before asking, “where, ah, were’d you go just now?”

Dean hadn’t realized he’d kind of spaced out a little. Right in the middle of sex. That was embarrassing. Now he adjusted himself to pick up his rhythm again, making Cas moan and let his head fall back once more, and turned his own head to kiss against the other man’s palm before ducking to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “Nowhere, I’m still here with you, just… fuck, Cas… just thinking about—about when we decided we were… a-ah… made for each other, that’s a-all…” And then, a moment later; “still feels like that to—to me.”

Cas gave a breathless laugh at that, even as he tightened his legs around Dean’s hips to pull him closer, deeper. “Feels like that to… ahn… to me, too, Dean… you always feel perfect… like a—a part of m-me…”

A part of Dean wanted to immediately protest that he hadn’t meant just sex—that to him Cas was just as much a part of him when they were sleeping together and eating together (when Cas was human, anyway), cuddling and going on dates and annoying Sam, or doing research and fighting monsters. Everything. Cas always felt like a part of him, and always had, right from when they had first met, so many years ago.

But he could convey all that later, when he wasn’t balls deep in his boyfriend and fucking into him in hot, firm thrusts. When Cas wasn’t arching and writhing under him, clutching at him and panting and gasping desperately, breathlessly, beautiful beyond words—beyond belief.

So, he just focused on what he was doing, and reached a hand up to drag Cas into a series of long, deep kisses, pouring all of his love and emotion into them until they both had to break away to gasp for air, hips working harder, faster now as they worked each other to completion, Dean mouthing hotly along Cas’s throat just to lick a stripe back upward and bite at his ear.

Cas was head back and moaning again now, rolling his own body along with Dean’s rhythm, heated and desperate as his cock rubbed against his boyfriend’s abdomen, slick with precome, and his hands dragged up and down Dean’s back, fingers kneading at the base of his spine briefly before moving on, digging in slightly. And Dean just took everything he was given and adored every minute of it, was overwhelmed by it, returning the affection—both physical and emotional—in kind—

Until a few short minutes later when they both began to peak and Dean’s thrusts grew jerky and harsh, and Cas’s hips began to rock harder, his hands grasping at Dean’s back more desperately, and they fell into another series of breathless kisses, all tongues and teeth and panting against each other’s lips.

Cas came first this time, arching sharply and throwing his head back with a harsh cry, breaking off from kissing Dean to pant heavily as he tried to catch his breath—but he kept working his hips, even as Dean’s thrusts turned sharp before the older man plunged into him one last time and came deep, deep inside his body, absolutely flooding him with come.

They were both stiff and taut for a long moment after that, and then Cas sagged back, and Dean collapsed over him with a huff. Cas sighed out a breathless hum in the back of his throat, hands still smoothing up and down Dean’s spine lazily and eyes closed as he listened to his boyfriend pant softly. And then—

“Oh, Jesus, fuck…” Dean was really embracing the cursing today. Now he carefully pulled himself out of Cas and fell onto his back beside the younger man, one hand up and running through his own damp hair. “I think I’m officially done for tonight… wow… Cas, you are freaking incredible, I cannot overstate that.”

“I, ah… I try.” Cas took a few more panted breaths of his own and then sat up and scooted over, leaning down to lick the smears of come up from Dean’s abdomen and chest quickly, making the other man give a little, almost protesting groan—but when Cas was finished and sitting back, licking his lips and enjoying the taste, Dean pushed him back down and did the same for him. So that they were both at least moderately clean before they settled in for the night.

Once Dean was finished, and before his dick could get any more ideas, Cas waited for him to settle again before easing over and tucking into his side, humming out a happy sound when Dean’s arm came up around him a moment later. Then he tossed one of his own arms over Dean, across his ribs, and nuzzled in contentedly.

“Don’t even think I won’t be fucking you senseless before we even go for breakfast tomorrow morning.” Dean told him, grinning up at the ceiling. “Because we are doing this as much as possible until we figure out how to reverse this spell.”

“To be fair,” Cas said with a smile and a little yawn, “we already did this as much as possible before the spell.”

“You have a point.” Dean conceded, but then added; “but right now it feels… nostalgic, maybe? I dunno, it just feels…” When he couldn’t think of the exact right words, he trailed off, then; “besides, you are thoroughly enjoying yourself, it’s obvious. That was possibly the best blowjob you’ve ever given me, and that’s saying something.”

“Mmm…” Cas hummed softly, then began shuffling around, pushing up to reach across and turn the bedside lamp off and then pulling the covers up around them before settling into Dean’s arms again. “It’s the flavors, it’s… the taste of your skin, and your cock and your come. The taste of you. You taste so good right now. It hasn’t been like this since I moulted. I’d forgotten how much I missed it.”

“Yeah, you did seem to be enjoying my, ah… come. A lot. Then again, you always seem to enjoy that.” Dean chuckled and ducked to kiss against Cas’s hair. After a pause he sighed softly and said, “hey, you know when you said it feels like I’m a part of you? Well, I… I feel the same way. But not just about sex. About everything. You’re a part of me, Cas. Like one of my limbs. Like my heart. You always have been.”

Cas smiled into the darkness of the room and let one hand drift along Dean’s ribs warmly. “I know.” He replied simply, “it’s the same for me. You’re like… you’ve been my wings, you know? Even before I had them back.”

“Your wings?”

“Mn. You keep me safe; you keep me warm; you lift me up and protect me; catch me when I fall.” Another little quirk of his lips when he thought back to his moult, and he added; “you can give me intense pleasure when I want you to. And I definitely want you to.” He glanced up at Dean through the dark. “You’re such an intricate part of me that I can’t imagine living without you. I don’t know if I could anymore.”

Dean gave a soft laugh and kissed against Cas’s hair. “I’m your wings, huh? How come you always outdo me when we talk about stuff like this?”

Cas’s lips quirked slightly. “I’m better at words than you are.”

Dean made an indignant sound but didn’t actually protest. Instead, he just settled in even more and gave Cas a little, gentle hug. “We need to get some sleep. ’Night, Cas. And hey, have good dreams, alright?”

Cas smiled and closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Dean. I’ll try.”

--
--

Cas did, indeed, have pleasant dreams, just like always when he was human and Dean was with him—dreams about wearing a set of scrubs (for some reason) and playing board games with Dean, frustrating the hell out of his boyfriend until Dean next thing to flipped the table—and the next morning at practically the crack of dawn, when the sun was barely cresting the horizon and the birds were just beginning to chirp their morning greetings to the world, Dean was sitting up with his back against the headboard of the bed, Cas straddling his lap, pressed close against his chest, the younger man’s hips rocking as he rode Dean’s cock heatedly.

This was exactly how Dean had predicted the morning would start and he hadn’t been wrong—and Cas wasn’t complaining. Instead, he was fucking himself on Dean’s cock, movements slow and hot, arms around his boyfriend’s neck, Dean’s hands heavy on his hips, guiding his motions, and the two of them kissing passionately, panting and gasping against each other’s lips in-between.

This way of having sex was slow, sensual, and perfect for the sleepy early morning hours; not quite fucking but not quite making love either, just the two of them as close as they could get and thoroughly enjoying each other’s bodies; Dean’s throbbing cock deep inside Cas’s body and Cas’s own erection rubbing against the ridges of his lover’s abdomen. And they may have been eighteen again, but back then they had never been as good at this as they were now. Practice made perfect and all that.

“God, Cas… fuck, harder…” Dean’s voice came out rough and his fingers dug into Cas’s hips a bit more, enough that they would likely leave little, purple bruises behind—and this time they wouldn’t fade away in an instant like they normally did. This time they would stay, a twinging reminder of their early-morning activities.

Cas just groaned softly against his lips and panted out, “Dean… you feel so—ah!—good—”

“I know, Cas, I…” A moan from Dean and he dragged Cas into another kiss, deep and hot, even as Cas slid one hand up to thread into Dean’s hair and knead there, pulling along with the movement of his own hips over the older man’s. “Fuck, you’re incredible… so—a-ah—so goddamn perfect…!”

A whine from Cas, who pulled away just enough to let his head fall back, mouth working silently and brows drawn together. He was flushed a pretty pink all the way from his face down his neck to his chest and the feeling of Dean inside him, at this angle, pressing up against his sweet spot almost constantly, with every rock of his hips, his own cock still rubbing against Dean’s abdomen at the same time… it was… it was… “God, it’s—it’s too good, I’m not going to last, I’m so close, Dean—!”

But despite his warning, Dean just grinned and chuckled breathlessly, then pulled at Cas’s hips, jerking him even closer, if it were possible. “Then, ah… come, Cas. Come for me. I fucking love watching—a-ah—watching you come…”

Cas made a protesting noise because what about Dean? But really, he was too far gone, and he knew it, so he dove in for another kiss, deep and hungry, and continued rocking his hips heatedly, fucking himself hard, until a moment later when he arched back and came with a sharp cry, painting both of their stomachs with sticky come, the fingers still tangled in Dean’s hair tightening and pulling harshly. And Dean just massaged at his hips and watched the entire show under half-lidded eyes, licking his lips at the sight.

When Cas finally slumped forward into his chest, panting breathlessly, Dean rubbed his hands around to the small of the younger man’s back and then up his spine gently with a chuckle, but was cut off before he could actually say anything when Cas hummed out a quiet sound under his breath, face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck, and just started rocking his hips again, determined to work Dean to completion as well. The other man was still hard as a rock inside him, after all. It would be rude of Cas to leave him hanging, right?

Dean groaned and started to protest—“Cas, you don’t have t—!“—but Cas made a soft negative noise and just started rolling his hips harder again, tugging at Dean’s hair and pressing a lazy kiss against his shoulder. Dean gave up his weak complaints easily, head falling back and hands returning to Cas’s hips, holding there tightly. “Fuck, ah… Cas, yes…! God, you feel so…!”

“I know… I’ve got you…” Cas murmured into the side of his boyfriend’s neck, repeating words Dean had said to him so many times in the past and kissing against where Dean’s pulse was racing. Pushing back, he untangled his hand from Dean’s hair and reached back to brace his hands against Dean’s thighs just above his knees, arching his back and licking his lips. He continued rolling his hips down against Dean’s, and he couldn’t help moaning breathily—the constant pressure on his prostate still felt incredibly good, though his own cock remained limp after coming only a moment or two before.

It took a surprisingly long while to work Dean up to his own orgasm, but then again, he didn’t have a cock rubbing against his prostate the entire time, either. Cas attributed that to why he had come so soon, himself, and also maybe because it was early in the morning and his body was still sensitive from sleeping for the first time in two years. In any case, he kept working his own hips, fucking himself on Dean’s dick, head back and panting softly while Dean watched him the entire time—until his own cock began to twitch and fill out again, and he gave a little protesting groan because that wasn’t what this was supposed to be about, damnit body.

Dean just offered a breathless chuckle, though, and reached to slide an arm around Cas’s waist properly, the other still firmly holding at his hip, and pulled him forward once more, up against his come-spattered chest and into a kiss, deep and heated, before trailing meandering kisses back to his ear and biting on the lobe there lightly. “This time… a-ah, fuck… this time we’ll come together… yeah…?”

Cas uttered another little whine, but nodded regardless, biting on his own lip and bringing his arms up and around Dean’s neck again because that plan actually sounded pretty fantastic to him right about then, thank you very much.

Dean’s arm tightened around Cas’s waist and his lips trailed along the younger man’s jaw—and then he started rocking his own hips upward, just gently, to meet Cas’s movements, even though it was a little awkward for him in their current position, and the added pressure of Dean thrusting into him made Cas bite back a wail. Right then, in that moment, he felt so much more sensitive than usual, and it was…

“God, Dean…” He gasped out and buried his face in Dean’s shoulder as they continued to move together, hot and passionate and messy, now; “was I always… ah, yes…! …was I always this sensitive… back when I was h-human…?”

“Yeah,” Dean gave a low, breathless chuckle, “it’s always been, ah, easy to push your buttons… right since Day One… and… h-hate to break it to you but being an angel hasn’t changed that a bit, either, ah—shit, Cas, don’t stop…!”

As if he had been considering stopping. Cas gave a wanton moan, muffled into Dean’s shoulder, and continued rolling his hips, fucking himself hard—and really, it didn’t take much longer. Dean had already been most of the way there, and Cas was so overstimulated from being fucked twice in a row with no break in-between that neither of them could help themselves.

This time Dean came first, tensing up under Cas, hands clamping down on him as he shoved deep and spilled himself into the younger man’s body; but Cas was only a few seconds behind him, biting down on Dean’s shoulder a little less than gently to muffle himself as he came with a sharp cry, come smearing in between them once more—and then Dean slumped back against the headboard and winced faintly when Cas undug his teeth from his shoulder, slumping against his mess of a chest and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

After a couple of minutes of harsh breathing between the two of them, Dean let his head thunk back against the wall and grinned up at the ceiling. “God, I freaking love early-morning sex.” He panted out.

Cas gave a breathless laugh, still half-muffled in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. “You love regular morning sex, too. And afternoon sex. And evening sex. And middle-of-the-night sex. You just love sex.”

“True. But early morning sex is…” Dean trailed off for a moment and trailed his hands around to smooth them up Cas’s back, making the other man hum contentedly; “mmm, it’s the best way to wake up, ever. Especially with you.”

Cas made a soft agreeing noise because Dean wasn’t exactly wrong, there, and then pushed back, lifting up on his knees to let Dean’s mostly limp cock slide out of him and then shifting to the side. Dean shuffled down so he was more comfortable, laying with his head on the pillows, and Cas adjusted as well, settling down and cuddling into Dean’s side with a sigh.

They were both quiet, just catching their breath for a few minutes, before:

“Do you remember the first time we did this?” Cas asked softly, a smile in his voice and on his lips, his fingers tracing abstract patterns on the come-spattered skin of Dean’s chest as they rested together. “Had sex, I mean. Back when we were just kids, like we are now? Sneaking around while my Father was out of town…”

“Neither of us had any idea what we were doing.” Dean chuckled, the sound rumbling under where Cas’s head was resting on his shoulder, “thank God you’d done all that research, or we’d’ve really been in trouble.”

“Your first time with another guy and my first time all together.” Cas agreed, “we needed all the help we could get.” Then; “it was humiliating at the time but looking back I’m glad my Father gave me the condoms and lube. I wouldn’t have even known where in the store to go to find them. Probably would have forgotten the lube entirely.”

Dean made an amused noise in the back of his throat, “and then I used way too much.”

“Better too much than not enough.”

“That’s true. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Cas tapped his fingers against Dean’s chest lightly. When he encountered a smear of come, he brought them up to lick at his fingertips absently. “We maybe lasted three minutes that first time. We’ve got significantly more stamina now, I think.”

“Practice makes perfect and all that.” Dean hummed and adjusted the arm around Cas so he could slide his hand up and sift his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “And we’ve had a lot of practice, at this point.” Then he paused before amending; “sometimes hot and quick is good, though.”

“Sometimes.” Cas agreed, tilting his head to press a kiss against a clean patch of Dean’s chest—and then trailing more kisses up farther, over his collar bone and along his neck to his jaw, then around to draw the other man into a kiss again. “I never regretted for a single second losing my virginity to you.”

Dean chuckled into the kiss, smiling against his mouth. “Both times?”

Cas pulled back to look at him in confusion. “Both times?”

“Mm. When you fucked me, the first time we switched, that counts too.”

“It—it does not! And even if it does, that means I took your virginity that time too.”

“You did. And it was amazing,” Dean agreed, angling for another kiss; “but that still makes it three to two for me.”

“Just because you’d had sex already before you met me…” Cas grumbled, even as Dean pushed him over onto his back. He went down easily, letting Dean settle over him and wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck to pull him down into another kiss. “You’re weirdly competitive about things sometimes…”

Not that there was anything Cas could do about this one. He only had so many virginities to hand over, and he’d already given them all to Dean. Not that he wouldn’t happily give over more, but he was kind of lacking in that department at this point—and Dean was in the same boat. With losing his own initial virginity to a girl before he’d even met Cas, it was always going to be an uneven score. Cas was fine with that, though, even if Dean liked to tease about those kinds of things sometimes.

Now, he just hummed into the kiss that followed, deep and slow and loving, and slid one hand up to thread into Dean’s hair, tugging gently. When Dean broke off to trail kisses along his jaw, then down his neck, Cas tilted his head and touched his fingers against the bite mark he’d left in Dean’s shoulder lightly. Dean hissed against the crook of his neck. “Still sensitive, Cas. You really bit me, there.”

“I know. Sorry.” Cas ducked his head to press a kiss against the mark, then licked across it gently. “Didn’t mean to…”

“Mm. I know you didn’t.” Dean agreed, smiling against his shoulder now. “Sometimes you just like to leave marks, too. This one will just last longer than most.”

“I’d heal you, but…” Cas trailed off and scrunched his nose up slightly. “Anyway, you left bruises, this time, too, and they won’t go away quickly like usual. I think we were both… enjoying our humanity. I remember bruises and other marks all the time, back when we were younger, before I was Called home…”

Dean rumbled a soft agreeing noise again, and one hand slid down Cas’s side to rub against the bruises on one of his hips gently. Cas made an uncomfortable noise and Dean chuckled but didn’t stop. After a moment he murmured softly, barely audible, “you know, after you disappeared, even after everything I went through trying to find you, even after I thought I gave up, I think there was a part of me that always believed that you’d be back some day… a small part of me that just couldn’t give up on you entirely.”

Cas made a surprised noise and slid his hand up to cradle Dean’s jaw gently. “Dean… after all that time…”

“Why do you think I still kept the bracelet you gave me, even if I couldn’t wear it anymore? Or the pentagram patch on my jacket? I think… if I’d completely given up on you, I would have gotten rid of those things,” Dean was mumbling into his shoulder, now, and Cas was staring at the ceiling, his thoughts racing—

—until he finally eased his hand back to thread his fingers into Dean’s hair and tug him up into a warm kiss. “You had faith in me all of that time. And it turns out you were right. That’s… that’s incredible, Dean…”

“Not really.” Dean returned the kiss, then angled his head for another one, and Cas sighed out a pleased noise, fingers kneading in the older man’s hair. “Not compared to what you did, watching over me for all those years from upstairs, pulling me out of Hell, dealing with all my bullshit when I found out you were back…”

“Faith.” Cas told him softly, drawing him into another kiss, “no matter how small, faith is a powerful thing.” Then a smile and he leaned their foreheads together gently, “thank you for believing in me, even if just a little bit, Dean. Knowing that… it means the world to me.”

“Probably would have meant more if you’d known it when I was being a spiteful bitch when you first came back.” Dean retorted, then grinned slightly, his hand going back to sliding against Cas’s skin, up and down his side. “But I… I’m glad it makes you feel better, to know that.”

“It does, definitely.” Cas agreed, then sighed and continued, “but you know, ah…” Dean was already kissing down the curve of his throat and lower to bite lightly at one of his collar bones, then easing farther to lick at one of his nipples, making Cas arch into the feeling, “we’re going to have to… mm… get out of bed some time today…”

Dean made a soft disapproving noise and slid his hand back down Cas’s side to rest by his hip, kneading there. “Says who?”

“Probably Sam, I imagine.” Cas quirked an amused smile, then allowed; “but I suppose we can keep doing this until he comes banging on the door. It’s still early, after all.”

The younger man could feel Dean smirk against his chest, and then Dean asked, “when he does, can I answer the door naked and probably with a hard-on?”

“What?” Cas laughed and smacked a hand into Dean’s side, then dragged him up for a kiss, “no you may not.”

“But the look on his little fourteen-year-old face!”

“Dean, no.”

“You’re no fun.”

Cas chuckled to himself and angled his head for another kiss, drawing Dean into one that was long, deep and full-bodied—and then shoved abruptly, rolling them until Dean was on his back and Cas was straddling him, making absolutely no effort to keep from rubbing up against his boyfriend in all the right places. “Mh…” He braced his hands against Dean’s abdomen, then slid his palms up the older man’s torso, through the come that was starting to dry and flake there, so he could cross his arms over Dean’s chest and lean his chin down on them. He rolled his hips into Dean’s with a hum. “Remind me again how I’m no fun?”

Dean groaned softly, his own hands coming up to rest against Cas’s hips, squeezing there firmly, making the bruises from earlier twinge. He licked his lips. “I, uh… I take that unfortunate statement back. You are definitely fun. So much fun. All the fun.”

“That’s what I thought.” Cas agreed and craned his neck to kiss against the dimple in Dean’s chin that he’d always found frankly adorable. “So, now. Do you want me riding you again, or would you rather be on top this time?”

--
--

When Sam did eventually come banging on the door, Dean and Cas were just exiting the shower (after thoroughly defiling it, if you could do such a thing to a shower) and Dean didn’t answer the door naked with a hard-on, but he did answer the door wet, and in a towel, which was the next best thing.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Sam complained. He had his laptop bag slung over his shoulder, his cell phone in one hand and his arms full of papers. So, the same as usual, just a mini version. “Can’t we go one day without the nudity!”

“Be glad you weren’t here half an hour ago.” Dean informed him with a grin, stepping aside to let him in the room. Sam stomped inside and Dean shut and locked the door behind him, then headed over to pull some (decently) clean clothes out of his duffle bag and start getting dressed. “Cas is still in the bathroom. I’ll spare you even more nudity and take his clothes in to him.”

“Thank you.” Sam heaved a long-suffering sigh as he dumped all his stuff on the little kitchenette table, then glanced over at his brother and absolutely clocked all the scratches marring his back—and the bite mark on his shoulder—before Dean pulled a shirt on. Sam just didn’t say a word and sat down on one of the chairs heavily. “Tell Cas to hurry up, I’ve got news on the spell front.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean moved around the room, gathering up Cas’s clothes before heading through to the bathroom and passing them off for his boyfriend to get dressed. He got a  mutter about wrinkles Cas could currently do nothing about and a kiss as thanks and returned to the main room to get the rest of his own clothing in order while Cas got dressed out of sight. “Sammy, can we go over all this at the diner? I’m starving and I’m sure Cas is, too.”

“I am!” Cas called from the bathroom, voice echoing a little.

“We used up a lot of energy last night and this morning.” Dean told Sam with a little grin.

Sam had started to get set up at the table but paused at that. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if counting to ten mentally, but then just started packing everything back up again. “Yeah, I should probably have something to eat, too.” Then he added; “but you know, unlike you guys, this isn’t like a second honeymoon for me, I’d really like to get back to normal ASAP. Unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately?” Dean asked from where he was pulling on the rest of his clothes.

But Sam shook his head. “It’s better to hear it from her. I’ll call Neave up when we get to the diner.”

Another minute or two of Dean and Cas drying off and pulling on their clothes and Cas emerged from the bathroom wearing his slacks and his shirt but not his suit jacket or tie—because Dean hadn’t seen fit to bring them in to him. When he went to pick them up and put them on now, Dean scooted over and wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist with a little protesting noise, insisting Cas looked better without them. A small argument followed, which Dean eventually won, and Cas dropped the clothing in question on the foot of the bed, then turned in Dean’s arms and pulled his boyfriend into a kiss that made Sam make a very immature face at.

When they finally left the motel, it was after Dean and Cas getting waylaid by a minor make-out session, after which Sam had raised his voice to the level of a shout and all but chased them out the door, leaving Dean to lock it securely behind them, chortling to himself the entire time. It was, indeed, good to be young. (He could also understand Sam’s frustration, though, being stuck at fourteen years old again probably sucked on more than one level. At least Dean was still of legal age and had Cas to keep him entertained.)

When he finished locking the door, Dean turned and held one hand out for Cas to take while they walked to the diner, their conversation as they made their way purposefully casual in nature—because really, they were both more than a little afraid of what Sam was going to drop on them once they got there.

“…burger, I assume?”

“And fries. What about you, Sammy?”

“Please don’t call me that right now. And chickenburger with a side salad.”

“You never ate like a kid even when you were one. Cas?”

“Pancakes and a side of bacon. Or lasagna, if they have it. Or just a burger. I haven’t decided. I want it all.”

“No such thing as just a burger, Cas.”

“I’m pretty sure there are burgers out there that qualify as just but okay.”

“Heathen.”

“Mmhm, Dean, I assume you want to get in my pants again, as they say, later on today?”

“You assume correctly.”

“Then I would refrain from calling me things like heathen.”

“Duly noted.”

When they reached the diner, Sam was making that face he had made in the past when he was disgusted with their flirting but couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Dean and Cas were still holding hands, though they let go when they entered the establishment, mostly because they had both experienced bigotry in the past and would rather not repeat the performances, especially with them currently appearing so youthful.

They found a private booth near the back exit of the diner and Sam immediately took over half of it with his laptop while they waited for a waitress to come by and take their drink orders. This time when the waitress came around, Cas ordered a glass of orange juice, since he could actually taste the stuff properly at the moment; Dean and Sam both stuck with their traditional coffee, though Sam got an odd look when he requested his, probably because of his outward age. She was gone again to get their drinks in a matter of seconds and returned just as quickly to set everything out in front of them and take their food orders.

Cas wound up ordering the waffles with a side of bacon, and of course Dean got his cheeseburger and Sam his chickenburger, and then the girl was gone to put their orders in with the kitchen. Cas’s mouth was practically watering at the thought of the food to come (he really had burned through a lot of energy the previous night and that morning; energy he wasn’t used to expending anymore)—that is until Sam set his cell phone on the table and tapped it a couple of times to bring up Neave’s contact number.

Dean and Cas exchanged a glance, then huddled closer toward the phone as Sam punched the number to dial, any formerly imperative hunger completely forgotten for the time being. It rang almost four times before Neave picked up with a hurried, “what, Sam, I thought we already talked about everything.”

“Uh, we did.” Sam agreed, “but Dean and Cas weren’t there for the conversation, so I thought you could give them the run down really quickly, if you don’t mind?”

“Jesus, I’m just on my way out the door…” There were some shuffling noises and then the sound of her obviously sitting down and setting a bag on something—probably a coffee table. She was quiet for a minute, Dean and Cas just waiting, before she huffed and said, “you guys fucked up. You never, never run a spell on a full moon unless it specifically calls for it!”

“Yeah.” Sam muttered dryly, glancing up at his brother and Cas, “apparently it was a full moon last night.”

“Full moons hold so much more sway over magic than other phases do.” More shifting and shuffling as Neave stood up and headed for the door, her cell still tucked under her ear, “doing a spell on a full moon can completely change the makeup of the spell—and the result, as you’ve seen.”

“Wait for it, the best part is coming up.” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“The only thing you guys can do now is wait; I’ll have to bring you a new batch of spell ingredients to reverse things, but you can’t do it until the next full moon, do you understand me? You are stuck like that for the month.” There was the sound of a door opening, closing, then being locked, and Dean and Cas stared at Sam’s phone as they digested this new information.

Finally, Dean demanded, “you told us to do the spell last night!”

“I forgot what day it was!” Neave told him; “what am I, the Lunar Cycle Fairy? I’m sorry, okay, but there’s nothing we can do about it until the next full moon. You’ll just have to make the best of it.  The good thing is, this spell probably changed your physiology enough to throw that coven completely off your tracks, so just go with it and take the month off. There’s worse places to have a vacation than Pontiac.” Then a pause and she added, “look, I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late. I’m busy the rest of the day but if you have any more questions feel free to call me tonight, okay? Bye.”

Then she just hung up, leaving Sam to give a long, long sigh in her wake.

Admittedly, the fact that this could finally throw off the coven on their tails—particularly Cas, since he had gone from angel to human—was a good thing, so they supposed in that regard the spell had done what they had wanted it to, just in a really round-about way. And for Dean and Cas, being stuck at eighteen, nineteen years old again was hardly a chore, with the exception that Cas had to be exceedingly careful during his time as a human. Dean didn’t want to see him getting hurt again. But for Sam, this next month was probably going to approximate torture for various reasons (though at least he did still have his own motel room.)

And Neave was right; there were worse places for a trio of Hunters—or two Hunters and one angel—to take a month-long break than Pontiac. They could easily lay low there for the entire time they were down-and-out. All of their credit cards (currently) still worked, so they wouldn’t starve or get kicked out on the street, and there was enough to do in Pontiac to keep Sam busy for at least a little while, anyway, even if none of them were “old enough” to go into bars for the time being. That wasn’t to say that Sam wouldn’t spend most of his time trying to figure out a work-around to the spell, anyway.

As for Dean and Cas, well… they had already proven that they could entertain themselves, and spending a month enjoying each other’s younger bodies wasn’t exactly going to be a chore, they just had to keep it away from Sam as much as possible to keep the younger Winchester from blowing his top. That was easy enough. And when they did need other things to do, they could take in the sights as easily as Sam could. It really was kind of like a second honeymoon for them, now that they thought about it.

A second honeymoon that included waffles and cheeseburgers (and chickenburgers on Sam’s side of the table) as the waitress finally returned with their food and spread it out in front of them. Sam shoved his computer off to the side and grabbed his phone to tuck it out of the way in his pocket, and despite his trepidations over the entire situation, he went to work on his lunch with just as much enthusiasm as Dean and Cas. The metabolism of a fourteen-year-old boy, it would seem. Plus, he had stayed up most of the night doing research. He could probably use the fuel at this point.

“So, the way I figure it is, we’ve got three choices.” Dean said a moment later, wiping his face with a napkin and lowering his voice. Cas and Sam both looked up from their food to hear that he was going to say. “First, we do what Neave suggested and just lay low for the time being, reverse the spell on the next full moon.” Sam made a soft disgruntled noise at that, and Dean waved him off slightly; “second, we take this show on the road and try to find our own counter-spell to fix this mess. Or third, we really take this show on the road and just pick up where we left off, you know, saving people, hunting things, put as much distance between us and this coven as possible. That one’s dangerous for Cas, though.”

“It’s dangerous for Sam, too. And you.” Cas protested around a mouthful of waffle.

“Yeah, but the two of us are still fully-trained Hunters under all this, and you’re—”

“An angel of the Lord? A warrior for heaven? You think I’ve forgotten all my millennia of training just because I’m human again?”

“Cas, come on, you promised me last night you wouldn’t do anything stupid while we’re still like this—”

“And I won’t!” Cas interrupted, voice low but insistent, “but that doesn’t mean I’m a useless civilian, either. You have to acknowledge that.”

“I—I do, I just—” Dean made a frustrated noise.

“You don’t want me to get hurt. I understand that. And I won’t. I’ll stay back as much as possible. But if something really serious comes up, I might have to jump in, and you have to be okay with that.” Cas set his silverware down and reached up to cup Dean’s face in one hand, giving him a little, reassuring smile. He brushed his thumb along Dean’s cheek gently. “I promise if anything happens, I’ll be careful, but that aside…” He sighed and glanced toward Sam; “I’m sorry, Sam, but I think it would be safest if we just lay low here until the next full moon. I know you probably want to get out there and work on the counter-spell, but with the two of us the way we are right now…”

Sam grumbled but took another bite of his chickenburger and chewed, swallowed before he sighed and reached for his coffee. The waitress had brought a ton of cream and sugar assuming a kid his age would want it, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. “No… you’re right. With you and me like this it’s not safe out there. And I can work on the spell thing with Neave, and over the Internet, I just have to be careful who I talk to. It’s… better if we stay here. Unfortunately.”

Cas had turned his attention to wiping at a little smear of ketchup by the corner of Dean’s lip and then dropping a kiss against his cheek before taking his hand back and returning to his food. “Thank you for being so reasonable, Sam.”

“More reasonable than you guys’ll be, you’ll probably spend most of this month having sex.” Sam groused into another bite of his burger.

Dean chuckled and grinned sideways at Cas. He couldn’t exactly deny it—but he couldn’t exactly help it, either. Human Cas was absolutely irresistible, and so enthusiastic, how was he supposed to say ‘no’? Not that angel Cas was any less irresistible. Just… Cas in general was irresistible to Dean, and no matter their forms they had a healthy sex life. It was best to leave it at that.

“You’ve got your own room,” Dean told his brother with a shrug, even as he reached over with one arm and slid it around Cas, then drifted his hand down to squeeze at the former-angel’s ass, making him jolt slightly against the table. “It’s even two down from ours so you can’t hear anything. And we’ll take breaks, you know, for food or to watch movies and stuff, you’re welcome to join in on those activities.”

“What, with you and your movie liquorice?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“And Maltesers!” Dean protested.

Dean had very specific ideas about movie snacks, and Cas had learned that early on in their relationship, back when he had still been human. Personally, he had never particularly cared one way or another, but he knew that Sam had his own very specific ideas about movie snacks. It could be an interesting conversation (argument), when it came down to it. Cas thought the only thing they might agree on was the popcorn, and even that Dean would want heavily buttered, and Sam would want lightly.

The good-natured bickering continued through the rest of lunch and Dean ordering a slice of peach pie, which he shared with Cas but didn’t offer to share with Sam (Sam would have turned him down, anyway.) Cas only had a couple of bites, his stomach comfortably full of waffles and bacon and with the knowledge that he had an entire month’s worth of meals to enjoy before he had to go back to tasting the molecular structure of things—unless Sam found another solution first. In any case, Cas was going to take advantage while it lasted.

Dean paid their bill and the walk back to the motel was mostly made in companionable silence, since everything had already seem said back at the diner. Sam seemed to be starting to fade a little after his all-nighter and when they got back, he excused himself to his room for a nap, hauling his shoulder bag with his computer in it with him. They didn’t think he’d even actually used that for anything at the restaurant, even though he had dragged it all the way there and back.

When Sam was safe in his own room and Dean and Cas were back in theirs, doors locked behind them, they both kicked off their shoes and crawled into bed together, Cas cuddling up into Dean’s side with a pleased hum. “We need to find a thrift store.” He told his boyfriend, “I only have this one set of clothes right now, that’s not going to last all month. I need a couple pairs of jeans and some t-shirts. Some more boxers.”

“Mm.” Dean agreed, “we’ll get Sam to do a search for us. He’s going to need more clothes too. But we’ll ask him later today, once he’s had some rest. Poor guy was up all night.”

“He wouldn’t be getting that sympathy if he wasn’t fourteen right now,” Cas pointed out, amused, and brought one hand up to toy with the front of Dean’s shirt, fingers catching in the fabric gently as he drew absentminded circles. “What do you think about all this, really?” He asked after a moment.

“I think it’s complicated.” Dean rumbled out a reply and tilted his head to kiss against Cas’s hair softly. “I think Sam hates it, and with good reason. I wouldn’t want to be stuck at that age, either. Too young to do anything. For us… we’ve got each other, but he’s kind of a solo entity, you know? He exists on our… our… fuck, what’s the word?”

“Periphery.”

“Yeah, that. But we’re so wrapped up with each other he gets forgotten half the time. And for Adult Sam that’s fine, he’s capable of going out and being with people, and even picking up chicks, but for Fourteen-Year-Old Sam…”

“We’re going to have to keep and eye on him?”

Dean made a soft agreeing noise. “As for us… I am worried about you, if something happens, I just can’t help that. But being eighteen again? With you? It’s fantastic, Cas, a blast from the past in all the best ways.” Then a pause before; “except the jorogumo scars, but we’ve been over that already.”

“We have, yes.” Cas agreed and pushed up a little to draw Dean into a warm kiss—and then another one when the first one ended, his hand splayed against Dean’s chest, now, kneading gently. “I think it’s a nice reminder, of how things used to be.” He murmured against Dean’s lips a moment later, “but I understand why you’re worried about me, the same as you always used to worry about me when we really were this age. As much as I have all the knowledge of being a warrior in my head, actually having the body to enact it is another story. So, I promise I’ll stay safe.”

Dean huffed out a little breath—then wrapped Cas up in his arms and rolled him into his back, settling over him with a smile and making Cas laugh in the process. The younger man lifted one hand to thread into Dean’s hair and Dean leaned into the touch before leaning down for another kiss. “I love you.”

Cas returned the kiss in kind, warm and loving. “I love you, too.”

The rest of the month was spent basking in that love, eating as much food as possible, and dragging Sam into possibly too much ‘quality sibling time’ that he appreciated more than he let on. And at the end of the month, Neave met them again and this time walked them through the spell to turn them back, and all went according to plan.

Dean and Cas were somewhat sad to see it all go. Sam was not.

THE END