A/N: Thank you so much to everyone reviewed. You all get Castiels in the mail. You're so awesome. Words cannot express. When I try, it comes out like dnadoiierohgjrjajonva;;lwascdeeticm.
Now for the sad news: This, my friends, is the last chapter. Which is why, for a very limited time only, I am offering a very special deal to anyone who reviews: a Castiel AND a Dean Winchester, absolutely free! These prices won't be stay this low forever, folks. Come and get 'em while they're hot *wink*. If you haven't yet done so, and even if you have, please review and let me know what you think. You're all I've got, people. My cats haven't learned to read yet, and I don't exactly pass my slash fiction around at the dinner table. Please fuel my strange addiction to writing stories about a badass hunter necking with an angel and review.
So, without further delay, the very... *sob* last chapter.
New A/N: Son of a bitch. For some reason, the stupid document manager won't let me put a ? and a ! right next to each other; it erases the ! every time I save the document. So, I have to put a weird awkward space between them. So sorry, guys.
When Sam was mad, he liked to watch the Discovery Channel. It was something he'd picked up at Stanford, and he'd never quite shaken the habit. You just couldn't stay mad when you watched the Discovery Channel. Right now, he was tuning in to "How It's Made" and learning how they make bathtubs. Why? Oh, because his stupid brother had dashed out of the diner after his angel and stiffed him with the bill. That wouldn't have even been so bad, though, on its own; they pretty much shared their money, anyway. It was having to babble a hastily concocted excuse for Dean's absence at a confused teenage girl who had managed to scrounge up a slice of apple pie and heat it up special. That was what put Sam in a bad mood.
By the time he'd gotten outside, the offending pair was long out of sight. Dean had probably chased Castiel all the way back to the motel so he could corner him and force him to accept his apology. Sam had shaken his head and returned to his own room. After stewing for a little and muttering to himself about his assface of a brother, he'd succumbed to the inevitable. He'd kicked back on his bed and turned on the telly, letting the pleasure of absorbing totally useless knowledge placate him.
And now, a couple in the room next door was starting to get frisky, moaning and thumping and just being nuisances. Sam just sighed heavily and turned up the TV. He was used to paper-thin walls and amorous neighbors, but did it have to be tonight?
He watched a super-heated sheet of ceramic lower onto a mold. Ohhhh, he thought. So that's how they do it. I will definitely never need to know this. He basked in contentment.
Unfortunately, that was when the neighbors got really loud, so loud he could make out actual words. And then it got way, way, disgusting because –
Sam recognized the voices.
"Aw FUCK YEAH Cas, right there goddamn RIGHT THERE!"
"Oh God Dean yes, ungh yes OH GOD YES DEEEEAAAN!"
He was going to murder them. Whatever temporary insanity had him to think Dean and Cas shagging would be a good thing quickly evaporated in the face of friggin' nasty reality. The trauma could never be undone. Sam was scarred for life. He turned the TV up to its highest possible volume and prayed it would be over soon. A virgin could only have so much stamina, right?
Well, that "speck" of angel left in Cas must have been concentrated solely in his nether regions, because they were at it for. Goddamn. EVER.
Oh, they were going to die soooo slowly.
Dean and Cas lay splayed on the bed like sweaty, exhausted starfish. Dean's entire body was tingly and numb, like he'd somehow managed to short a circuit. Cas, meanwhile, was pretty much catatonic, glassy-eyed and only able to communicate in monosyllabic grunts. Dean knew it was only a minute before he went completely comatose.
"You're freakin' incredible, you know that?" Dean croaked. "So freakin' awesome."
"Uhnh," Cas grunted.
Dean was more than a little awed by Cas's performance. The dude was a stallion. He had some stuff to learn about technique, but the thing was that Cas paid attention and he was a freaking fast learner. And even though yeah, the beginning was rough and kinda awkward, and sex with a dude was hugely different from sex with a chick, they'd definitely gotten the hang of it. It was only going to get better from here.
Plus, if Cas's current state was any indication, Dean hadn't been too shabby himself. He was pretty dang proud of his ability to reduce Cas beyond the power of speech; he chuckled and filled in the blanks for his dumbstruck companion. "I'll take that as a 'Thank you Dean, I enjoyed that as well, you too are an epic sex god.'"
"Uhnhnh," Cas grunted affirmatively.
Dean rolled his head in Cas's direction. "Wanna just lay here for the next week or so?"
Cas's eyes were drooping closed. "Unh," he agreed softly.
With a fantastic summoning of his strength, some might even say superhuman, Dean sat up and retrieved the sheets from where they'd ended up at the foot of the bed and dragged them up over him and Cas. He tucked Cas in carefully, pausing a moment to lean over his sleeping face. Post-coital Cas was too goddamn adorable to be legal, with his pink cheeks and his long friggin' eyelashes and his swollen lips just barely parted. Why had Dean been so terrified, again?
Okay, so he was still kind of nervous about the whole "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family" thing. To be honest, it was going to take a lot more than an epiphany and several shots of Jack before he convinced himself that this Dean-and-Cas thing was going to work out. There was an ever-present hum of anxiety in the back of his mind that he wasn't sure he'd ever be rid of. And yeah, there was a moment there, at the very beginning, where he'd thought he might not be up to this challenge after all. But then he'd taken one look into Cas's trusting, patient, loving eyes and remembered who he was. Gay, straight, bi – didn't matter. He was Dean Winchester, dammit, and nothing in heaven or hell or anywhere in between could keep him from what he wanted. And what he wanted was Cas.
So Dean got him. Got him so well that the dude was passed out in his bed and totally dead to the world, looking all soft and peaceful and innocently debauched, and totally unlike the serious, intense, holy tax accountant Dean knew him to be. It made him want to do the single most chick-flicky thing he had ever considered doing. He hesitated, uncertain if he could live with himself.
And then Cas started snoring lightly, just the cutest and most angelic little snore in the world.
Hell, I'm going for it. I, Dean Winchester, am a big friggin' girl and cannot resist. I'll only do it this once. No one ever has to know.
Very gently Dean leaned down and kissed each eyelid, and then pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Night, Cas," he whispered. After a moment, he let the strange new words roll over his tongue. "Love you."
The next day dawned bright and far too early. They peeled themselves out of bed and climbed into the shower (and Dean tried to get to get up to hijinks in there, but even though Cas was clearly enjoying it, he kept batting Dean's hands away and grumbling "Dean. That is not conducive to getting clean," until he finally understood that Dean just did not give a rat's ass about cleanliness and gave in). By the time they managed to get dressed, Dean thought they should spend the day in the motel and make the 3,000 residents of Colfax, Washington deal with their vampire problem for one more measly day, but Cas reminded him that Sam would come looking for them eventually.
So they left the motel room, and Dean pounded on Sam's door. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" he bellowed. "Up an at 'em!"
Sam swung the door open, toothbrush in hand, and boy was he not happy – his face was like a thundercloud. "We are never rooming next to each other. Ever. Again," he barked, and then he slammed the door in Dean's face.
Dean stood there for a second, stunned. "So are you coming to breakfast or not?" he called.
"I'll be out in a minute," was the muffled reply.
"Meet you in the car, then."
Cas was staring at Sam's door, looking slightly perturbed. "He… is upset."
"He's throwing a bitch fit because we got loud last night," Dean explained. He threw an arm around Cas's shoulders and steered him towards the Impala. "Pay him no attention, Cas. Poor, dear Sammy suffers from an acute case of stickuphisass and these outbursts are… only to be expected," he elaborated in a patronizing but apologetic tone. "The only cure is to get laid, which, for Sammy, means that there is no cure. He needs our patience and understanding during this difficult time."
Cas simply looked puzzled and gave a slight nod. Dean knew from experience that that meant Cas had figured out that he was joking, but didn't quite get the joke. Dean grinned and couldn't resist giving him a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry about it. He'll get over it." He crossed over to the driver's side of the Impala and got in.
Just then, Sam jogged over and slid into the back seat. "How come we're taking the car?"
"Well, we can't go back to that diner ever again," Dean answered, nodding towards the diner down the street where they'd met the charming Mandy. "So we gotta cruise around and find a Jack in the Box or something." He turned the key in the ignition.
Foreigner blasted out of the speakers at top volume, making Dean jump a mile high. "FEE-EELS LIKE THE FIIIIIIIIRST TIME! FEE-EELS LIKE THE VERY FIRST TIME! FEE-EELS LIKE THE FIIIIIIIIRST TIME! FEE-EELS LIKE THE VERY FIRST TIME!" He scrambled to crank down the knob, hearing Sam's cackling laughter over the blaring music. Cas, God help him, had jammed himself into the corner between the seat and the door, his eyes like saucers.
"Oh, reeeaaal funny, Sam," Dean seethed, his cheeks hot. "Real mature."
"You – you should see your face!" Sam wheezed, practically doubled over. "Dude, you're bright red, like literally bright red!"
"You seriously got up early just to do that?" Dean demanded.
"No, I did it last night," Sam boasted, pleased as punch with himself. "Oh man, I got you so good."
Dean flexed his grip on the steering wheel and threw the Impala into reverse. You just wait, Sammy. We'll see who gets the last laugh, he mentally vowed. We'll see.
A few days later they were playing the same just-in-case stakeout game they had been a week ago. They'd wiped out the nest of vampires, but it couldn't hurt to make absolutely certain. Cas would have come with them this time, but he'd managed to sprain his wrist, and Dean had argued vehemently against him coming. "Sam and I can handle any leftovers," he'd insisted. "If something does happen, we're better off not having all our eggs in one Impala, anyway. You stay here and swoop in to rescue our sorry asses if we need it, just like old times."
Sam knew that Dean was actually worried that Castiel would seriously screw up his wrist if he came with them, and Sam agreed. The poor guy hadn't had a lifetime's practice of fighting with injuries, and he was more of a liability than anything else if he came with. So here they were, the two Winchester brothers, parked just beyond an old farmhouse in the heat of the afternoon.
Sam was in the back, mainly in the vain hope that it would be cooler if he and Dean weren't sitting in the same seat. All the windows were rolled down, but there was no wind, so it didn't help much. It wasn't even that hot outside, really; it was Washington, after all. It was just that, sitting in direct sunlight, the Impala soaked up the rays like a sponge, and they couldn't turn on the fan for fear of wearing down the battery. So Sam got in the back seat and tried to think cool thoughts.
That didn't work. Sam turned to the next best thing for taking his mind off the heat: getting a rise out of Dean. "So, I'm not sure how to phrase this…" he started.
"What?" Dean asked absently, only half paying attention.
"Well. Just out of curiosity." Sam struggled to keep a perfectly straight, nonchalant face. "Who's pitching and who's catching?"
The reaction was just as overblown as he'd hoped. "What the fuck is wrong with you? !" Dean exploded, yanking his upper body around so he could give Sam the full force of his livid glare. "Just out of curiosity? !"
"So you're catching," Sam deadpanned. And the grossness of contemplating that idea was so worth the steam that you could practically see coming out of Dean's ears. The man was going to pop one of those bulgy veins in his forehead if he wasn't careful.
"I AM – Wait a minute." Dean narrowed his eyes and pointed an accusing finger. "I see what you're doing. Tryin' to get me to say one way or the other." His lip curled in a sneer. "Well, I won't give you the satisfaction. I'm not playing your little head games, Sammy boy."
Sam rolled his eyes as if he couldn't care less. "Whatever, Dean. You don't have to defend your uber-masculinity to me. I'm pretty sure it's just as gay either way."
Dean opened his mouth to retort something, and then suddenly he stopped and closed it again. A small, smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Hey Sammy," he began coolly, tilting his head just slightly like an interesting thought had occurred to him. "Remember the last time we were on stakeout?"
Sam frowned. "Yeah. That was like a week ago."
Dean pursed his lips a little. "Remember what we talked about?" And then he threw a significant look at the seat, and looked back at Sam.
A creeping horror was growing in Sam's chest. No. They wouldn't. They couldn't. "You didn't," he breathed.
Dean smirked an evil, cocky smirk and simply replied, "Wouldn't you like to know." And then he turned to face forward towards the farmhouse again, smiling to himself.
"Dean. Dean." Sam clutched the back of Dean's seat, and his voice rose in panic. "Did you and Cas do it in the back seat? Did you and Cas do it in the back seat where I'm sitting? ! ANSWER ME!"
Dean just grinned and chuckled to himself. "He he he."
"SON OF A BITCH!"
A/N: Thank you, everyone, for reading. You make it all worthwhile. I think this is it for this particular series; I've been tossing around ideas for a non-romantic story along the lines of "Three Dudes and a Baby," which is exactly what it sounds like, or I might cook up something else. If you have any particular requests, feel free to throw them my way, and I'll give 'em a look-see. Finally, as my parting gift to you, I have found the ultimate song that sums up Cas's slash love for Dean. Look it up and be blown away. It's called "F.N.T." (which stands for Fascinating New Thing) by Semisonic, and I first heard it in Ten Things I Hate About You. Someone please make a Dean/Cas YouTube video to this song and send me the link. The lyrics are so utterly perfect. "I'm surprised that you've never been told before/ that you're lovely/ and you're perfect/ and that somebody wants you... Fascinating new thing..."