AN: My first completed multi chaptered fic! I feel happier than I think I should. (Can you believe I started writing this in 2009? Me neither.) Thanks for the reviews, concrit and support I've had—literally it all just makes me smile. A lot.
All reviews are appreciated (I wanna know what you guys think!)
"It wasn't pity sex and you haven't got a hangover so it wasn't oh-my-god-who-have-I-woken-up-in-bed-with sex," Sam concludes as Dean slides into the seat opposite him in the diner with the kind of grin he has on his face after a night of fantastic sex. "So that leaves fuck buddies."
"We're not fuck buddies," Dean sighs and grabs a waffle off his plate. He eats half of it in one go, much to Sam's disgust, to avoid giving an explanation, but Sam is nothing if not patient. "I think we're dating."
Sam raises his eyebrows and drops his fork.
"I know," Dean puts his head in his hands because he's feeling a little dizzy from this revelation himself, though he can't tell if it's dizziness caused by lust or freaking out, "I didn't even know I liked guys."
"Cas isn't a guy," Sam offers after a while, in an effort to make Dean feel better, it's a little freaky to hear that from Sam again since he said that to Dean only four days ago but Dean needs to hear it.
"Right," Dean says exhaling heavily, as he takes another bite out of his stolen waffle, "so it's angels that do it for me."
"I always knew you were a picky bastard," Sam jokes, "at least he doesn't look like Zachariah's vessel," he adds as he takes his first mouthful of food since Dean's arrived.
Dean looks thoughtful and nods, a vivid flashback of Castiel sprawled naked on their bed last night popping into his head and he gulps, hard, before he trusts himself to talk again and when he does his mouth is dry, "At least Cas is sexy and looks a little like-"
"Shut up," Sam interrupts, "I do not want to hear why you think Cas is sexy."
Dean shrugs, as he picks up the menu and looks it over a little too casually, "So you're not bothered by this thing we have?"
Sam sees right through him and they both know that if Dean is asking, it must be really important him. "No," He says honestly, "As long as I don't have to watch or listen to you two go at it like rabbits, I don't care. He might be good for you, you know."
"Well," Dean drawls, "he's good to me – though, some might call it ba-"
"I am not listening to this," Sam says, his attention completely focused on his plate again.
Castiel walks into the diner at this point and Dean's face breaks out into a huge grin. Sam rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything.
"Good morning Sam," Castiel says as he sits down next to Dean and his hand disappears under the table, "Dean."
Dean feels the rest of the world slowly fading out of his awareness until it's just him and Castiel. And Castiel's hand kinda close to his crotch. "How'd you sleep?"
Castiel nods, eyes lighting up at the memory of last night, "It was pleasurable."
Dean suddenly becomes aware of the world again as Sam coughs from across the table, "Dude, I think I'm going to puke."
"Well don't eat anymore food then," Dean says as he steals another waffle.
Sam raises his eyebrows and his fork, daring Dean to steal something else off his plate.
"You're such an easy mark Sammy," Dean shoves a menu into Castiel's hands, "pick something so we can order us some food."
"You sweet talker, you," Sam mutters from across the table.
Dean looks amused, "Something to say Sam?"
"You do realize that I don't have to eat, right?" Castiel interrupts, holding the menu out for Dean to take.
"I do," Dean says his complete attention refocused on Castiel, "it'd just make me feel better to see you chewing on something once in a while."
Sam snorts and Dean shoots him a warning glance, "Don't say a word."
"I'll have whatever you have Dean," Castiel says after a short pause and Dean summons the waitress over, "that way you can eat as much of mine as you want without appearing to be overly indulgent."
Dean looks at Sam with a did he really just say that expression because that was a sort of backhanded compliment, act of kindness thing that only an angel could pull off and still look so naïve about the whole thing.
Sam nods approvingly at the look of incredulity on Dean's face, "That was good, dude. You're learning fast Cas. I'm proud of you."
"This isn't how I'd imagine it'd be," Dean grumbles, leaning back and watching the waitress walk away having placed their orders, "you two are supposed to hate each other or something and I'm supposed to be the peacekeeper. You're not supposed to be ganging up on me already and you, Sammy are not supposed to be encouraging him."
Castiel scoots closer to Dean.
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Dean asks, "Now all I got is a warm thigh and an angel practically sitting in my lap. How am I supposed to eat anything now?"
"I do not understand," Cas says, "You enjoyed it this morning."
Sam looks a strange cross between green and pale while Dean freezes, having a vivid sense of déjà-vu as he clutches his head with his hands, "You said that in the future. After you kissed me and I freaked out."
Castiel nods and Sam frowns.
"Gimmie a minute," Dean says from behind his hands, "it's just a little weird for me 'cos I see the two of you from the future as different people from the yous of now. It just means that my brain won't implode from the sheer fuckery of this shit."
"How much about your trip to the future are you not telling us, or should I say, me?" Sam asks after Dean's relaxed.
"Chill Sammy," Dean waves a hand, "there's a lot of things that you don't want to know – but I guess one of the most important things that you should know is that when I ask you when Cas and I got together you can't tell me. Though, that really pissed me off, so I don't even know why I'm telling you to do that to me."
Even Castiel is curious about this, "Why shouldn't we tell you?"
"I dunno," Dean shrugs, "all I know is that when I got there and I asked, you all told me that I told you not to tell me when I asked."
"Wanna say that again?" asks Sam, "But you know, in a way that we can understand?"
Dean plays with his cutlery, "You think that's shit confusing? Try living it for, like, a week."
"So when you ask us when we got together, we tell you that we can't tell you…" Castiel trails off, having confused himself.
Dean nods, "Got it in one."
Sam grunts in disgust, "You two haven't even been dating twenty four hours yet and you have pet names for each other?"
Dean rolls his eyes and Castiel explains, "It is a joke Sam. It is something he mentioned last night and I was disgusted by."
"Yeah," Dean jokes in a better mood, now the waitress is serving him his breakfast, "that wasn't all I did last night that you were-"
"Okay," Sam waves his hands at each of them and cuts Dean off. "Here are some ground rules. No making jokes like that in front of me. No groping, no making out, no fornicating.
"And I know there are gonna be some times when the going gets rough, and we might have to share a room. But," Sam looks at each of them intensely here to emphasize his point, " I do not care if I am drunk, comatose or dead– you two are not going to have sex while I'm in the room."
"If you were dead then it'd be pity sex," Dean says smirking.
"Pity sex?" Castiel pokes at his fried egg, "I am unsure as to whether or not I understand."
"Dean?" Castiel says, rushing over to where Dean is sprawled out on the ground. "Are you okay?"
"Dude," Dean mumbles, voice hoarse and he splutters, "I've been stuck in a jar the past week."
Cas smiles, though it's still pitch black so Dean might be imagining it, "It's good to see you too."
Dean coughs and then squirms slightly where he's gathered in Castiel's arms, "Why am I naked?"
Cas shrugs in a what can you do kind of way, "The ritual burned your pants off."
"That's the biggest load of shit I've ever heard in my life," Dean says as he moves to stand up, "and that includes the time you told some old woman that you were this nice, helpful angel."
"I am," Cas says standing back up with Dean.
"No you're not," argues Dean, poking Cas in the chest, "if you were, you would have been taking advantage of me in my naked, naked state."
"Oh," Cas says.
"I guess you're going to have to make up for past recriminations, huh?" Dean mutters, wrapping his arms around Cas and tugging him closer, "how long did you tell Sam the ritual would last?"
Cas considers the situation, the way Dean is breathing into his air, the fingers tugging on his hair at the nape of his neck and then bends slowly into the other man's space, "I didn't."