Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2630678.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Castiel, Sam_Winchester, Jo_Harvelle, Jody_Mills, Krissy
      Chambers
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference, First_Time, Reunions, Fluff, Smut, Bottom_Dean, Alternate
      Universe-_No_Supernatural, Bounty_Hunter_Dean, Bartender_Dean, Farmer
      Castiel, Fanart, Top_Castiel
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-17 Words: 17442
****** That Summer ******
by Ltleflrt
Summary
     Ten years ago Dean spent the summer working on Castiel Novak's farm
     to earn some extra money. That was the most memorable three months of
     his life, and now that he has an opportunity to go back to that small
     town, he's hopeful that he'll meet Castiel again and maybe see if the
     old flame can be rekindled.
Notes
     This story was inspired by the song That Summer by Garth Brooks.
     Warning: Dean is 27 in this fic, but there is an explicit scene in
     which he is 17. Hence the "underage" tag.
     Also, there's a lot of background that I left very vague. I didn't
     really want to write a longfic because my brain is still a little
     tired from writing Cursed or Not. In fact when I first had the idea I
     thought it might be about 5000 words. Ha. Hahaha...
     That's not how my muse works.
     Anyway, I just wanted to get the story out of my head so my brain
     would quit itching. Sorry for the vagueness.
     Oh, and a HUGE THANK YOU to Thunderjellyfish for the fanart at the
     end :D
Dust rose up around the wheels of the big black muscle car as it pulled into an
open space before the old Roadhouse.  Or at least where the Roadhouse used to
be.  Even after five years no one had bought the lot or bothered to clean up
the burned remains of the old bar.  Time and weather had taken their toll
though and what had once been a burned out husk was mostly covered by plant
growth which was bright and colorful, blooming with spring flowers.  Only a
charred beam stuck up here and there from the foliage as a sign that there had
ever been a building in the lot. 
It was going to take quite a while to clean the lot up and get it ready for the
construction of a new bar, but time was something Dean had plenty of.   
The Impala’s door squeaked quietly as Dean opened it, and the gravel crunched
under his boot as he stepped out of the car.  He draped one arm over the roof
of the car, and the other over the top of the door and stared at the rubble
that was all that was left of one of his favorite childhood memories.  A small
smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as he remembered his first sight of
the place when he was fourteen. 
Dean wrinkled his nose as he looked around.  The place smelled like beer,
cigarettes, and unwashed bodies.  He was really too young to be in there, and
that fact was confirmed by the sidelong looks he received from the patrons.
 But he ignored them, and did his best to stand tall, chin held high and
shoulders back.  It was a defensive stance that he’d perfected in school, and
if it could keep the bullies off his back, it could keep a few old drunks from
saying anything about his age. 
His dad’s palm between his shoulders nudged him forward, and he walked toward
the bar at the back of the room as if it had been his choice.  Sam stayed glued
to his back, small fingers curled into the cloth of his flannel shirt.  The kid
was scared half to death, and Dean could only do his best to act like he wasn’t
also scared so that Sammy had someone brave to lean on. 
Dad had told him to take care of his brother, and Dean was going to do his
damned best to follow that order. 
An older woman with golden hair that fell around her shoulders in shiny waves
looked up from whatever it was she was doing behind the bar.  When her eyes lit
on John Winchester, her already severe expression tightened.  But then her dark
eyes dropped to him and Sam, and they warmed slightly even though she still
didn’t smile.  Her gaze cooled again when she lifted it to John. 
“Winchester,” she greeted curtly.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 
She wasn’t happy to see him, but it was no secret that she’d never thought he
was good enough for her best friend Mary.   
“Hello, Ellen.”  John was polite despite her obvious dislike for him.  He
clamped a hand down on Dean’s shoulder and shoved him closer to the bar.  “I
was hopin’ you could take my boys in for a few days while I take care of some
business.” 
If anything, Ellen’s eyes became even colder.  “And what business would that
be, John?” 
Dean looked down at his feet as he waited for John’s explanation.  He hadn’t
been brave enough to ask the question himself and he held his breath waiting
for the answer.  But of course, he was disappointed. 
“You gonna take the boys for me, or not?” 
Ellen had stared him down in silence, and for a moment Dean felt fear in the
pit of his stomach.  His throat clenched tightly and he felt the sting of
tears.  But he swallowed them back, refusing to show any weakness in front of
his Dad.   
He looked up at Ellen, and when their eyes met, all the ice melted out of her
gaze.  Something close to pity twisted her mouth, and it made Dean feel sick.
 Ellen nodded, and gave him a reassuring smile.  She didn’t look up at John
when she answered.   
“Yeah.  I’ll take ‘em.” 
Dean had hated Ellen at first.  He’d hated the little house they lived in
behind the bar.  He hated Jo who couldn’t seem to take the hint that he didn’t
want to be there.  He hated the school he was enrolled in.   
It made him angry that Ellen was kind to him and Sam.  They weren’t going to be
there long - Dad had said just a few days, right? - and she didn’t have to
treat them like they were a couple of damn orphans. 
A few days turned into a few years, and it was almost a full turn of the
calendar before John even showed up to visit again.   
Luckily Dean's hatred eventually faded away.  It had been summer, so he didn’t
have school, and Ellen put him to work around the Roadhouse.  Being busy
constantly used up most of the energy he’d been wasting on his anger.  Soon, he
was joining in on the dinner conversations, teasing Jo, and watching Sam
blossom under the attention of a motherly figure.  And thinking of Ellen as
family.
He still gave Ellen headaches because he was a shitty teenager with a bad
attitude, but he’d learned to love her for putting up with his shit and trying
to keep him on the straight and narrow.   
One of his greatest regrets was that he never told her that before she passed
away.  He’d been gone, working with his dad, for five years by the time she was
diagnosed with cancer.  She passed before he managed to talk John into letting
him go for a visit. 
The Roadhouse burned down three days after she passed.  Electrical fire.  Jo
hadn’t been able to bring herself to rebuild, but couldn’t sell the land
either.  Not until Dean asked for it anyway.   
Shaking his head at the memories, Dean settled back behind the Impala’s wheel,
and with one last glance at the land he now owned, he backed out of the
driveway and headed further into town.  The lot was just on the edge a town
that was really just a wide spot in the road that had only boasted two
stoplights the last time he’d been there.  Now the town had a few more of them,
and the place was larger than he remembered.   
Ten years had changed the the little town, but it appeared to have changed for
the better.  There were new restaurants, and new shops along main street that
caught his eye.  He made a mental note to check out the fancy looking bakery
later.  Celebrating his new business venture deserved a pie for celebration. 
He was glad to see that the place hadn’t collapsed in on itself like a lot of
small towns tended to do.  The steady growth of the last decade had been all
the sign he needed to come back.  Jo was happy to sell him the old plot of
land, and the money he’d starting squirreling away as soon as he was old enough
to open himself a savings account on top of the money Bobby had loaned him was
enough to not only buy the land, but would also cover building a new bar on the
lot.  
Sam and Jo wanted him to come stay with them, but Dean didn’t feel quite right
invading their space.  It still felt weird to him that they’d gotten married,
and he wasn’t ready to watch them make heart eyes at each other.  So he booked
a room at a motel that rented by the month.   
Getting checked in was a quick and easy affair and soon he was tossing his bag
on the foot of the queen sized bed and looking around at his new temporary
home.  It wasn’t the worst room he’d stayed in.  The bathroom wasn’t nightmare
inducing and the little kitchenette had appliances that didn’t look like they’d
spark and start a fire, so it was definitely livable.   
It was decorated in creams and pastel blues which was kinda nauseating, but
nothing he couldn’t deal with.  He walked over and nudged the dark drapes aside
to look out the window.  His car was just outside, and he liked the fact that
he’d be able to keep an eye on it.  He’d earned that car, and if anything
happened to it because it was parked too far away he’d be pissed. 
He left the thick drapes open, but closed the thinner white curtains underneath
so some of the afternoon light could filter in, and turned back to the bed.
 The true test of the room’s quality was the comfort of the mattress.  He
plopped down on it, and let out a happy sound when there weren’t any springs
hiding under the quilt waiting to jab him in uncomfortable places.  It wasn’t
memory foam, but it was definitely one of the better quality motel beds he’d
slept in.  He closed his eyes, folded his hands behind his head and let his
memory trail through some of the other places he’d slept in his life. 
He’d been in a lotof motel beds.  Oh, and of course there was the pull out
couch at Ellen’s which he’d claimed as his own so Sam could have the actual bed
in the room next to Jo’s. 
Then there had been the bed at the farmhouse the last summer he’d been here. 
“It’s not much, but it’s yours for the the summer.” 
Dean set his bag down on the floor just inside the room and looked around.  Not
much?  The room was somewhat bare, but it definitely wasn’t “not much”.   
White lace curtains hung over the large window behind the bed.  They wouldn’t
keep out much sunlight, but he suspected he’d be spending the majority of his
days out in the sun anyway, so he wouldn’t mind that much. 
The bed was full size, and long, which was worlds better than that stupid fold
out couch at Ellen’s.  It was covered by a patchwork quilt that made him a
little dizzy to look at because it didn’t have any discernible pattern in the
patches.  He had a vague memory of his mom making quilts with the Sewing Circle
back in Lawrence when he was little.  The church ladies always made them with
fantastic geometric designs, with matching patches.  This quilt literally
looked like it was made with whatever was laying around in the scrap bin.   
Dean stepped forward and ran his hand over the mismatched fabric.  It was soft,
and he smiled at the texture under his fingertips before taking in the rest of
the room.  Other than the bed, a plain dresser made of pale wood with three
large drawers took up most of one wall, with an oval mirror hung above it.  He
wrinkled his nose at his reflection, and turned his attention to find blue eyes
watching him intently.   
Swallowing nervously under that direct gaze, Dean forced a smile.  “It’s
great,” he said shyly.  “Thank you.” 
He was rewarded with a bright smile, all white teeth and scrunched up nose, and
Dean’s stomach did a strange little flip-flop.  His host made him nervous, but
not in a bad way.  His heartbeat sped up a little, and Dean found himself
taking quick shallow breaths.  As soon as he noticed, he forced himself to take
a deep calming breath. 
“I am glad you approve.  Why don’t you get settled, and I’ll get dinner
ready?” 
Even though his voice had stopped cracking unexpectedly a few years before, he
was unsure whether his voice would cooperate with him, so Dean only nodded.
 When he was alone a few minutes later he let out a long sigh and flopped down
onto the bed. 
He moaned as his body sank into the mattress.  It was somehow soft but firm
enough that it didn’t sag under his weight, and it was like a little slice of
heaven.  
Stacking his hands behind his head, he ignored his bag for the moment.  He
could put his clothes away later.  Right now, he wanted to relax.   
On one of his infrequent visits Dean's dad had told him he could have the
Impala if he could make enough money that summer to fix it up and pay for the
registration, and he would do whatever it took to earn what he needed.  John’d
left it parked behind the Roadhouse six months ago, and Dean had
already cataloged every part he would need and checked out how much new tags
would cost.  There was no way he could ask Ellen for the money, not after
everything she had done for him and Sam already.   
Ellen insisted he go to Castiel Novak’s farm for a summer job instead of
letting him earn it working at The Roadhouse.  She assured him it would be the
quickest way to earn a stack of cash.  Realizing she was right when he learned
how much Castiel was willing to pay, Dean finally  agreed to the job.  
He tried not to think about how angry it made him that his dad hadn’t taken
care of the car that Dean practically worshiped.  Go figure that John
Winchester couldn’t take care of a car, when he couldn’t even take care of his
own damn kids. 
He was pulled from his dark thoughts when Castiel called to him from
downstairs.  “Dean?” 
Dean hopped up from the bed, and rushed out of the room.  He slid to a halt at
the top of the stairs and looked down to see his host smiling up at him.   
The smile made him feel… weird.  Not bad-weird though.  Yeah, just… weird. 
“Dinner’s ready.  I hope sandwiches are okay?” 
“Hell - er,” he blushed at his slip, and started to descend the stairs.  “I
mean, uh… heck yeah.  Sounds great.” 
He followed his host into the kitchen, distracting himself from staring by
looking around the room.  It was an old house, and the appliances were probably
originals if Dean were to take a guess.  He settled into a chair at a simple
wooden table in the center of the room, and smiled when a sandwich piled high
with several kinds of meat and cheese was placed in front of him.  “Thanks, Mr.
Novak.” 
His host shook his head, and if Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say the man’s
cheeks darkened with a pink tinge.  “No need to be so formal, Dean.  You can
call me Cas.” 
Dean felt his own cheeks heat up, and he ducked his head shyly.  “Thanks,
Cas.” 
“Well?” Cas said briskly as he took his own seat across the table.  “What are
you waiting for?  Dig in.” 
That was all the encouragement Dean needed.  He scooped up the sandwich and
took a huge bite.  Cas chuckled at his enthusiasm and took a much more
reasonably sized bite of his own sandwich.   
In between eating, they talked about the work Cas expected him to do around the
farm.  Dean would be helping him fix an old tractor, then he’d assist with
planting the fields, and general maintenance around the farmhouse for the rest
of the summer.  It sounded like a lot of hard work, but that wasn’t something
Dean was afraid of.   
After dinner, he helped clean up the mess and then headed up to his room.  Once
in his pajamas he’d settled into bed with his headphones on and a book in his
lap.  But the bed was so comfortable that he hadn’t read more than a few
paragraphs before he was sound asleep. 
He had no memory of Cas coming in and removing his headphones and setting them,
along with his book, in the window sill then turning the lights off before
shutting the door.  But the next morning, he was convinced that the guest bed
was the best bed in all of existence because he’d slept like a rock. 
The memory was interrupted by the growl of his stomach.  With a grunt, and a
flex of muscles made strong by years of manual labor, Dean hauled himself back
into a sitting position.   
“Okay,” he muttered as he pulled his keys out and patted his pocket to make
sure his wallet was still in place.  “Motel room, check.  Food now.” 
Still not ready to face Sam and Jo, he decided to head over to a small diner
that was just a few blocks down the road.  Since it was close, he left the
Impala parked and walked.  It was the tail end of the dinner rush, so the place
was still slightly packed when Dean walked in.  But there was an empty stool at
the bar, so he settled onto it and looked up at the menu printed on the wall.
 It was a huge chalkboard, with the meals handwritten in multi-colored chalk.
 He smiled when he saw the doodled flowers around the edges. 
“Dean?  Dean Winchester, is that you?” 
Dropping his gaze from the menu board, Dean turned in his seat to greet the
familiar voice.   
“Jody!”  He hopped back off the stool and wrapped the woman in his arms.  He’d
already been taller than her the last summer lived there, but somehow after ten
years she felt even smaller.  Pulling back, he grinned down at her, taking in
how she looked different and somehow exactly the same.  Teasingly he flicked at
her short pixie cut with his fingers.  “Love the new do, Deputy Mills.” 
She huffed and blushed, batting at his hand.  “Tone down the charm, kid, you’re
far too young for me.  And that’s Sheriff Mills now.” 
He gave her an impressed look, nodding.  “Wow.  Good for you, Sheriff.” 
She just rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest, and he was glad that she
could still see through his charm.  It had been a pain when he was a kid, but
now it felt right.   
He settled back on the stool when she motioned him to, and took the empty one
next to him.  “I couldn’t believe it when Jo told me she’d sold you that land.
 She’d been hanging onto it for so long, I figured she’d never let it go to
anyone.” 
Jody and Ellen had been close friends, so Dean wasn’t surprised that Jody and
Jo were still close after Ellen passed away.  And because Jo probably couldn’t
keep her trap shut, he also wasn’t surprised that Jody knew why he was there. 
He shrugged.  “Well, she only sold it to me ‘cause I’m family.” 
Jody’s smile turned a little sad.  “That girl was always a little overly
sentimental.  I’d have thought she’d be ready to move on after she married
Sam.” 
Dean wanted to laugh at the idea that Jo was sentimental.  Okay, so she was.
 But you’d never know it if you’d never had a chance to see behind her tough as
leather exterior.  “Well I’m glad she saved it.  Gave me a damn good deal on it
too.” 
“Yeah?” Jody prompted.   
The waitress finally popped up on the other side of the counter.  After Dean
had ordered his dinner - Jody declined when he offered to buy her something -
he turned his attention back to their conversation.  “Yeah and because of that,
I won’t have to take a loan out to clear the land and rebuild.”  He didn’t
mention the money Bobby had given him.  He intended to pay it back someday,
even if Bobby had threatened to put a bullet in his hide if Dean ever tried to
hand him back one red cent of it. 
Jody’s eyes lit up with curiosity.  “What are you planning on building?” 
“Gonna build a bar and grill with a brewery,” Dean answered.  He couldn’t help
the proud smile that curled the edges of his lips.  “Gonna call it The
Winchester.” 
Jody snorted.  “That’s real original.” 
“Gonna hang a fake rifle over the bar and everything.” He nudged her with an
elbow and grinned when she laughed out loud.   
When she calmed down, Jody was still beaming at him.  “I think it’s a great
idea, Dean.” 
“Thanks, Jody.” 
Her expression shifted.  She was still smiling, but she looked a little more
serious.  “Really, Dean.  It’s great that you’re back.  We’ve missed you.” 
He felt his cheeks warm, and he had to look down, unable to accept the
affection in her eyes.  “Thanks.  Sorry it took me so long to get here.” 
She ran a hand over his shoulder, squeezing gently.  “It’s okay, kiddo.  You
had a life to live.  And Lord knows, that’s hard to do in a small town like
this.” 
That was true, but Sam and Jo had managed it.   
Dean peeked up at her, and he hoped she couldn’t see the sadness in his eyes.
 He’d always thought he’d come straight back to this place as soon as he could.
 But John’s schemes had swept him further away, and after the old bastard had
died it had taken Dean a long time to pull himself back together.  “Well,
Sheriff.  When the place opens, you’ll have to stop by.  First round’s on the
house.” 
That broke the moment and she rolled her eyes.  “Maybe when I’m off duty.”  She
slapped him on the shoulder.  “Speaking of which.  I gotta get out of here.
 Enjoy your dinner.” 
He hugged her again before she left, then turned back just as the waitress
brought him his burger.  The girl was young, probably only sixteen or
seventeen, and he didn’t recognize her at all.  That wasn’t a huge surprise
considering the the age difference. 
Suddenly he shifted on his seat, a little uncomfortable.  He was about the same
age Cas had been when Dean had worked for him, and he wondered if he had looked
so young to Cas back then. 
Her eyes flicked to the door as it closed behind the sheriff, then she caught
him with a curious look.  “Did you used to live here?” she asked as she slid a
bottle of ketchup across the counter to him. 
He accepted it with a grateful smile, pushing away the uncomfortable thoughts.
 He twisted the cap off  the bottle and poured a healthy portion of ketchup on
his plate as he answered.  “Kinda.  My Aunt Ellen used to own the Roadhouse.”
 She wasn’t really his aunt, and calling her that sounded a little creepy now
that Sam and Jo were married, but he’d called her that for so long that it just
slid off the tongue.  “I lived here for a few years when I was teenager.  Left
about ten years ago to go work with my dad.” 
The waitress - Krissy, according to her name tag - wrinkled her nose.  “You had
a chance to get the hell out of here, and you came back?” 
Knowing that she wouldn’t agree with how he really felt about it, Dean just
smiled and nodded.  “Yeah, apparently I’m an idiot.” 
Krissy snorted her agreement.  She braced both arms on the counter and leaned
toward him.  “So what brought you back then?” 
Dean’s eyes unfocused, and he saw an image of a small farmhouse.  A lazy orange
tabby asleep on the porch swing, and a rusty tractor near the back shed.  Wheat
fields as far as the eye could see in every direction, only broken by the
gravel road that led back to the main road into town.   
A man stood on the porch.  He wore soft, ripped jeans and a loose t-shirt which
was damp under his arms because of the summer heat.  He was squinting in the
sunlight, and smiling.  His eyes were bluer than the open Kansas sky above
him. 
Dean never passed a wheat field without thinking about that smile, and feeling
a twinge of regret over never seeing it again. 
“I guess I missed the view,” Dean finally answered.  It was the purest truth
he’d spoken in a long time. 
Krissy rolled her eyes.  “Nerd.  There’s no view.  It’s all flat around here.
 Nothing but wheat fields outside the city.” 
Dean refocused on Krissy and gave her a mock glare.  “It’s good enough for
me.” 
“You need to raise your expectations.”  She smirked, then walked away to help
another customer. 
“Brat,” he muttered before shoving several fries into his mouth.   
He left her a massive tip.
 
----
 
Blue eyes opened and stared at him in the early morning sunlight pouring
through the lace curtains.  The skin around them crinkled with a happy smile,
and Dean rolled onto his side to press a kiss against soft lips, undeterred by
morning breath.  He never could resist that smile. 
Warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.  Hearts thudded in tandem, and
legs tangled, and Dean moaned as hands made rough by calluses turned soft and
gentle against his skin.   
When the kiss finally ended with their foreheads pressed together, and their
labored breath mingling between them a voice that would be etched on his memory
forever greeted him. 
“Good morning, Dean.” 
Dean opened his eyes, and was disappointed to find himself in the motel room.
 The drapes were pulled closed, and only a thin sliver of light peeked through
the gap between them to illuminate the room.  Without another body in the bed,
it felt too large, a sensation that Dean had gotten used to over the last ten
years even if he’d never really forgotten what it felt like to wake up next to
someone.   
He’d had a few girlfriends that he’d spent the night with, and he wouldn’t deny
that waking up with a warm, soft body soothed something inside him.  And he’d
cared deeply for them, so for a short time he hadn’t missed blue eyes smiling
at him in the morning sunlight.   
But he never dreamed of Cassie, and he never dreamed of Lisa, even though he
missed them.  His dreams always returned him to that summer, when he was
seventeen and had learned how to love in the first place. 
He groaned at himself, rubbing both hands over his face in an attempt to chase
away the dream.  He didn’t have time to lounge around in bed.  He had to start
calling contractors to start work on the brewery, and he needed to quit being a
chickenshit and call Sam. 
Or even better… show up for breakfast. 
Deciding to get the family reunion over with, he dressed for the day and drove
over to the little house Sam and Jo had bought.  When he pulled up to it, he
couldn’t help but grin.  It was just a little rambler, with a carport big
enough for two vehicles, and a tiny yard.  No picket fence, but it still looked
like a good home for a little family of four.  Sam and Jo hadn’t gotten started
on that part of their lives yet, but it was only a matter of time. 
Dean hadn’t even gotten all the way out of the car yet when the door of the
house swung open.  A veritable giant came barreling toward him, and Dean just
had time to brace himself for the collision before he had a Samsquatch
plastered all over him.   
He hugged Sam tightly, pressing his face into his shoulder.  “Hey, Sammy,” he
mumbled before deciding that things were getting a little too Lifetime Movie
and he pulled back.  He plastered on a bright grin.  “So, I hope you’ve got
breakfast ready because let me tell you, I’m starving.” 
Sam’s ecstatic smile faded into one of Dean’s favorite disappointed bitch
faces.  “You only came to visit for the food, didn’t you?” 
“Sure did, Sam.” Dean smacked him on the shoulder. “But seeing you and Jo is a
bonus.” 
A chuckle burst out of Sam, and he shook his head with mock disappointment.
 “Well I guess we can settle for that.  Come on in, Dean.”
 
----
 
He ended up spending the whole day with Sam and Jo instead of getting anything
productive done.  But he had to say it was worth it.  They took the day off to
spend with him, and after the first awkward ten minutes in which Jo yelled at
him for not visiting enough (read: ever), it was like he’d never been gone.
 And even though Dean still refused their offer to let him stay with them, he
felt a hell of a lot better for finally being back with his family. 
The next several days passed in a flurry of phone calls with contractors.  He’d
already had plans created for the new building, so he just had to get the lot
cleared and as soon as the materials were brought in, the construction could
begin. 
He didn’t want to waste money paying someone to clear the land, but he didn't
have the equipment to do it himself.  So three days later, he stood on the edge
of his property, watching as the rubble was cleared away by a rusty old
tractor.  
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Dean leaned his hip against his Impala and
let his mind wander once again to old memories. 
Damn, it was hot.  Dean ran the back of his arm over his forehead, swiping away
sweat and smearing grease across the skin in its place.  But despite the heat,
he was completely focused on his work.  The tractor's engine had needed a few
replacement parts - old hoses cracked from age, and all the wires connecting
the battery, plus a filter - and an oil change since Cas had mentioned that he
didn't think it had ever had one before.  Really, it was a fucking miracle the
thing even ran. 
Dean had given him such an intense glare for neglecting the basic maintenance
that Cas had flushed bright red and couldn't meet his eyes.  But he'd agreed to
everything on Dean's list when they'd gone into town to visit the hardware
store.  He hadn't even complained when Dean had insisted on teaching him how to
change the oil himself. 
Although the truth was, Dean wouldn't have minded being invited out again
whenever Cas needed help with the tractor.  He liked working on engines, and
had always been good at it.   
He also liked the way Cas looked at him like he was someone smart, and
important enough to listen to when he talked about what needed to be done.
 Everyone else treated him like a kid still.  But Cas didn't. 
Finally tightening the last bolt in place, Dean straightened and let out a
satisfied sigh.  The thing should be ready to go now. 
"Finished?" 
Dean looked over his shoulder at Cas who was walking toward him from the house,
carrying a tall glass of iced lemonade.  He hopped down off the side of the
tractor, and accepted the glass when Cas handed it to him.  After swallowing
down half of it in three long swallows, Dean grinned at the older man.  "Yeah,
it should run like a dream now.  Want me to start 'er up?" 
Cas’ smile was small, but his blue eyes were bright with excitement.  "Yes.  Go
ahead." 
He accepted the glass back when Dean handed it to him, heedless of the greasy
fingerprints.  Dean could feel his eyes following him as he climbed up into the
tractor's cab.  Cas always watched him closely, and sometimes stood closer than
Dean was accustomed to.  It made him a little jittery sometimes, but he didn’t
dislike it. 
The engine purred to life when he twisted the key in the ignition and he let
out a triumphant whoop, throwing his arms up and beaming down at Cas.  The
older man grinned, his nose wrinkling up and his teeth shining straight and
white against his tanned skin.   
Something coiled tight, low in Dean’s belly.  It made him feel a little bit
wild and reckless, so when he turned off the engine, he jumped down from the
tractor cab instead of climbing down.  He had to bend his knees and brace a
hand on the gravel below his feet because he landed so hard, but he rose up
gracefully and approached Cas with a cocky smirk.  "Well, Cas?  Now that I'm
done with the tractor, what've you got for me next?" 
Cas' smile changed.  It was still wide and happy, but somehow more intimate.
 He reached up and squeezed the back of Dean's neck, which felt really damn
good after spending most of the morning hunched over the engine.  "How about
some lunch?"  His eyes glittered with humor as they slid down and back up,
making Dean feel every inch of his gaze almost like a touch.  "Although, you
might want to consider a shower first." 
Dean licked his suddenly dry lips.  "Uh, yeah.  That sounds great." 
Instead of releasing him right away, Cas ran his hand gently down Dean's spine.
 His palm settled low on Dean's back, just above the waistband of his jeans.
 "You go get yourself clean, then," Cas murmured in a voice that sounded like
pure sex.  Dean was suddenly grateful for Cas' tendency to hold eye-contact for
far too long, because he really didn't want Cas to notice what was going on in
the front of his pants.  He seemed oblivious to Dean's reaction to the touch
when he continued.  "I'll have lunch ready for you when you're done." 
"Thanks, Cas."  Whoa, was that his voice?  Dean cleared his throat, hoping Cas
hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary.  "Sounds like a plan." 
Something in Cas' expression made him think that he'd noticed the husky timbre
of Dean's voice, and he approved.  With a nudge against Dean's back, he
gestured for him to lead the way back to the house. 
If anyone were to accuse Dean of adding just a little more swagger to his
stride on the way to the porch, Dean would have denied it vehemently. 
But they would have been right. 
And if his shower went a little longer than usual, he would excuse it with the
need for extra scrubbing to get all the oil off his skin. 
The memory was interrupted when Dean's phone rang, pulling him back to the
present.  He answered it without looking at the screen.  "What's up, Sammy?" 
"Hey Dean.  How’s the cleanup going?" 
Dean chuckled and turned away from watching the crew clear out the lot.  "Yeah,
so far so good.  Sorry I haven't called you.  It's been a little hectic." 
"No problem, I get it.  Things have been busy here too."  Sam was teaching
summer classes at the local high school and had less free time than he’d
expected.  Jo, who was one of Jody’s deputies now, was on duty.  They were both
upset that they couldn’t help him, but Dean had everything under control.  "At
least you answered the phone, right?" 
There was a loud k'chunk behind Dean, and he quirked a smile even though his
brother couldn't see it.  "Yeah, you're lucky I heard it.  Construction is loud
work." 
Sam laughed, but changed the subject.  "So have you run into anyone that
remembers you yet?" 
Dean heard the unspoken question, but avoided it for now.  He was still pissed
at himself for telling Sam about Cas in a drunk moment of weakness several
years ago.  Man that had been an awkward phone call.  "I ran into Ash.  Offered
him a job as a bartender." 
Luckily, Sam let him get away with the evasion.  “I’m not sure that’s the best
idea you’ve ever had.” 
“Yeah, no shit,” Dean answered with a short huff of laughter. 
Sam kept up a steady stream of conversation for a little while as they
discussed Dean’s plans for rebuilding and how he planned to advertise for
employees.  These were easy subjects for Dean.  He’d never owned a business of
his own, but he’d picked up quite a bit from Ellen when he was younger and he’d
helped Bobby run his salvage yard for a few years before he decided to retire.
 He may not be book smart like his brother, but he knew how to get shit done,
and that was important for a small business owner. 
They talked about everything except for Cas.  But Dean could hear Sam's eager
curiosity hiding behind every other word.  And when he finally cracked and
brought the subject up again, Dean was impressed he'd waited so long.   
"So have you considered just driving by his place and saying hello?" 
Dean suppressed a groan and rubbed a palm over his face.  "I dunno, Sammy." 
"Come on, Dean.  He's one of the reasons you wanted to move back here isn't
he?" 
"No!  I came back because Jo wanted to sell the land, and you two are starting
a family and- y’know what?  I don't have time to talk about this right now,
Sam.  I've got a meeting with a contractor soon."  It wasn't a lie exactly.
 But Sam didn't need to know that the ‘soon’ meant ‘in two hours’. 
Sam's sigh wheezed through the phone, and Dean couldn't help smiling a little
when his imagination supplied an image of You're-so-full-of-shit written across
his little brother's expressive features.  "Fine.  Go do your thing.  But
you’re coming to dinner tonight, yeah?" 
"Yeah," Dean agreed.  That he could definitely do. 
After he hung up and tucked his phone away, his thoughts drifted back to Cas.
 He hadn’t even been sure that Cas still lived in the area until Sam suggested
he drive out and knock on his door.  Cas had been struggling with keeping his
farm running by himself ten years ago, which is why he'd hired Dean to help him
out that summer.  At seventeen, Dean had been a big strapping kid, with far too
much energy to burn every day, and a pocket that needed lining.  The
arrangement had been tentatively planned for the next summer as well. 
Unfortunately, Dean hadn't been able to come back.  When John came back and
wanted Dean and Sam to start traveling with him again, Ellen had put her foot
down and told him that he had to let his boys choose.  John had been pissed,
but he’d agreed when she threatened to call child services on him and get the
Sam and Dean permanently removed from his custody.  Sam had elected to stay
which had caused a huge rift in the family, especially since Dean hadn’t been
able to tell John no.   
Working as a bounty hunter wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to spend the first
few years of his adulthood, but Dean had always been the son that jumped to do
anything that gave him a chance to be with his dad.  At first he’d come back as
often as he could to visit Sam, but as time had passed those visits became
fewer, especially after Sam went off to college.  And he'd never been able to
get the courage up to drive out to Cas' farm and see how he was doing.  
When John died in a hunt gone wrong, Dean had tried to follow in his father’s
footsteps, although sometimes he imagined going back and being with Sam and the
Harvelles.  He dreamed of going back and visiting Cas.  Of seeing if that
summer had been more than a fantasy.  But his last summer as a boy had faded
further and further into his past and Dean eventually gave up on the dream. 
At least until now. 
He took another look back at the lot of land that belonged to him now, and
would soon hold his livelihood under the roof of a shiny new bar.  He smiled,
excitement thrilling through his blood.   
Deciding that he’d grab some lunch before his meeting, Dean left the old lot.
 He was half-way through dessert when the contractor called him and asked to
reschedule the meeting.  Left at loose ends, Dean decided to take a drive
through town and see what else had changed in the last ten years. 
He drove around, taking random turns and taking in the scenery.  But soon he
found himself on the road that took him out of town.  He rolled the window down
and cranked the radio up as he drove down the highway, fields of wheat
stretching out in every direction.   
He hadn’t meant to go there but soon he found himself turning onto the gravel
drive leading to Castiel’s old place.  He stopped at the mouth of the little
road, nervous about going any further.  He got out of the car, and stared out
over the Impala’s roof.   
The big white house that had been far too large for just one man was still
there, along with the red barn that housed Cas’ equipment.   
There didn’t seem to be any activity at the house, but that didn’t mean
anything.  At this time of day Cas could very easily be out in the fields. 
If he even lived there anymore.   
Dean really hoped Cas hadn’t given up on the farm.  He’d really seemed to love
the place.   
“If this place is so hard to run by yourself, why don’t you sell it?” Dean
asked one evening after a thoroughly exhausting day of work. 
They were sitting on the swing on the porch, watching the sky change colors as
the sun went down.  Dinner sat heavily in Dean’s stomach, and the cool lemonade
he’d been sipping at did little to lift the sleepy feeling that was slowly
overcoming him.   
They were sitting very close, their shoulders and thighs pressed together
despite the fact that the swing was big enough to allow several inches of space
between them.  Dean had sat down first, and when Cas had crowded in next to
him, he could very easily have moved.  But he’d stayed right where he was, and
enjoyed the rub of Cas’ thigh against his own.  The flex of muscles against his
made the lingering heat of the day seem even hotter. 
“I don’t want to sell it,” Cas murmured.  He hadn’t looked at Dean yet.  His
eyes, which Dean might be becoming a little bit obsessed with because wowblue,
were trained on the horizon.  “It’s my home.  And I’m not afraid of a little
hard work to keep it.” 
He finally looked at Dean, and there was laughter in his expression.  He wasn’t
smiling, but Dean could tell because of the tiny laugh lines around his eyes.
 “Besides, you’re here to help me.” 
Dean felt himself flush but didn’t drop his eyes away.  “Yeah, Cas.  ‘m happy
to help, man.” 
Cas held his gaze, and Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to squirm away from the
intensity of his stare, or lay himself bare to it.  Finally, after what was
probably too long, he dropped his eyes, only for his gaze to fall on Cas’
mouth.  His lips looked soft, if a bit dry, and Dean wondered if they would
feel different than a girl’s.   
He’d kissed a few girls.  Gone a little - okay, a lot - further than that.  But
he’d never kissed a boy before.  Sure, he’d thought about it.  But since he
liked girls anyway, he’d never pursued any of those thoughts. 
Now though, he was tempted. 
The moment was broken when the telephone inside the house rang shrilly.  Dean’s
body jerked with startlement and he sat back, suddenly realizing he’d been
leaning in toward Cas.  He was intensely thankful to whoever was calling.  He
had been thinking about kissing, and it would have only taken a few more inches
to sate his curiosity. 
Dean wasn’t sure if he imagined the disappointment that flashed across Cas’
face for an instant before he stood and went into the house to answer the
phone.  But he hoped that’s what it was.   
He leaned back in the swing and kicked with his feet until it swung a little
wildly on it’s chains.  He could understand why Cas would want to keep the
place.  It was peaceful out here, and the view was great.  And he would do
whatever it took this summer to help Cas out.  Because Cas was a good guy, and
he deserved to keep his dream. 
Dean could just make out the swing on the house’s huge wraparound porch.  He
smiled a little, remembering all the times he and Cas had sat out there sipping
lemonade and watching the sun go down before heading inside for the night. 
Man he had a lot of good memories about that farmhouse. It had been three
months, but it had gone by far too fast.  So had the last ten years. 
He shouldn’t have stayed away so long. 
Making a decision, Dean got back in the Impala and drove up to the house,
parking next to a maroon Ford Taurus that he didn’t recognize.  He hoped that
it meant Cas was home though, and he hadn’t made this trip for nothing. 
He jogged up to the house, hopping up the two steps onto the porch.  There were
still white lace curtains covering the large window behind the porch swing, and
that made Dean smile.  Cas’ decorative taste had always leaned toward the
feminine even if the man himself was anything but.   
The house looked like it could use a coat of paint.  From up close, he could
see the pearl gray paint flaking.  The wood under his feet still felt sturdy
even though it also looked like it needed a fresh staining.  Did that mean Cas
was having a hard time finding help around the farm?  He’d had Dean help him
with those kind of things that summer.   
These thoughts swarmed him as he rapped his knuckles on the door.  He turned to
look out toward the barn, while he waited for Cas to answer the knock, and
wondered if he’d been taking proper care of his tractor.  Did he still have the
same old watering equipment, or had he upgraded yet?  Were there still several
stray cats getting fat off mice lounging around somewhere out of sight until
Cas called them to the porch for bowls of canned food? 
The sound of footsteps brought his attention back to the door, and Dean bounced
a little on his toes, nervous energy making it difficult for him to stand
still.  He sucked in a breath when the doorknob rattled and the door began to
swing inward.  It left him in a rush though when a very pretty blonde woman
looked up at him curiously. 
“Can I help you?” She asked politely after an awkward moment when he didn’t say
anything. 
“Uh, sorry.”  Dean couldn’t quite understand what was going on and he paused
again to gather his scattered thoughts.  “Uh… does Cas still live here?” he
finally asked. 
The woman smiled.  “Yes, he does.  He’s not here at the moment… he’s gone to
town.” 
“You, uh…” Dean swallowed to moisten a suddenly dry mouth.  “You live here
too?” 
Her smile faded a little, and her expression became more cautious.  “Yes…” 
Dean nodded a little jerkily.  So Cas must have found himself a wife.  Of
course.  His stomach twisted painfully at the thought, but at the same time he
felt happy for Cas.  This woman was very pretty and was probably as sweet
natured as she looked. 
“Who is it, mama?” 
Dean’s heart leaped into his throat when a young girl who looked about nine
years old came bounding down the stairs.  Unafraid of the stranger at the door,
she flung her arms around her mother’s waist and looked up at him curiously. 
Her eyes were a familiar shade of blue. 
“Who are you, Mister?” 
“Claire, don’t be rude-” 
“It’s okay,” Dean interrupted.  “I’m Dean.  I, uh… knew Cas.  A long time ago.
 Used to help him out around here when I was a kid, and I thought I’d stop by
and say hello now that I’m back in town.”  He took a step back, and then
another.  “But since he’s not here, I won’t bother you ladies.  Have a good
day.” 
He spun around and hurried back to his car before either of them could respond.
 They stepped out onto the porch and watched him back away from the house.
 Just to be nice, he smiled and gave them a little wave before he turned and
took himself back toward the main road. 
His throat tightened and there was a burning behind his eyes, which he did his
best to ignore as he drove away from the farmhouse that had been the home to
some of his favorite memories.  He couldn’t say he was surprised that Cas had
found himself a wife and had a pretty daughter.  Cas deserved every minute of
happiness a family would bring him. 
And yeah, Dean was disappointed.  But he shouldn’t have expected anything else.
 Ten years was a long time, and he’d just been a kid the last time he’d seen
Cas.  Even if Cas had never treated him like one. 
He let out a gusting sigh and attempted to shove the disappointment deep down.
 Yeah, he missed an opportunity by staying away for so long.  But he was still
going to build a life for himself here.  He’d already gotten started, and he
wasn’t backing out now. 
That was something he could tell himself over and over, but by the time he got
back to town, he really didn’t feel any better.  It was still only mid-
afternoon, but he decided to pull around to the liquor store and buy himself a
bottle of whiskey.  He had nothing to do for the rest of the day, and no
meetings until nearly lunch time the next day.  It had been a long time since
he’d gotten drunk, so he felt like now was a good time.  He called Sam and told
him he wouldn’t be able to make it to dinner, and hung up before his brother
could figure out that there was something wrong. 
Despite the booze, he still dreamed that night of blue eyes, messy brown hair,
and secretive smiles. 
The next month passed in a blur, but not the alcohol induced kind.  More like
the kept-too-busy-to-think kind of blur.  He’d hired contractors, but Dean was
an accomplished carpenter, and was also pretty handy with electronics so he was
ass deep in the construction of the new bar.   
They finished the back half which was actually a small studio apartment where
he would be living, and he furnished it and moved in so he wouldn’t have to
keep paying to rent a motel room.  He was at the grocery store, picking up
things to stock his fancy new fridge when he saw Cas for the first time. 
He had a full basket and was humming Ramble On to himself as he was pushing it
toward the front of the store.  When he came around a corner, he skidded to a
halt when he nearly ran into someone.   
“Whoa!  Sorry, dude, didn’t see you there-” Dean cut off when his eyes were
caught by a familiar flash of blue.   
He looked the same, but different.  His hair was still dark, without even a
light dusting of gray that might be expected in a man in his late thirties.
 But instead of looking like he’d been running his fingers through it
constantly, it was combed neatly.  There were new lines around his eyes, but
they looked like the kind brought by laughter.  He was clean shaven, and it
looked good, but Dean felt a yearning ache in his chest at the lack of
stubble. 
The ache intensified when those familiar - beautiful -blue eyes fell on him…
and there was no sign of recognition. 
“It’s no problem.  Probably my fault as well.”  Cas’ voice didn’t quite sound
as deep and gravelly as Dean remembered it, but he figured his imagination had
probably embellished quite a few of his memories over the years.  Cas smiled
and nodded at him politely, and Dean’s heart stuttered.  “Have a nice day.” 
And then he was walking away.  Before Dean could say anything.   
Not that he knew what he’d want to say now.  Cas didn’t even recognize him, and
Dean wasn’t sure it was a good idea to remind him.  Not now that he had a
family.  Dean didn’t want to do anything to compromise Cas’ happiness.   
A lump rose in his throat, and he had to swallow a few times to get it to
recede.  By the time he had control of himself, Cas had already paid for his
handbasket full of groceries and was leaving the store.   
Dean pushed his cart slowly toward the same cash register, and forced himself
to smile at the cashier whose nametag said Becky! surrounded by smiley faces
and white daisy stickers. 
She grinned at him brightly as she started scanning his groceries.  “Wow, you
almost ran Mr. Novak right over, didn’t you?  Good thing you put on the brakes
on when you did.  With a cart this full, you might have actually done some
damage.”  She laughed at her own joke as she stacked cans in a bag together,
then lifted the whole thing and put it inside another bag. 
“You know Ca- Mr. Novak?” 
“Oh yeah.  I give his daughter Claire piano lessons once a week.  Cute kid.
 Talented too.  She might be better than me pretty soon-” 
His attention wavered, so he just smiled weakly and nodded at what seemed like
the appropriate times, then he got the hell out of there.  Outside, the wind
had picked up, whipping at the trees planted at intervals around the parking
lot.  The sky was still clear above him, but he doubted that would last long.
 There were clouds on the horizon.  A storm was storm blowing in. 
By the time he’d gotten back to the half-built Winchester, and started
unloading his groceries the clouds were an ominous weight hanging directly
above him.  Lightning flashed in the distance, and he counted silently to
himself until he heard the clap of thunder seven seconds later. 
He was just getting the last bags out of the car when the first few raindrops
fell.   
Inside, he threw open the curtains - white lace, because he was sentimental -
over the kitchen sink open so he could watch the storm while he emptied the
grocery bags into his fridge.  He loved summer storms, even if they did carry
the danger of tornados.  The wind and the rain battering the window and the
flash of lightning every few minutes made him smile. 
At least until he remembered another storm just like it, back when he was
seventeen and working for Cas on the farm. 
The storm blew in quickly like they always did over the flat Kansas land.  With
not even a hill in sight to slow the winds, it was no surprise that the power
flickered out before the rain even started. 
Despite the fact that it was still afternoon, Castiel lit candles in the
kitchen while he put together a dinner of cold sandwiches and sliced fruit.
 They’d lucked out and the rain had at least let them get a full day of work in
before it chased them indoors for the rest of the evening.   
They talked as they ate, as always.  Dean had been reading a book from Cas’
huge collection and he was pretty excited about it.  Cas watched him with one
of those smiles that was mostly in his eyes as Dean went on and on about the
hero’s journey and how it was being used differently in this book rather than
another that he’d finished the week before. 
After dinner, they played checkers until it got completely dark outside.  The
electricity was still out, so Castiel let Dean take the flashlight up to his
room so that he could read his book until he was ready to go to sleep.   
“What about you?” Dean asked, one foot on the bottom step that led up to the
bedrooms.   
“Candles will be fine,” Cas answered.  There were several lit around the room,
and Dean swore that Cas looked like an angel in their light.  
Maybe that sounded sappy, but he’d read the bible.  Angels were warriors, not
fluffy little cupids with bows and arrows.   
Dean had wanted to walk back over and touch him, to make sure he was real.
 Because right then, he wasn’t sure any man could be so beautiful as Cas. 
Instead he’d just nodded nervously and made his way upstairs to his room.  He
had showered earlier when there was still light outside, so he didn’t have much
to do to get ready for bed.  It was hot and muggy in the room, even with the
window cracked open, so he stripped down to his boxers and stretched out on the
bed on top of the covers.   
He rolled onto his stomach and held the flashlight on the pages while he read
his book.  But his attention kept wandering, and he found himself reading the
same passages over and over again. 
There was something about the storm that was making him restless.  He wasn’t
sure if it was the way the window rattled under the wind and rain, or if it was
the increasing flash of lightning, but whatever it was, he felt it like a
buzzing under his skin.  He rocked back and forth, and then bit his lip when
the friction sent a thrill of pleasure through his groin. 
Maybe if he jerked off, he’d be able to relax a little. 
Just the thought alone made him a little hard. 
He rolled over and set the flashlight on the window sill along with his book
and settled himself back against his pillows.  Once he was comfortable he
rubbed his dick through the thin cloth of his boxers.  With a quiet moan, he
let his head fall back against the headboard.   
Yeah, this was definitely what he needed… 
And if he imagined that the hand on his dick wasn’t his own… maybe it belonged
to a certain blue-eyed angel… well fantasies were kinda part of the whole
jerking off thing, right? 
He was fully hard now, and the cloth of his boxers was becoming damp from his
arousal.  He was just about ready to reach under the waistband and- 
A knock at the door made his whole body jerk in surprise, his hand immediately
pulling away even though the door stayed closed and he hadn’t actually been
caught at anything.   
“Dean?  Are you still awake?” 
“Yeah-” Whoa, his voice sounded a little bit wrecked.  He cleared his throat
and tried again.  “Yeah, Cas, I’m up.” 
“Can I come in?” 
Shit! 
He scrabbled to grab a pillow to press over his lap.  “Uh, sure.  Come on in.” 
The door opened, and Cas walked in.  Dean had to swallow nervously, because the
older man was shirtless.   
It wasn’t the first time Dean had seen him without a shirt.  They both stripped
down to just their pants out in the heat of the day as they worked.  And as
warm as it was in the house, Dean wasn’t surprised that Cas had decided to lose
a layer of clothing since they couldn’t run any of the fans.   
But seeing him shirtless in the candlelight while Dean was still half-hard from
an interrupted attempt at masturbating was different.  Somehow more intimate. 
The candlelight defined the lean lines of Cas’ chest and abs.  Made his arms
look even more thickly muscled.  When a flash of lightning illuminated him
completely for a split second, Dean swore he looked otherworldly.  Like one of
God’s warriors come down to punish him for his wicked thoughts. 
Yeah, he wasn’t half-hard anymore.  The idea of a “punishment” from someone as
gorgeous as Cas had him hard as a damn rock, and he was really grateful for the
pillow in his lap. 
Cas set his candle down on the dresser.  The mirror reflected the light and
brightened the room a little further, so to save batteries, Dean reached for
the flashlight and flicked it off before setting it aside again.   
He tensed when Cas came closer, and sat on the edge of the bed.  He didn’t sit
at the foot, though.  Oh no.  Like always, Cas was invading his personal space
bubble.  The edge of his hip nudged Dean’s knee, he was sitting so close.   
Dean realized he was holding his breath, and forced himself to suck in a
lungful of air before he passed out.  “What’s up, Cas?”  Great, he sounded like
he was having a heart attack or something. 
He kinda was, but Cas didn’t need to know that. 
Unfortunately, Cas noticed.  He tilted his head, a gesture that had become
familiar to Dean over the last few weeks.  It was adorable as fuck most of the
time, but now it just made Dean want to squirm at the thrill it sent down his
spine.  “Is everything alright, Dean?” 
“Yeah, just-” Dean scrambled for an excuse.  “Uh… it’s just really warm in
here,” he finally said. 
Lame, Winchester.  Lame. 
Cas leaned closer, and Dean’s breath hitched again.  Cas’ eyes traced his
features carefully, and after a moment he reached out to lay a palm over Dean’s
cheek.  “It’s hard to tell without proper lighting, but you do look a bit
flushed.” 
He was close.  So close.  It would take very little to lean forward and press
their lips together. 
But Dean remained frozen under his gaze.  He couldn’t answer.  He couldn’t
react.   
“Dean?” 
It shocked Dean that Cas couldn’t hear his heart.  It was beating so hard and
so fast that it should have been audible over the thunder that periodically
rumbled through the night.   
“Dean, are you sure you’re alright?” 
“Yeah, Cas.”  He licked his lips, and gasped a little when Cas’ eyes dropped
down to them.   
Unable to help himself, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. 
Something in Cas’ expression darkened.  Became just a little bit dangerous.
 Much like the lightning storm raging outside. 
Dean’s dick jumped under the pillow. 
Cas’ hand dropped from his face, coming to rest instead right over Dean’s
heart.  There was no way he could miss how hard it was beating now.  
“Did you want something?” Dean murmured.  He’d meant to remind Cas of his
reason for visiting his room, but the question came out far more suggestive
than he’d intended. 
A slow smile spread across Cas’ full, pink lips.  Instead of answering, he
dropped his eyes from Dean’s.  His gaze traced down over Dean’s bare chest, and
down further.  His hand slid down from Dean’s heart to the pillow he held in
his lap.  Cas tugged at it gently until Dean released it, and then he tossed it
off the other side of the bed. 
He stared down at where the head of Dean’s dick peaked out of the slot at the
front of his boxers for a moment, before his eyes rose again and pinned Dean
against the headboard.  “You,” he said softly.  “I want you.” 
Dean sucked in a breath at the words.  It took him a moment to realize Cas was
waiting for something from him.  He didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded. 
A smile broke across Cas’ face.  One Dean hadn’t seen before, but it sent a
fresh load of blood straight to his dick.   
Cas leaned forward, and Dean knew he was going to kiss him.   
Just before their lips touched, Dean jerked back a little.  “Cas, wait.” 
Cas froze, but didn’t retreat.  He studied Dean closely.  “Do you want me to
leave, Dean?  Because I will if-” 
Dean’s hand shot out to grab Cas’ shoulder.  “No!” He grimaced at the high
pitch of his voice.  “No, Cas, I don’t want you to leave.  I… I want this.” 
“Then what is it?” 
Dean licked his lips again.  Cas’ eyes dropped to watch the motion, then came
back up to stare into him.  Curious, cautious.  Patient.   
It was the patience that got through to Dean, and got his mouth moving again.
 “I’ve never… I mean I’ve been with a few girls, but I’m sure it’s not the
same, and I-” 
Cas silenced him with a kiss.   
Oh.  Fuck. 
Kissing a man was like kissing a girl, and yet nothing like it at all.  Cas’
lips were just as soft as Dean had imagined.  But there was also the scratch of
his beard stubble at the edges.  And his breath smelled like he’d been chewing
fresh peppermint.  Dean thought that should have seemed girly, but it wasn’t.
 Nothing about Cas was girly.   
His tongue swiped at Dean’s lips, and Dean opened to him, letting himself be
invaded.  He heard a small whimper and realized it came from his own throat.   
When Cas finally leaned back, he stared at Dean’s mouth hungrily.  Dean wanted
to crawl into his lap and kiss him until they both passed out from lack of air.
 But he held still, unsure how Cas felt about his inexperience.   
“I’ll teach you what you need to know,” Cas finally murmured.  “If you’ll let
me.” 
“God yes,” Dean breathed. 
And then Cas smiled.  It was so radiant, that the electricity could have come
back on and even if every light in the house was on it wouldn’t have been been
as bright.  
Dean shuddered a little at the memory.  Cas had been true to his word, and had
taught Dean exactly what he needed to know.  He’d spent what felt like hours
kissing Dean.  On the mouth and anywhere Dean’s skin was exposed.  Which was a
lot of space considering he’d started out in just his boxers. 
Eventually those had been removed, and Castiel had sucked him off, slowly, not
letting Dean come until he was nearly sobbing for release.  Then he’d held Dean
and stroked his overly sensitive skin until he caught his breath and his world
no longer felt like it was spinning too fast on its axis.   
And then he’d taught Dean how to reciprocate.  He’d talked softly and gently,
giving instructions and praise.  His long, graceful fingers had stroked through
Dean’s hair, encouraging him to swallow Cas’ thick cock as deep as he could.
 Those same fingers tugged him back when he gagged himself in his eagerness,
and Cas’ whispered admonishment to not push himself too much had made Dean even
more determined to give Cas every ounce of pleasure he could.   
God, he’d loved it.  Even though he’d never had a dick in his mouth before,
Dean hadn’t felt uncomfortable at all. Not like the first time he’d gone down
on a girl.  Being with someone experienced certainly made a huge difference. 
And when Cas had finally come with a small cry, Dean had swallowed down every
drop even though he hadn’t really liked the taste.  It was worth it when Cas
had praised him again.  He pulled Dean against him, and they’d cuddled close
despite the muggy heat.  And Dean had soaked in every word of praise, and every
gentle stroke of fingers along his skin. 
When the electricity came on a few minutes later, they’d both laughed so hard
the bed had shaken with it. 
After that night Dean didn’t sleep alone anymore.  They took turns in each
other’s beds, although Cas’ was larger.  Cas wanted Dean to still have his own
space, just in case he ever wanted to be alone.  But on nights Dean went to his
own bed, Cas would still knock on the door before going to his own room, and
Dean would always let him in. 
It had been a very educational summer. 
Dean didn’t learn just about sex from Cas.  He also learned about himself.
 When he’d become nervous about what they were doing, and began questioning all
his previous crushes and encounters, Cas had listened to him.  And then when
Dean felt like he had no more words, Cas shared some of his own.  Words of
encouragement and understanding.  And one word that had defined Dean’s
sexuality for the rest of his adult life. 
Cas himself did not identify as bisexual.  He felt like the term was too
narrow, but hadn’t known how to define himself at the time.  Now, with ten
years of life experience behind him, Dean thought pansexual was probably the
word Cas had been looking for. 
As he grabbed a beer and flopped down on the bed on the other side of the
little studio apartment, he wondered if Cas had ever learned the word.  If not,
maybe Dean could share it with him someday, if they ever became reacquainted.
 It was the least he could do for the guy in return for helping Dean understand
himself all those years ago. 
For a moment, he considered digging out a bottle of whiskey instead of
finishing his beer.  But the next day was going to be busy and it was going to
start early.  So he resisted the urge, and instead flipped on the TV, switching
channels until he came across something that he thought might distract him from
memories of blue eyes and strong hands.
 
----
 
Finishing The Winchester distracted him from his melancholy almost completely
for the next month.  He didn’t run into Cas again, and the only time Dean
thought of him were in the lonely minutes before sleep took him, and sometimes
during a vivid dream that was mostly memory.   
And soon, it was opening night and Dean was busy serving beers and burgers
alongside his newly hired staff.  The Winchester was a huge hit on that first
night.  In a rare moment when no one needed him for anything, Dean paused in
the shadows near the back and looked out across the packed tables with a proud
smile.   
He’d done it, and the townsfolk seemed to approve.  Putting down roots had been
a major decision since he hadn’t stayed more than a year in one place for the
last decade, but the sense of pride he felt now made the whole thing worth it.
 Even if only half his plans had come to fruition.    
“Hey Boss!” Ash called from behind the bar.  “Can you run in the back and get
me another case of Stout?” 
“You got it!” Dean called back to him.   
He wove through the tables, smiling at people who called out to him as he
passed, but not pausing to talk.  People seemed to understand and accepted his
smiles with good natured grins of their own.   
The storage room was on the opposite end of the bar, and through a small
hallway that also led to the restrooms.  And Dean nearly walked into the men’s
room door when someone came out. 
“Oh, I’m sorry.” 
Dean’s head jerked up at the familiar voice.  “Cas… hey!” He sounded
breathless, and he wasn’t sure if that was because of the hurry he was in, or
because his heart had decided to up it’s tempo in Cas’ presence.   
This time the blue eyes Dean had been so in love with when he was seventeen
were wide with recognition.  “Dean?” 
If it was possible, Dean’s heart sped up even more.  He suddenly felt like a
shy kid again, and he banged his fist gently against the wall in a nervous
gesture.  “Oh, so you remember me now?” 
Cas frowned and there was the head tilt that always made Dean’s insides feel
strange and melty.  “Of course I remember you.”  He reached out, but stopped
just short of touching.  “As if I could ever forget,” he murmured. 
Dean opened his mouth to remind Cas about their near collision at the grocery
store, but he was interrupted by Ash.   
"Yo, Boss!  You gonna get that case of beer?" 
Startled, Dean jerked around and gave Ash a wave to acknowledge his question.
 He turned back to Cas and gave him a sheepish smile. "I'd love to catch up,
Cas, but things are hopping out there and I've got to get moving." 
"Of course." 
Dean skirted around Cas and made his way to the back room.  His thoughts
whirled, and his heart beat with excitement. Cas was here, in his bar. 
His own brain put the kibosh on his elation . Cas was still out of reach as
anything more than a friend. Dean was not a home wrecker. 
After he brought the case of beer out to Ash, Dean didn't have any time to
think about Cas.  Jody had warned him to expect a crowd so he had all hands on
deck for opening night, and he was glad for the extra help.  He had both cooks
in back and all four of his wait staff working the tables and Dean helped Ash
out behind the bar in between helping deliver drinks and meals.   
By the end the night he was feeling a little run down and was seriously
considering hiring a few more people.  He'd give it a few days to see if the
crowds thinned out after the grand opening. 
It was well past two in the morning before Dean finally sent the last of his
employees home.  He was filling a cash bag after verifying the till count when
he waved Ash off.  His attention was on the notes was taking when the door
opened again, and he looked up, expecting Ash.  "Did you forget your ass, budd-
" he cut off when he realized who was standing just inside the door.  In the
flurry of activity, he’d forgotten the run-in near the bathrooms earlier in the
night.  "Cas..." 
Cas smiled, one of his small ones that always made Dean feel like he had done
something good in a past life.  "Hello Dean." 
Dean rushed out from behind the bar and strode across the room. He hadn't
intended to do anything more than reach out to shake Cas' hand. But his brain
and his body were not on same page, because instead he wrapped his arms around
the older man and pulled him into a tight hug. 
He half expected Cas to freeze up or even push away.  It had been ten years,
and Dean was practically a stranger to him now. And he was not oblivious to the
fact that Cas may have only liked him because he'd been a pretty little twink
back then. He'd gotten into a few drunk arguments with Sam over that
possibility. 
But Cas raised his arms and wrapped them tight around Dean's waist. He buried
his face against Dean's shoulder and took a deep breath before letting it out
in a sigh.  "Dean.  I didn’t think you’d come back."  His fingers curled in the
back of Dean’s t-shirt for a moment before he pulled back to pin Dean with a
familiar blue stare.   
Cas still held him, and Dean didn’t quite know what to think of that.  His body
was on board though, so he didn’t pull away.  “Well I’m here now,” he replied.
 Tilting his head to indicate the empty bar behind him, he added, “for good
this time.  I’m kinda invested.” 
That earned him a wide grin.  “So I see.  Congratulations.”  Cas finally let
him go and turned to take in the surroundings.  “And if tonight is any
indication, this place is going to be pretty popular.” 
There was only a few inches separating them now, but Dean felt like it was
miles.  He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around.  “I hope so.  It
would be pretty shitty if I spent everything I had on the place and it
flopped.” 
Cas slanted him a look that Dean wasn’t quite able to read.  “You put a lot of
time and effort into making it successful, and it shows. You always were a hard
worker.  You’ll do just fine.” 
The unexpected praise had Dean’s cheeks flushing.  “Thanks, Cas.” 
They were both silent for a moment, staring each other down.  Just like old
times, really.  Dean coughed a little and gestured to the bar.  “Want something
to drink?” 
“Just some water?  I still have a long drive home, and it is getting late.  And
it’s raining.” 
It definitely was, and it had been all day.  Dean was glad people had still
come to the grand opening despite the weather.  “Yeah, no problem.” 
Dean headed back toward the bar, Cas close behind him.  His heart was
thundering so hard that he wondered if Cas could hear it.  He did his best to
keep his poker face on while he poured Cas a glass of cold water though.  He
just hoped Cas didn’t notice that his hands were trembling when he handed over
the glass.   
Watching Cas’ throat work as he tilted his head back and swallowed down the
water made Dean feel hot all over.  He stayed on his side of the bar, and
shoved his hands in his back pockets to keep himself from doing anything
stupid, like grabbing Cas’ face and smashing their mouths together. 
Damn.  So much for just settling for being friends.  Dean was still gone on the
guy, even after all this time.  But that shouldn’t have been a surprise,
because he could hardly think of anyone he’d been with where he hadn’t thought
of Cas at least once during intimate moments. 
Cas set his glass down and stared at Dean, his lips curved up in a small smile.
 “Adulthood looks good on you.”   
Dean flushed, and coughed a little, unsure how to respond to that.  So he
changed the subject instead.  “So what brought you in here tonight?” 
The look Cas gave him said he was aware that Dean was deflecting, but he
allowed it.  “Jody mentioned the place when I talked to her a few days ago.
 And I wanted to come support a new business.”  He frowned a little.  “I wish
I’d known you were here.  I would have come to visit sooner.” 
Now Dean frowned.  “But… I saw you at the grocery store a few weeks ago.  You
looked right through me, like you didn’t know me.”   
“I never saw you at the store.”   
Cas looked so confused that Dean wondered if he was playing some kind of game
with him.  “Yeah you did.  Remember?  I nearly ran you down with my cart.  You
took off before I could really say hi though.” 
Cas’ expression smoothed out and he smiled a little.  “That wasn’t me, Dean.” 
“Yes it was - wait, what?”  It was Dean’s turn to squint.  “The hell are you
talking about?” 
“That was probably my brother, Jimmy,” Cas explained.  “My twin.” 
Dean stared at him, trying to absorb that information.  It took him a moment to
realize Cas was still talking. 
“... Amelia had mentioned a visitor named Dean.  I was so disappointed to miss
your visit.  I didn’t think you were living here though.  I assumed you were
just passing through.” 
“Whoa, hold on, can we back up?” Dean said as he shook his head in an attempt
to calm down his whirling thoughts.  “You have a twin?” 
“Didn’t I tell you that?” Cas asked.  He frowned in concentration, as he tried
to remember.  “I remember talking to you about my family.” 
They had talked quite a bit about their families.  And now that Dean thought of
it, he recognized the name Jimmy.  “Maybe you did,” Dean said with a shrug.
 “But you didn’t mention that one of your brothers was your twin.” 
“I had a picture of him on my dresser, Dean.” 
“I just thought you really liked your own face.” Dean shook his head and
chuckled ruefully.  “And I couldn’t blame you since I thought you were so damn
gorgeous.” 
Cas laughed softly, his face flushing at the compliment.   
Once again they got caught in a long staring session.  Dean licked his lips,
and Cas’ eyes dropped to his mouth.  The hungry look in his eyes was so
familiar that it made Dean ache.  He wanted nothing more than to drag Cas
across the bar and have his way with him on the floor.  But there was still
Cas’ new family to consider.  
He was going to have to settle for “just friends”.  But he could do it.  He was
still friends with Cassie and Lisa.  He could certainly do the same with Cas.
 “So, uh… what’s gone on with you since I last saw you?” 
Cas sighed and looked away.  He looked sad.  “Very little, really.” 
“What about your family?” Dean didn’t really want to know the details of Cas
falling in love and starting a family, but talking about that shit was what you
did with friends, right?  “That’s new.” 
“Only very recently,” Cas replied.  “Jimmy had some health problems and lost
his job.  I invited him and Amelia and Claire to stay with me until he was
ready to start working again.” 
Wait.  What?  Dean straightened from where he’d leaned against the back bar
where the cash register sat.  “So… they’re Jimmy’s family?  You’re not
married?” 
Cas tilted his head curiously.  “No.  What gave you the impression that I’m
married?” 
Dean’s lips twitched into a bashful smile.  “When I stopped at your house, I
kinda got the idea that Amelia was your wife.” 
Cas stared at him for a moment, his brow furrowed with consternation.  But it
smoothed out and he smiled.  Wordlessly, he lifted his left hand and wiggled
his fingers, bringing Dean’s attention to the fact that he wasn’t wearing the
telltale band of gold. 
“So… not married.” 
“Not married,” Cas agreed gruffly. 
Hope burned through Dean.  He leaned forward, bracing his hands wide on the
bar.  He held Cas’ eyes with his own, and remembered how that stare had made
him feel so shy, and yet so excited when he was seventeen.  “You know, Cas…
that summer is still one of the best memories of my life.” 
A slow smile spread across Cas’ face.  “I’m quite fond of those memories
myself.”   
He leaned forward, and Dean met him halfway.  When their lips touched, it was a
shock at how familiar it felt.  Cas’ lips were still soft and dry.  His stubble
still made the edges of Dean’s lips tingle.  And when Dean inhaled deeply, he
couldn’t help the soft rumble low in his chest when he discovered that Cas
still smelled like he’d been chewing fresh peppermint. 
He shivered a little at the realization.  Fuck, peppermint was like an
aphrodisiac to him, and Cas was the reason why. 
Dean broke the kiss, but stayed close enough that all he could see was the blue
of the older man’s eyes.  “Hey, Cas?” 
“Yes, Dean?” 
“You don’t have to go home any time soon, do you?” 
Cas pulled a little further away, and gave him a considering look.  Dean’s
heart leaped into his throat because oh shit, he probably pushed too fast.  Cas
was going to leave, and Dean wasn’t sure he’d be able to settle for “just
friends” now, because he’d been in love with Cas since he was seventeen, and
he’d never been able to let those feelings fade, and- 
“I have all night, Dean.” 
Oh sweet Jesus.  The implications of those words had Little Dean sitting up and
paying attention. 
“Wanna come back to my place?”   
Dean was no longer surprised by how deep his voice got when he was aroused.
 But the last time he’d spoken to Cas, his voice had been higher pitched.  Cas’
seemed to like what he was hearing though, because his pupils widened, and his
lips went a little slack.  He nodded, and got up from the stool.  He sounded
breathless when he spoke.  “I would like that.” 
“Awesome,” Dean murmured.  “Just let me lock up a few things, okay?” 
Cas nodded wordlessly, and waited as Dean grabbed the cash bag from the counter
behind the bar and shoved it into the safe.  Dean flipped off all the lights
except the ones closest to the door, came out from behind the bar and went over
to lock the door.  He’d intended to put up all the chairs and sweep the floor
before he left, but it could keep until morning.  The Winchester wasn’t open
for breakfast, so he would have plenty of time. 
He gestured for Cas to follow him back to the little hallway where they had run
into each other outside the restrooms.  There were two more doors back there,
one leading to storage, and the other leading to the little studio apartment
Dean now called home.   
“It’s not much,” Dean said as he flipped on the lights.  The bed was an unmade
mess, but at least the kitchenette was clean, and his laundry was all in the
basket for once. 
He turned to see what Cas thought of the space, but was instead startled when
Cas pulled him down into a rough kiss.  Dean opened to it immediately, sliding
his tongue against Castiel’s and moaning into him.  God, this is what he’d
wanted for so long.  Why had he waited so long to come back?  Why had he
waited? 
Cas kissed him like he was dying of thirst and Dean was a twenty ounce bottle
of water.  And fuck if Dean didn’t like it.  Cas had always been gentle and
careful with him when he was seventeen.  But now Cas was rough, his teeth
nipping, his fingers gripping Dean’s cheeks tight.  Dean’s lips would probably
be bruised in the morning if they kept this up. 
Dean had no complaints about that. 
After a moment, Cas pulled away and pressed their foreheads together.  His eyes
were dark with passion, and the realization was like a punch in the gut for
Dean that this was really happening. 
Lightning flashed outside, the bright light easily slipping through the
curtains to brighten the room for a split second, and Dean shuddered as the
memory of another storm floated between them. 
The only sound that broke the silence was the roll of distant thunder, and
their soft breath, and Dean became distantly aware of the fact that he was
taller than Cas by a few inches now.  He wondered if that was as strange to Cas
as it was to him.  But that train of thought was cut off when Cas began to
speak. 
“You wanted to know what’s been going on in my life for the last ten years,
Dean?” he said between soft gasps.  “I’ve been hiding away on that farm, pining
for a boy who promised to come back, but never did.” 
Dean wanted to close his eyes against the hurt in Cas’ expression, but he
didn’t.  Instead he pulled Cas even closer.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly before
placing a gentle kiss at the corner of Cas’ mouth.  “Dad came back and he
needed me, and I- fuck, Cas I should have told you.  Were you really- Did you
really miss me?” 
Cas slid his hands back until he cupped the nape of Dean’s neck.  His nails
scraped through the hair there, sending a shiver down Dean’s spine.  “I loved
you, Dean,” he whispered.   
Dean finally closed his eyes when he heard those words.  Fuck.  If he’d known…
he would have done what he could to keep in touch with Cas, even if he couldn’t
have come back for a few more years.  Maybe they could have still had something
during all that time. 
When he didn’t say anything, Cas must have assumed that he didn’t like what he
heard.  His tone became unsure, and his grip loosened.  “I know it was wrong.
 You were so young, and I took advantage of you.  But you were so damn
beautiful, and you made me laugh, and-” 
“Cas,” Dean interrupted with a soft laugh.  “Calm down, buddy.  You didn’t do
anything wrong.” 
“You were a minor, and-” 
“Cas.” Dean knocked his forehead against the older man’s to get him to stop.
 “The age of consent is sixteen in Kansas.” 
Cas let out a huff of surprised laughter.  “Still…” 
Dean lifted his head, and grinned when he saw how embarrassed Cas looked.
 “Well it doesn’t matter now,” he murmured.  “Because I’m pretty sure twenty-
seven no longer counts as a minor.” 
“Oh, thank God.” 
And then they were kissing again.  Hot and heavy, and bruising.  They began to
tug at each other’s clothing as they stumbled toward the bed.  Cas maneuvered
Dean until he could push him down to sit on the edge of the bed, and then
dropped down to kneel between his knees.  The kiss broke long enough for them
to both remove their shirts, but when Dean leaned forward to catch Cas’ mouth
again the older man pulled back. 
His eyes were wide with lust as they traced Dean’s torso.  His fingers drew
nonsense shapes against his skin, avoiding his nipples, much to Dean’s
frustration.  “Dean,” he breathed softly.  “You grew.” 
Dean’s voice was gruff with nervousness when he spoke.  “Yeah, I’m not a pretty
little twink anymore… kinda filled out.”  He bit his bottom lip, waiting for
Cas’ response.  He’d be lying if he denied that he was afraid Cas wouldn’t be
attracted to him anymore.  Maybe Sam’s accusations that Cas had only liked him
because he was underage had sunk in a little. 
But Cas’ expression held nothing but appreciation.  “You were beautiful then,
and you’re only more beautiful now.” 
Dean rolled his eyes, defaulting to sarcasm because he was feeling a little
overwhelmed by too many emotions all at once.  Apprehension, arousal, joy… “I’m
not a woman, Cas.” 
Cas chuckled.  “No, Dean.  I believe that’s obvious.”  His eyes flicked up to
Dean’s, and his lips twitched in a mischievous smile.  Then he leaned down and
ran the flat of his tongue over Dean’s nipple.   
Dean shuddered, and he dropped his head back on his shoulders as a moan escaped
his throat.  The dusky flesh pebbled immediately under Cas’ tongue. 
“Still sensitive here, I see,” Cas whispered.  Then he caught the nipple
between his lips and suckled gently. 
And Dean was fucking lost to it.   
He’d been with many men and women over the last decade, and yet none of them
had gotten him this excited by playing with his nipples.  Cas wasn’t doing
anything special, just alternating between licking and suckling, but Dean
fucking loved it.  Because it was Cas.  His Cas. 
His hips lifted off the bed when Cas cupped his dick through his jeans.  And he
whimpered when those deft fingers made quick work of the button and zipper and
dipped under the cloth to pull him free.  Dean shifted and pushed his pants
down over his hips and knees, leaving them pooled around his ankles. 
Cas stroked him, his grip gentle to avoid chafing, and Dean thought his head
was going to explode.  Then Cas shifted to lavish attention on his other
nipple, and Dean knew something was going to explode.  “Fuck, Cas… I’m close
man…” 
He’d meant it as a warning so that Cas would back off, and he thought he was
going to get a reprieve when Cas let go of his nipple.  But Cas only dropped
down and sucked the head of Dean’s dick into his mouth. 
Dean let out a little shout and curled his upper body around Castiel.  Holy
Jesus, how could he have forgotten that wicked tongue trick?  But he barely had
time to think that before he was coming, and Cas was moaning and swallowing
and- “Fuck,” Dean hissed as the muscles in his stomach stopped clenching and he
was able to sit up straight again.   
Cas sat back on his heels, and when Dean looked at him, he was a complete
wreck.  His hair was wilder than it had been before, his eyes were nearly black
with lust, and his lips were pink and swollen.  When Cas licked his lips,
catching a little bit of come from the corner that must have leaked out when
Dean was shooting into his mouth, Dean let out a little whine and leaned
forward to kiss him. 
“God, I want you to fuck me,” Dean said when he released Cas.  He wrinkled his
nose, and shook his head ruefully.  “But I might need a little time… not
seventeen anymore, y’know?”  Not that it was obvious from how quickly he popped
his top.  But something about Cas was fucking with his usual self control. 
Cas chuckled and sat back on his heels again.  He tilted his head and smiled up
at Dean as he ran his palms soothingly over Dean’s thighs.  “I can give you
that time.” 
He stood, and began pulling off the rest of his clothes.  It didn’t take long,
since he literally just kicked off his shoes and then shoved his pants and
underwear down all at once.  When he straightened Dean took a moment to examine
him for things that had changed from what he held in his memory.   
Cas still had a runner’s body, covered in miles of lean muscle and tan skin.
 Dean reached out to run his finger along an interesting tan line, and quirked
an eyebrow up at the older man.  “You been running around outside in your
skivvies, Cas?” 
“Swim trunks,” Cas answered with a grin.  “There’s a pool behind the house
now.” 
“Nice.” Those must be some tiny shorts, because very little skin was pale from
lack of exposure to sunlight.  Dean really wanted to see Cas in them. 
By the way things were going, he’d probably get a chance.  The thought filled
him with so much warmth that he felt it pressing outward, trying to escape.  It
made his chest ache, and he had trouble taking a deep breath.  When he felt the
itch at the back of his eyes that usually preceded tears, he leaned forward and
pressed his face into Cas’ hip, turning to nuzzle the hair around his groin.   
The heat of Cas’ dick against his cheek made his own cock stir again.  Huh.
 Maybe he wasn’t seventeen anymore, but Little Dean was definitely regressing
in age.  Well, so was his brain, because “Little Dean”?  Really?  He chuckled
at the thought. 
“I hope that’s not directed at me,” Cas murmured with mock hurt.  The smile was
there in his tone, so Dean knew he wasn’t really offended. 
“Hell no,” Dean answered.  He kept his face pressed to Cas’ hip, but tilted his
head to look up at him.  “I was just thinking that I wouldn’t need all that
much recovery time, after all.” 
Cas’ dick actually jumped in reaction to his words, and Dean finally decided to
give it the attention it deserved.  He licked a long stripe from base to head,
and grinned at the wrecked noise it pulled from Cas.  He liked that sound so
much, that he decided he needed to hear it again, and since he already knew how
to get it… 
After the second lick, Cas gripped the hair at the top of Dean’s head to stop
him from doing it a third time.  “As much as I would love to get my dick back
in your mouth, if you want me to fuck you tonight, you’re going to have to stop
that.  It’s been a very long time, and I know you’ll make me come too soon.” 
That made Dean sit up straight so he could get a good look at Cas.  “How long
has it been?” 
“Ten years.” 
Wow.   
His shock must have been clear on his face because Cas gave him a wink and a
grin.  “None of the other seventeen year olds that came to work for me were as
tempting as you.” 
Dean blinked.  It took him several seconds to realize Cas was joking, and when
he did, he burst out laughing.  When he calmed down, he swept his hands up over
Cas’ thighs and around to grip his ass and pull him a step forward.  He didn’t
touch Cas’ dick, but he leaned close so that it was just centimeters from
brushing against his cheek.  “I’m glad to know I’m the only twink you wanted.” 
Cas reached down and cupped his jaw, running his thumb gently back and forth
over his skin.  “You ruined me for everyone, Dean.” 
Dean closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.  God, if only he’d told his dad
no.  He shouldn’t have left.  Bounty hunting was not the life he wanted, and he
hated himself for taking so long to figure it out. 
If only he hadn’t made excuses not to visit.   
But he’d been young, and unsure of himself.  He’d wanted Cas’ love, but hadn’t
been sure he had it.  Cas hadn’t asked him to stay; had only asked him to come
back to resume his job the next summer.  And Dean had taken it to mean that the
sex had just been fun, and nothing more serious than that.   
Now that he knew Cas had been worried about his age, he understood that he had
been wrong.  His memory of their goodbye took on a different light.  Cas hadn’t
wanted him to go, but he hadn’t felt like he had the right to ask him to stay. 
“Dean?” 
The hesitation in Cas’ voice was fucking painful to hear, because now Dean
recognized it.  It had been there always, in every flirtation, and every sexual
encounter.  
“I want you to fuck me now, Cas,” Dean murmured.  He turned his face and kissed
Cas’ palm, then opened his eyes and looked up at him.  “I need you inside me.” 
Cas sucked in a breath, and nodded.  “Do you have…?” 
Dean nodded and stood.  Cas didn’t step back, and they ended up pressed chest
to chest.  And Cas’ cock was pressed into Dean’s stomach.  And Dean’s dick was
definitely getting back into the game because he was half hard again. 
He put his hands on Cas’ hips and shifted him to the side so that he could kick
his feet free of his shoes and pants and walk over to the bags he hadn’t
unpacked yet.  It only took a few minutes of digging before he came back to the
bed with a bottle of lube and a condom.   
They hadn’t used protection when he was a teen, but Dean had been with plenty
of people in the last years, and had had a few one night stands since the last
time he’d gotten tested.  He’d been safe, but he didn’t want to risk anything. 
Cas didn’t complain though.  He took the proffered items and watched with
hungry eyes as Dean crawled onto the bed and laid down on his stomach.  The bed
dipped when Cas knelt down on the bed behind him, and Dean spread his legs in
invitation. 
“You’ve still got your socks on,” Cas said with a laugh. 
Dean wiggled his toes.  “Sexy, right?” 
Cas laughed again, and Dean grinned into his folded arms at the delight he
heard in Cas’ voice.  He half expected Cas to pull his socks off, but instead
he heard the snap of the lube bottle being opened.  And then slick fingers were
probing at him, sliding into him slowly, first just one, and then another when
Dean began to whimper and press back against them.   
Cas took ages to prep him.  Stretching him slowly and gently, and brushing
against his prostate so gently that Dean began cursing at him after a little
while.  When Cas finally relented to Dean’s begging and slipped on the condom,
Dean was completely recovered from his last orgasm and was riding the edge of
another one. 
They both groaned when Cas sank into him.  And then the sound of skin against
skin filled the room in between murmured curses and praises.   
And holy fuck, Dean had missed this.  Had missed Cas. 
When Cas pulled out and flipped him over, Dean was a wreck.  He whimpered and
pulled Cas down on top of him at the same time he lifted his knees close to his
chest, begging with wordless whines and grasping hands.  And Cas gave him what
he needed, filling him again, and pressing kisses against his face, his neck,
his shoulders.  Anywhere he could reach. 
When he whispered against Dean’s ear that he was close, Dean reached between
them and wrapped trembling fingers around himself.  He jerked himself with no
rhythm, but it didn’t take him long before he was shooting hot and wet over his
chest and fingers, and Cas was crying out, hips stuttering as Dean’s clenching
muscles dragged him over the edge. 
They collapsed together in a breathless heap.  And of course, Dean’s brain to
mouth filter had been dissolved by endorphins.  The storm was raging even
harder outside, rain and wind rattling against the windows and Dean had never
felt more like he belonged somewhere than he did right now, wrapped up in Cas’
warm body. 
“Damn, Cas.  I’m really fuckin’ glad you’re not married.” 
A burst of laughter answered him, and Dean grinned dopily up at Cas when the
older man pushed himself up on his elbows.  He reached up and ran a thumb over
the laugh lines next to Cas’ eye.  They had gotten deeper over the years, but
Cas had never been more beautiful to him than he was right then.  Of course,
he’d probably think that the next time he was still high on a recent orgasm,
too.  But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.   
“I love you,” he blurted.  “I did way back then, too.  I was just too
chickenshit to tell you.”  Cas’ eyes widened in surprise, and Dean chewed on
his bottom lip nervously as he waited for a response.  
Cas’ eyes softened, and he smiled gently.  “I love you too, Dean.” 
Dean let out the breath he’d been holding, and his dopey grin came back.  “So,
you want to stay the night?” 
Cas nodded, and they disentangled themselves long enough to get up and clean
themselves with a washcloth from the little bathroom tucked in the far corner
of the apartment.  They went back to bed without bothering with clothing, and
curled around each other.  The bed was the same size as the one that Dean had
used when he’d stayed with Cas, but somehow it seemed a little smaller now that
Dean was a full grown man.  
It didn’t matter though, because it was still comfortable (memory foam… oh
yeah), and they both fell asleep quickly and easily.  Neither noticed the
passing of the storm. 
They rolled apart at some point in their sleep, and when Dean woke the next
morning, he turned his head on the pillow to see Cas spread out next to him.
 His mouth was open, and he was snoring softly, and Dean had to bite down on
his lip hard so the pain could remind him that he wasn’t dreaming.   
That was Cas in his bed.  Again.  Finally.   
He must have made a noise, or shifted in the bed enough to disturb Cas because
blue eyes opened and stared at him in the early morning sunlight pouring
through the lace curtains.  The skin around them crinkled with a happy smile,
and Dean rolled onto his side to press a kiss against soft lips, undeterred by
morning breath.  He never could resist that smile. 
Warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.  Hearts thudded in tandem,
legs tangled, and Dean moaned as hands made rough by calluses turned soft and
gentle against his skin.   
When the kiss finally ended with their foreheads pressed together, and their
labored breath mingling between them a voice that would be etched on his memory
forever greeted him. 
“Good morning, Dean.” 
Dean chuckled.   
“What?” Cas murmured.  Under the blankets, his hand found Dean’s and tangled
their fingers together. 
“Had a little deja vu there for a minute,” Dean answered.  He squeezed Cas’
fingers back.  “Good morning, Cas.” 
And if Dean had any anything to say about it, which he did because he wasn’t a
kid anymore, there would be many more good mornings for the foreseeable future.
 To his pleasure, Cas was in complete agreement. 
By the end of that summer, Dean could honestly say that The Winchester was a
success.  Jimmy had taken a job as assistant manager giving Dean more time to
spend with Cas.  Amelia and Sam had bonded over the Labor Day weekend when Cas
had invited him and Jo out to the farm to spend a few days around the pool.
 Claire had also decided that Jo was the best aunt ever, and told anyone who
would listen that she wanted to grow up and be a Deputy too. 
And Dean got to see the tiny swim trunks.  He may have wolf whistled.  Twice. 
But the best part of the whole summer was that at the end of it, Dean didn’t
have to leave, because he was already home. 
 
                            Art_by_Thunderjellyfish
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