Twist and Shout

Chapter 3

It was all so painless, falling in love with Dean.
There was something so mindlessly ordinary about it, like Dean was just another fixture, just another glass in his cupboard that he had begun using. He wasn't there, and then the next day he was, and Cas couldn't remember the hours before him. Before his hands or his mouth or his eyes, before these things slid over his body and touched him and adored him. Dean would often stop and stare at him, his eyes wide and wondering, as if he was just seeing Cas for the first time all over again, like was suddenly rediscovering him, and his face would melt into something so glad. Dean never stopped asking Cas where he had been before they met. What corner of the world he had been hiding in for so long, and Cas would always find it easier to kiss him than to say. The truth was Cas could never answer because he'd forgotten it; there was no real before Dean. Whatever time it was held no meaning anymore and his brain had discarded it.
It was the heat of summer now; Cas slept on the mattress with the sheets tangled at his feet - the April party was a distant memory. A twinkling light in a window. Every day since was as blinding and brilliant as the sun and as the heat set in, so did Dean. His skin was sticky with kisses, and the little bruises under his collar starting to become a pain to cover up. Every time he adjusted his shirts in class he felt the whisper of Dean's hands on his sides and had to shift, glancing around. He was baffled that no one had approached him about Dean; there were times he considered himself so transparent he was certain everyone must have known about the bed he'd been in the night before, had known about the things he'd been saying, the confessions he'd made and the laughter he'd coaxed out of Dean's mouth. Why else would anyone smile that much for no reason? Especially then.
The war loomed over all of them. It stood like a guillotine, the blade swinging on a tired rope, waiting to fall on any of them at any time. Cas had managed to keep it arm's length with school, but the threat of Dean being drafted clouded his mind on lonely nights when Dean was on the graveyard shift. Dean was desperate to get Sam into law school, and if he wasn't racing he was working, bartending at the icehouse off the interstate, sometimes waiting or bussing tables for extra tips if the man who owned it let him. If he wasn't working Cas would be lucky enough to have him in his bed. Cas would sit at his cramped desk, trying to ignore the traffic outside long enough to learn about the nervous or circulatory system, the radio playing. Sometimes he'd scan the obituaries but there hadn't been anyone he'd recognized for a long while. Boys were still dying, but at least he didn't know them. He papered his mind with Dean instead, losing himself in waiting for him to show up next, for his phone to ring and for it to be Dean on the other end.
Often he felt cruel for being in school - for being able to avoid conscription - but Dean's face was fiercly proud when he told him about his tests or papers, and he always managed to be flexible around exams and deadlines. He put Cas first.
Nobody had ever done that for him before.
"You're smart," he'd say. "You're so smart, Cas. It's better you're here. You're gonna learn how to save people's lives, you know? Same way Sammy is gonna learn how to defend them. I'd die if they took you over there and fucked you up."
For all Cas loved him, the reality was difficult to manage. They met during the day if they could help it to not attract suspicion, and if Cas could he'd take the bus to Dean's apartment and stay the night. Dean lived on the top floor of his building, and no one gave a shit about what happened on the top floor, or so he said. Cas had a growing suspicion he paid off his landlord to not ask questions. Cas didn't want to think about it the same way he didn't want to think of what would happen if they were caught. He just tried to believe Dean when he said they'd do it their way and fuck the rest. Cas had never been braver. He dared his brothers to show up and say something about it, dared to see what they would say about Dean.
He'd tear them a new one this time.
But all these things, at the moment, didn't matter. It was August, and, for the first summer of his life, he was in love.
He twitched in his sleep, shifting so his arm wasn't caught under his chest, his feet stirring the nest of blankets at the foot of the bed. A siren wailed, muffling the careful clanks on the fire escape and he stirred slightly. There was a slight groan of the window casement as someone slid it up and Cas moved again, sighing.
"Dean," he rumbled, his voice thick with sleep, and there was the snap of Dean pushing the window back down, walking across the room, stopping halfway to slip his boots off and kick them under Cas' nightstand. Cas groaned, the mattress moaning with him when Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his shoulder.
"You awake?" he whispered, and Cas shook his head.
"No, I'm asleep," he breathed, turning towards Dean's touch, rubbing his face with one sleepy hand and cracking his eyes. Dean smiled at him through the dark, stroking his damp forehead as the electric fan oscillated, ruffling his humidity-limp hair.
"You look awake to me..." Dean continued, and his voice was low and calm, but Cas could hear the excitement simmering underneath. He was in one of those moods, it seemed.
"Someone is going to hear you one of these days. Or think you're trying," he paused, kissing Dean back, "to burgle me."
Dean smiled against his mouth and pulled away, the mattress squeaking as he stood and clumsily stripped his clothes, lowering himself back onto the bed, crouched over Cas, holding him in with his legs on either side of his hips. He ran his hands appreciatively over Cas' stomach, snapping the elastic on his underwear with a small pop.
Cas laughed, trying to roll his face away, but his hands were already wandering over Dean's shoulders as Dean leaned in, trying to kiss him.
"What time is it?" he asked as Dean brushed his mouth over Cas' neck.
"Three," Dean answered, and Cas shook his head, trying to move Dean away with his shoulder.
"Dean, stop, I wanna sleep," he whined, giving up so quickly he wondered why he even attempted.
"It's Thursday- you don't have class on Fridays," Dean whispered, sealing their mouths together again. Cas kissed him back lazily, still waking up, his fingers skimming over Dean's back.
"Did you miss me?" Cas continued, and Dean kissed his chin, looking into his sleepy eyes.
"Is the day long?" came the reply and Cas smiled, framing Dean's face with his hands, combing upwards through his hair and watching it fall back into place. Dean ducked his head, and Cas opened his mouth, tongue slicking against the wet heat of Dean's. Dean pulled back and Cas followed, his head lifting off the pillow, but Dean was too quick and had begun to work his way down Cas' neck, towards his bare chest.
"God, I missed you," Dean said against the hollow of his throat and Cas 'mm'ed in agreement, fingers still tangled in Dean's hair and sliding to the nape of his neck. "All shift I couldn't stop thinkin' about getting back here. Fuckin' going crazy all week..."
Dean's hand slithered under his waistband and curled around his dick, squeezing it gently, and Cas' eyes fluttered shut.
"Dean," Cas mumbled and Dean nipped at the place where his neck met his shoulder before soothing it with his tongue. Had it only been a week? It'd felt like months. He'd only gotten a few hushed 'I love you's into the payphone receivers at the bar;the rest of the time, Dean had been training for the tournament coming up in two weeks and Cas had been cramming for his summer midterms.
"Crazy, Cas," he repeated, and Cas nodded, lost in the heat and the loose stroke of Dean's hand. He could feel Dean outlined against his thigh, starting to get hot and hard, and he let his hand drift across Dean's chest and over his abdomen, mirroring his actions. Dean hissed as Cas touched his cock, the back of his hand stretching the front of Dean's boxers. Cas smiled, tugging the clothes down and away, Dean shifting to help him, and then Cas lifted himself up so Dean could pull his own off.
Dean settled onto him, rolling his hips, rutting against Cas' skin, their dicks dragging together in a slow motion that made Cas' fingers curl into his pillowcase. He moved sleepily with Dean, meeting the slow fuck of his hand when Dean's fingers closed around both of them, stroking almost lazily while they rocked together.
Dean smoothed his hand over Cas' chest, and Cas found his own hand covering it, their fingers tangling, and Cas felt the way Dean slightly shifted his weight into Cas' palm, his other slicking precome over them, making every cant of Dean's hips a smooth stroke against Cas' cock.
The bed creaked and Cas whimpered, his body feeling tight and warm. The thought of coming with Dean made him sigh and gasp.
"Kiss me..." he mouthed and Dean bent, obliging him.
Cas rolled his hips forward, fucking himself into Dean's hand and against him, gasping again. Dean took the moment to pull away, mouthing along Cas' jawline with just a hint of teeth, and Cas wrapped his fingers around the nape of Dean's neck, fingers curling in the fine hairs there.
"Dean," he whined, and Dean hushed him, brushing his lips over his cheek as he rocked his hips down against him.
"Shh, it's okay, baby. I got you."
Cas nodded, fingers slipping through Dean's hair as they rocked against each other, Dean dragging his hand over them slowly, agonizingly slow, and it was almost unbearable. Cas tugged at Dean's hair, and Dean pulled back, fingers squeezing around their dicks, causing Cas to gasp.
"Gonna make it good," Dean kissed the corner of Cas' mouth, and Cas' hips jerked forward. "So good," he smiled, panting softly against Cas' skin.
Dean loosened his grip on them, stroking in a slow, steady rhythm ] against each other. Cas whimpered, his body felt as tight as a coil, and he moved his hand to grip at Dean's shoulder, fingers pressing into muscle. Cas turned his head away as Dean nosed behind his ear before pulling back, only to continue along his jaw and.
"Look at me, wanna see you" - and Cas turned his face to look at Dean, his cheeks flushed and body hot, and Dean pressed his hips down, fingers squeezing gently; then Cas was coming, mouth falling open in a gasp. He squeezed his eyes shut, back arching off of the bed, nails biting into Dean's shoulder, and Dean stroked him through his orgasm, hushing him and kissing along his neck.
Moments later, Dean was coming, pressing his face into the crook of Cas' neck with a grunt, hips stilling. His breath was hot against Cas' neck, but Cas didn't have the energy to complain; instead, he wound his arm around Dean's shoulders and pressed his face into his hair.
"I love you."
He could feel Dean smile against his neck, lips grazing over his skin, and a breath of laughter as Dean nuzzled the side of his neck.
"I love you too," he mumbled softly, rolling off Cas to lay beside him.
They were sticky, the come on their stomachs quickly drying, the heat and the sweat on their skin uncomfortable, but Cas didn't want to move. Instead, he rolled onto his side, dragging his lips over Dean's shoulder. Dean hummed softly, and Cas watched as he closed his eyes, hand drifting to card fingers through his hair.
"Can we stay here forever?"
"Forever's a long time, Dean."
Dean shifted, turned slightly, and looked down at Cas; palm cupping his cheek, thumb swiping over his bottom lip.
"Yeah, well-"
"-And it's the middle of summer and it's hot and sticky, and gross."
"Cas, you're thinking about this too much."
Cas rolled his eyes and pressed closer to Dean.
"It's a long time."
"Well, yeah, but..." Dean faltered, and there was a moment of silence between them, Dean's hand moving to card through Cas' hair again. "I just wanna stay here, with you, forever."
"Not here. Somewhere nicer since this place is a dump."
Dean smiled and Cas laughed softly.
"Your place, maybe. It's definitely nicer."
"Or our own place. A house."
Cas stared up at Dean, and Dean moved again, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to Cas' forehead. He shifted onto his side, curling an arm around his shoulders to pull him against his chest.
"One with a yard, a nice yard, and a fence."
Cas wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, tucking his head beneath his chin. He smiled and laughed softly, just the thought alone making him giddy. He was in love with Dean Winchester, and here they were, in bed together, talking about getting a house together; talking about their future.
"Can we get a dog?"
Dean sighed softly, arm tightening around Cas.
" No dogs."
"Why?"
"Cause' I said so."
Cas didn't know at what point he drifted back to sleep, but the next time he opened his eyes Dean was at the edge of the bed, putting his boots on. Cas blinked blearily at him and put his hand out to touch his back, Dean leaning back to kiss him quickly.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered, the sun just beginning to creep in through the window. Cas groaned tiredly and Dean chuckled, kissing his bare shoulder when he rolled towards him, hand still playing absently with the edge of Dean's shirt.
"Have a good day," Cas mumbled and Dean tucked another kiss into his hairline. He stamped his boot lightly, situating his heel in it.
"I'll come back on Saturday," he hushed and Cas nodded against his pillow, exhaling.
"Train hard," Cas said softly and Dean stroked his hair and the side of his face, watching him fall back asleep.
"I love you," he murmured, and Cas nodded again, already floating back into a dream.
"You too," he yawned, turning his face into the mattress, pulling the sheets and blankets up around him.
It was around five o'clock that it happened, when Cas was forced to remember that Dean's love didn't really make him invincible. The world beyond Cas' bed was treacherous and scared of them;the most Cas could have done was anticipate it, but he was blinded by adoration.
Cas was surprised to see Hester when she knocked on the door, her blond hair held back by a stiff white band, her shoes bright and glossy black, her white hands gripping her pocket book like it would be stolen. She smiled nervously at him and Castiel had to suppress his initial questions.
What are you doing here, mainly. He hadn't really ever had Hester over. It never seemed right making her come to his apartment when she was so hopelessly under the impression they could be something.
"Hester?" he smiled, opening the door wider and letting her in. Her heels made a dull sound on the floor. Cas saw her look around, worrying her lip with her teeth, eyes flickering over the second hand furniture and sparse kitchen counters. Cas clicked the latch on the door and turned to her, catching her attention.
"Can I get you anything?" he insisted, watching her with concern.
She laughed forcedly, a hand coming up to cover her mouth like she was embarrassed. She shook her head, her face retaining a grave quality. Cas' stomach clenched in uncertainty. He took a step closer and she stiffened.
"Hester, what are you doing here?" he tried to smile, but she wouldn't meet his eyes for long; her gaze kept darting around, or to the floor.
"Must be cramped," she said softly, after a moment, and Cas stared at her. "What with Dean here."
"Dean?" Cas replied, too quickly, his voice breathy, the word flat and shapeless. Not like she had said it. She'd said it like it was something awful dead under a sink, like she'd stained her dress just by saying it. Hester's face hardened into something painful and frightened. Her eyes glowed as two accusing stars on her milky, painted skin.