Baseball and Bass Guitars

Chapter Nine - Born to Be My Baby

The next day, Sunday, the sun has barely peeked over the horizon before Dean's phone is vibrating like crazy and wrenching him from a very good nights sleep. His quickly fading dream was one of bright stage lights, guitar rifts, and screaming fans. Without even lifting his head, Dean sleepily reaches out a hand to fumble around for his phone on his nightstand. His alarm clock and his wallet accidentally end up on the floor before his fingers finally brush over what he's looking for. Dean rubs his sleep heavy eyes and hits the big green button that answers the phone and puts a stop to the infernal vibrating.

"Hmmph?" Dean mutters by way of answer, not knowing who it is on the other line as he didn't even bother looking.

"Wake the hell up you lazy shit."

Dean, whose eyes had drifted shut again, lets out an indignant huff. "Caas." He nearly whines, "Why are you calling me at the ass-crack of dawn?"

He hears Cas laugh through the phone and the sound is enough to make a lazy smile cross his face.

"Just get out of bed I'll be at your house in five." Cas states, and abruptly hangs up the phone, leaving Dean with a confused response hanging on his tongue.

"Alright then." Dean mutters, but proceeds to drag himself out of bed, wondering what the hell Cas is up to so early in the morning. He grabs a pair of gray sweatpants from the pile of clean clothes he swore to Ellen he was going to put away like a week ago and pulls them up over his boxers. 

With his light brown hair sticking every which way, not that he knows that it is seeing as he couldn't be bothered to look in a mirror, Dean treks down the stairs to pour himself a bowl of cereal. He looks at the digital clock atop the fridge as he puts the milk away and rolls his eyes. It's barely six in the morning, not even Bobby is awake this early on a Sunday.

But sure enough, five minutes after he hung up on Dean, Cas is pulling into the driveway, pulling past the worn out Singer Auto sign. Dean knows he's there before even checking out the window, the sound of a motorcycle is pretty unmistakable. 

Dean, bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios in hand, swings open the front door just as Cas is reaching up to knock, just as Cas had done to him two days before.

"Hey." Dean grunts around a mouthful of food, then motions with his spoon for the other boy to come in. 

Dean turns and walks back towards the kitchen saying, "Close the door behind you, but be quiet everyone else is asleep." Then, turning with a smirk, "Just like every other sane person should be."

Cas rolls his blue eyes, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen to lean against the door frame. He folds his arms over his chest and crosses his legs at the ankles, a stance he seems quite fond of.

Dean has settled in at the kitchen table, leaning over his half-gone breakfast. He's shoveled three spoon fulls into his mouth before he looks back up at Cas and finds the other boy's blue eyes locked on him.

"Hmmph?" He questions, not bothering to swallow before he tries to talk. 

There's a smirk on Cas's lips. "Aren't you cold?" He raises an eyebrow.

For the first time, Dean realizes that he didn't put a shirt on when he got out of bed. Oops. He feels an involuntary flush heat up his face but he shakes it off. He drops his spoon in the leftover milk and leans back in his chair, one arm resting on the back of it. Dean knows he's built decently, he is an athlete after all, and he definitely knows this way of sitting is putting his muscles on full display.

Dean returns Cas's smirk with one of his own, "Aren't you a bit hot?" He's talking about the signature black leather jacket wrapped around his boyfriend, but Cas can take it any way he pleases.