Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“But your good Lord doesn’t need to lift a finger, I can fix him, no really I can.

And only I can.” 

It was a brisk Thursday morning in February and Castiel Novak was heading into town. His horse was carrying goods he had planned to sell to some local shops; he had jars of honey from his beehives, some marionberry, strawberry, and fig preserves, and some eggs all tightly packed away on his American quarter horse, Hannah. 

As he made it to town, the fog had lifted, the warmth of the sun welcomed as they’ve had weeks of cloudy skies. 

After selling most of his goods to Ellen and Bobby, the owners of Harvelle’s bar and lunchroom, he walked up to the sheriff's office, knowing Sheriff Jody Mills enjoyed his preserves and he had saved a jar for her. 

Tying up Hannah to a post, Castiel headed inside, jar in hand. 

“Good morning, Sheriff Mills.” Castiel said. He looked around the small jail, and noticed there was someone in one of the cells, curled up on the cot, appearing to be fast asleep. 

Jody Mills looked up from her desk. “Ah, good morning Mr. Novak. Is that what I think it is?” She eyed the jar.

“It is,” Castiel said with a smile. Titling his head towards the cell, he lowered his voice. 

“Who’s that?”

Jody rolled her eyes. “ That is Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. He had definitely heard of Dean Winchester. Nephew of Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle, Dean Winchester was, well, he was a lot of things. Incredibly handsome was the first thing Castiel thought of. He was also a troublemaker, got rowdy and drunk almost every night; picking fights with people, regulars and those just passing through. He didn't have any sort of job, living out in his dead dad’s cabin over the hill behind Castiel’s farm. Whenever he made it to town, it was either to do some handiwork at Ellen’s bar, or get drunk at Ellen’s bar, causing fights. It seemed most of the town ignored him, not taking up his offer for more work, assuming he was just like his father. 

“What’s he done?” Castiel asked, curiosity etched in his tone. 

Jody sighed. “Got drunk, started a fight.”

”So, nothing new?

Jody paused, her face looking pained. “Apparently, one of the men involved was the son of the head of the bank.”

Cas grimaced. “Ketch?”

Jody nodded. ”Yep. Apparently they're repossessing his father’s land…unpaid debt…” She paused, taking a breath. “I know Dean’s had a rough upbringing, but I guess he wants to keep the house, but…” She made a knowing look. 

It was well known throughout the town that Dean Wincehster’s father, John, had been a rather unpleasant man; caused a lot of problems amongst the townsfolk, and distrust followed him, and unfortunately, followed Dean well into adulthood. 

Castiel hummed, empathetic. He was new to town, having moved only about six months ago, and felt like he was only just now getting some trust of the otherwise closed off town. They trusted their own, or at least, those who earned it.

An idea suddenly came to Jody’s mind, getting Castiel’s attention. 

”Hey, aren't you still looking for a helping hand on the farm? You’re always putting up help wanted flyers every couple weeks and those you take on never seem to stay for much time.” Jody observed.

Castiel gaped at Jody. Yes, that was true, he had been looking for an extra set of hands; someone to clean up the barn, and his cabin needed some work done. But every drifter he hired to help always disappointed him. 

“But I keep a dry house…” Castiel had been sober ever since he saw what alcohol did to his mother and he didn't want that in his home. 

Jody shrugged. “That might be good for Dean honestly. I mean, he’s nothing like his father was, but maybe if he had a support system…a place to stay that didn't have any drink, could be helpful.” 

Castiel pondered. Dean did look like he could b e very handy, and the wages he'd earn could go towards his father’s debt. Something in Castiel’s heart told him to give Dean a chance, and it would prevent Dean from ending up the same way his father had. 

“Alright.” he agreed.

Jody beamed at him. “Alrighty, I’ll go wake him up and give him the good news.”

“Wait, right now?” Castiel tried not to look worried at the thought of waking up Dean. He could be an angry sleeper, the times Castiel had seen Dean get kicked away at the bar in the early hours of the morning, the snappiness and volatile language Dean would shout was not for the faint of heart. 

Jody went over to unlock the cell.  “Rise and shine, Winchester.” She shouted, tapping the keys against the iron bars. 

Dean let out a growl, curling up into himself as he pulled the pillow over his head. 

Castiel shot an apprehensive look towards Jody, who didn’t relent. 

“Come on Dean, I’ve a job for you…well, we do, actually.” 

Dean let out a huff, and after a moment, he propped himself up on his elbows. 

Castiel couldn’t help thinking how adorable Dean looked. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his sun tanned face flushed with sweat, his eyes squinting up at Jody. Castiel noticed Dean’s face was unmarked, however his hands were scraped, presumably from the brawl the night before. 

Seeing that Jody was not alone, Dean's face planted back into the pillow, letting out a groan. He swung his jean clad legs over the cot, and after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he peered up at Jody and then glanced at Castiel. A curious expression grew on his face as he pulled on his boots. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, Mr. Novak?” Dean’s voice was deep, rough from the drinking and sleep he had. 

“Novak here is gonna take you in, give you a job, a roof over your head.” She paused as Dean gaped at her. “Wages will go towards your father’s debt, and hopefully you’ll get to keep the house.”  

“But—But no one lasts long at Mr. Novak’s,” Dean spluttered. “No disrespect, sir, but they always run off, would rather be anywhere else…”

Castiel furrowed his brow. He didn’t think he was that hard on those he had hired. He had a routine and liked those living with him to respect that. He's had to kick out a few troublemakers, and those that had complained of the lack of alcohol…

”Annnddd,” Dean continued. “He doesn’t keep any alcohol.” Dean’s voice sounded like a whine, and Castiel scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

Ah, so that was the issue. Castiel was very strict about alcohol ever since two travelling handymen had nearly burnt down his barn when they got drunk from stolen whiskey. 

“And that could be good for you.” Castiel offered. 

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, a faint pink blush on his cheeks but he didn’t respond, just huffed. 

“Alright.” He murmured, standing up. He wobbled a bit, shaking his head as he tried to regain his balance.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still drunk?” 

Dean smirked, leaning against the iron gate separating him and Castiel. 

“Yes, angel, I am.” He smiled at Castiel, who bristiled under his gaze. 

“Alright, first rule: no flirting.” Casitel said sharply, his face flushing against his will. He had definitely heard that Dean was a huge flirt, especially drunk, and as gay as Castiel was, he knew that would be very unprofessional. 

Dean licked his lips, his eyes travelling down Castiel’s body. Nodding, he stood up straighter. 

“Yes, sir.” he said, the smirk not leaving his face. 

Castiel rolled his eyes, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. 

“And what’s the second rule?” Dean asked, his tone softening. 

Castiel tilted his head. “Are you serious about this, Dean? Because as much as I would appreciate your help on my farm, I would want you to try to refrain from drinking as much as possible…” 

Dean blinked at him, surprised by the sincerity he heard in Castiel’s voice. Could he give up drinking? He wasn’t sure; it had been getting worse, he had realized lately. And with it getting worse, he had a harder time getting work,, which meant less money he was making which meant he was on the verge of losing his parents’ cabin. 

Swallowing, Dean nodded, and reached a hand between the iron bars. Castiel smiled at him, gripping his hand in a solid handshake. 

“Well great!” Jody exclaimed. 

Jody took Dean to his father’s cabin to collect some things while Castiel finished his errands.

An hour passed, and the two men began the trek back to Castiel’s farm.

———————————-

The silence between the two men was tense as they headed to Castiel’s farm. The clouds had come back, blocking the sun and keeping the air pleasantly cool, but darker clouds were hovering over the mountains in the west. Dean was walking alongside his horse, Baby; she was a black beauty, and Dean’s pride and joy. Over her back hung a bag of his things: some clothes, and his father’s gun.

Dean tried not to ogle at Castiel as the man walked in front of him, leading his horse. Castiel Novak kept to himself mostly; while others gathered at the various pubs and socialized with live music and gossip, Dean himself making his way wherever the night took him, Castiel was never seen there. Dean had actually never seen the man, until a month after Castiel had purchased the land from an old beekeeper named Cain and his wife Colette, who were heading south for warmer weather.

When Dean had seen Castiel for the first time it was summer, the heat stifling, and the man was practically glowing; his tanned skin glistening with sweat as he hauled some stuff onto his wagon. The man was beautiful, and Dean was immediately entranced.

His black untidy hair was a stark contrast to his otherwise put together appearance; his cotton pants clean, his shirt orderly tucked, his blue suspenders the only color against his beige and charcoal clothes. But when he turned around, his eyes made Dean’s heart skip a beat; his eyes were almost glowing, the blue so bright, it was almost hypnotizing. 

Dean took a swig from his flask, the whiskey warming his stomach as he became more relaxed. Alcohol helped him talk to people in general, and allowed him to flirt shamelessly. He watched Castiel, and was a second away from making his move, when a woman came out of the shop, her eyes sparkling as she walked up to Castiel. 

Dean huffed, recognizing the woman’s flirtatious smile as he had donned that same kind of smile when he flirted, and hadn’t stayed to see what transpired between the two. There was no way someone as respectful and nice as Castiel would go for a loser like him anyway. 

But now he was on his way to Castiel’s farm, and he was going to have to work on hiding his attraction to the man. 

When he had woken this morning, it was to the distinct voice of Castiel, the voice that sent shivers down Dean’s spine. That voice sounded like sex to Dean, and he had curled up on the cot, trying to will away dirty thoughts that were coming to mind as Castiel conversed with the sheriff. He was also still drunk, and that always made him more loose and the flirtation that transpired when he had gotten up was not abnormal, but now that he was sober, hungover definitely, but sober, he felt embarrassed and hoped Castiel wasn't uncomfortable. 

This was going to be a hard couple of months, and Dean was not thinking it was going to be hard because of the labor.  

Castiel could feel Dean’s gaze on him as they walked the dirt path leading up to Castiel’s farm. Dean was going to work for him, the help greatly needed, and Castiel knew he could help Dean become sober, but the immediate attraction Castiel felt towards the man when he first laid eyes him was still there, even months later, and Castiel knew he was going to have to work hard to keep this strictly professional. 

The man was beautiful, as beautiful when Castiel first saw him; he had been unloading some of his goods, about a month after moving into the town, and he was trying to set up some professional relations with the local grocer, bringing some eggs and jams. His friend, Meg was helping, as she was passing through on her way to her girlfriend’s home a few towns over. As he unloaded his products, he felt eyes on him, and a quick glance over his shoulder he saw a tall man eyeing him, his green eyes bright against his sun tanned skin. He had a constellation of freckles over his face, and Castiel felt a sudden heat in his gut at the thought of tracing those freckles with his finger. Or lips. He had quickly shaken that thought away. 

Later he would learn who the man was. Dean Winchester. Gossip was prevalent in the town and from what Castiel overheard, Dean was “just like his father” from one half of the town, while the other viewed him as very helpful and handy, but it became apparent to Castiel very quickly that no one came to Dean’s defense. Fights would break out at pubs, and Dean always seemed involved and ended the night in a cell. 

Castiel grew curious about the man. As he got to know the town, he quickly learned gossip was a main passtime, and involuntarily, he learned that Dean was a flirt when he drank, at least that's what the old grocer told him when he was trying to sell some eggs to her. 

Then one evening, Cas was dropping off products at a bar when he had overheard Dean flirting with the barkeep named Benny. Knowing Dean enjoyed the company of men as well, Castiel’s interest piqued, but anytime Castiel saw Dean, the man would barely give him a look. Disappointed but understanding, Castiel believed he was just an average, quiet man, and definitely not interesting or as beautiful as Dean Winchester, so why would he be interested in Castiel? 

Blinking back to the present, Castiel continued on, ignoring Dean's gaze. This was going to be perfectly fine. He assured himself. Though he was going to have to tell Dean to call him by his first name, he hated being called ‘Mr. Novak’.

When they got past the fence that surrounded Castiel's property, Dean got a better view of his cabin. It was one story, with a wrap-around porch. The barn was off to the back on the right, and on the left there were fences bordering off the garden. The chicken coop was next to the garden, fenced off as well and a trail of a stone path led the way from the cabin to the garden. 

“Baby can stay with Hannah, in the barn,” Castiel said, leading Hannah towards the barn. After the horses settled, Dean's belongings now in a crate in his arms, his bag over his shoulder, Castiel took him towards the back of the house. 

“Over there,” he pointed towards the trees. “There are the beehives. I have four in total, and they've just come out of hibernation.” 

Then Castiel led Dean back towards the front of the cabin. Walking through the porch and into the mudroom, Castiel removed his boots and coat, hanging them up by the door. Dean set the crate of his belongings and bag of his clothes on the bench and removed his shoes as well. There was an empty hook next to Castiel's coat, so Dean hung up his coat there. 

Castiel took a breath, signaling Dean to follow.

“And here is the living room. Feel free to borrow any of the books.” He said, gesturing towards the bookcase. 

“Over there is the kitchen,” he pointed towards the right, where there was also a circular table, and some chairs. 

Dean hummed in acknowledgement. 

“So…Mr Novak.” Dean started eyeing Castiel’s cabin. He noticed how neat and clean the cabin was; one wall was floor to ceiling shelves, filled with books, and there was a fireplace as well. Dean looked around, and then a droplet of water hit his cheek. Looking up, he noticed the roof was leaking, and with a quick glance around the floor he saw small bowls placed throughout the living space. 

“What things did you want me to do first?”

”First, call me Castiel, and you don’t have to start anything today, I’ll just draft up a schedule and we can go over it at supper? Let me show you to your room.” 

Dean followed Castiel down the hall, to the back of the cabin, noticing there was a cross hanging above the entryway.

Castiel turned down the left side of the hallway, and opened up a door.

“This is your room; and you can use the bathroom across from here.”  He pointed to the small door. There’s a tub in there for you, it might be too small for you and if it is, you can use mine across the hall.. Just let me know.” 

Dean looked over his room. The bed was full size, bigger than his cot back home that was for sure. There was a small wardrobe and a desk pushed up against the wall. A sink and washbasin were tucked in the corner. 

“Looks cozy.” Dean said. 

“If it gets too cold, you can use the wood stove. I’ll let you get settled for now.” And with that, Castiel left Dean alone. 

Dean sighed quietly as he looked around his room. He was already growing more and more interested in Castiel, and he thought sticking to ‘Mr. Novak’ would be the best way to keep his interest quelled. And to keep his dick in his pants. 

Unpacking, he placed his clothes into the dresser, and his father’s gun tucked under the bed within arm’s reach. He didn't have anything else that belonged to him, but when he had collected his clothes, he had snuck a bottle of whiskey underneath. Castiel hadn’t explicitly said ‘no alcohol’, and Dean did want to try to stop drinking, but having the bottle offered a sense of security; he worried he would revert back to how he was before he started drinking; timid and anxious; a stuttering fool his father once drunkenly called him. 

He placed the whiskey in his dresser drawer, underneath his clothes. 

Cas had made his way down the hall to his bedroom; his heart beating erratically. 

Dean already made him flustered, and he hoped Dean didn't notice. He barely knew Dean, and yet he was already feeling an immense sense of care for the man. 

Once his heart rate felt semi normal, Cas got out a piece of paper and a pen to make a list of duties for Dean. He had heard that Dean had a good work ethic, but if he was going to also try being sober, that could affect his physical health, and Castiel didn't want to overwhelm the man. 

———————————

Castiel had prepared an easy supper for them; a salad with fresh vegetables from his garden, a roasted chicken, and a pitcher of juice. Once the spread was set at the table, he had called for Dean and now they were sitting at the table, and Castiel prayed to whatever god was listening that Dean couldn't hear his fast beating heart. 

“Well, dig in.” 

Dean shot him a confused look, and Castiel titled his head, confused. 

“Everything okay, Dean?”

“Er, don't you say grace, Mr Novak?”

Castiel blinked. “No? I’m sorry, do you want to? I didn't mean to assume, I’ve just never seen you at any of the church's services.”

Dean blushed. So Castiel did go to church. But what made his stomach flutter was that Castiel had noticed he didn't. 

“Er, no.” Dean cleared his throat, and then nodded towards the cross over the hallway. 

Castiel looked over and then let out a small ‘oh’. 

“No, I don't say grace. And frankly, I'm not religious, at least not strictly so, you don't have to worry about me “preaching” to you, in case you were.” He clarified, looking at Dean with a soft expression. 

Dean’s brows were furrowed, still looking confused. “But you go to church?” 

“Mmm, yes, more to be a part of the community; and it's a nice routine. And the sermons can be inspiring, even comforting sometimes.” he paused, then tilted his head towards the cross. “That’s just a family heirloom.” He shrugged, looking at Dean softly.  

Dean hummed, and then a quick glance at his plate, he looked up at Castiel.

“Thank you for dinner, Mr. Novak.” 

Castiel sighed, but did not pester about his name, he’ll tackle that later. He smiled softly at Dean; he had noticed Dean seemed much more reserved than he had been this morning…and well than any other time Castiel had seen him. Whenever he saw Dean, the man seemed extroverted, chatting with any of the people passing through town who were outside of any of the bars in town. Seeing this reserved version of the man was unexpected, but also curious.

Once they were done with supper, Castiel brought over the schedule he had written out earlier. 

“I think we can start off relatively easy,” he started, handing Dean the paper. “In the morning, you can check on Baby, and my horse, Hannah.” Castiel had noticed how well maintained and cared for Baby was, and knew Dean could handle Hannah. I’ll have you be in charge of the barn as a whole; keeping it cleaned, well stocked with hay, and the like. Does that sound good so far?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean said, his eyes roaming the paper. 

“Dean, you don't have to call me that.” Castiel softly said. But Dean didn't look up, his brows furrowing as he read. 

“Everything okay?” Castiel asked, growing worried. “After the barn chores, you get to do whatever you want, and then you can help me prepare dinner.” 

Dean locked up finally, his eyes narrowed. 

“Is this–is this it?” 

Castiel blinked, then nodded. “I mean, yes? What do you mean?” His brows furrowed. 

“I mean...” Dean paused, biting his lip. “You sure this is all fine? I don't know, I was just expecting ‘hard labor’.” 

Castiel’s expression softened. “I mean, for now, yes, that's it. And it's because,” he paused, careful with how he worded the next thing. “Have you ever tried being sober, Dean?” 

Dean gulped, his face reddening, in shame or anger, Castiel wasn't sure. He shook his head, looking away from Castiel. 

“So, when you stop drinking, it can affect your well being, and I’m not sure –”

“I’ll be fine, sir.” Dean said firmly, clearly getting uncomfortable with where this conversation was headed.

“I have no doubt Dean, but physically your body might react differently, and I want to make sure you recover before doing any ‘hard labor’.”

“I don't need to be treated like I'm fragile.”

Castiel titled his head, a perplexed expression on his face.  “I don't think you’re fragile, Dean. I just want to help, and you're doing me a favor as well. Don't think this is a one sided affair, we’re both helping each other out. Okay?”

Dean huffed, but remained silent. 

“Once you get the hang of things, and comfortable with the routine, I can give you more responsibility.”

Dean remained silent, looking over the paper, and after a moment, he nodded .

“May I be excused, Mr. Novak?” 

Castiel grimaced, but nodded. This didn't end the way he imagined, but it was the first night. Taking a breath, he listened as Dean moved around his room. He then began cleaning up supper, hoping tomorrow will be better. 

* * *

Dean laid awake in his bed, unused to the comfortable and clean smelling mattress. He already felt like a fuck up, and his nerves were making him feel like he was going to lose his dinner. He was also starting to feel an itch under his skin, but chalked it up to his nerves, and he didn’t want to annoy Castiel anymore than he felt he already had. 

Chapter Text

“He had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn't met me yet”

“Mr. Novak…Mr. Novak?”

Castiel stirred awake, a light pressure tapping against his shoulders. Blinking away sleep, his room was dark, and there was a figure standing over his bed.

“Mmm, Dean? What is it?” 

Dean was breathing heavily, and it appeared he was fidgeting. 

“Are you alright?” Castiel yawned, sitting up. 

“Um..Mr. Novak–” Dean’s voice wavered, but Castiel couldn't see anything else so he reached over and turned on a light. 

Castiel winced slightly as warm light flooded his room, and after clearing his vision, he looked up towards Dean. Dean was shifting on his feet, his face flushed red, and his hands were rubbing up and down his arms and around his neck.

“Dean?” Castiel grew worried as he eyed Dean. 

“Mr. Novak, I don't know what's wrong, but I’m like… itchy all over and–” He paused, scratching at his neck. “And there's these red bumps everywhere.” 

Castiel's mind woke up fully when he realized what may be happening. “Dean–those look like hives…are you–are you allergic to anything?” 

“Allergic? No I don’t…I don't think so.”

Castiel got out of bed, cupping Dean’s face. He wasn’t feverish, which was good, but he was breathing rather erratically, and his face seemed to flush even redder. Castiel looked at Dean’s widening eyes, growing more worried. 

"Dean, can you take a deep breath for me?” 

Dean’s eyes were staring downward, and when Castiel squeezed his shoulder, Dean’s eyes snapped up. 

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. After a few breaths, Dean’s breathing started to regulate, but his hands kept moving along his arms, clearly still uncomfortable. 

“Sit down, Dean.” Castiel ordered, walking swiftly to the bathroom. Getting out a tub of aloe vera lotion, he walked back to Dean. 

“Start rubbing this on your skin, it’ll alleviate the itch.”

Dean was still staring at the ground, his face flushing. 

“Dean?” 

Dean didn't look up, but shut his eyes. “Mr. Novak, could you put some…some clothes on please.” His voice cracked, his eyes still shut. 

Castiel’s brows furrowed but then looking down at himself, he realized he was in nothing but his white boxers, which were hanging dangerously loose on his hips. His face reddening now, Castiel swiftly grabbed his robe hanging by his door, wrapping it around himself. 

“My apologies, Dean, I–” 

Dean mumbled something, but his eyes were open and after a quick glance towards Castiel, he picked up the jar of lotion and began rubbing it along his arms. 

Castiel cleared his throat. “Right, um, I’ll be right back.” He turned to the hallway, heading to the kitchen. 

Once in the kitchen, he started a pot on the stove, grabbing ingredients for the tea. As the tea brewed, Castiel made a list of Dean’s symptoms, as well as all the things he made for dinner, hoping maybe they’ll figure out what Dean was allergic to so it didn't happen again. He also made a note to call the town’s doctor, Dr. Donatello, in the morning to see what he thought. 

When the tea was ready, Castiel poured some into a smaller pot, and into a mug, and placed it on a tray to bring to Dean. 

Knocking slightly on the door before entering so as to not startle Dean, Castiel peaked in. He saw that Dean was still rubbing his arms, but they were shiny with lotion now. When Dean heard Castiel, he had looked up, and then quickly averted his gaze. He was embarrassed, Castiel realized.

“I made you this tea, Dean.” He started, setting down the tray on his dresser. He handed the mug to Dean, who sniffed it, but didn’t take a sip. 

“It's a mixture of cinnamon, nettle, and ginger, in case your throat was itchy. It’ll help soothe everything else as well.”

Dean nodded, murmuring a ‘thanks’, before blowing on the tea. He took a sip, but remained quiet. 

“Did the lotion help?” Castiel asked softly. 

Dean nodded. “It did, thank you.” 

Castiel hummed, and then pulled out the list he had made. “I've made a list of everything I used to make supper, and I’ll call the local doctor tomorrow morning, see what could have caused this but if you could let me know of all of this, which you've never had before, that would make the list smaller.” He handed Dean the paper, and Dean looked over it for a moment.

“I–I never had pineapple before…”

Castiel had gotten some pineapple juice to include in salad dressings. It was a new discovery he enjoyed when he wanted some sweet and sour. 

“But that's the only thing…” Dean said, handing him back the paper. 

“People are allergic to pineapple. I’ll pass that on to the doctor, see if that allergy can cause your symptoms. Are you breathing okay now?” 

Dean’s face reddened. “Yes, I can. I’m sorry I woke you.” His voice was quiet, and Castiel’s heart ached at how upset Dean seemed. 

“Dean, you don't have to apologize. I’m glad you woke me.” He paused. He wanted to ask Dean if there was something else wrong, but they technically just met less than 24 hours ago, and he didn't want to make Dean more uncomfortable. 

But before Castiel could verbalize his worry, Dean stood up, hugging the tea close to him. 

“I think I’ll go back to bed now, um, thank you again, Mr. Novak.” He picked up the tray with the teapot, and made his way back to his room.

“Of course, good night Dean.” Castiel whispered.

* * *

Dean however did not go back to sleep, instead lying awake in bed till dawn. 

His itchy skin was finally feeling better, but mentally, he wasn't. Of course, his first night here had to go wrong, and he had to wake up Castiel…and the man practically slept naked! Dean blushed furiously as the memory of Castiel in nothing but his underwear filled his mind. The man was fit, his chest toned and sculpt–no! Dean tried to shake the thought of Castiel’s bare chest out of his mind. 

But then he felt arousal pool in his belly, his dick hardening underneath his pajamas. Groaning, he palmed himself, trying to focus on something else, but the arousal didn't falter. 

————————

At some point Dean must've fallen asleep because when he startled awake, the sun was shining brightly into his room. Memories of the night before came rushing back; Castiel’s naked chest, Dean imagining running his hands along his chest… Dean grimaced. The fact that he had pleasured himself to thoughts of Castiel…the man was technically his boss now! He felt a rush of shame, and buried his face in his hands, trying to catch his breath. 

He remembered the whiskey after he cleaned himself last night, but he didn't open it; he barely knew Castiel but already he didn't want to disappoint him. 

After a couple of minutes, when his breathing felt semi-normal, Dean finally mustered up the courage to leave his room. 

Castiel didn’t specify what time Dean should start his barn chores, but Dean knew he should get out there soon. After looking over his arms and chest, noticing the hives had all disappeared, he got dressed, pulling on his threadbare cotton pants, and a cotton t-shirt. 

Peaking through the crack of his door, he saw that Casatiel’s door was shut and after straining to hear if there was any noise coming from the kitchen, he realized Castiel must still be in bed. 

Quietly, Dean carried the teapot and mug and walked to the kitchen. He gently washed the dishes, drying them once finished and placed them back so Castiel wouldn't have to deal with it.  

Once he got that sorted out, he prepared some oatmeal and got the coffee brewing. He felt lethargic, his mind foggy and he had an inkling it wasn't due to the lack of sleep. He normally drank every night, a bad habit he knew, but lately it had been pretty awful; most mornings he’d wake up still drunk, like the morning Castiel hired him. Today was the first in a while, at least this past month, where he hadn't had a drink in more than 24 hours. 

Dean sat down at the table, breakfast in front of him, and ate quietly, hoping he’d feel better so he could prove to Castiel he could be useful and not a burden. 

Castiel woke up to the smell of coffee. Glancing at the clock, he realized he had slept through his alarm, which was not typical of him. Given that he now had help on his farm, Castiel didn't worry about getting a later start of the day. Getting dressed, he pulled out the town’s phone book and picked up his landline, calling the doctor. 

After a brief description of Dean’s symptoms, the doctor agreed Dean definitely had a pineapple allergy. Thanking the doctor, Castiel hung up and made his way to the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel said, walking straight towards the coffee pot. “Are you feeling better?” He tried to keep the worry in his voice tame, not wanting to make Dean feel like he was suffocating him. Castiel focused on pouring a cup of coffee, but he noticed Dean had his head in his hands. If Dean was usually a heavy drinker, then he hadn't had a drink in over a day, which meant he was probably experiencing some withdrawal symptoms. Setting the kettle onto the stove, Castiel got some herbs out and started prepping some tea for Dean. 

“Good Morning, Mr Novak. Yes, thank you.” Dean had greeted him, his head still in his hands. 

Castiel moved quietly around Dean, and then he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and the sound of a cup hitting the table. 

“Try some of this, it should help with the headache.” Castiel said softly. God dammit, even when his voice was soft and gentle it made Dean feel a rush of arousal. 

Peeking behind his hand, he saw a cup of steaming liquid. 

“What's this?” Dean mumbled, sniffing the unknown drink.

“Peppermint tea.” Castiel said. “It can help soothe headaches, ease nausea, and other ailments. And please, Dean, call me Castiel.” 

“How very ‘witchy’ of you.” Dean said, smirking.  

Castiel shot Dean a perplexed look.

“My brother,” Dean started. He and his wife, Eileen, have a pharmacy one town over, about a day's trip from here. He’s all about this kind of thing.”

“I didn't know you had a brother.” 

Dean looked up at Castiel, beaming. “He’s special…he…he got out of this town, got educated, found a wife.”

“You sound really proud of him.” Castiel observed, his expression soft. 

Dean felt his cheeks blush and he looked away, nodding softly. 

“I called the doctor by the way,” Cas said, sipping his coffee. “He agrees it was the pineapple, so I’ll make sure to get rid of it.” 

“You don't have to…get rid of it.” Dean started. 

“I don't want you to get sick again, Dean.” Cas said, his expression pained. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Dean let out a breath, and then nodded.

“I think I'm going to start on those chores in the barn now.” Dean said, getting up. 

“You sure? I mean, you could take it easy today…I know last night was–” Castiel said, surprised but very quickly discerning that he shouldn't be surprised. He already understood Dean was going to be stubborn and work regardless of any health issues. 

“I’m fine,” Dean said, keeping his tone neutral. His headache hadn’t waned, but he didn't want Castiel to treat him like he was fragile just because he had an allergic reaction, or that he was a drunk. 

Downing the rest of the tea, Dean cleaned up his dishes and quickly made his way to the barn, leaving Castiel at the table, unaware that Castiel had grown more worried. 

————————-

The barn chores were fairly easy for Dean; he had kept Baby well taken care of at his dad’s cabin, and her stable was always cleaned twice a day. 

A little over an hour had passed, and Dean had finished cleaning the barn and both horses’ stables, refilling their food troughs and swept up their droppings. In his coat pocket he had a small notebook and pencil and he made notes of things in the barn he'd like to repair; like the door’s hinges, and some of the broken wood. 

He then made note of everything in the supply closet, making sure he had everything he'd need and anything that would need to be restocked. The horses were not in need of a bath just yet, and their shoes were good for now, but soon they'd need to be replaced so Dean made note of that and got acquainted with where everything was located. 

It was almost noon when Dean realized he had been stalling, trying to find things to do in the barn. 

He was hiding from Castiel. 

He berated himself for being stupid; Castiel himself had said he could go anywhere as he pleased, and didn't need permission or anything. Huffing, he looked over the chores list again, though knowing he had already checked it five times, knowing he had already completed it for the day. 

Taking a deep breath, Dean headed back towards the house, hoping he'd see something along the way he could do. 

Luckily, before he made it to the cabin, he noticed Castiel had not been in the garden yet and Dean could tell some vegetables were ready to be harvested. Grabbing some gloves hanging on the garden fence and one of the empty crates, Dean got to work.  

* * *

Dean finished harvesting the vegetables a lot quicker than he anticipated, and sooner than he would've liked, the wooden crate was now full. Looking around, Dean saw Castiel was on his porch, carrying a crate full of jars. 

Trying to keep his tone neutral and strong, Dean made his way to Castiel. 

“Um, hey, Mr. Novak–” 

Castiel immediately let out huff, a look of annoyance on his face. Dean grimaced. Great, he’s fucked up already and he was gonna get the boot. 

But before Dean could begin an apology, Castiel looked at him sharply, pulling off his gloves. 

“ Please , Dean, call me ‘Castiel’ , otherwise I’m gonna start calling you ‘Mr. Winchester’.” 

Dean gaped at him. Castiel’s tone was sharp, but there was a teasing undertone to it that made Dean’s face flush. 

As Dean processed what Castiel said, his eyes widened; that was not something he thought Castiel would be annoyed about. It had been instilled in him since he was a child to show respect to “his elders”, and as he got older, anyone that would offer him work, though that list had gotten shorter and shorter as rumors spread, he would try his darndest to show respect, even if it didn't help with keeping the job. 

“Um but sir–” 

Castiel shot him a stern look, which unfortunately made Dean’s stomach flutter. 

“Ugh fine, Cas tiel, ” Dean said, his voice wavering slightly. “Where would you like me to put these vegetables?”

Castiel beamed at him, which made Dean feel the weird flutter increase in his stomach. 

“You could put them in the kitchen for now, thank you, Dean.” His expression was a mix of smugness and something else…something lighthearted that made Dean relax a bit. He hadn't been sure how to act around Castiel, not wanting to ruin this opportunity, but clearly Castiel wanted him to relax. It just was going to take a bit for Dean to get used to that idea. 

Dean placed the vegetables in the kitchen and hurried back to the barn before Castiel could see him flustered. Castiel . He wanted Dean to call him by his first name, and that made Dean’s stomach flutter. Dean hoped keeping a professional distance between him and Castiel would diffuse his attraction, but this man was clearly uncomfortable with being called ‘Mr. Novak’. Dean was just going to have to find a different way to keep his attraction at bay. 

Chapter Text

“They told me all of my cages were mental, 

So I got wasted, like all my potential.” 

Dean had fucked up. 

He was in the barn, cradling his left wrist, pain shooting up towards his shoulder as he tried and failed to flex his fingers. He was back in the barn, checking on the horses, and he had gotten distracted; he had slammed his wrist into the door when shutting one of the supply closets. 

Now his wrist was swelling up, a bruise already forming. The pain was sharp, making him forget that his headache from earlier had not yet dissipated. He didn't think it was broken, at least no bones were poking through, but he could barely move it without sending pain up his arm. 

Cursing himself, he tried to muster through the rest of his chores. He already fucked up with having an allergic reaction the first night, if Castiel saw that he had broken his wrist only on the second day, then that was really going to prove just how useless he was. 

It took him longer to finish, the sun beginning to set by the time he put his tools back into the supply closet. He was hungry, having skipped lunch, and hoped Castiel was too busy with his own chores to be in the house. 

Alas, when he entered the mudroom, he heard Castiel puttering around in the kitchen. He carefully pulled off his boots, keeping his injured wrist at his side. 

When he entered the kitchen, Castiel looked over his shoulder. 

“Ah, good evening, Dean.” Castiel said, “I’m making a sandwich, did you want me to make you  one too?”

“I could make my own, it's alright.” 

Castiel didn't argue. As much as he wanted to help out Dean, he started to get the idea that Dean liked to have some autonomy. “You can make anything you want, Dean.” 

Dean carefully worked around Castiel, gathering some bread and meat from the fridge. He kept his back to Castiel, keeping his hurt wrist in front of him as he one handedly prepared a sandwich. 

Castiel observed Dean as he made his sandwich. Something was wrong; Dean’s shoulders were hunched over, and his brow had a faint shine of sweat. 

Why is he so goddamn stubborn? Castiel thought. He was going to just ignore whatever was bothering Dean, and make the man actually ask for help, but then he heard Dean sharply inhale. 

Sighing, Castiel went over to Dean, pretending he needed something out of the cupboard above Dean’s head. Trying to act nonchalantly, Castiel got out a cup, keeping his expression neutral as he eyed Dean. Dean’s eyes were fixed on his sandwich, still not finished, and his left wrist was resting on the countertop while his right hand gripped a knife. 

Castiel moved away, pretending he didn't notice that something was wrong with Dean’s hand. He gathered his dinner and after placing it on the table, he went to grab the first aid kit from the supply closet in the kitchen. Dean was still at the counter, his shoulders hunched. 

“Dean?” Castiel tried to keep his voice impartial.  

Dean shifted, but didn’t turn around. Castiel walked up to the counter and stood next to Dean, facing him, still holding the first aid kit. When Dean’s eyes saw what he was holding, his shoulders slumped, his cheeks flushing red. 

“I’m fine…Castiel.” He said, his tone sharp.

Castiel glared at him; if Dean was going to be stubborn, then Castiel can as well. The two men glared at each other, neither relenting. 

After a moment, Dean let out an annoyed sigh, breaking the silence. 

“It's just a sprain–” He started, but was promptly interrupted by Castiel huffing in annoyance, and manhandled Dean towards one of the chairs around the table. He pulled up his own chair towards Dean, and gently lifted Dean’s wrist. Dean let out a wince when Castiel prodded around the bone, and when Castiel stretched out his fingers, Dean grimaced, biting his lip. 

“It’s not broken,” Castiel stated. “But it is very badly sprained. I’m going to wrap it tightly, so you can't use it, and we’ll give it at least a day and see how it is on Sunday.” 

“But–my chores–”

“Dean, I could manage your chores.” Castiel shot him a pointed look. “I have been managing my farm on my own before, you know.” he arched a brow, shooting a look at Dean before pulling out some bandages from the first aid kit.  

Dean still looked worried, chewing on his lip. 

“Dean, I’m not mad.” Castiel insisted as he began wrapping Dean’s wrist. 

Dean didn't answer, but he seemed to relax a tiny bit. 

When Castiel pulled the wrapping tightly, Dean let out a gasp.

“Ow, sonofabitch, Cas!” He grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as pain shot through his arm. Castiel finished tying the wrap, and then quickly got up to head back into the kitchen.

“Stay.” He simply said to Dean, who was a moment away from getting up as well. Scoffing, Dean stayed, but eyed Castiel curiously from where he sat. 

After a moment, Castiel came back with Dean’s sandwich, and an ice pack.

“Keep this on your wrist till the ice pack isn't cold anymore, it’ll help with the swelling, and eat, I’m sure you're still hungry.” 

Dean looked at the sandwich, and placing his injured wrist on the table, with the ice pack resting underneath, he looked up at Castiel.

“Thanks, Cas.” He whispered. 

Castiel blinked at him, a blush forming on his cheeks. 

“Of course.” 

The two men sat there in comfortable silence. When Dean finished eating, Castiel reached over and took his plate, getting another murmured thanks from the man, which made Castiel’s stomach flutter.

“How’s your head?” Castiel asked as he washed Dean’s plate.

“Fine.” Dean said, but when he looked up at Cas, the farmer was glaring at him. Rolling his eyes, Dean let out a small grunt. 

“It…it hasn't gone away.” 

“Has the pain increased?” 

Dean shook his head. Cas nodded, and when he finished cleaning up, he pulled out a small bottle from a cabinet over the counter, and poured some water into a glass. He handed Dean the pill bottle and water. 

“Take two now, and if the headache hasn't lessened in two hours, take two more.” Cas’s voice stern. 

Dean bit back a snarky response, taking the pill bottle. He looked up at Cas, who was staring intently at him. Scoffing, Dean shook out two pills and swallowed them with a swig of water. 

Castiel walked over to the living room, pulling a book off the shelf and getting settled in the couch. After a moment, he heard Dean shifting in his seat, the wooden chair creaking. 

“Um, Cas?” Dean called over to him, his voice hesitant. 

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel said. 

“Is there…is there anything I can do?” 

“No.” 

Dean stiffened, and Castiel grimaced. Clearly Dean needed to feel useful, needed to keep busy so he would feel wanted. 

“I mean,” Castiel thought for a moment, trying to come up with something Dean could help with. Looking over the couch towards Dean, he eyed the man. Dean was sitting stiffly at the table and though it was late, the sun already set behind the hills, it was too early to turn in for the night. 

“There isn't really anything else left to do,” Castiel continued. “And I don't want you to push yourself tomorrow,” he raised a hand, cutting off Dean’s incoming remark. 

“But, Cas, please.” Dean groaned, walking over to sit in the chair across from the couch. “I promise I’ll be careful, I just need…need to feel useful, Cas.” He hung his head, but Castiel didn’t respond and when Dean looked up slightly, he saw that Cas was staring at him, his cheeks pink. 

“Something the matter?” Dean asked, his brows furrowing. 

“No–” Castiel started, his lips twitching up into a small smile. “You just…you called me ‘Cas’ again.”

Dean’s expression turned pained. “I’m sorry-”

“No,” Castiel said hurriedly. “I–I liked it.” He smiled up at Dean. “I've never gotten a nickname before…I like it.” 

Dean stared at him for a moment, and then a soft smile formed on his face. Licking his lips, his eyes shined brightly as he smiled at Cas.

“You can relax for the rest of the night, Dean.” Cas said. “Feel free to take any book,” he nodded towards the bookcases. “Or you could go to town, or you know whatever. The night is yours.” He smiled softly towards Dean, who pouted for a second, before getting out of his and headed towards the bookshelves. 

It was much later that night, Dean was sitting out on the porch, reading one of the books from Cas’s shelves. He looked up when he saw Cas walking towards him, carrying a tray. He sat the tray down on the table in front of the sofa, and sat on the chair across from Dean. 

“Did you want to the couch–” Dean started to sit up, but then Cas shook his head, waving a hand. “No, Dean, you sit, I like where I'm sitting…” He paused, pulling out a piece of thin paper from an envelope. 

Curious, Dean looked at the spread on the tray. His eyebrows raised when he realized what the green and brown leaves were and what the grinder was for. 

“Is that…weed?” Dean couldn't help but smirk. 

Cas smirked right back at him. “Yes it is.” he said, as he sprinkled some of the herbs into the bowl. “I could make you a joint? I only do this on Saturdays, to finish the week off relaxed, and since tomorrow is Sunday, there's not much to do tomorrow.” 

Dean watched as Cas's fingers began spreading some of the ground up herbs onto the paper. When Cas's tongue peeked out from between his lips to lick the edge of the paper before he finished rolling it completely, Dean felt that flutter again in his stomach and he looked away. 

“Do you want one?” Cas asked again, holding the joint towards Dean. 

“Ummm…” Dean thought, looking at the joint which made Cas have a realization. 

“You've never smoked before, have you?” Cas asked, tilting his head. 

Dean looked away, a flush of embarrassment on his face. Shaking his head, he muttered. “No.”

“Oh that's okay, Dean…” Cas assured him. “Did you want to try it? It could help soothe any pain from your wrist…and it could help with your headache.”

Dean looked at Cas, and felt a sudden wave of trust towards the man. He nodded, delighted to see how Cas’s face brightened. 

“We can share this one, in case it's not your thing.” Cas grabbed a match and with a flick against the table, he lit the joint that was now between his lips. Breathing in, Cas let the drug fill his lungs before blowing out over his shoulder, away from Dean. He handed the joint to Dean, who looked at it curiously before bringing it to his lips.  Dean copied what Cas had done, breathing in and letting it settle in his lungs before blowing out away from Cas. The drug tasted earthy, with a soft sweetness to it, not bad at all, which surprised Dean. He placed the joint back between his lips, feeling Cas’s eyes on him. He saw Cas lick his lips as Dean took in another drag. 

“Good boy.” Cas whispered as Dean blew out the smoke over his shoulder. Dean’s eyes widened, his face reddening and then Cas’s eyes widened, realizing what he just said aloud. 

“I’m sorry–” Cas stuttered, taking the joint from Dean’s outstretched hand. 

Dean let out a breathy giggle. “‘S okay..” he licked his lips, watching Cas place the joint between his lips, taking another drag. Cas looked away, his face reddening. The two men sat quietly, passing the joint back and forth. 

The effects of the weed had begun to take effect, and for the first time in a while, Dean felt a sense of calm wash over him. A trust was starting to blossom between him and Castiel… Cas …even thinking of the nickname he just blurted out felt familiar on his tongue, and it sent butterflies to his stomach. It was probably the drug clouding his mind that made him accept that the flutters in his stomach were going to be a regular occurance. Normally feelings like this made Dean panic, made him feel weak; his father’s voice hammering in his head about love being for the weak…and ever since his father had died four years ago, Dean felt like his life was at a standstill, and no matter how hard he worked to prove he wasn't like his father, something always happened that would prove otherwise…

But now, here he was, enjoying the night with someone who was giving him another chance, and deep down Dean hoped it would last.  

While Dean was lost in thought, Cas was watching him, his own mind at peace as he observed the man before him. Dean was not what he had expected, and he cursed himself for believing the mindless gossip the townsfolk had spread. Dean was a hard worker, he clearly needed to feel useful, almost to the point of self destruction, if hiding his hurt wrist was any proof he would work through discomfort. But he was also intelligent, caring, and Cas was beginning to feel an immense amount of care for the man.  

—————————

Sunday morning came, and Cas had gone to church service. Dean’s wrist was still sore, but he was already starting to feel restless. He hated sitting around as Cas did his regular chores, as well as Dean’s, and Dean hated how useless he felt. 

That first night, when they smoked some weed together, after Cas had turned in for the night, Dean went snooping. He was bored okay! He looked at the diverse array of books Cas had on his shelves, picking out a few more he was curious about. 

He then opened a closet, seeing some old board games, and an old paint set. It had a few brushes, and a twelve-color palette. Bored out of his mind, and probably still feeling the effects of the weed, Dean took the paint palette and brushes, headed to the kitchen and got a cup of water and then he headed to his room. 

He hadn’t painted since his mom died when he was eleven; his father had thrown away his paint set as Dean shouldn’t be wasting time when there was money to be made. But he still remembered how it calmed him, and how much enjoyed adding little pops of colors on random things. When his mother was alive, he’d paint little flowers along her bed frame, and when he filled it, she encouraged him to paint on his own bed frame. But he never got to finish, as his mother had died and his father thought painting flowers was not something to waste time on, not when there were chores to be done and money to be made. 

The weed definitely was hindering Dean’s mind, as he would normally ask Cas if this was okay, but somewhere deep down he felt sure that Cas wouldn't mind. So Dean began painting his bed frame, doing flowers first up the legs, and then adding leaves and finally a few little bees to fill in the empty space. 

When he’d woken up, it was to the sound of the front door closing. Getting out of bed, Dean saw the paint he had left on the desk. The flowers he painted on the bed frame were dry, and they made Dean feel a sense of calm. 

Since Cas was heading to church and wouldn't be back for at least another hour, Dean grabbed the paint and found some blank papers in the desk’s drawer. He started painting different designs, playing with color combinations and he got sucked into it, not hearing Cas get home until there was a knock on his door. 

“Good morning, Dean.” Cas said. 

Dean turned around, keeping his body angled to hide what he was painting but Cas didn't seem to notice. 

“Good morning, Cas.” Dean replied. 

“I’m going to make some breakfast, did you want some?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, sure…um I’ll come help in a second.” Dean said, hunching slightly over the paintings. 

Cas hummed in reply, shutting Dean’s door gently. 

Dean took a breath, and after putting the paintings in the drawer, and headed to the kitchen. 

That morning, when Cas had greeted Dean, the first thing he noticed were the flowers. They had been intricately painted along the legs of Dean’s bed frame. Cas was surprised to say the least; something about Dean being a painter warmed his heart, and made him realize just how sweet Dean was. 

Not wanting to put Dean on the spot at the moment, Cas didn't mention the flowers, but hoped Dean would want to paint on other things throughout the house. 

————————

“What's your favorite color, Dean?

“Mmm, guess.”

Cas narrowed his eyes, but there was a glint in them and his lips quirked up as he eyed Dean. 

The two were sitting out on the porch, the sun setting behind the hills, leaving the sky in shades of orange and pink. They were drinking cups of tea Cas had made for them, enjoying each other’s presence and Cas was growing more and more curious about the man before him. 

“Green?” He guessed. 

Dean smirked, shaking his head. “Nope.” 

“Blue?” 

Dean smiled but shook his head. “What, like your baby blues?” His face paled and he snapped his mouth shut but Cas was looking at him, smiling wide. 

Dean looked away, a shy smile forming on his face. 

Cas thought for a moment, observing Dean.

“Pink?”

Dean’s eyes shot up to Cas’s, his face blushing. 

“What–what makes you think that?” He whispered, furrowing his brows.

“I don't know…” Cas pondered. “It suits you.” He realized as he watched Dean blush at that comment. 

“It was…it was my mom’s favorite…” Dean murmured. “The whole house, she’d have pink flowers, different shades…but when she died my dad got rid of it all…” Dean gulped, his lip trembling. “I don't know why it's my favorite…

“It reminds you of her.” Cas stated, his expression soft. 

Dean let out a small laugh, looking away. “What about you–” He cleared his throat. “What's your favorite color?” 

“Mmmmm, guess.” Cas said, mischievously. 

Dean huffed, rolling his eyes. “Mmmm…” He thought, glancing at Cas.

“Yellow?”

This time, Cas startled, his eyes widening. “How’d you–”

Dean let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling. “Dude, come on…” He gestured to Cas, and then to the farm. “I mean, bees, honey…I don't know, yellow is warm and comforting…” He snapped his mouth shut, looking down at the ground as Cas’s gaze on him intensified.

When Dean looked up at Cas, Cas was smiling wide, his eyes bright.

“Thank you, Dean. No one’s ever…said that about me before.” 

Dean let out a breath, trying to calm his erratic heart. Returning Cas’s smile, he relaxed his shoulders, leaning back into his chair. 

“Growing up,” Cas started. “My house was…very gray.” Cas grimaced, taking a sip of his tea. “I like having color around…like your flowers.” 

Dean startled, looking at Cas. 

“If you wanted to paint anything in the house…the walls, anything, feel free to Dean.” Cas smiled at him, and Dean swore his heart was going to leap out of his chest. 

Swallowing, he nodded. 

The two remained on the porch until the sun disappeared and the stars appeared. 

—————————-

Monday came and by that point, even painting wasn't enough to keep Dean from feeling restless. He followed Cas around instead, helping him as best he could with one hand.

Dean helped Cas check on the hives, collecting some honey, which Cas would use to make medicinal syrups. 

He held the ladder steady as Cas cleaned out the gutters along his roof. That was hard, considering how close Cas’s backside was to Dean’s face, but at least he was feeling somewhat useful even as he felt his face redden everytime he looked up. 

He helped harvest some of the veggies in the garden; collecting some arugula, potatoes, onions and asparagus for dinner later. 

The dynamic between them was changing into something deeper, more precious and Dean was starting to hope that maybe the spark between them could blossom into something more…and that terrified him. 

But he never drank. The whiskey bottle in his drawer, forgotten. 

After dinner that night, Cas had made his way to the living room, a book in hand while Dean was looking over his shelves.

“You can borrow any book, Dean.” He reminded Dean as he sat down.  

Dean looked over at him, and he grinned softly. “Thanks.” He murmured, looking back over the shelves. 

“What do you like to read?” Cas asked, curiously. 

Dean shuffled on his feet, fiddling with his sleeve. 

“Comics…” he muttered, not looking at Cas. 

Cas looked up at Dean, smiling softly. “You know the bookstore on Main Street? Bradbury & Baum Books?”

Dean nodded, looking solemn. “Yeah, I–I haven't been there though…”

“You can, next time we go to town. They have a huge comic book section.”  

Dean looked uncomfortable. “All my wages are going towards my dad’s debt…”

Cas looked at Dean, confused. “Wait, so the whole time…” Cas furrowed his brows. “Any money you've earned, you don't keep any for yourself?”

Dean shook his head “There's…bills to pay…you know…’necessities’.” 

“Yeah, but, Dean. You deserve to have nice things.”  

Dean shifted, but remained silent. 

Cas sighed, but when Dean didn't continue, he turned back to his book. 

“I used to…” Dean started after a moment. Cas looked back up, patiently waiting for Dean to continue. “I had a really big collection of comics…and regular books too…”

“What other books did you have?” 

“Vonnegut, Christie…and westerns and mysteries.” He paused, glancing over at Cas. “But we had to sell a lot of our things…to make ends meet after my mom died…you know our house used to be surrounded by flowers.” Dean’s face brightened at the memory. “She and my dad were florists.” Dean scoffed, noticing Cas's surprised expression. “Yeah, I know, this town…they don't talk about what my dad was like before…before, he was a good guy…but…” He trailed off, his face paling. 

“Sorry I'm rambling…”

Cas shook his head, sitting up. “No, no, Dean, I don't mind…I mean, I like learning more about you…you can ask me anything if you want…to make it fair?”

Dean blushed, looking away. 

“What?” Cas laughed, leaning back on his couch. “You don't wanna know anything about me?” He joked, his eyes glinting. 

Dean laughed. “I wanna know everything about you.” He whispered, his smile faltering slightly when he realized once again, he had spoken before thinking. 

Cas blushed, keeping his gaze on Dean. 

“Have you always wanted to be a farmer?” 

Cas blinked, touched by how curious Dean sounded. 

“Yes, I think so…” Cas said, pondering. “Growing up, my father was chaotic…. My brothers…were pretty chaotic too, and so my environment just wasn't...” He trailed off, 

“You have brothers?” Dean asked, curiously.

Cas let out a laugh. “Four; Michael and Lucifer, they…got into a lot of trouble together, and there is Rapahel, who is much like our father, and then Gabriel. I’m the youngest.” 

“Do you–do you still talk to them?” 

Cas shrugged. “Gabriel mostly. He’s nothing like me, but he was more considerate I guess…than the rest. We grew up in the city, it was loud, and too…too many people.” Cas said, sheepishly. My Aunt Amara had a farm, we’d visit every summer, and as I grew older, I realized I liked the routine that came with farm work and housework; it's not something my father, or my other brothers really understood, or cared for…but I do. I like the quiet…I'm pretty introverted as you probably have noticed...” He paused, noticing Dean had winced before shifting in his seat. “I enjoy your company, Dean,” Cas assured Dean. “And I have a feeling you like the quiet too?”

Dean looked up, surprised at Cas’s observation. Yes, he did like the quiet….he didn’t like being stared at or when whispers followed him as he’d walk through town. But he also liked being around people, sometimes anyway…but his anxiety made it almost impossible for him to relax; his mind spiraling as he worried that no one enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed theirs…that’s why he turned to drinking. Alcohol numbed the constant voice in his head and allowed him to not care, at least in the moment, what people thought of him. 

“Um I do…but I like talking to people too….I just get shy…” He shifted on his feet; he never said that aloud before. “That’s why I drank…it helped me socialize. And relax or whatever.” Dean felt his cheeks warm as Cas looked at him, so he turned around, looking back at the books. 

“What about now?” Cas asked, his tone hesitant. “Do you feel like drinking?”

Dean looked over, and shook his head, smiling softly. 

Cas smiled back before returning to his book. Shortly after, Dean picked a book and sat on the other side of the couch, a smile still on his face.

Chapter Text

“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me”

By Tuesday, Dean’s wrist was fully recovered and he immediately jumped back into work. 

Not only did he continue taking care of the barn, he also started doing repairs in the barn itself, and on the fence that surrounded Cas’s property.

Cas wanted him to take it easy, but he also made Dean knew just how much he appreciated Dean’s work ethic and drive. When he had seen Dean carrying some wood to load onto the small wagon attached to Baby, Cas had asked him what he was up to and when he had explained how he noticed parts of the fence was decayed and falling apart, Cas had let slip the ‘good boy’ praise again.

Dean’s face had reddened when the praise had slipped from Cas’s lips and to Cas's bemusement, it seemed Dean had reacted positively to it. It appeared Dean had more confidence whenever he was complimented. Cas thought that Dean needed to be reminded that he wasnt going to ‘fuck everything up like his dad’ and that he was appreciated. 

As Dean continued to load the wagon, Cas tried to focus on his own chore; pulling out weeds in his garden. Once Dean was out of sight, Cas relaxed, his brain fuzzy with arousal. He really needed to get this attraction mellowed out…but deep down, Cas didn't want to. He wanted Dean; the past two days with Dean injured, he was around much more than Cas had anticipated. Clearly agitated with lack of anything to do, Dean paced around, following Cas wherever he went. Cas never minded the company, but the close proximity did nothing but fuel his attraction and Cas spent his nights in dreams of Dean’s touch. 

To say Cas was sexually frustrated would be an understatement. 

——————————-

Dean was by the fence, repairing a part that decayed away. He had brought the paint palette with him, tucked in his cotton pants. Once he had finished the fence, he pulled it out, and began painting flowers along the wood. He fell into a peaceful routine; painting as he repaired the fence, not hearing Cas approach him until the man spoke. 

“They’re very beautiful, Dean.” 

Dean looked over his shoulder, startled, and he eyed Cas. Cas had walked up to him casually, and was carrying two cups of coffee.

“What is?” Dean asked, taking the cup from Cas.

“The flowers.”

Dean jerked, his eyes looking at Cas. 

“Er, thank you,” He cleared his throat, looking away. “I should've asked, I'm sorry–”

“Dean,” Cas sighed, walking closer to the fence. He looked at Dean pointedly, indicating he wanted Dean to look at him. After a moment, Dean finally looked up from staring at his coffee. 

“I love how you've added some beauty around here, Dean. Take the compliment.”

Dean blushed, and looked away, nodding. 

——————————————

“Did you want to go to town with me, Dean?” Cas asked over breakfast. It was Wednesday morning, he only went to town every couple of days, depending on his supply and his mood, and he hoped Dean would come with him; he hadn't gone since hiring Dean and now he had quite a bit to sell. 

Dean looked at Cas, unsure. “Did you need me too?”

Cas looked at Dean, perplexed. “No, I don't need you to, but I’d like it if you did. I like your company.” 

That made Dean blushed and he nodded, going back to his breakfast. 

After breakfast, Cas had begun packing his wagon full of goods that were ready to sell in town. Dean brought over Hannah, securing her in front of the wagon. Once the wagon was ready, the two men headed down the hill into town. 

Once in town, Cas turned to Dean, steering the wagon to the side. 

“It’ll take me a bit to go to all the businesses I work with, if you want to go out for a bit, you know…do whatever.” 

Dean smiled and hopped off the wagon. Before he could walk off though, Cas tossed Dean a small pouch.

“Part of your wages,” he said, observing Dean's confused expression. “The rest has been sent to the bank, to go towards your father’s debt. I want you to buy something you don’t ‘need’.” Cas said, his lips twitching up into a soft smile..

Dean’s face reddened, and he muttered a thanks, pocketing the pouch. 

Dean’s first stop was a market he used to frequent quite a bit. People sold random bits and bobs; old things, antiques, etc and Dean liked rummaging through the bins. 

When Cas told him to get something for himself, he thought of this market. He only bought things he could use in some way around the house; repair anything that needed fixing, or make things for his brother. 

But recently he got an idea into his head he wanted to make something for Cas, something that showed his appreciation. The idea was new to Dean, he had only ever gotten things for his brother, something that would make him smile, even for just a moment. And now he wanted to do the same for Cas. 

Rummaging through the bins, Dean found some old metal clips, used to wrap leather through to make suspenders. He found some old leather strips down the aisle, and a half used bottle of blue leather paint. Everything he found cost little and he still had some change left over. He went over to the used book pile. He couldn't afford a new one from the bookstore, but he browsed the used ones, and found an old favorite that he had just enough for. 

Satisfied with what he found, Dean made his way back towards where Cas had dropped him off. When he found Cas, his wagon was parked to the side, Hannah drinking from one of the wells set up along the main road meant for horses. 

Before Dean could cross the road towards Cas, a man stepped in front of him, his face red with anger. 

“Fucking Winchester,” the man spat out.

“Fuck.” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. “Ketch.” 

Ketch glared at Dean, stepping closer. 

“Here to cause trouble, Winchester?” The man’s tone was sharp, but his fancy accent added nothing to warrant Dean to take the man seriously. He had run into Ketch a handful of times; the man was more words than fists. 

“Fuck off,” Dean said, trying to brush past Ketch. 

The man grabbed Dean's shoulder trying to keep him in place, and Dean felt a rush of anger. Spinning sharply around he pushed Ketch away from him causing the man to trip over the crib, tumbling over. 

Shouts came from the shops around Dean, and a few men came out and started yelling at him. 

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

“Get the hell outta here!”  

“Causing nothing but trouble.” One of the onlookers muttered, glaring at Dean. 

Dean hunched his shoulders, and tried to make his way out of the crowd that was forming. 

When he looked back towards the street, he saw Cas was walking swiftly towards him. 

“Dean!” Cas shouted, pushing some people out of his way. Grabbing Dean by the arm, he led him away and straight back towards his wagon. 

The crowd had dispersed as quickly as it had formed, but Dean could still feel the heat of their glares on him as he climbed into the wagon. 

“You okay?” Cas asked, his voice wavering with worry. 

“I'm fine.” Dean snapped, his shoulders stiff. He had his arms tightly around himself, cradling a bag. He wasn't looking at Cas, his face was flushed red. Cas noticed that Dean’s eyes were wet, and his heart ached at the sight. 

Cas sighed, his worry not at all gone. But he didn't want Dean to close up even more so he didn't speak as they headed back home. 

Cas had done a bit of shopping himself after selling his supply and what he found for Dean hoped would make the man feel a little better. Once they pulled up to his house, Cas untied Hannah and led her back to her stable while Dean got out and stalked straight into the cabin. 

Taking a breath, Cas gathered his purchases and followed Dean. 

“Dean,” Cas called out after shedding his coat and boots. He heard movement come from Dean’s room, so Cas carried the bag he bought and knocked gently on the door.

“Dean?” 

Dean was sitting on his bed, holding a book in his lap. One glance at Cas, Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I said I’m fine, Cas.” Dean’s tone didn't have the same sharpness as it did earlier, but his expression was hard. 

“Okay.” Cas said, not wanting to pester too much. “I just…I just bought you something.” He said, handing Dean the package. 

Dean looked at it confused, and sat up slightly as he opened the package. In the package were two new pairs of pants; one in a charcoal shade, the other in an olive green. Both were cotton, soft to the touch, and lacking patches and tears. 

Dean’s throat constricted and he glared up at Cas, who took a step, startled by Dean’s reaction. 

“I don't need your charity, Cas.” Dean snapped, trying to hand back the pants. 

“Dean,” Cas huffed, refusing to take the pants back, keeping his arms crossed. “You deserve to have nice things.” 

Dean stared at him intently, and when Cas refused to take back the pants, Dean snapped. 

He threw the pants aside and stalked past Cas, out of the room. 

“Dean!” Cas gasped, trying to catch up. Dean was fast though and he was out the door before Cas could grab his boots. By the time Cas made it outside, Dean had climbed on top of Baby and was riding down the hill. 

Feeling defeated, Cas went back inside, deciding Dean needed some space. 

Chapter Text

“You learn my secrets, and you figure out why I’m guarded.

It was nighttime and Dean still hadn't come home. Cas was pacing, worried sick. He tried to reassure himself that Dean was fine, he was free to do whatever he wanted at night, his time did not belong to Cas. And yet, he felt like something was wrong. 

Cas berated himself for thinking Dean would appreciate the new clothes. But he also was stubborn and still hoped Dean would come around.

But now it was nearly midnight and Dean had still not come home. 

It wasn't until much later, around two in the morning, Cas, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, awoke to the sound of a car coming up the hill. Cars were rare around town, and those who had them were either people passing through, or the cops. 

Pulling on a coat, Cas walked swiftly to the porch, just as Sheriff Mills was walking up towards him, Dean trailing right behind her. In the distance, Cas could see Deputy Hanscum was on horseback, Baby tied alongside her. 

“Dean!” Cas exclaimed, relief rushing through him.

Dean was walking funny, his hands handcuffed in front of him. Once he stepped onto the porch, the light illuminated his face, and Cas saw with horror that one side of Dean’s face was bruised; he had cuts on his cheek and temple, his eye was bruised, and his lip was bleeding. But when Dean caught Cas's eye, the man let out a giggle which startled Cas. 

“Dean…are you…”

“He's drunk.” Jody confirmed, disappointment in her voice. 

Cas slumped, opening his door wider to let Dean in. Dean stumbled over the doorstop, and then shuffled to the couch. Jody followed and Dean lifted his hands so she could unlock the cuffs. He slumped onto the couch, giggling at something.  

“What did he do?” Cas asked as Jody walked back to the door. 

She looked at Dean, her face etched with worry, before looking back at Cas.

“This time?” She answered, “Nothing.” 

Cas furrowed his brows, confused.

“He got drunk…and some men started harassing him, so the bartender kicked Dean out.” Jody started explaining. “And Dean didn't react, which was not expected. He just..left, did not react at all, but he was drunk and he stumbled against someone, knocking them over and all hell broke loose. Some men threw glasses at him, that's how he got the cuts. Don’t worry,” she held up a hand, stopping Cas’s interruption. “They're all sitting in a cell right now. Dean’s not in trouble, the cuffs were just a precaution. I figured you were worried for him.” 

“I—I was..” Cas said, feeling sick. “I didn't think–” 

“I’m okay, Cas.” Dean mumbled from the couch. 

Cas turned away from Jody, looking at Dean.  

Jody cleared her throat, getting Cas’s attention. “Well, good night Mr. Novak, Dean.” 

“Right…thank you.” Cas said, walking Jody to the porch. He saw that Deputy Hanscum had led Baby back to the stables. Saying another thank you, he watched as the duo left and then Cas swiftly headed back inside, into the kitchen, fetching supplies. When he got back into the living room, Dean’s eyes were closed, an arm resting over his face.  

Cas sat on the coffee table, and gently nudged Dean. 

“Dean?” He said softly. When Dean cracked open his eyes, he grimaced. 

“I'm sorry, Cas.” Dean whispered, his lip trembling. He had lasted a week without any drink, and he failed.   

Oh, Dean,” Cas whispered, gently cradling Dean's face. He pulled out a jar of medicinal syrup and after making Dean take a spoonful, he started cleaning the cuts, his heart aching every time Dean winced.

He then moved to Dean’s hands, noticing the scraps along his knuckles and palms. He cleaned them and then wrapped them in bandages. 

Dean sat still as Cas took care of him, but when Cas was finished, he helped Dean sit up. Cas was holding Dean’s face in his hands, his eyes roaming across Dean’s features. Dean tried to look away, but looking into Cas’s blue eyes, he found that he couldn't. 

Cas sighed, his thumb stroking Dean’s cheek. “You're going to bed and I’ll watch over you.” He said bluntly.

Dean could do nothing but nod and with Cas helping him up, Dean shuffled towards his room. 

Cas methodically got Dean undressed, taking off his cotton pants, now with more tears in them. He removed his buttoned shirt, leaving Dean in just his briefs and undershirt. Pushing him down under the covers, he let Dean get settled and then pulled one of the dining room chairs into the corner of Dean's room.

“Go to sleep, Dean.” Cas said, his hand stroking Dean’s forehead. 

Dean nodded, his voice caught in his throat, and as he drifted off, the last thing he felt were soft lips against his temple. 

—---------------------

When Dean woke up the next morning, he was alone. Shifting in bed, he felt his body was stiff, and there was a muffled pain along his eye and temple. Sitting up, he saw there was a pile of folded clothes on the dresser across from his bed. The new clothes Cas had bought for him. 

Feeling a rush of shame from the way he reacted to the new clothes, Dean slumped in bed, feeling his throat constricting. He really didn't want to cry again.

After he had stormed out, he had felt tears stream down his face as he rode Baby down the hill. He immediately was feeling embarrassed for his reaction and after getting to the bottom of the hill, just on the edge of town, Dean had steered Baby to some trees. He had climbed off of her and slumped down against one of the trees and broke down. 

He had fucked up everything and didnt know how he was going to fix everything.

When he couldn't cry anymore, Dean headed to the first bar he saw, and now he was feeling the effects. 

Taking in deep breaths, it took about an hour lying in bed for Dean to feel somewhat better, and he got out of bed, pulling on the olive green pants. They fit perfectly and the fabric felt really nice on Dean’s skin. 

Peeking through his door, he didn't see Cas, so Dean quickly stepped into his bathroom. Checking his reflection in the mirror overlooking the sink, Dean grimaced at the sight of his face. His left cheek was purple, a few cuts around his temple were red, and the cut on his lip crusted over. There wasn't anything he could really do about it all though, and after gently pressing a cold washcloth to his face, Dean headed into the hallway. 

When Dean walked into the living room, he saw that Cas was in the kitchen. 

“How are you feeling, Dean?”

Dean took a breath. “Okay…I’m sorry–”

“Dean, it’s okay. Do you...do you wanna talk about it…maybe,” Cas paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “Maybe that’ll help…”

“It’s–” Dean sat down, cupping the coffee Cas had handed him. Cas sat across from him, his face patient. 

“This…this town–” Dean started again, staring at his coffee. “Half of them ain't so bad you know…but the other half…they just never let me forget it…and they're so loud about it…” He took in a shaky breath. “You know about my dad but he–I dont want to defend him, thats not fair, I shouldn’t have to…he fucked up alot of things after my mom died but he…you know never hit me or Sammy…he wasn’t abusive like that he just…” 

Dean took a shaky breath, rubbing his face. 

“He just became a shell…and he couldn't move on, couldn't sell the house, couldn't work, he let the garden die, got rid of anything that reminded him of mom…” Dean's hands started shaking and he buried his face, trying to hide from Cas.

Cas reached over, gently laying a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“I think he was angry too…at ‘god’ or whatever…and at the town…he was struggling but no one would give him a chance…not like you gave me…” Dean looked up, his eyes full of unshed tears. 

Cas squeezed Dean’s shoulder, his heart aching. He shifted his seat towards Dean and wrapped his arms around the man, bringing his head to his shoulder. Dean stiffened at the closeness, but then quickly relaxed, his arms tightening around Cas’s back. His tears started coming, and then Dean was shaking against Cas, letting it all out as Cas held him. 

“I’m going to help you through this, Dean, I promise.” Cas whispered.

Some time had passed when eventually Dean broke their embrace, feeling a bit calmer but also embarrassed and had gone to start his chores, despite Cas offering to do them instead. 

* * * 

The afternoon sun was just beginning to peak behind the clouds when Dean saw Cas walking towards him. 

“Come on, Dean, I want to show you something.” 

Dean’s brows furrowed but he wordlessly followed Cas outside, where Cas had gotten Baby and Hannah out of the stables. 

“Hop on and follow me.” Cas said, climbing onto Hannah. Dean climbed onto Baby and followed Cas through the woods that bordered Cas's land. They travelled for a couple of minutes when Cas steered Hannah off trail and stopped at what looked to be a decent size pond. 

“What is this?” Dean asked. 

“It's a hot spring,” Cas explained, climbing off of Hannah. He tied her to a tree, and then to Dean’s astonishment, he started taking off his clothes.

“What—what are you doing?!” Dean yelped, looking away,

“I'm going for a swim.” Cas said, as if it was the most casual thing. 

“But you're taking off your clothes.” Dean stammered, feeling his face redden. 

“Well, I don't want to head back home in wet clothes now, do I, Dean?” Cas said, with a wink. 

Dean kept his face trained away from Cas, starting intently at a tree. He could see Cas move in his peripheral vision, and he tried not to look as a very naked Cas entered the pool. 

“You could join me, if you want.” Cas said as he swam lazily in the pool. Dean’s cheeks flushed but once Cas was fully emerged in the water, Dean hopped off of Baby, tying her near Hannah. He stood behind her as he undressed and when he saw Cas dive under the water, Dean hurriedly waded into the water. 

The heat was surprising but comforting, immediately sending relief through Dean’s aching body. The water was shallow along the edge but Dean could feel the rocky ground give way to a deeper part that allowed Cas to dive under completely. 

When Cas emerged, he saw Dean sitting in the shallow area, the water going up just below his shoulders. 

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Cas said. 

Dean smiled softly, “Yeah it does.”  

Dean relaxed in the water, leaning back slightly against the rocks as Cas floated nearby. 

—————————

When they got back home, Cas said he would finish the barn chores, ordering Dean to rest for the rest of the weekend. 

Dean wanted to argue, but cas shot him a glare, and he relented, heading to his room where he decided to start working on Cas's gift. 

He knew Cas wore suspenders, and since painting flowers throughout his room and on the fence it could tell CAs enjoyed them so he began sketching a pattern on a sheet of paper. Once he was satisfied with the pattern, he chose his color palette and then started on the suspenders. 

Dean worked slowly, wanting them to turn out perfect. It was past midnight when he finished and after washing the paint off his hands, Dean collapsed onto his bed, sleep taking over quickly. 

Friday afternoon and Dean had Cas’s gift wrapped in newspaper, clothed in his hand.

He was pacing the living room. It was after supper, and Dean had told Cas to stay seated so he could get the gift from his room. But now he was nervous, and he still hadn't handed it to Cas. 

Cas was eyeing him patiently, his eyes moving between the wrapping and back up to Dean. 

“I..um..” Dean finally started, stopping in front of Cas. “Imadethisforyou.” He blurted out, practically pushing the package into Cas’s hands. 

Cas smiled softly, and carefully unwrapped the newspaper. Cas’s eyes brightened as he eyed the small flowers painted on the royal blue suspenders. 

“Oh, Dean!” he looked up, smiling wide. Dean was staring intently at his nails, fidgeting where he stood. 

“These are,” Cas paused, looking back at the suspenders. “Very beautiful.” He looked back up at Dean, his eyes practically twinkling. 

Dean’s eyes met Cas’s, and he blushed looking away. 

Cas stood up and pulled Dean into a hug. Dean stiffened, surprised, but then he relaxed, wrapping his arm around Cas’s back. When Cas stood back, he was still smiling.

“Thank you again, Dean.” He said. “I love them.” 

Dean huffed shyly, looking away. “You're welcome Cas.” 

Chapter Text

“Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close, 

forever and ever?”

“Um, hey, Cas?” Dean asked as he walked into the living room. It was Sunday, Cas had just gotten back from service and he was sitting on the couch, a book in hand. 

“Good morning, Dean.” Cas said, smiling up at Dean. He arched a brow, curious when he noticed that Dean was holding a pair of scissors and a razor. 

“I was wondering if you could give me a haircut? I usually do this myself but, um, I wanted to do something a little different...” He trailed off, fidgeting on his feet. 

Cas looked at Dean’s hair curiously. It had gotten a little long, the front almost brushing against Dean’s eyes while the sides grazed Dean’s ears. 

“Of course, um, what did you want to do differently?”

“Well, normally I keep it short, but I’ve been growing it out…” He paused. “I want to keep the top long and shave the sides, but also keep it long in the back? Does that make sense?” 

Cas nodded. “Let’s head outside, there is better light and it would be easier to clean up.”

Cas pulled a chair outside on the pouch along with a towel and two hand held mirrors. 

Dean sat down, feeling nervous but not because he feared Cas would mess up, but that Cas would be so close to him…touching him…

He fidgeted in his seat as Cas draped a towel around his shoulders.

“How short did you want the sides?” Cas asked as he lightly trailed his fingers through Dean’s hair. 

Dean shivered against Cas’s touch. “Um…” he cleared his throat. “Pretty short, like close to shaved and uh, you don’t have to cut any here. On top”. Dean moved his hair, showing Cas where he wanted him to cut and where to keep long. “I want to grow the top out longer…”

Cas hummed in acknowledgment, and began brushing Dean’s hair. 

Dean wasn't sure when he realized how much he liked having longer hair. But keeping his hair short was just easier and he felt like he did not stick out too much…

Dean sat quietly, holding the mirror as Cas trimmed the sides. His fingers brushed Dean's neck, sending goosebumps down Dean's spine. 

“Alright,” Cas said, taking a step back. He held up another mirror behind Dean so he could see the back. “How does it look?” 

Dean blushed, a smile forming on his face. It was exactly how he wanted it. 

“It’s perfect Cas, thank you.” 

Cas’s cheeks pinked. “You’re welcome, Dean.”

———————————

The next day came and Dean was on top of Cas’s roof.

He had noticed there were leaks and he wanted to get those repaired before the spring showers came. It was early and Cas was still asleep, completely unaware that Dean was on his roof. Dean had propped a ladder on the left side of the house, opposite where Cas’s bedroom was, so as to not disturb him, and had tied a long rope around his waist and secured it to the chimney, just in case. 

He moved methodically, careful moving a crate of roof tiles he had found in the barn when he first did inventory. He repaired each broken tile, patching up any holes found. 

When Dean was on the other side of the roof, above Cas’s bedroom, he heard the front door slam and footsteps along the porch, down the stairs, coming closer towards him. 

“Dean!” Cas yelled. “What are you doing?” 

Dean huffed, and turned on his knees. He peaked over the ledge, seeing that Cas was in his robe, rain boots haphazardly thrown on. 

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Dean exclaimed, smirking. “I’m fixing your roof, obviously; you've got a lot of leaks.” 

Cas rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “And you couldn’t wait till I woke up to help? What if you've fallen?”

Dean blinked, noting the worry that laced Cas’s tone. He knew to be careful, he had repaired his dad’s roof countless times, and always made sure he had a safety rope. But looking down at Cas, he realized just how worried the man was. Swallowing his guilt, Dean climbed down the ladder.

“I’m sorry, Cas, I–”

Cas looked pained, but once Dean was back at eye level, his face contorted into something softer. 

“No, it's–I mean,” He paused, taking a breath. “You can finish…just tell me next time. I won't stop you from doing more chores, I know you like to have more responsibility, but I want you to just tell me. Okay? I hate to see you get hurt.” 

Dean was startled by Cas’s worry, and typically he would snap out a snide remark about how he wasn’t ‘fragile’, and he could handle himself, but instead, he understood Cas’s worry. He had grown to worry for the man as well, and it made his heart ache knowing that Cas had clearly grown to care for him too. 

Looking back at Cas, Dean nodded. Cas looked at him for a moment and then shivered. Looking down, it seemed Cas was only now realizing he was just in his robe. His face pinked and he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. 

“Um…just wait here, Dean. I’ll just…be right back.” Cas hurried inside, leaving Dean shifting by the ladder. 

When Cas came back, he was dressed, with two cups of coffee in hand. Handing a cup to Dean, Cas then moved a chair from the porch and set it a few feet away from the house.

“Er, what are you doing?” Dean asked, a perplexed expression on his face. 

“I’m going to drink my coffee, and read the paper.” Cas answered innocently, sitting down. 

He was facing the house, with a clear view of the rooftop. 

Dean scoffed, his lips turning up into a smile. “Right…okay, I’ll just…”

“You can do whatever, Dean.” Cas said, glancing down at the paper.

Dean let out a small laugh and then climbed back onto the roof. Once he refastened the rope around his waist, he glanced down, and realized he had a clear view of Cas. Cas’s eyes peaked over the paper, glinting, and Dean felt his cheeks warm. 

Shaking his head, Dean got back to work, feeling Cas’s eyes on him the entire time. 

—————————

“I got a lot of compliments on the suspenders today, Dean.” Cas said over dinner the next day. 

Dean looked up. He hadn't joined Cas on his trip into town, not wanting to deal with the whispering and gossip. 

Cas continued. “And someone asked where I got them and I told them you painted them, and do you want to know what they said?” 

Dean shrugged, trying not to show that he cared. 

“They wanted to see if you would be willing to paint another pair, for her wife? They’d pay you, of course.” 

Dean's eyes widened and then narrowed. “She…she wanted me to make her some?”

“Yes, she thinks they're very beautiful and wanted to commission a pair. So…” Cas got up and pulled out a package; inside were brand new, navy blue suspenders. 

“What...what did she have in mind?” 

Cas smiled as Dean looked over the suspenders. 

Dean spent the rest of the evening painting, while Cas sat peacefully on the couch, reading a book. He had the radio on, and soft country music filled the pleasant quiet. The whole moment felt painstakingly domestic and Dean didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.  

Chapter Text

“You’re a cowboy like me, perched in the dark.”

When Dean entered the kitchen Thursday morning, Cas was already in the kitchen, making breakfast. 

“Good morning, Dean!” Cas exclaimed, smiling wide. He handed Dean a cup of coffee and when his hand grazed Dean, Dean felt a tingle rush through him, making him blush. 

“Er, good morning, Cas.” Dean replied, taking the cup of coffee.

Cas smiled at him softly. 

“I didn't want to wait till lunch, I made you something.” He said, guiding Dean into the kitchen. 

Dean’s heartbeat increased as he felt Cas’s lingering touch on his hip. When Cas moved out of the way, there sat a cherry pie on the counter. 

“You–you made me a pie?” Dean said, confused. 

Cas nodded, beaming. 

“Congrats on one week sober, Dean.”

Dean’s face reddened. He looked away, his throat constricting. 

“It's something to be proud of Dean.” Cas said, softly. 

Dean nodded, and after a moment, he cleared his throat. “Thank you, Cas.” He said, returning Cas’s smile. 

Cas couldn't wait for Dean to try the pie, so after a breakfast of cereal and fruit, Cas cut out a slice for him. 

The pie was delicious, and when Dean told Cas, Cas beamed brightly, his eyes twinkling. 

The two enjoyed the pie in a comfortable silence. Once Dean finished, he cleared his throat, wanting to ask Cas a rather personal question. 

“Um, Cas?” he started, trying to clear the nerves away.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas answered as he cleaned up their plates. 

“How…how long have you been sober?” 

Cas paused in what he was doing, turning to Dean. To Dean’s relief, Cas didn't look mad, but like he was thinking intently.

“I’m…” Cas started before sighing. He went to sit down in the chair diagonal from Cas, looking at Dean sincerely. “I’m ‘technically’ not sober.” 

Dean jolted back a bit, startled. Blinking fast, he processed what Cas just said, and then gaped at him, his brows furrowing. 

“I…I don't know why I thought you were.” He said at last. It was rumored throughout town that Cas had a ‘dry house’, meaning he didn't have any alcohol, but also he rarely was seen in bars in the first place, so there was no reason to think he did drink. 

“I don't drink.” Cas clarified, shrugging. “But my father did…he’s the reason I don’t drink or want to ever start.” 

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Cas titled his head. 

Dean stuttered “I mean…you don’t like being around drunks…then why…”

“Why did I ‘take you in’?”

Dean nodded solemnly. 

Cas’s brows furrowed, and he bit his lip as he thought for a moment. “Because…you deserve this, Dean, and you looked like someone who needed to be given a second chance…and wouldn’t take it for granted…” He paused. “ And I don’t think of you as a drunk…”

Dean fidgeted under Cas's gaze, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “Yeah…right.”

”It's true, Dean.” Cas said, his eyes soft. He could sense Dean was overwhelmed, and he reached a hand over to rest atop Dean’s. Dean stiffened slightly but he didn't remove his hand. 

—-------------------------

The next day, Cas was loading some things onto Hannah to make a quick trip into town, and run a few errands when Dean approached him. 

Dean handed the commissioned suspenders to Cas. 

Cas eyed the suspenders in awe. Dean had painted sunflowers in bright yellow and orange shades along the blue suspenders .

“They are very beautiful, Dean.” 

Dean fidgeted, blushing. 

“Did you want to come into town with me today? You can deliver them yourself?” 

Dean shook his head, and without saying anything else, he headed back to his room. 

—————————

Another weekend passed in quiet harmony, and on Monday, Cas was packing up the wagon to head into town, when Dean approached him.  

“Is it…is it okay if I join you?” 

Cas smiled softly at Dean. “Of course.” 

Dean smiled, but then he saw that Cas was wearing his suspenders again.

“You're wearing them again?” 

“Of course, Dean, I love them.” 

Dean blushed, feeling a flutter in his stomach as he climbed into the wagon. 

Cas dropped off Dean by the bookstore before he headed towards the grocery store.

”See you in a bit, Dean.” Cas waved, his smile bright. Dean waved back, smiling as he watched Cas steer Hannah. 

Dean headed inside, and after looking around casually, and found a batman comic book he wanted. He walked up to the front desk, seeing a red-haired woman standing there, reading. 

Seeing Dean approaching her, she straightened up. “Hiya,” she greeted Dean, smiling. Taking Dean’s book, she began the transaction. “Good choice.” She remarked as she wrapped up the book. 

Dean’s eyes widened when he saw her suspenders, bright sunflowers popped against the blue. 

“Your–your suspenders?” He stammered. 

“Yes! Aren't they amazing! My wife commissioned an artist for them.”

Dean’s face flushed red at the word artist and he looked away. The woman was very observant and when she saw Dean's reaction and the dried paint along his jacket, her face brightened. 

“Oh my stars! You're Dean, right? The one who made these?” The red haired asked, excitedly.  

Dean blushed furiously, nodding. 

“I’m Charlie.” The woman reached out her hand to shake Dean’s hand.

“I see you like Batman? What other comics do you like?” The woman was very excited, and slowly, Dean started to relax.

The two talked for a bit, and Charlie made Dean give her Cas’s landline so she could call him whenever they got the next edition. 

When Cas saw Dean heading back to him, Cas couldn't help but notice Dean looked brighter, his face relaxed. He saw that Dean was carrying a wrapped book from the bookstore. 

“What book did you get?” Cas asked as he and Dean climbed into the wagon. 

Dean flushed a little. “Just a comic book.” 

Cas rolled his eyes teasingly. “What kind of comic?” 

“Batman.” Dean let out a small giggle and Cas beamed at him. He loved seeing Dean this way, feeling a flutter in his stomach as he watched Dean hold the book carefully. 

“I got another compliment about my suspenders.” Cas told Dean on their way back home. He looked over at Dean, noticing that Dean’s face was one again flushed pink.

“When I told them who painted them, they wanted you to commission something. Would you want to do that again?” 

Dean nodded, his face bright. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

———————————

A week later, the town was buzzing about Dean Winchester and this time, the gossip was good. People were leaving notes in Cas’s mail box, wanting commision for a variety of things; leather jackets and suspenders, gloves, and hats, and furniture, children's toys, and even a baby crib.

Dean was overwhelmed but once Cas helped him sort through everything and assured him people would be patient, he started working on smaller projects first, taking it one day at a time and by the time March ended and April came, Dean was working on a project once a week, taking his time on each one. 

As April brought rain, Dean spent most of his free time painting, and when he wasn't taking care of the barn, he was by Cas’s side, helping him harvest the garden, making jam and preserves and taking care of the hives. 

Currently, he was inside while it poured hard outside. Cas was curled up on the couch, deep in thought as he tried to solve a crossword puzzle. Dean's heart tightened at the pure domesticity of it all. Usually on a rainy day like this he’d be in a bar, playing pool, nursing a drink as  hustled tourists. 

As the rain came down, and Cas got up to make them both some tea and lunch, Dean hoped this would last forever. 

Chapter Text

“Say it once again with feeling,

how the death rattle breathing 

silenced as the soul was leaving.

The deflation of our dreaming,

Leaving me bereft and reeling.”

A loud bang startled Dean awake. A spring storm was beginning to form outside, wind howling and shaking the house. But then a second bang got Dean jumping out of bed. 

That was not thunder.

Throwing on a pair of pants, Dean stalked into the hallway. Knocking on Cas’s door while he opened it, he stood in the doorway.

“Er, Cas?”

Cas stirred awake, but didnt get up.

Huffing, and feeling his anxiety grow more fervent, Dean walked over to Cas’s bed, gently shaking him awake.

“Cas?” 

Cas hummed, blinking open his eyes. It took a moment for his vision to focus on Dean, and when he did, he sat up slightly. Rubbing his face, he titled his head.

“Dean, what's wrong?” He asked, his voice was deep from sleep. 

Before Dean could answer, another bang came from outside, and Cas jerked up, his eyes wide. 

“That sounded like the barn door.” Cas said, clearing his voice. 

“I think so…what should we do?” 

But Cas didn't answer; he hurried out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt before stalking towards the front door. 

“Cas, wait–” Dean followed right behind him. Cas had opened the cabinet that stood next to the door before the mudroom, and inside there was a tall safe. Entering the code, Cas pulled out a hunting rifle. 

“Get your handgun, Dean.” Cas ordered. Dean gaped at him for a second, before running back to his room for the gun under his bed.

Meeting Cas back in the mudroom, Cas looked at him apprehensively before opening the door. 

“Stay behind me.” Cas ordered before looking towards the barn. The light was on inside, one of the barn doors was swinging open and there were shadows moving in the barn. 

It all happened so fast. 

When Cas reached the barn, the door bursted open, and a man came tackling Cas. His rifle went flying out of his hands as he wrestled with the man. Dean tried to pull the man off but then another man came out of the shadows and tackled Dean. Punches went flying, Dean’s gun was knocked out of his hands. There were at least three drifters, one on Cas, and two on Dean. 

When Dean tried to get back on his feet, he was knocked down when someone hit him in the back with a two-by-four, and one of the men climbed on the Dean, holding him down at the waist as he swung at Dean’s head. 

And then a shot rang out.

The drifter near Cas immediately bolted towards the woods, and Dean saw Cas lying on the ground. 

“Ca–Cas!” Dean shouted, his heart plummeting. Feeling a rush of rage, Dean twisted underneath the drifter and broke free from his grip. Once he got his footing, Dean grabbed his handgun that had fallen and aimed it towards the drifter. The drifter stumbled to his feet, hand raised and when Dean lowered the gun, the man ran off, after his partners.

Panting, Dean spun back around, running towards Cas.

“Cas…Cas?” Dean’s voice shook as he looked over Cas’s injury. 

“Dean–” Cas spluttered, his breathing haggard. He was clutching his shoulder, and blood was pooled between his fingers. His face was pale, his forehead slick with sweat. Dean's mind went into autopilot and he quickly ran to the supply closet in the barn, grabbing the first aid kit and some clean towels. Kneeling back down at Cas, Dean pulled out scissors to cut the sleeve of Cas’s shirt. 

Dean's hands were shaking as he tried to look at the wound. The bleeding stopped, and Dean started wiping the blood away, grimacing when Cas let out a strangled gasp. 

“I’m sorry, Cas, I’m sorry–” Dean stammered, trying to keep his voice from breaking. He needed to get the bullet out, and after seeing it was a shallow wound, he rummaged in the first aid kit, but he couldn't find anything to use to get the bullet out. 

Dean’s breathing grew ragged; he could feel his panic rising. He needed…he needed things he didn't have and he didn't know if he should carry Cas back to the house or leave him there…the wind was picking up again, and the air crackled as a storm formed above them. 

“Dean–” Cas muttered, his eyes glazing over.

“Cas I–I need to get you inside.” 

Cas groaned as Dean wrapped one of the towels around Cas’s shoulder. Tying it tightly against Cas, Dean then pulled Cas up, holding him against him as he walked as fast as he could to the house. 

Suddenly the sky erupted, and rain came crashing down on them. By the time Dean made it inside the house, he and Cas were soaked, the latter shaking violently. 

Dean laid Cas onto the table. He ran to the kitchen, opening cabinets, searching for what he needed. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cried. 

Stalking back to Cas, Dean gripped Cas's face, shaking him. 

“Cas, Cas, stay with me.” He shook him again. “Cas, open your eyes dammit!”

Cas shifted, a moan escaping his lips as he cracked his eyes open.

“Cas…do you have forceps anywhere?”

Cas moaned, his face contorted in pain. 

“Cas!” Dean gripped his face, shaking him slightly. “Stay awake, please…forceps?”

“In the…cabinet, in the mudroom.”

“Okay, okay, Cas, I’ll be right back.” Dean ran and grabbed the forceps, and then ran to his room, and pulled out the unopened bottle of whiskey under his bed. He then grabbed a belt and ran back to Cas.

“Cas, please don't be mad…” He unscrewed the whiskey, and cradled Cas’s neck. 

Cas furrowed his brows, grimacing as his shoulder throbbed. 

“Okay, Cas, I'm sorry, this…this is gonna hurt.” Dean took in a breath, trying to calm his shaking hands. He brought the bottle to Cas's lips, titled Cas’s head back slightly. 

“I need you to drink, Cas, it won't take the pain away but it’ll alleviate it, I promise.”

But Cas kept his lips tightly closed, weakly shaking his head.

“Cas, please,” Dean begged, his hand holding the bottle shaking slightly. Cas looked up at Dean, his eyes wet, pleading. 

“Please, Cas, it's…it's going to hurt so much.” 

Cas’s eyes fluttered close for a second but before Dean could panic, cracked them back open. 

Nodding, he parted lips and when Dean poured some of the drink down Cas’s throat, Cas choked slightly, grimacing as he swallowed. 

Dean grabbed the belt, and he opened Cas’s mouth slightly. 

“Bite down on this Cas.” Dean said as he removed the now blood soaked cloth off of Cas’s shoulder and poured some onto the wound. Cas arched his back, groaning loudly in pain, but Dean held him down, muttering apologies. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” 

He poured some of the whiskey on his hands and then the forceps before setting the bottle down. He then wiped around the wound with a rag. 

“Okay,” He took a deep breath in. “I’m going to stick my finger in to feel for the bullet, its…its gonna hurt Cas, I'm sorry.” 

Cas looked up at Dean through his hooded eyes, his breathing labored through the belt in his mouth. Nodding, Cas weakly gripped Dean's hand with his own. He shut his eyes as he felt Dean’s fingers touch around the wound. 

“I'm sorry, Cas.” Dean murmured as he felt around for the bullet. Cas was groaning loudly, biting down hard on the belt, his body was squirming in pain underneath Dean’s hands. 

Once he felt metal, he inserted the forceps, trying to hold a steady grip against Cas to prevent too much damage. 

Grabbing the bullet, he pulled it out and tossed it aside. 

Letting out a breath, Dean grabbed some clean towels and started putting pressure against the wound.

“There, it’s over, Cas…” He whispered, his voice shaking. “It's over now, it's over…” 

Cas was shaking underneath him, his eyes shut. 

Dean wrapped the cloth against Cas’s shoulder tightly, and then he reached for the landline on the wall, calling Sheriff Mills and Dr. Donatello, his hands shaking so much he had to redial twice.

Once they confirmed they were on their way, Dean went back towards Cas. Cas’s breathing had slowed down a bit, but he was still pale, his face slicked with sweat. When Cas’s eyes cracked open, Dean felt his heart tightened. 

“Hey…Cas,” his voice cracked. “You’re…I think you're gonna be okay. Um, Donatello is on his way, and Jody too…” He took in a staggering breath, and when Cas let out a weak gasp, nodding that he had heard Dean, Dean’s throat constricted. He barely made it just in time to the sink before he emptied out his stomach, his body shaking. 

After he had nothing else to throw up, Dean filled a glass with water, taking a long sip before moving to Cas. Lifting his head slightly, he brought the bottle to Cas’s lips, letting him take a drink. 

“Okay…you’ll be okay…” Dean murmured, wiping away some sweat from Cas’s cheek. 

Red and blue lights illuminated the walls from outside and Dean hurriedly ran to the door, opening it up just as Jody and Donna came in, with Dr. Donatello right behind them. 

“Let the doctor look over Mr. Novak,” Jody said, “Tell me what happened, Dean.” She asked, gently leading Dean out to the porch. 

The rain had let up at that point, the storm clearing as Dean rehashed everything that had happened. He didn't get a good look at the three men, their faces a blur as it had happened all so fast. At some point, Donna had draped a blanket over Dean, his body shaking from the adrenaline. 

Once the cops were done, notes were taken down, and patrols were sent out to look through the hills, the doctor came out.

“How is he?” Dean asked, his voice shaking.

“He’ll be fine.” Dr. Donatello started, looking at Dean softly. “He’s going to need a lot of rest, and round the clock care. The bandages should be changed every two hours for the 24 hours, and then every 8 hours after, until the stitches dissolve." The doctor handed Dean a paper. “Here is the list of care, and everything, and this,” He pulled out a bottle of medicine. “Is some medicine for when he wakes up. He’s going to be in some pain for at least a day, probably incoherent. That’s normal. His mind should clear in about two days.” Donatello gently squeezed Dean’s shoulder before walking towards the sheriff. 

Dean took in a breath before making his way to Cas, who was now lying in his bed, a bandage wrapped tightly around his arm and shoulder. He was fast asleep, his breathing normal, but he was still pale. 

Dean’s lip trembled as he sat in the chair next to Cas’s bed, his head falling into his hands.

Chapter Text

“You’re a bandit like me, 

Eyes full of stars,

Hustling for the good life,

Never thought I’d meet you here

It could be love.

We could be the way forward,

And I’ll know I’ll pay for it”

He's not sure how long he stayed there, but at some point he must've passed out because when he jerked awake, the sun was shining brightly in Cas’s room. 

Looking around the room, Dean realized he had fallen asleep with his head by Cas’s hand; Cas’s  fingers had lightly stroked his cheek, pulling him out of his slumber.

“Cas…?” Dean’s voice cracked  as he took in Cas in front of him. 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas whispered. His eyes were hooded but bright, his skin was no longer pale; his cheeks flushed pink. 

“How…how are you?” Dean asked, weakly. 

Cas let out a breath. “I’ll be okay, Dean.” he softly smiled. “Are you okay?” 

Dean scoffed lightly. “What–yeah I’m fine.” He looked away from Cas’s gaze. 

Cas shot Dean a pointed look, arching a brow, but Dean ignored him. 

“Dean,” Cas said more sternly, though his lips twitched up in a lopsided smile.

Dean finally looked at Cas. “I wouldn't worry about me, Cas.” he muttered.

Cas furrowed his brows. “I’ll always worry about you, Dean.” 

Dean jolted at that, his eyes widening, but he didnt know how to respond to that. 

“Did you want me to get you any medicine? Dr. Donatello said you’d be in some pain…”

“I’m okay for now, Dean. Thank you.”

Dean fidgeted, his anxiety rising but then Cas cleared his throat. 

“Not to be rude,” Cas started, “But you kinda smell.” He wiggled his nose, a weak giggle escaping his lips. 

Dean’s brows furrowed but he glanced down at himself; there was dried blood on his clothes, and mud caked on his shoes and pants. 

Scoffing, Dean stood up, his back aching from being slouched in the chair for too long. He looked over Cas, hesitant. 

Cas noticed Dean’s hesitancy. “Dean, I’ll be fine, just please, go shower. You can use mine, if you want to be close by.” 

Dean’s throat constricted, but he nodded.

“I–I need to change your bandages–”

“Shower first, Dean,” Cas huffed. 

Dean grimaced and then quickly ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. He was back in Cas’s room within a breath, Cas rolling his eyes as Dean looked over at him, making sure he was okay. 

“Dean.” Cas scoffed. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Dean huffed, heading to the bathroom. He kept the bathroom door cracked open though, and Cas felt his face warm as he saw a glimpse of Dean’s body as he stepped into the shower. 

Dean showered in record time, scrubbing his skin pink and getting dressed in clean clothes in under 5 minutes. 

When he walked back into Cas’s room, Cas had fallen into a light sleep. 

Gathering some clean bandages, Dean gently removed the old wrapping, and Cas shifted against him, his eyes cracking open. He grimaced as Dean lifted him slightly to wrap the new bandage around him, but Dean kept his touch gentle, and soon the wrapping was done. Tossing the old ones away, Dean stayed sitting on Cas’s bed, his hip pressing against Cas’ thigh under the blankets, watching Cas as he fell back asleep. 

Cas could have sworn he felt a soft kiss on his cheek as he drifted off. 

————————-

“That whiskey you had, Dean,” Cas started, as he shifted in his bed, trying to ease the ache in his back from lying in bed all day. 

Dean fidgeted under Cas's gaze as he cleaned Cas’s shoulder. The stitches hadn’t completely dissolved yet, and Dean was persistent every couple hours to make sure they were kept clean. 

“I didn't drink it, Cas…” Dean murmured, a guilty look growing on his face.

“Okay.” Cas said. “I believe you. But why did you have it?”

Dean’s eyes burned and he tried to turn his gaze away but Cas reached his hand to cup Dean’s jaw, holding him in place. 

Finally Dean looked up, and he bit his lip, taking a breath before answering. 

“I…I honestly don't know–I didn't think I’d last this long…” Dean paused, his throat constricting. Blinking, a few tears escaped and he leaned back, trying to remove Cas’s hand from his face, but Cas held firm, swiping away the tears with his fingers. Dean took in a staggering breath, keeping his gaze on his hands that were fidgeting with the bedsheets.  

“Did you throw it away?” Cas asked, trying to get Dean to look at him, but the man kept his head down.

Dean still didn't look up, but he softly nodded, his lip trembling. 

Cas sighed, moved his hand from Dean’s cheek to his hand gripping the sheets, and relaxed against the pillows as Dean’s heart broke that Cas believed his lie. 

—--------------------

Dean spent the next week glued to Cas’s bedside, only leaving to fetch the man anything and everything he needed. It was three days in when Cas ordered him to take care of himself as well, but even then, Dean ate and slept in Cas’s room, curled up in the chair in the corner.

He had made sure to keep the wound cleaned, changing the bandages as often as ordered, making Cas eat, making sure Cas fully healed. The chores were all but forgotten apart from checking in on Hannah and Baby in their stables, which would take Dean twice as long, as he would check in on Cas every ten minutes.

“Cas, are you…are you sure about this?” Dean asked, fidgeting on his feet.

Cas was leaning back in a chair, his head over the sink in the kitchen. He had a towel draped over his shoulders, a bowl of shaving cream in his hands. 

“Yes, Dean.” Cas said, offering a reassuring smile as he looked up at Dean. 

As he was bedridden, the usual clean shaven look he had had turned into a beard and he wanted Dean to give him a shave. He could've done it himself, albeit slowly, but Dean had trusted him with his haircut and he wanted to give his trust to Dean in a similar way. 

Dean looked unsure, but Cas could see his hands were still as he gripped the razor. 

“I trust you, Dean.” Cas said, shifting in his seat as he closed his eyes. He heard Dean take a breath and then gently pick up the brush to scoop up some of the shaving foam. He applied the foam along Cas’s jaw, gently brushing some along his upper lip and then Cas felt Dean’s hand gently touch his chin as he began shaving. 

The kitchen was silent apart from the gentle scraping of the razor against Cas’s skin and Cas felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest with how close Dean was; he could feel his breath against his skin as the man delicately grazed the razor against Cas’s cheek. 

He remained still, but he felt his face heat up as Dean gently titled his chin up to shave along his neck. 

It was over too soon though, Dean gently wiping Cas’s face with a warm towel, removing the remnants of the foam. Dean poured a little aftershave in his hand and gently patted it against Cas’s cheeks. When Cas opened his eyes, he noticed that Dean’s eyes were almost black, the pupils dilated. 

Dean shifted back, not expecting Cas looking up at him, and his own cheeks flushed pink. 

Clearing his throat, Dean collected the bowl of leftover shaving cream and guided Cas to sit up, taking the towel from his shoulders. He handed Cas a mirror as he silently washed the bowl.

Cas eyed himself and then turned slightly around, placing a hand on Dnea’ forearm. 

“Thank you, Dean.” He said. 

Dean fidgeted under Cas’s gaze, but he met his eyes, smiling softly. 

“You're welcome, Cas.” 

* * *

When the doctor cleared Cas was able to move around now, with supervision, and plenty of rest, Dean led him outside slowly and sat him in a chair to keep an eye on him while he did the barn chores, much to Cas’s amusement. 

He knew he would be fine, but knowing Dean needed him nearby, made him feel something he never thought he would ever feel. He revelled in Dean’s company, so he let the man take care of him. That was not something Cas had ever trusted anyone with before, and as he rested and healed, his love for Dean blossomed into something much more deeper.

More profound.

—————————

“I’ll be fine, Dean.” Cas assured him, climbing onto the wagon. His shoulder was almost fully healed now, and the doctor had cleared him to get back to work. He had a lot of food to sell, and he looked forward to heading back into town after nearly two weeks off. 

Dean was fidgeting with Hannah’s harness, his face painted with worry. He would've gone with Cas, but the trip would take half the day, and they still had a lot of things to catch up on on the farm. 

“Dean.” Cas said, his voice firm but gentle. 

Dean’s eyes met Cas’s, and after taking a deep breath, Dean nodded, handing the reins to Cas.

While Cas was in town, Dean kept busy; he repaired Baby’s horseshoes, gave her a bath and cleaned the stables. He swept the porch, cleaned out the chicken coop, harvested some vegetables for dinner later, and yet, by late afternoon, he had finished and Cas hadn't gotten home yet. 

He paced the living room, and he could feel it coming; the tightening his chest was increasing, making him feel like he couldn't catch his breath.

He tried to reassure himself, Cas was fine, he was in town, the drifters that hurt him had already been caught; Jody had delivered that news last week. The drifters had hoped to steal the horses but had been too drunk to do so quietly but Dean couldn't help thinking of all the what-ifs. 

This was new to him; this kind of worry for someone he cared so deeply about; he worried about his brother, of course, but knowing Sam had Eileen provided Dean with a sense of trust that he was looked out after. 

Cas didn't have anybody. 

Trying to catch his breath, Dean paced to his room, finding the whiskey bottle he had shoved back in his drawer that night. His hands shook as he cradled the bottle, but he didn't open it. He knew he should've thrown it away that night. But he couldn't, even knowing how disappointed Cas would be if he ever found it. 

He was weak and he berated himself for thinking he could be anything else. He put the bottle back and swiftly shut the door of his bedroom before walking back outside. 

Trying to keep the panic attack at bay, Dean jogged swiftly over to Baby and within minutes he was riding her down the hill. 

He rode her, focusing on the wind against his face as he steered her towards the edge of Cas’s property. Cas had left the gate open, so Dean rode past it, and kept riding. 

He rode until he saw the town appear and then he steered Baby to the side, under some trees. Hoping off, Dean tried to catch his breath. The panic he was feeling had dissipated a bit, enough for him to feel a tiny bit better but he was starting to feel exhausted. 

He took his jacket off, setting it down underneath a tree and he lied down, shutting his eyes, trying to focus on the sounds around him. 

Cas was heading home, exhausted. He forgot how needy the town was when it came to gossip; as soon as he was seen on Main Street, people came up to him, offering their apologies about his injury, inquiring about Dean, and it took a whole lot longer to remove himself from people’s attention and finally, as the sun began to set behind the hills, he was heading back to Dean. 

Stuck in his thoughts, Cas almost didn't even notice there was a figure lying against a tree, a black horse grazing nearby. 

“Dean–DEAN!?” Cas shouted, nearly falling off the wagon as he abruptly steered Hannah towards Baby. 

As soon as he could, Cas jumped off and ran towards Dean, who appeared to have just woken up, rubbing his eyes as he blinked up at Cas.

“Dean, what are you–what’s wrong?” Cas couldn't help the worry leak out of his voice, his eyes wide as he tried to see if Dean was hurt. 

“I’m–I’m fine now, Cas.” Dean said, standing up. His face was a bit paler than usual, his eyes red, but as Cas observed him, he noticed that his breathing was normal, and he wasn't avoiding eye contact or fidgeting. 

“You're–you’re fine now?” Cas said, his brow furrowing. “Were you–were you not fine?” 

Dean gulped, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at Cas. 

“I just—” Dean started, his cheeks pinking. “I was worried about you.” He said, sheepishly.

“Oh.” Cas said, blinking. “Oh, right, Dean, I’m–I’m fine…just tired.” 

Cas tilted his head as he noticed Dean’s expression turned pained. 

“Dean…” Cas walked closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m fine.” He said more firmly. Dean nodded but his eyes were wet. “My shoulder is fine. I’m not in any pain. I’m just tired…the town was very….chatty today.” He let out a small laugh, and Dean let out a small laugh in agreement, before wiping his eyes.

Cas kept his hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Did you want to talk about it?” 

Dean shook his head, but he smiled at Cas and Cas smiled back. Cas wanted to hug him, but before he could, Dean stepped away from him and went to tie Baby alongside the wagon before hopping in himself. 

Cas took in a breath before following Dean. 

Chapter Text

“Wherever you stray, I follow.

I’m begging for you to take my hand,

wreck my plans, that's my man.”

It was a Tuesday in late May when the phone rang, startling Dean, who was hunched over the dinner table, painting small daisies on a wooden mirror. 

Dean answered the phone, stating it was “Novak’s residence” and a female voice greeted him, saying she was from the bank. 

* * *

When Cas got back from checking on his bees, he saw Dean sitting on the couch, hunched over. 

“Hello Dean.” He said, his brows furrowed. “Everything okay?” 

Dean didn't look over at Cas, but Cas could tell Dean was nervous about something. 

“Cas, can I ask you something?” Dean’s voice was quiet, his tone careful. 

Cas hummed, setting down the jars of honey he collected. 

“Why did you set up an account for me at the bank?” 

Cas startled, caught off guard. 

“Because you needed somewhere to keep your wages you earned here.” He said, choosing his words carefully. 

“But what about my dad’s debt? Shouldn't my wages be going straight towards that?” 

Cas breathed in deeply before answering. “It’s paid off.” 

Dean finally turned to face him, his eyes wide. “What, when did–” 

“Last week, I was going to tell you–” Cas started. 

“But I haven’t earned enough–” Dean stammered, getting to his feet. 

“No you…you haven’t, I…I paid the rest and the wages you made after I put into your account. Dean, you have savings now and–” 

“But what all the money I got from the paintings…I gave you that to pay off the debt!” 

“I put that in your account as well, it’s all under your name–” 

“But…but why…why did you pay it off?” Dean’s tone was sharp, his face hardened. “Now I have to pay you back–” 

“No! No you don't, Dean. I wanted to do this for you.” Cas said. 

Dean's breathing turned ragged; he was feeling too many things but not one feeling of anger. He thought he should be angry but he found that he wasn’t and that scared him.

He started pacing, running his hands through his hair. Cas walked swiftly up to him maneuvering him to sit back down. 

“Breathe, Dean.” Cas sat next to him, their thighs touching. He held Dean’s face in his hand, and breathed with him, taking deep breaths together until Dean’s breathing started to regulate. 

“Why, Cas?” Dean whispered, reaching a hand to Cas’s that still cradled his face. He gently pulled Cas’s hands off his face but didn't remove his hand.

Cas was looking at him, his expression pained. 

“Because I care about you…” Cas whispered, casting his eyes away from Dean’s.

Dean’s heart fluttered but his voice caught in his throat. 

“And I hoped…” Cas bit his lip, looking unsure. Dean squeezed his hand that was still on top of Cas’s causing Cas to look back up at his eyes.

“I hoped you’d stay…” Cas finished, his voice soft. 

Dean gaped at him, blinking at him. When what Cas said finally processed in his mind, he jerked back. 

“I–you want me to stay? Like to…to continue to work here?” 

Cas nodded. He wanted more, so much more, but he didn't want to overwhelm Dean with his growing affection. He felt an intense connection to Dean, and it pained him to think Dean would want to leave.

“I…yeah.” Dean’s brows furrowed. “I want to stay.” He said quietly. 

Cas’s face softened, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 

* * *

Dean was tossing in bed, his mind racing. 

Cas had paid off his father’s debt.

Cas wanted him to stay. 

It didn't occur to him that he should think what to do after the debt was paid…not till the bank called, and he realized that he didn't want to leave Cas…and it made his heart ache. 

But now knowing Cas wanted him to stay too…it made Dean realize something terrifying. 

He was in love with Cas.  

* * *

Cas himself was also lying restless in bed. had turned in for the night, overwhelmed with the revelation. He was truly, madly, deeply in love with Dean, and it made him feel a lot of conflicting emotions.

When Dean had found out about the bank account, Cas worried that Dean would leave, feeling suffocated or disturbed by Cas’s actions but it.

But then Dean said he wanted to stay, Cas’s heart blossomed and he realized right then and there he was in love with Dean. The thought overwhelmed him and he had turned in for an early night, not before checking one last time Dean was okay. Dean had assured him, just vocalized that he wanted to know more about the account and how it worked, and Cas promised him he would take him to the bank.

As Cas lay awake, he thought of Dean, and then those thoughts turned to Dean sweaty; Dean smiling up at him, Dean’s muscled arms and legs as he worked, and the more Cas thought of Dean, the more he became aroused. 

Sighing, Cas reached over for the bottle of lube on the nightstand and tucked a hand into his boxers. He gripped himself, lazily stroking himself. Somewhere in the back of his brain he felt guilt; he shouldn't be doing this while thinking of Dean; it was inappropriate. But his erection didn't wane, and shamefully, Cas stroked faster, imagining Dean’s hand on him, and swiftly, he came, his moans vibrated as he rode through his orgasm. 

“Ohh, Dean.” 

* * *

Something jolted Dean awake. Blinking away sleep, Dean wasn't sure how long he’d been asleep, but glancing out his window, he could see the moon was high. 

Taking a deep breath, he headed to the bathroom. He pooled some water into his hands and washed his face, when he heard it. A muffled moan came from the other bathroom, and when Dean pressed his ear to the wall, he heard it again. Cas was moaning. At first, Dean thought maybe Cas was hurt, but before he could make a decision, he heard the moan again followed by a breathy gasp and then…

“Ohh, Dean .” 

Dean gasped, jumping back from the wall. Cas was…was pleasuring himself…and Dean was eavesdropping. Dean’s heart beat increased  as more moans followed his name, and Dean realized Cas was thinking of him as he pleasured himself. 

A bunch of thoughts came to mind. 

Did this mean that Cas wanted him…in that way too? 

Dean took in a shaky breath. His heart tightened and his eyes burned. Clutching the sink to steady himself, Dean tried to take a deep breath. He shut his eyes tightly, focused on his breathing. 

He was in love with Cas, and was only just beginning to accept it would be unrequited, but the possibility that Cas could want him too, that made him more terrified than hopeful. 

Shaking, Dean ran back to his room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from under his bed. He gripped it tightly in his hand, eyeing the golden liquid. With shaking hands he unscrewed the cap and took a sniff. 

The strong scent made him jerk back, nearly dropping the bottle. Some of the whiskey spilled onto Dean's shirt. Gasping, he quickly put the lid back on and dropped the bottle on his bed. He practically ran out of his room, and before he could make up his mind, he knocked on Cas’s door. 

* * *

Cas didn't mean to think of Dean; he was sexually frustrated and thought if he took care of the growing arousal, he’d feel less nervous around Dean…but as he touched himself, he let his fantasies take over.

After Cas got his breathing under control, he cleaned up, changing out of his soiled clothes into clean ones. Cas was feeling shame and guilt. Dean was his friend, and these fantasies were inappropriate. As Cas tried to take his mind off his guilt, there was a sharp knock on his door, causing his heart to skip a beat. 

Opening his door, Cas saw Dean standing before him, shaking, his face pale.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Cas’s eyes widened when he got a strong whiff of whiskey. His heart sank, his throat constricted. 

“Dean, have you…have you been drinking?” Cas’s voice shook with worry. 

Dean stiffened, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“Dean.”

“I…no, I didn't.” His hands were shaking as he shut his eyes tightly. “But I almost did, I'm sorry Cas…”

“Dean,” Cas sounded very disappointed, his tone sharp. “Was it the whiskey you had?”

Dean swallowed, and nodded. 

”Where’s the bottle?”

”On my bed.” 

Cas took a breath and swiftly walked to Dean’s room. Grabbing the bottle off his bed, he walked back out towards the kitchen. Dean stayed standing by Cas’s room, his posture rigid. 

”Follow me, Dean.” 

Dean followed Cas to the kitchen where Cas emptied the bottle into the sink before tossing it into the recycling. 

“I thought you threw it out.” Cas whispered, his voice stern, his back to Dean.

“I lied.” Dean whispered, taking a shaking breath. 

Cas spun around. His face contorted, from worry to anger to disappointment but, his lip trembled slightly, betraying his heart. 

“Why?” Cas's voice cracked, and his eyes were glistening. He was looking at Dean intently, his arms gripping the countertop. 

“I…I don’t know…”

Cas huffed. “This is my fault, I should’ve been stricter…I—“

“No, Cas, it’s not your fault,’’ Dean sputtered. “I fucked up…it’s what I do I—I couldnt…I shouldn’t have had it in the first place…but…I…” His voice shook and before he could stop himself, he blurted out. 

“I heard you.”

Cas gaped at him. 

“You heard what?”

Dean was staring at him, his eyes wide. His face was flushed, and he was shifting on his feet, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 

“I heard you,” he said again. “In your bedroom…I didn't mean to hear…you know..say my name...”

Cas continued to gap at him, his face reddening.

Cas’s eyes then widened when he realized that Dean had not only heard him pleasure himself, he must've heard him call out his name. 

“Dean!” Cas stammered. “I am so sorry, that was completely wrong of me, I–”

Dean looked at Cas, his expression unreadable. “I...but I think of you too…” Dean walked over to Cas, and stood directly in front of him.

Their chests were almost touching when Dean reached a hand to gently touch Cas’s cheek.

“I want you too…” He whispered, rubbing a thumb over Cas’s parted lips.

Cas’s breathing hitched. 

“Dean?”

Dean looked into Cas’s eyes and when Cas gave the smallest of nods, titling his face up just enough, Dean leaned forward, catching Cas’s lips with his own.

Cas’s lips were softer than Dean expected, and he pressed further into the kiss, slightly parting his lips to sneak his tongue over Cas’s lips. Cas hummed against him, opening up for their tongues to meet. Dean felt a wave of immense pleasure as he tasted Cas, but then Cas inhaled sharply, pushing Dean away. 

“Dean! We shouldn’t–I–I’m sorry…I don’t know what came over me.” Cas stammered, breathing hard, keeping a firm hand on Dean’s chest. 

“Cas, I–I want you.” Dean bit his lip, leaning in for another kiss. 

Cas couldn’t compute what Dean was saying, and Dean leaned forward to capture his lips again when his hands glided down to cup Cas’s ass, Cas bucked forward pushing slightly against Dean.

“Dean, I–I top.” Cas stammered as Dean moved his lips to his neck. 

Dean smirked as he placed open mouth kisses along Cas’s neck and jaw. 

“And I bottom, so that works.” He whispered in between kisses. 

Cas gasped, and then finally his brain caught up with everything and he firmly pushed Dean away. 

Dean's face before was flushed with arousal, but was now flushed with…something else. Not anger, but...something else.

Shame.  

Cas looked at him, his heart aching. 

“You…so you don’t want me?” Dean said, his voice cracking, and Cas realized Dean was about to panic.

“What, no…Dean…I–” Cas stammered, trying to catch his breath. 

“No it’s fine, Cas, I’m sorry, I didn’t–” Dean’s breathing hitched, his lip trembling. His hands shot up to cover his face. “Oh my fucking god, Cas, I’m so sorry.” Dean’s face burned red, and he tried to turn away but Cas grabbed his shoulders, keeping him in front of him. 

“Dean, listen to me.” Cas said firmly. “I don't want just this…I want you.”  

Dean stared at him, his body still shaking against Cas’s arms. 

“What–what do you mean?” Dean’s breathing was ragged, his voice trembling. His brows were furrowed as he looked at Cas. “Why would you want me…I know I’m good at sex, that should be enough…” 

Cas felt like his heart was going to break. “Dean, I don’t want just sex from you…I want—” he paused, taking a breath. “I don't just care about you, Dean…I…I like you, Dean…a lot.” He took a breath, bringing up a hand to cradle Dean’s cheek. 

“I think…I’m falling in love with you.”

Dean’s eyes welled up almost immediately, and he pushed away from Cas. Before Cas could react, Dean was out the door, running towards the barn. 

Fuck. Cas huffed, and then he was running, his bare feet be damned as he ran after Dean. 

Chapter Text

“Come on, come on, don't leave me like this,

I thought I had you figured out.

Something’s gone terribly wrong,

You're all I wanted.”

Cas ran straight towards the barn, noticing the door had been open. As soon as he got to the door, he heard a noise and then a flash of black flew by. Falling backwards onto his ass, Cas watched as Dean rode Baby barebacked, heading towards the hills. 

“Dean!” Cas shouted, getting to his feet. He ran into the barn and within a minute he was atop of Hannah, running after Dean. 

He could still hear Dean's horse trapple through the foliage that covered the hills, the dirt path barely distinguishable in the dimming light. 

As he rode Hannah up the hill, Cas realized they were headed towards Dean's father’s cabin, which was a couple miles from Cas, tucked away in the hills. There were two ways to get there; from Cas's cabin or from town which was on the other side of the hill. Cas hoped Dean would stop at the cabin and not run to town. 

He steered Hannah onward, the sky completely dark now albeit for the moonlight. 

Sooner than he thought, he saw a cabin appear ahead. There were no lights on, but he saw Baby was tied up on the fence, drinking some water out of a well. 

Letting out a breath, Cas slowed down Hannah, steering her towards Baby. 

He didn't call out for Dean, but he also wasn't quiet, not wanting to startle him. He tied up Hannah with Baby, and made his way to the front door. The front of the house was covered in foliage, the stone path almost eroded completely away. 

He wasn't going to knock, but then he heard movement in the house, and thought better to announce himself. 

“Dean?” Cas called out, knocking on the door, which creaked open. Cas took a breath and then opened the door fully. Peering in, the cabin was pitch black, the moonlight unable to shine enough for Cas to look around. 

“Dean?” he called again, cursing himself for not thinking to grab a flashlight. He opened the door all the way and felt around the side, for something to light his way and when his fingers brushed a switch, he flipped it on. A warm dim light filled the cabin, and the first thing Cas saw was Dean, curled up in the corner of the room. 

“Dean.” Cas let out a breath, relief flooding his senses. He slowly approached Dean, kneeling onto the ground in front of him. Dean had his head buried in his arms, his knees pulled towards him. He was shaking slightly, his breathing ragged. 

Cas didn’t want to push him, so he remained silent, gently laying a hand on Dean’s knee. 

Dean didn't react to his touch, but after a moment his breathing started to sound normal, his body stilled. 

“Why are you here, Cas?” Dean whispered, his voice cracking. He didn't look up at Cas, his arms still shielding his head.

Cas’s brow furrowed. “Because I care about you, Dean.”

“I’m not–” Dean’s voice shook, and he breathed in deeply before continuing. “I’m not worthy of your care, Cas, I lied to you, and I hurt you–”

“Dean,” Cas said sharply, his grip on Dean’s knee tightening. He reached a hand to stroke Dean’s hair. “You are not worthless, Dean.”

“That's not what this whole town thinks, Cas.” He spat out, looking up at Cas. Cas’s heart ached as he took in Dean’s appearance. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, and there was a furious light in his eyes. 

Cas stared back at him, his own expression furrowed with anger now. 

“What?” Dean glared back. “I am. I can’t hold a job, I can’t—I can't even talk without first drinking– I just cause trouble…I'm just like my dad–.”

“Dean.” Cas interrupted him sharply. 

“Cas, I'm not–“

“Dean,” Cas cut him off, his eyes ablaze. “You are not your father; you're not just an alcoholic, you're so much more than that and I wish you could see how I see you.” He paused, raising a hand to cut off Dean from interrupting. “People love your paintings, and they know now, you're not your father. You care so much about others too, Dean, and I care about you, don't you understand?” He gripped Dean’s face with his hands, holding his gaze. “You bring so much beauty into this world, Dean. You are beautiful, Dean Winchester.” 

Dean couldn't move his eyes from Cas’s gaze. Hip lip trembled slightly as a few tears leaked out. “Cas…” 

Cas was looking at him intensely, his thumb caressing Dean’s cheek.

“Cas…” Dean gulped, licking his lips. “I–I’m in love with you, Cas.” 

Cas gaped at him, his eyes wide. “You–you are?” This time, Cas was caught off guard. 

Dean took in a staggering breath, nodding. “I am.” 

Cas’s eyes welled up, his lips quirking up into a smile. He rested his forehead against Dean’s trying to catch his breath. Dean leaned into his touch, his hand reaching up to cover Cas’s on his cheek. 

“I love you, Dean.” Cas whispered. Dean’s breathing hitched, and he was full on crying now. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you…” Dean stuttered, his voice shaking. “I've been wanting to tell you how I felt for so long…and I couldn't do it…and I thought alcohol would help…I was going to take a drink but…I couldn’t…I didn’t want to disappoint you anymore than I already have..”

“Dean,” Cas whispered, holding him closer. “Firstly, you are not a coward. And you're not a disappointment. You made a mistake…it's going to be okay…” He leaned back, his hands cradling Dean’s face so he could look him in the eye. 

“I promise you, Dean, I’ll stay with you. I promise. I’m not going anywhere just because you made a mistake.” 

“I…I can still stay with you?” Dean’s voice cracked as he spoke.

“You can stay forever, Dean.” Cas said, more tears leaking out of his eyes. Dean breathing shook, his face reddening. He leaned forward, and tried to bury his face in Cas’s neck. His breath sent goosebumps along Cas's skin. Cas let out a soft gasp as Dean’s lips tickled his skin. 

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas tighter, practically burrowing himself against Cas. Cas moved to wrap his arms around him, making sure he knew he was safe. 

After a moment, Dean relaxed against Cas, leaning back slightly. 

“Cas?” Dean said softly, biting his lip. 

Cas leaned back on knees, keeping his arms around Dean’s shoulders. 

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean licked his lips, his eyes roaming across Cas’s face.

“Can…can we kiss…again?” 

Cas smiled wide, his face blushing. Nodding, he tilted his head and leaned forward, allowing Dean to meet him in the middle. Dean carefully placed his lips on Cas’s. This time, the kiss was chaste, but Dean immediately relaxed into Cas’s arms, his lips parting slightly. 

You're a beautiful man, Dean.” Cas whispered, amused at how Dean's breathing hitched. 

Cas grinned; he had a feeling Dean needed to be praised other than just on the farm.

“Let's go home, Dean.” Cas whispered.  

Dean nodded and the two men stood up together. Cas had his arms around Dean as they made their way outside. Untying Baby and Hannah, Dean climbed onto Baby first, and then Cas hopped on to sit behind Dean, offering Dean to lean against him as they rode. They kept Hannah close by and trekked their way back home.

Along the way Cas kept his arms tightly around Dean's stomach, and felt relief as Dean leaned against him. 

Once home, Dean steered Baby back into the barn. When Cas stepped off onto the harsh ground, he winced. Looking down he realized he had been barefoot the whole time and his feet were now scraped up, bleeding. 

Dean noticed too, and he quickly picked Cas up, bridal style. 

“Dean!” Cas yelped, taken by surprise by the position he was suddenly in. 

“Cas, your feet are bleeding.” Dean said “I can carry you.”

Cas blushed brightly as Dean carried him into the house and huffed when Dean refused to put him down until he was in the master bathroom. 

Cas was now sitting on the toilet seat lid, his bloody feet resting in front of him as Dean turned on the bath. Castiel couldn't help but watch in awe how efficient Dean was at making sure Cas was taken care of. 

Dean had already had the tub filling up, and he had grabbed a wash bin from the closet and began filling it with hot water. Placing a towel under Cas’s feet, Dean kneeled in front of Cas. 

Looking up briefly, Dean's eyes were bright and when Cas leaned forward slightly, Dean met him in the middle, their lips meeting in a soft kiss.

“Let me take care of you, this time.” Dean whispered. Cas nodded, feeling his face warm. 

Dean then methodically washed Cas’s feet, one at a time in the wash bin. After he cleaned his feet, he opened up the first aid kit he had grabbed and took some disinfectant wipes to thoroughly clean the cuts. 

“I’ll bandage them after our bath.” 

Cas smirked, his eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, our bath?”

Dean blushed looking away. “I mean…if you want to bathe alone , Cas, you can.” Dean said, his tone teasing. 

Cas rolled his eyes. 

“No thank you, I…” he paused, looking intently at Dean. “I want you…”

Dean’s face couldn't possibly get any redder, he thought, as Cas's eyes stared at him full of adoration. 

Dean’s throat went dry and he quickly looked at the tub, noting it was almost full. Standing up, Dean pulled up Cas with him. 

He hesitated, his hands hovering on the hem of Cas's shirt. 

Cas licked his lips, nodding and Dean swiftly pulled Cas’s shirt over his head. He then moved his hands to Cas’s trousers, and pulled them down, his breathing growing faster as he did so. Before he could remove Cas’s boxers, the man pulled Dean back up to him, his hands fiddling with the hem of Dean's t-shirt. Dean raised his arms, allowing Cas to pull his shirt off. Goosebumps raised on his skin as Cas brought his hands down along Dean’s arms, towards his waist. 

Cas swiftly pulled Dean's jeans down, tossing the clothes into the jumbled pile of their clothes. 

The two men stood there for a moment, breathing in each other’s breath. Dean could feel the warmth from Cas’s body against his, and he leaned forward to whisper his lips against Cas’s. 

Cas’s breathing hitched and he leaned forward, capturing Dean’s lips with his own.

Dean let Cas lead the kiss, his lips parting as he felt Cas’s tongue flicker out. Cas deepened the kiss, nipping slightly at Dean’s bottom lip. Dean moaned against him, his hands coming to rest on Cas's hips as Cas gripped Dean's neck. 

Panting, Cas broke apart, his lips red. With a smirk, Cas was the first to step out of his boxers and he got into the tub quickly, winking at Dean. Dean huffed, his legs feeling wobbly. He shyly removed his briefs and then stepped into the tub. Cas moved Dean so he would sit in front of Cas, his back against Cas’s chest. 

Dean's heartbeat increased as he felt Cas against him, and when Cas gently pushed Dean’s head to rest against his shoulders, he was able to glance up into Cas’s eyes. His breath quickened as he watched Cas’s pupils dilate, his face flushed red. 

Cas lathered soap in his hand, and picked up a washcloth and slowly began to wash Dean, starting at his shoulders and moving down his chest. When he rinsed the suds away,, he gathered some shampoo and massaged Dean’s head, keeping his head titled back. Dean reveled in his touch, his eyes closing as Cas washed his hair. 

After Cas had rinsed Dean, he gently maneuvered Dean around so the man was in his lap. Water spilled over the ledge but neither man cared. Dean felt his cock twitch as it brushed against Cas’s. 

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, chest to chest and captured Dean’s lips once again in a kiss. Dean’s hands roamed Ca’s back as they kissed and when they broke apart, Dean was breathing heavily. 

“Let me wash you now.” Dean whispered, his voice hoarse. 

Cas nodded, and let Dean slip off his lap just enough so Dean could lather soap along Cas’s chest. He repeated what Cas had done to him, bringing a washcloth along his shoulders before gently moving down. When he began washing Cas’s hair, he was careful the soap didn't drip down Cas’s face and once he rinsed all the soap out, he chastely kissed Cas's lips. 

“I want you, Cas.” Dean murmured, his breath tickling Cas's skin.

Cas shivered against him, and quickly opened the drain of the tub, 

Cas climbed out first. He wrapped a towel around himself and then held out a hand to Dean. Dean blushed but stood up, taking the towel Cas had in his other hand and wrapped it around himself. Cas then took Dean’s hand and led him to his bed.

Dean quickly remembered to grab the first kit on the way and when they got to Cas’s bedroom, he gently guided Cas to sit on the edge of his bed. 

Dean kneeled in front of Cas, and methodically dried Cas’s feet, careful around the scraps, before wrapping his feet in the bandages. Cas leaned back against his hand, watching Dean intently. When Dean finished, he looked up, his face reddening under Cas’s intense gaze. 

Cas leaned forward, his eyes darkening. He cupped Dean’s face with his hand, moving his other hand to rest atop Dean’s shoulder. He grazed his lips against Dean’s, feeling Dean’s breathing hitching. 

When their lips met, Cas felt a rush of arousal soar through him. Dean’s arms immediately wrapped around his chest. 

The kissing turned frantic, tongues dancing together as Cas moved his arms down Dean’s back. Dean moaned against him, pressing himself closer against Cas. Cas took charge, making Dean smile against his lips as Cas kissed along Dean’s face, moving down to his jaw, down to Dean’s neck. He licked and nipped as he moved, pleased with the sounds coming from Dean. 

“Cas–” Dean groaned as Cas kissed and sucked at the base of Dean’s neck. Cas smiled as he moved to kiss along Dean’s shoulders, feeling Dean shiver against him. 

When Cas broke apart, he leaned back onto the bed, much to the chagrin of Dean, who tried to capture his lips. 

Cas moved backwards, up towards the headboard, beckoning Dean to follow him. As Cas against the pillows, he removed his towel and opened his legs for Dean. Dean’s eyes roamed Cas;s naked body, his face heating intensely as he saw Cas’s hard cock. Licking his lips, Dean tried to lean forward, but Cas stopped him, pressing a finger to Dean’s parted lips. 

Patience, Dean.” Cas said, his voice hoarse. 

Dean huffed, but then pursed his lips against Cas’s finger, kissing lightly. Cas moved to grip Dean;s shoulders, making him sit directly in front of Dean, opening up the other man’s legs. He draped his legs over Dean’s, wrapping around Dean’s waist, their knees brushing as his hands hovered over Dean's towel. 

Looking up at Dean, Cas titled his head, silently asking Dean if he could remove his towel. Dean looked at Cas, his eyes glistening and he nodded, his breath hitching as Cas removed the towel.

Dean felt exposed, slightly hunching forward as he watched Cas’s eyes roamed over his body. 

“Dean?” Cas whispered, looking at Dean intently, his face soft. 

Dean looked into Cas’s eyes and felt an almost overwhelming sense of trust. He smiled softly and nodded, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Cas’s lips. 

Cas kissed him back and then he brought Dean closer, their cocks almost brushing against each other. Dean was breathing harshly now, his lips grazing against Cas’s. Cas’s hand hovered over Dean's aching cock and when he gripped him, Dean gasped, his lips grazing Cas’s as he bucked his hips. 

Cas began to stroke him, slowly at first and then Cas reached over with his other hand to grasp Dean's hand, placing it on his own aching cock. 

Dean gasped, feeling cas shiver against his touch. He bucked his hips into Cas’s hand and tried to match his pace, stroking cas in tandem. 

Cas moaned, his own hips bucking up as he lazily kissed Dean's face. 

They were in sync quickly, rocking into each other's hands, their lips trailing along each other's faces and necks. 

Dean’s body started shaking, his breaths growing more and more ragged. 

“Cas—“ He moaned. “I’m gonna—

“Come for me, Dean.” Cas whispered, and Dean came, his body shaking as his orgasm shook through him. Cas followed, his orgasm taking him by surprise. He slumped forever, rocking against Dean as his orgasm sent pleasure through his veins. Dean slowly stroked Cas’s back, holding him against himself as he tried catching his breath. 

When Cas’s mind cleared, he leaned back, and cupping Dean’s jaw, he brought Dean’s lips to his, slowly kissing him. He fell back, bringing Dean to lie on top of him. 

As Dean grew more tired, he fell alongside Cas, curling up against him as Cas placed lazy kisses along his face and neck. 

Soon, Dean was asleep and Cas quickly cleaned the mess between them before pulling a quilt over them, nestling against Dean and soon sleep took over him too. 

Chapter Text

“You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless.” 

The next day, Dean forced Cas to look throughout his room, making sure he hadn’t hidden anything else. Cas refused at first, trusting Dean, but Dean wanted to see him check, wanted him to know with absolute certainty he wasn't hiding anything. 

Their overall dynamic didn't change; they continued to do their chores, separately, but everytime they saw each other, glances were made, and when they were in the same room, kisses were given, hands held tightly, but they would break apart without going any further. 

But as the sun began to set that night, neither man could wait any longer. After cleaning up dinner, Cas cornered Dean against the counter, capturing his lips in a kiss, allowing Dean to deepen it. They explored each other’s mouths, their bodies flushed against each other’s when Cas slid a hand down Dean’s chest to his waist. When he grazed Dean’s growing erection, Cas let out a gasp, breaking their lips apart. Dean was panting, his brows furrowed when Cas grabbed his hand and dragged Dean to his bedroom. 

He needed to feel Dean, and Dean responded eagerly. He was the first to unbutton Cas’s shirt, running his hands along Cas’s chest as he kissed him. Cas writhed under Dean’s hands, his own hands gripping Dean’s hips. 

In between taking off each other’s clothes, they kissed passionately, tasting each other. Cas blinding tore off Dean’s shirt, moving his lips from Dean’s jaw, down his neck, to his chest. As he moved back up to capture Dean’s lips again, he palmed Dean’s erection through his jeans. With a wicked grin, Cas pushed Dean onto his bed, his hands reaching to the zipper of his jeans. With a quick glance up at Dean, who breathlessly nodded, Cas pulled off his pants, his briefs following quickly. Dean shivered slightly Cas eyed his naked body hungrily. 

Cas leaned forward, placing open mouth kissing along Dean’s stomach, moving down, nipping and licking as he got closer to Dean’s aching cock. Dean bucked his hips, but Cas’s hands held him in place as he moved his mouth past Dean’s cock, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin of Dean’s inner thighs. 

“Casss.” Dean moaned as Cas hooked Dean’s legs over his shoulders. He peered down, his face flushed pink with sweat as Cas looked up at him. With his eyes still on Dean, Cas stuck out his tongue and licked teasingly at Dean’s hole.

Dean gasped, his legs shaking as Cas began fucking him with his tongue, unintelligible moans escaping from Dean as Cas ate him out. Dean gripped Cas’s hair tighter, his cock leaking all over his stomach. 

“Cas–” Dean stammered, feeling a rush of arousal. “I’m not–I’m not gonna last—”  He let out a breath as Cas removed his tongue, licking and nipping his way back up to Dean. 

Cas titled Dean’s head up, and kissed at the base of his jaw, as he reached over to grab the lube. 

“Too–too many clothes—” Dean stuttered as he tried to pull off Cas’s pants. Cas let out a breathy laugh, and leaned back enough to shimmy out of the rest of his clothes. Kneeling back on the bed, he moved Dean’s legs apart. 

Dean’s eyes widened at the sight of Cas’s cock between his legs. Licking his lips, Dean sat up and leaned forward, licking up  some of the precome from Cas’s cock. Cas let out a guttural groan, gripping Dean’s hair as Dean sucked at the tip. 

“Dean—I want—” Cas moaned as Dean’s grip tighented around Cas’s waist. 

“What do you want?” Dean whispered, looking up at Cas. Cas’s breath left him at the sight of Dean’s swollen lips. 

“I want…to make love to you.” Cas whispered, catching Dean’s lips with his own. Dean moaned, falling back onto his back, opening his legs wider for Cas. 

Cas reached a lube coated finger between Dean’s legs, slowly rubbing around his entrance. Slowly, he inserted his finger as he looked at Dean. Dean gasped, bucking his lips when Cas’s finger grazed his prostate. They kissed lazily, their gasps mingling as Cas inserted another finger. He moved slowly, making sure Dean was used to the stretch before inserted a third, and when Dean was breathing heavily, his lips parted against Cas’s cheek, Cas removed his fingers. He moved his cock to Dean’s entrance, and with an affirming nod from Dean, Cas slowly entered Dean.

“Oh, oh Dean–” Cas gasped. 

Dean was gasping, gripping Cas so tightly, there would definitely be bruises tomorrow. 

“Cas–Cas, move, please, I need–” He whimpered as Cas rocked his hips, and as Cas picked up the pace, Dean arched his back. 

“Oh, fuck, yes–Cas—” Dean moaned, hooking his legs around Cas’s ass, bringing him in deeper. 

Cas moaned as he felt electricity shoot through him.

“Dean–oh, Dean-” Cas gasped. “Oh, you're so beautiful, Dean.” He whispered, his body shaking as he felt his orgasm build and build. 

Dean gasped, and suddenly he was coming, his muscles tightening around Cas’s cock. He rocked against Cas as his orgasm ripped through him, and let out a ragged gasp as Cas came, his come filling him. 

Dean fell limp as his orgasm faded, Cas falling against him as he did the same.

The two men laid there, the post-coital haze heavy as they tried catching their breath. 

Cas was the first to garner any strength; he gently removed himself from Dean, and picking a cloth by his bedside, he delicately cleaned Dean and himself up. Kissing along Dean’s face, he whispered, his lips sending tingles throughout Dean’s body.

“I love you,” He brushed some sweat from Dean’s brow. 

Dean hummed, and turning his head just enough, he weakly captured Cas’s lips with his own. 

“I love you too.”

* * *

The next morning, the two men stayed in bed for a lazy day. Cas was propped up against the headboard, coffee and the newspaper in hand as Dean was tracing finger along Cas’s heart when he blurted out:

“I want to turn it into a garden.” Cas shifted, looking down at Dean.

“My dad’s house,” Dean clarified. “Demolish it–it’s rotting anyway and I don't know…turn the land into a community garden or park or whatever.”

Cas tightened his grip around Dean. 

“That sounds like a beautiful idea.” 

—----------------------------

It was a warm early morning and Dean was in the barn, doing his chores when he heard footsteps approaching. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Cas walking towards him, and Dean’s face reddened when he saw that Cas was only wearing his robe and some boots.

“Cas?” Dean said, as the man walked into the barn. He bit his lip as Cas embraced him, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Wrapping his arms around Cas, Dean realized he had nothing underneath his robe. 

“Come back to bed, Dean.” Cas moaned as Dean slipped his hands in the robe, gripping Cas’s bare ass. 

“Mmmm, to bed huh?” Dean smirked, falling to his knees. Cas’s breathing hitched and his legs shook as Dean caressed his back and thighs before squeezing his ass. Dean nuzzled his face against Cas’s crotch, emitting a moan from the man. 

Cas gripped Dean’s hair as he parted the robe, revealing his cock. Dean was gripping Cas’s waist as he looked up, parting his lips. Cas slowly pressed the head of his cock around Dean’s lips, gasping as Dean tentatively licked the tip. 

Dean kept his eyes on Cas as he swallowed around his cock, his tongue swirling around his length. Cas moaned, his hips bucking forward as Dean sucked and licked, bobbing his head as he brought his lips back to the tip of Cas’s cock. He could feel Cas shaking against him, his breathing growing more and more labored as Dean swallowed back around him. 

“Dean–” Cas groaned, his hands gripping Dean’s hair. “You’re—you’re such a good boy, Dean–” He moaned, a slight smirk on his lips as Dean groaned around his cock. Looking down, Cas could see Dean was palming his crotch. “So good–” He gasped as Dean sucked greedily around the head of his cock. 

“Dean, I’m going to–” Cas gasped as Dean swallowed back down his length, and then he was coming down Dean’s throat, his hips rocking forward as he rode through his orgasm. 

Dean licked the come off of Cas’s cock as he removed his mouth, his lips swollen red, his face flushed with sweat. Gasping for breath, Dean gripped Cas’s hips, and Cas’s legs gave way as Dean helped him to the ground. Cas was breathing heavily as Dean kissed lazily along his chest before settling down against him, tangling his jean clad legs with Cas’s bare legs. Cas moved a hand to tuck into Dean’s jeans, but then he felt something wet. Shifting back slightly to look at Dean, his lips twitched up in a smirk.

“You came, didn't you? Just from sucking me off?”

Dean blushed, biting his lip. Nodding, he nuzzled against Cas’s neck, kissing and nipped at the skin. “I–I liked it when–” he paused, keeping his face hidden. 

Cas hummed, gently caressing Dean’s cheek to see his face. When their eyes met, Dean’s blush deepend. 

“You liked it when I what?” Cas asked, his expression softening. 

Dean let out a small laugh, and then whispered. 

“When you called me ‘good boy’.” 

Cas smile grew, his eyes crinkling. 

“I knew you would.”

Dean let out a fake offended laugh and then nuzzled back against Cas’s neck. 

“You planned all that, didn't you?” Dean whispered, giggling. He propped himself on his elbow, his other hand lazily stroking Cas’s bare chest. 

Cas arched an eyebrow, looking up at Dean. 

“Mmmm, maybe.” he said, mischievously. 

Dean rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss the corner Cas’s smile. 

“You’re—you’re–”

“I'm all yours.” Cas whispered, and he looked up at Dean. He lazily traced his finger along Dean’s parted lips, following the  indistinguishable pattern of his freckles. 

Dean was looking down at Cas, his eyes full of love, and it made Cas’s heart tighten. Leaning up, Cas captured Dean’s lips with his own. He was never going to get tired kissing Dean.  

Chapter Text

“You can feel it on the way home, 

You can see it with the lights out, 

You are in love, 

True love.”

The following weeks were full of changes. 

They had spent part of the week cleaning out John’s cabin.

“Most of this, we could probably just donate it.” Dean said as he started putting random things in boxes. 

“Are you sure there's nothing here you want to keep?” 

Dean shook his head. He already had the few family photos they had, and his parents' wedding rings, he didn't need anything else. 

The two men quietly got to work, Cas trying to keep the boxes organized while Dean just tossed things in. About an hour in, Cas let out a soft laugh, getting Dean’s attention from the other side of the room. Tucked underneath the old mattress that was once Dean’s bed, Cas pulled out a worn paperback book. 

Dean flushed as Cas held up the book. A half naked man with long hair was on the cover, holding a blushing woman in a long pink gown. 

“Wha–no…” Dean spluttered as Cas smirked at him. His shoulders stiffened but then he rolled his eyes. “Okay, so what if it was?” 

Cas let out a laugh, pocketing the book. 

They finished going through the house, and by the time the sun was setting, the entire cabin was cleaned out, with one box of keepsakes, and countless boxes of donations loaded onto the wagon. Cas hired some men from town to help tear it down. Dean didn't want to be there, so Cas stayed with him, keeping him distracted. 

Once the foundation was removed, Dean and Cas headed back to the property equipped with everything they needed to start the garden. 

It took some time, and Dean had a hard time some days, grieving for everything the house had been, and what it turned into. 

—----------------------

Cas was heading into town, his wagon full when Dean approached him. Wordlessly, he hopped into the wagon, and Cas smiled to himself when Dean interlocked their fingers as he steered Hannah to the road.

Dean could instantly feel people staring as he and Cas parked the wagon in front of the grocery store. Cas gently kissed his hand before letting go, hopping down off the wagon to unload his supply. Dean followed, hearing whispers following him and Cas.

“I wanted to head to the farmer’s market too,” Cas said after they finished selling their supply. “You can come with me, or?

Dean smiled, leaning down to kiss Cas's cheek. “I wanna come.” he said, smiling at how pink Cas’s cheeks turned. 

As they walked through the market, their hands clasped together, eyes and whispers followed them but Dean grew more relaxed as Cas stayed close, their interlocked hands keeping him grounded. 

They had a pleasant lunch, Bobby giving Cas the typical threat if he ever hurt Dean. As they walked back down to the bar however, a crowd had formed and Ketch and a few others Dean had previously fought with were glaring at him.

Ellen’s daughter, Jo, was behind the bar, looking ready to stop if any fight broke out. 

“So, Winchester…you've corrupted someone yourself now…”

“Fuck off, Ketch.” Dean muttered 

Dean could smell the whiskey in Ketch’s breath. 

When Ketch swung his fist, Dean had stepped out of the way but his hand in Cas’s slipped and a scuffle broke out, separating them. The crowd grew louder, and the Ketch grabbed Dean by the lapels of his shirt. 

“Oi, outta of my bar, all of you!” Jo had shouted, pointing to Ketch and his buddies. 

“You're just like your father,” Ketch spat, “You corrupt anything you touch, it won't be a surprise when Novak ends up just like your mother–”

A fist cracked against Ketch’s face, a spray of blood erupting from his nose as he fell to the ground. Cas was panting, cradling his fist as he grabbed Dean. Dean’s eyes went wide, his face flushed as he allowed Cas to pull him out of the bar. 

Most of the crowd had dispersed, most were shouting or muttering but Dean realized they were directing their insults to Ketch . 

“Cas–” 

“Dean, what he said is not true…” Cas said as he cupped Dean’s face with his uninjured hand.

Dean was breathing fast, his heart erratic as he eyed Cas. The man before him was flushed red, panting, his injured hand bruised and bleeding. 

“I–” Dean started, “I know it's not true.” 

Cas looked at him, his face relaxing. “Oh, okay, then you’re–you’re okay?” He was still worried but when Dean smiled at him, his eyes narrowed. 

“Dean?” 

“That was fucking hot, Cas.” Dean stammered breathless, licking his lips.

“You're–oh my god Dean…” Cas rolled his eyes, cracking a smile. 

“What?” Dean bit his lip, his eyes darkening with arousal. 

“I–I cannot believe you right now.” Cas huffed laughing as Dean pushed him into the wagon.

“You like me.”

“I do?” Cas teased as Dean climbed up behind him. Dean crowded against Cas, taking his injured hand in his. He softly kissed along the scraps, his eyes trained on Cas’s. Cas’s breathing hitched as Dean kissed along his cheek, moving slowly around his face, avoiding his lips. 

“Dean–” Cas gasped as Dean kissed below his ear, moving his hand to cup Cas’s face. 

“Lets get home Dean.” Cas said, his voice rough. 

Dean nodded, grabbing the reins. 

By the time they got home, Cas was so aroused he could barely stand, his aching cock throbbing against his pants. Dean steered the wagon alongside the barn, and untied Hannah, leading her back into the stable. 

Before Cas could regain his footing as he stepped off the wagon, Dean was behind him. With a quick kiss, Dean picked him Cas, emitting a yelp from the farmer as he was thrown over Dean’s shoulder. 

“De-Dean!” He gasped as Dean carried him towards the house. 

As soon as they were in their bedroom, Dean dropped Cas onto the bed before crawling over him, capturing his lips into a deep kiss. Cas laughed against him, rocking his body up as Dean kissed him hungrily. 

Cas let Dean take control, something he never had trusted anyone with before. His breathing hitched as Dean leaned back just enough to unbutton Cas’s shirt, and he kissed along Cas’s chest as he moved down. With a shy smile, Dean pulled off Cas’s pants and boxers completely before removing his clothes and climbing back up to straddle Cas’s hips. Their naked cocks brushed and both men moaned, Dean rocking his hips against Cas. Dean reached over to grab the lube from the nightstand and then after he coated Cas’s hand, he guided his hand to between his legs, right over his hole.

Dean sucked and nipped along Cas’s neck, as Cas prepared him, slowly inserting a finger into Dean. Dean rocked against Cas’s hand, his breath hot gainst Cas’s skin. 

“I’m ready, Cas.” Dean gasped, breathlessly. 

“You–you're sure?” Cas’s voice was hoarse. 

Dean nodded and sat up, his thighs tightening around Cas’s hips as he hovered over Cas’s aching cock. Dean had one hand on Cas’s chest and the other wrapped around Cas’s cock.  Wiith Cas’s hands gripping Dean’s waist firmly, he slowly lowered himself onto Cas’s cock.

HIs head fell back as he rocked his hips, feeling Cas’s cock inside of him.

Cas’s body glistened with sweat, his chest quivering as Dean fully seated himself on him.

“Dean–” Cas moaned. 

Dean rolled his hips, his lips parted as he felt pleasure erupt inside him as Cas’s cock brushed against his prostate. He increased the speed, riding Cas as their moans vibrated throughout their bodies. 

Cas sat up, planting his feet on the bed, bringing Dean closer. Dean gasped as Cas bucked his hips up into him, gripping Dean’s back to bring him even closer. Dean’s arms tightened around Cas’s back as he continued to roll his hips. 

Their lips met, their breaths mixing as their orgasms built. 

Cas moved his lips along Dean’s cheek, kissing and nipping as he whispered. 

“You're so good, Dean, such a good boy…” 

Dean gasped, his body shaking. 

“You're so beautiful, Dean.”

Dean’s head fell back, his back arching as he came, his come spurting onto their chests. He shook against Cas as his orgasm shot through him.

Cas gasped at the sight, his own orgasm shaking through him as he held tightly onto Dean.

Gasping for air, Dean stroked some sweat from Cas’s forehead before kissing him gently. 

“That–” He gulped, his voice hoarse. “That was amazing.” He huffed, trying to catch his breath. Cas let out a breathless laugh, gently kissing along Dean’s cheek. 

“You're amazing, Dean.” he whispered as he brushed their noses together. 

Dean smiled shyly, his face pink. Gently, he removed himself from Cas’s lap, and grabbed a damp cloth from the bathroom before rejoining Cas in their bed.

Cas watched adoringly Dean cleaned themselves up, before curling himself aginsat Cas’s chest. 

“I love you, Cas.” Dean whispered. 

“I love you too, Dean.” Cas murmured, kissing the top of Dean’s head as sleep took over them. 

—----------------------------

By the time June came and gone, the land was flourishing. They had planted a variety of flowers (irises, oregon sunflowers, and yarrow), and diverse plants (evergreen groundcover, blue eyed grass, goldenrod)  that had been harvested from gardens donated by some of the townsfolk. Dean had paved a simple gravel path that wrapped around the garden, leading anyone passing through to walk past all the flowers, and a food garden that was free for everyone, and a couple of benches. Douglas fir and red cedar trees circled the garden, providing shade. 

Cas led Dean into the garden, guiding Dean with a hand on his lower back. 

“Okay, I’m going to remove the blindfold now.” Cas said, his hands resting gently on Dean’s shoulders. 

“Mmkay.”

The first thing Dean saw was a bench, nestled between some pink flowers. And then he saw the engraving. 

In Loving Memory of Mary and John Winchester 

Dean let out a small gasp, his eyes stinging. 

“It's beautiful, Cas.”

—---------------------------------

It was a regular Thursday morning and Dean was sitting on the porch swing, Cas by his side. Their hands were interlocked, their bodies pressed closely together. Cas had a book in his other hand while he mindlessly stroked Dean’s hand with the other. 

Dean’s heart fluttered as he glanced over at Cas. 

“What are you thinking about, Dean?” Cas asked, softly.

Dean flushed, looking back out at their farm. 

“Just…savoring all this…” He paused, resting his head against Cas’s shoulder. 

The two sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun rise over their farm. 

They had chores to get to, jam to make, honey to collect, but for a moment, they just sat there, hand in hand, both so deeply in love, and for now, that was all that mattered. 

💚 The End 🩵