Cerulean Blue

[vanimadin]

Title: Cerulean Blue

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: SO MUCH SEX.

Summary: Cas and Dean meet up in New York City for one of their weekends alone together, and it starts out perfectly: spending seemingly endless amounts of time together, expressing desperately missed affection, and of course, having sex. Then they go for a walk down by the pier and find… something. Something WEIRD. Something Dean should probably be HUNTING, except it’s not like any monster he’s seen before. Cas and Dean decide to take it back with them and try to salvage their week while the little beastie does it’s best to cause them nothing but trouble.

Notes:

Right, so more smut and fluff, but Cerulean Blue has a bit of a plot in it as well, so it’s got that going for it! :D;; (Who are we kidding, we all know you’re here for the smut. :P)

Interestingly, the one thing I obsess over is the travel times and how long it takes Cas to take the bus to all these different places, so I make a point of being relatively accurate with that because my OCD brain insists on it for some Goddamn reason. In this case, it takes roughly 16 hours and 25 minutes to drive from Tallahassee to NYC, so I added four hours for stops, transfers and layovers (since Cas IS taking the bus) which brings us to 20 hours and 25 minutes, give or take. Ta-daa!!

ALSO. Thank you so much to everyone who’s left comments/kudos on Horror High, Cheap Motel and Counting Scars in the last week, it’s really been helpful in cheering me up a bit and inspirational for working on writing the Horror High sequel. I’m glad SOME PEOPLE out there are enjoying this series! <33333

Also available on AO3, if you'd rather. <3

CERULEAN BLUE
By Senashenta

[31 Broadway Hotel, 38 West 31st Street, floor 4, room 12.]

For once they weren’t really meeting at a city in the middle. Usually, when they planned their meetups, Cas and Dean picked a town or city in-between Tallahassee, where Cas was currently living for school, and whatever city Dean happened to be in at the time. That seemed like the fair thing to do, all things considered. Sometimes one of them traveled a little father than the other, but never too much. Cas had seen half the country over the last four years of his relationship with Dean, he thought, not that it was a bad thing.

This time was different, though: Dean had been in New York City on a job, so they probably would have met up somewhere in North Carolina or Virginia, but Cas had expressed interest because he had never been to New York City, so Dean had suggested, if Cas didn’t mind being the one to do all the traveling this time around, that he simply stay put and Cas join him. He already had a hotel room and everything, he would just extend his stay.

Dean’s dad, who had been with him on the New York Hunt, had been unimpressed, but then he was always unimpressed when it came to his son and Cas. This time he had only pitched a minor fit, though, before tossing his things in the Impala and taking off for the next town. Dean had counted himself lucky to get off so easy. Usually, it took at least an hour of yelling before his dad wound himself down.

Now he was puttering around his hotel room—large this time, with two beds because they had been accommodating both himself and his dad—taking down all the newspaper clippings and hand-scribbled notes pertaining to the job they’d just finished that were taped to the walls and tossing them in the trash. Not that Cas wouldn’t understand, of course, but he preferred not to subject the other man to it if it wasn’t necessary.

Once that was done, he ran a hand through his hair—and came up with dirt still caked against his scalp from the night before. Dean made a face and headed into the bathroom, showering quickly and washing off the grime. He was just stepping out when someone knocked on the door—and he grinned.

Toweling his hair enough that it wasn’t actively dripping, Dean then wrapped the same towel around his waist and hurried through to unlock the door and open it a crack. His grin widened when he saw Cas standing in the hallway, and he flung the door open with a laugh, “you made it!”

Cas looked at him, blue eyes skimming up and down the length of his body, and complained, “oh, come on, how is that even fair?”

Dean looked down at himself, still grinning, and shrugged, “you caught me at a bad time.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad time.” Cas commented, eyes still flitting over Dean’s body. Finally, he shook his head and pushed a hand against the older man’s chest, easing him back so he could step inside and close the door behind himself. Crossing over, he dropped down to sit on the edge of one of the beds with a huff, dropping his bag by his feet. “Twenty hours on a bus is exhausting.”

Dean made a soft sympathetic noise, even as he undid the towel from around his waist and started using it to finish drying off—including his hair, which was beginning to drip again. Cas watched him perhaps too closely. “New backpack?” Dean asked as he ruffled at his hair, then draped the towel around his shoulders and headed over to dig out a pair of boxers.

Cas blinked, then glanced down at the backpack by his feet. It definitely wasn’t his old one, didn’t have all the distinctive embroidered patches on it. “My old one finally died on me. I still have to transfer my patches over.”

“Yeah, it’s weird seeing you without the angel wings and stuff,” Dean agreed, pulling on a pair of boxers, finally, and rummaging for his jeans. “Sorry, you really did show up right when I was in the middle of getting ready. Hey, how’d you get here, anyway? This city’s a maze.”

“Taxi.” Cas shrugged, “I knew I’d never find the place on my own. Also, walking all the way from the bus station didn’t sound fun either and I have no idea how the subways here work. So.”

Though he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, Dean had at least managed to put some pants on, now, and tossed the towel in the general direction of the bathroom before moving over to sit next to Cas and leaning to kiss by his ear gently. “Hi, you.”

Cas smiled and turned his head to look at Dean properly, then ducked in for a real kiss. “Hi. Thanks for the show, I’d missed that.”

“Pfft. You just want me for my body.” Dean accused, grinning again.

It wasn’t as if they didn’t get time together when Dean was on the road; they talked almost every day, one way or another, and were even intimate—remotely, obviously—when Dean could get his dad and Sam out of the motel room for a while. Video call sex did the job, but just wasn’t the same as being together and touching each other in person. (Not that watching Cas touch himself and moan Dean’s name over the computer would ever get old, of course.)

Another brief kiss and Dean shifted back to really look at Cas. “You do look tired.” He decided, and set to work, manhandling his boyfriend out of his trench coat and then maneuvering him up onto the bed to lay down. Dean stretched out beside him and pulled Cas into his side. “You getting enough sleep?”

Cas hummed an absent little noise and slung an arm across Dean’s bare chest, fingers tracing against his skin gently. “I do okay.” He shrugged before admitting softly, “just… lately the nightmares have been bad again, so…”

“So, you really do need a few nights with me.” Dean finished for him, one hand rubbing against Cas’s side.

Because for some inexplicable reason, even after all this time, being around Dean still kept the nightmares at bay. Nightmares that Cas had been having for as long as he could remember, of another life, a horrible life, a frightening life, a violent and painful life—but also an astonishingly weird one, and one of hope and love and joy, at times.

“I took the week off.” Cas said after a moment’s pause. He shifted to look up at Dean. Today was Sunday and—“I don’t have to catch the bus back home until Friday morning. Is that okay?” Then he hesitated before adding, “I can always catch an earlier bus if it’s not.”

“It’s fine,” Dean assured him with a smile, his free hand coming up to stroke against Cas’s cheek gently. “Dad and I only just closed out this job, so I can afford to stay a couple extra days. Dad won’t be happy, but when is he ever?” When Cas returned his smile and then leaned his head back down, he added, “besides, I’m not gonna turn down the chance to spend a whole week with you, Cas… we haven’t had that much time together in a single stretch since high school.”

And that had been almost four years ago, wasn’t that a thought. It felt like longer—it felt like a lifetime.

Cas hummed softly, fingers still tracing against Dean’s chest. He ran one over the older man’s nipple just to feel it harden under his hand, then commented almost idly, “so you’ve got your work cut out for you this week, being my personal dreamcatcher and everything.”

Dean took a sharp breath in and licked his lips, then accused, “you tease.”

“Says the guy who answered the door wet and in a towel. And then proceeded to take that off to dry off and parade around naked, after over four months of not seeing each other.”

“I, uh… I see your point.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t jump you the second the door was closed.” Cas grumbled. He rubbed a finger over Dean’s puckered nipple again, just for emphasis, making Dean sigh out a soft pleased sound. After a moment, Cas added quietly, “it was too long, this time, Dean. Four months is too long. One hundred and thirty-one days is too long.”

“You counted the days?”

“I do every time.”

“Yeah, I… hate being away from you, too, Cas. You know I do. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Cas knew Dean and his dad had been in deep this time, Hunting something especially dark and terrible—something that had been hunting them back. Something so bad they had been forced to dump Sam off with Pastor Jim for the duration of the Hunt. And it had led them most of the way across the country before they had pinned it down in New York and finally dispatched it, very nearly at the cost of their own lives. It wasn’t as if Dean had been avoiding Cas; he had been doing his job, and his job was important.

They had still talked almost every day, on the phone or video chat, or even if it was just to send off a couple of quick texts, but four months was a long time for them to go without seeing each other in the flesh, so to speak—this was the longest they’d gone since the first time, three and a half years ago, right after Dean had left Jacksonville. They had gone seven months before seeing each other again, that time, and had promised never again.

The arm around Cas shifted, now, and Dean threaded his fingers into the other man’s hair, petting and stroking gently, soothing and apologetic. “Tell me about your dreams.” He said softly, “you said they’ve gotten bad, but how bad?”

Cas sighed and smoothed his hand up Dean’s chest so he could toy with his pendant almost absently. “I can’t even have a nap right now without dreaming horrible things. On the bus here I fell asleep and dreamt I was homeless, eking out a living from the trash… and then this kind girl took me home with her. We bonded; we had sex. Twice. And then the next morning she tied me to a chair and tortured me, then stabbed me to death. I could feel all of it.”

Dean grumbled softly at the sex part. Cas rolled his eyes with an amused smile.

“You can’t be jealous of a dream, Dean.”

“I can and I freaking will.” Dean grumped in response, but didn’t stop stroking through his hair, the touch warm and affectionate, “why is it that all your dreams have a touch of the brown acid, Cas?”

“How should I know?” Cas shrugged, “for that matter, how do I know what it feels like to have sex with a girl? I’ve never…” He blew out a frustrated breath and tugged at Dean’s pendant lightly. “Forget it, it’s just my messed-up mind making stuff up. I just need a couple nights of decent sleep and I’ll be back to normal. Right now, my brain is kind of fried.”

“You wanna have a nap now?” Dean asked.

“Can’t. I just got here, and I had a million cups of coffee on the trip from Tallahassee. I’m too wired.” Cas shook his head, then dipped to kiss against Dean’s chest gently. “Thanks, though.”

“You know what’s good for getting out energy and relaxing you, though?” Dean was grinning again; Cas could hear it. The older man shifted, pushing Cas onto his back and sinking down over him, leaning in for a kiss. “I’ll give you three guesses, but you’ll only need one.”

Cas laughed, legs apart now so Dean could settle between them and smiling up at his boyfriend in amusement. He hooked his legs loosely around Dean’s hips and met the offered kiss warmly, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. “You’re incorrigible,” He murmured against the older man’s lips a moment later.

“Guilty.” Came Dean’s agreement, already going for another kiss, “but you don’t seem too bothered by it.”

That was because Cas wasn’t bothered by it—not at all. He loved every part of Dean, every facet of his personality, and thought he always would. There was something special about Dean’s enthusiasm for everything in life—or almost everything. It was almost contagious, made the same enthusiasm swell up inside Cas as well.

There had been times when they had talked and he had been down, of course. Upset about his dad or Sam, or about the events of a Hunt. Angry. Depressed, even. But that was normal, right? Everyone got down sometimes.

And Cas was always there to talk him through it and out the other side, to bring him back around to the happiness he got from the little things, like diner burgers, cold beer and the motels that had Magic Fingers on their beds. Things like Cas himself, who was what sparked the most joy, more than anything else out there. More than anything else ever (except maybe his mom.) Things like…

Dean slid a hand up under Cas’s shirt, mapping along his side warmly as they continued to kiss, starting out with gentle little kisses and then sliding into a full-blown make-out session, hot and heavy and practically trying to devour one another while Dean pushed-and-pulled at Cas’s shirt until the younger man broke off—and pushed Dean back enough to strip it off and toss it away.

That was much better. Dean ducked back in to bite and kiss along Cas’s shoulder, then his collar bone, down to one nipple, where he paused to lick and suck for a moment, nipping at the perked nub and making Cas arch and gasp sharply. Dean smirked because turnabout was fair play.

Meanwhile, he eased his hands down and around to undo Cas’s pants, then hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged, leaning up to give Cas another kiss and murmur, “hips up. Lemme get these off you.”

Then he was back down, pulling Cas’s jeans off with a little cooperation from the younger man, who kicked them away with a laugh a moment later. Dean grinned and went for Cas’s boxers next, and they landed in a heap on the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Dean ran his hands up Cas’s legs and then ducked his head, intending to suck Cas’s cock into his mouth—but Cas stopped him with hands on his shoulders, a little shake of his head and a smile. “You, too.” He said simply, reaching down to tug at Dean’s jeans—the ones he had only just gotten into, ironically. He popped the button open and worked the zipper down, then pushed at the waistband and gave Dean an expectant look.

A soft, low chuckle and Dean shifted back and to the side, quickly shucking out of his jeans and boxers and dumping them off the side of the bed before returning to his previous position—only for Cas to stop him again, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging. “Dean.”

Dean huffed quietly, climbing up over him and leaning in for a kiss. “What is it, Cas? What do you want?”

Cas hesitated slightly before licking his lips and offering, “turn around, so I can too. At the same time, I mean. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Dean just blinked down at him. “I understand, yeah, I just wouldn’t have thought…”

Cas was trying very hard to ignore the fact that he was steadily turning redder and redder. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, just say so, okay?”

But Dean was quick to shake his head. He grinned. “I think it’ll work best if we lay on our sides, don’t you?”

This time it was Cas’s turn to blink. “I—yeah.” He agreed. “That sounds good.”

Dean continued grinning and shifted against him, rolling his hips so their erections rubbed together before easing away and onto his side next to Cas, pausing there as he waited for Cas to shuffle himself around as well.

This would be something… new. Not the blowjob aspect, of course, there had been a great many blowjobs over the years, but this position, doing it at the same time. It seemed a natural progression, but every time he and Cas tried something new, Cas got a little bit shy about it and Dean had to navigate the waters carefully for fear of turning him off. Now would be no different.

So, Dean went first, once they were settled, one hand coming to rest against Cas’s hip and leaning in to take the tip of the younger man’s cock into his mouth, sucking softly at first, gently, before slowly easing deeper, taking more of him in, sucking along the shaft with a low hum in the back of his throat that vibrated down Cas’s dick and made him gasp.

“God, Dean…!” Cas moaned quietly and pressed his forehead into Dean’s abdomen for just a moment—then eased back, licking his lips and took Dean’s cock into his mouth, sliding deep and beginning to suck, swallowing down the salty taste of precome with every movement of his tongue.

Dean pulled off his cock with a lewd slurping noise to laugh, “you know, some day the Big Man is gonna get tired of hearing you say his name like that and actually show up.”

Cas made a quiet whining sound, a token protest because not only had Dean stopped, but he didn’t even believe in God, so what was he even saying? When Dean just chuckled and licked at the head of his cock again before sucking him back into his mouth, though, Cas’s whine turned into a muffled moan and he rocked his hips just the slightest bit, silently urging Dean to go deeper.

It turned out that, actually, sucking dick while simultaneously getting yours sucked was a bit more difficult than either of them had originally anticipated. More so for Cas, though, who was more of a talker during sex than Dean was—he kept having to pull off and press his forehead by Dean’s stomach to mutter out strings of curses and oaths and generally whined nonsensical babble when things got to be too much for him.

Dean just found it amusing, and poured himself even more into the blowjob he was currently giving his boyfriend—bobbing his head, swirling his tongue, even scraping his teeth the slightest bit—he could worry about himself later, if it came down to that.

But Cas was nothing if not determined, despite the fact he kept having to take little breaks to swear against Dean’s abdomen and resist the urge to buck his hips. He gave as good as he got, sucking hotly up and down Dean’s cock, slurps and other lewd little noises as he eventually brought his hand up to cup Dean’s balls and knead.

Dean moaned around the dick in his mouth, brows drawing together slightly and starting to breathe hard through his nose. Every time Cas was going down on him and did that it got him off especially well. Now he wished he was within reach of the lube because if he could get his fingers inside the younger man? No contest. But definitely not without any lube.

So instead, he redoubled his efforts, sucking Cas off hot and heavy, sloppy and wet, humming in the back of his throat so the sound vibrated along Cas’s cock and sent the other man gasping into his stomach again, panting there, hips twitching as he tried not to thrust even deeper into Dean’s mouth.

Dean pulled off of Cas’s cock at the same time to cough out, “you can move if you want to, Cas…”

Cas closed his eyes and shook his head, hair mussing against Dean’s skin. “Don’t wanna choke you.”

“Oh, for—” Dean just dove back in at that point, sucking Cas in—and then pushing deeper, sucking in a breath and swallowing him down into the back of his throat, then swallowing around him rhythmically.

Cas lost it. His hips bucked twice, completely beyond his control, and he came hard with a breathless cry, half-muffled into Dean’s stomach. Then he just panted there while Dean continued sucking him dry before pulling off him with a soft wet sound, licking his lips and swallowing thickly.

“You cheat.” Cas accused; the words panted slightly.

Dean laughed. “Says the guy who’s literally got me by the balls right now.” And then, not unkindly, “get out of the way so I can finish myself off.”

But Cas made a stubborn sort of noise and just pushed Dean onto his back, then squirmed around, limbs a little wobbly still, until he was down settled between Dean’s legs—then went right back to work, sucking Dean off like he was being paid for it. And it was easier now, without the distraction of his boyfriend’s mouth on his cock, to focus on what he was doing, sucking and bobbing his head, nipping lightly here-and-there, then pulling Dean’s own trick and shoving deep, swallowing around him until Dean could do nothing else but arch and come hard with a loud moan, one hand down and tangled in Cas’s hair.

It had only taken a couple of minutes; he’d been pretty close already. Once he was finished, Cas pushed himself to sit up, swallowing down the slippery feeling of Dean’s come in his throat, and crawled up to settle next to him on the bed once more. Dean pulled him close and wrapped an arm around his waist. Cas tossed an arm over Dean’s ribs with a hum.

“Solid eight out of ten.” Dean said finally, smiling up the ceiling.

“You’re rating my blowjobs now?” Cas asked with a little quirk of his lips.

“No, I mean the position. Doing it at the same time.”

“Ah. I actually failed rather spectacularly at that, if you recall.”

“All I know is your mouth is fantastic and I came hard. Hence the eight out of ten.”

“Eight is decent.” Cas agreed finally. “So, we give it another try sometime?”

“Oh, definitely. It’s great feeling you try to hold it together while you’re getting your dick sucked like that.” Dean grinned, then added; “but next time not in my Dad’s bed. Because gross.”

Cas stopped at that, pulled his arm back a little and lifted his head to look between the bed they were on and the other one. “Why didn’t you say something earlier, Dean?”

All Dean could do was laugh.

–
–

They spent the rest of the day and that night mostly in the hotel room, with a couple of quick outings to a coffee stand around the corner. Since they had the time, they took down the rest of wall of newspaper clippings, articles and photographs that Dean’s dad had had put up for the Hunt they had just finished, tossing it all in the trash.

They stole the pillows from Dean’s dad’s bed and tossed them onto Dean’s—the one they would be sharing for the duration of their stay—to make things a little more comfortable (the pillows and linens in this hotel… weren’t great.)

They ordered pizza in for dinner. They watched an old black-and-white movie on the glitchy TV while they ate, and Dean pulled a beer from the mini fridge to accompany his meal. Cas just leaned into his side with a happy sigh, content with his cola and Dean’s company.

They made love that night, slow and languid and full of emotion before they finally reached completion together. Then they fell asleep, tangled up in each other’s arms, and just like magic Cas didn’t have a bad dream for the entire night.

When Cas woke up in the morning it was to an empty bed—and empty hotel room—but he wasn’t worried. Dean would come back, and he could take care of himself if something happened. So, Cas took the time to have a shower and brush his teeth, then got dressed in clean clothes that didn’t smell like twenty hours on a Greyhound bus; a fresh pair of jeans and a graphic tee that Charlie had picked out for him last time they had managed to get together. Cas actually knew who The Pixies were, miraculously, and Charlie said it looked good on him, so he just went with it.

Cas was just finishing toweling his hair dry for the second time and smoothing it out (mostly) when he heard the door to the motel room open, then close, followed by footsteps. He quickly hung his towel up and poked his head out the bathroom door, brightening when he saw Dean, back turned to him, working on locking the door behind himself.

Wandering through, Cas sat down on the edge of their bed. “Hey. You were out early.”

“Yeah, went for coffee.” When Dean turned around, he was holding a tray with two cups of coffee in one side, a half-folded paper bag balanced on the other side. He set everything on the kitchenette counter and motioned for Cas to come over. “C’mon, sleepyhead, breakfast time.”

“It’s only ten.” Cas protested, but stood and headed over anyway, “and I’ve been up for half an hour. That’s early for our weekends and you know it.” When he got over to Dean’s side, Dean leaned in for a quick kiss, then left Cas to inspect the contents of the paper bag—donuts of some kind. He didn’t quite recognize them.

“Cronuts.” Dean supplied as Cas pulled one out of the bag, “they’re a big thing, apparently.”

Cas shrugged and took a bite of the one in his hand, pausing to consider before smiling and offering, “mm, they’re good!”

Dean smiled back and handed him his coffee. “Three cream and two sugar.”

“Perfect.” Cas’s smile turned soft, and he took the cup gratefully. “Thank you.”

Meanwhile, Dean was opening up his own coffee (black, naturally) and plucking out a cronut of for himself. “So, how’d you sleep last night?” He asked around his first mouthful.

Cas sighed and leaned back against the counter, still munching on his own breakfast, sipping his coffee in-between. “I slept really well. I always do with you. No nightmares, nothing. Just… rest. I always feel rejuvenated when I can spend the night with you. It’s only been one night, and I already feel almost back to normal.”

“You ever think you might be an energy vampire or something, Cas?” Dean chuckled, finishing off his cronut and going for another, taking a drink of his coffee. “Seriously, you know I’m happy to help, even if I don’t know how I’m doing it. So, I’m glad.”

Cas was quiet for a bit, and they ate in silence for a while before he finally spoke up again; “you remember last year, that fortune teller in Raleigh?” He paused again, pulling out a second cronut for himself and taking a bite, chewing and swallowing before continuing, “she said we were strongly connected. Asked if we believed in soul mates.”

Dean frowned slightly but shrugged with one shoulder. “So?”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Cas told him, looking at Dean with an almost unreadable expression. “But I think she might have been right. We’ve been connected right since day one, haven’t we?” A little, soft smile tugged at his lips, and he glanced down, “what if you being my dreamcatcher is because when we’re apart, our souls are split in half? And when we’re together like we are now, your soul and mine kind of… meld. And yours protects me.”

There was a long silence from Dean—long enough that Cas was absolutely sure he was about to get a Soul Mates Aren’t A Thing lecture—and Cas finally glanced up, intending to apologize for being stupid, just in time for Dean to drop a kiss against his forehead with a small smile. “Yeah,” He said warmly, surprising Cas a little, “I say we go with that.”

Cas smiled a bit more, then leaned into Dean’s side slightly and went back to finishing off his breakfast. When he was done his second cronut and still sipping at his coffee, he asked, “what time did you get up, anyway?”

“Early.” Dean peered into the paper bag as if considering a third cronut, but then decided against it and folded the bag over again to save the last two for later. He took a long drink of his coffee. “I’m just off a job, so my body is still trained to wake me up at the crack of dawn.” A smile. “I did stay in bed with you for a while before I left, though. You’re gorgeous while you sleep.”

“My hair is a mess, and I drool on my pillow sometimes.” Cas deadpanned.

“Adorable.” Dean chuckled.

Cas would have protested more, but instead conceded, “I like watching you sleep, too.”

“When you say it, it just sounds creepy.” Dean joked.

Cas reached with his spare hand and swatted him in the arm. “Don’t be a dick.”

The older man chortled to himself for a minute or two while Cas gave him a dirty look, then settled into his side once more. They were still leaning against the kitchen counter, but it was a nice moment between them, regardless. Cas enjoyed all the little moments like these. He had always enjoyed the little moments between them, right from day one, from when they had met. They were… pleasant. Almost domestic. Made him feel warm in his chest.

Now he lifted his coffee cup to inspect it curiously, but it didn’t have any markings, so he asked, “where did you go? This is really good coffee.”

“Little artisanal place a couple blocks away.” Dean smiled, “found it last week while we were still on the Hunt. I think I’d drive cross-country for their coffee alone. Dad’ll drink any old shit… I mean. So will I, I guess. You get used to crappy motel and diner coffee. But if I can get my hands on the good stuff I absolutely will.”

“I don’t blame you.” Cas laughed, “I was spoiled. Father always insists on keeping really good coffee in the house, so I kind of grew up on it, once I was old enough to start drinking it.”

“Yesssss I remember the coffee the mornings after our sleepovers.” The older man sighed deeply. “That was imported, had to be.”

“Straight from a tiny farming village in the deep forests of Brazil.” Cas confirmed, amused. “Can’t remember what it’s called, now… Brazil Mogiana, maybe?”

Dean chuckled and finished off his coffee, setting his cup down but not going anywhere, staying where he was, propped against the counter with Cas leaning into his side. He just watched as Cas continued sipping at his own coffee—he always took longer to drink his than Dean did his own. “So, what do you want to do today?”

Cas paused halfway to a drink. He blinked slightly. Then he looked up at Dean, an almost blank look on his face. Normally he would have suggestions, but this time? “I have no idea.”

–
–

New York had a whole laundry list of touristy things to keep them busy for the week but for once Cas hadn’t been on his phone looking them up while he’d been on the bus there. He had just slept for most of the trip, instead, bad dreams and all. So, after breakfast they sat together, using Dean’s beat-up laptop (the browser opened to Busty Asian Beauties dot com and Cas gave him a look; Dean at least had the decency to look sheepish) and did some searches for attractions around the city.

The first and most obvious one was Coney Island, and Cas had to admit that he’d never really been to a place like that before—somewhere with rides and games and vendors, the whole shebang. Dean said his dad had taken him and Sammy to one or two over their childhood, but just little, rural fairs, nothing like what Coney Island would be.

So, it was pretty quickly decided that that’s where they would be going that day. Even if they both ended up hating it, they could just go down to the beach and take a walk along the shoreline. That would be nice, too, Cas thought, though pictures showed the beach to be a pretty crowded place.

With that plan in mind, they lingered around the hotel room a little while longer and then grabbed their things and left. Cas of course wore his trench coat, even though it was warm enough to go without it; Dean teased him for it, but Cas would rather be safe than sorry. What if the weather changed? And it had large pockets, in case he wanted to buy anything. Besides, he could always take it off and carry it if it got to be too hot.

At some point Dean just stopped arguing and started to laugh, steering Cas down the hallway to the elevator with a hand at the small of his back.

They hailed a cab and got themselves dropped off at the entryway to Coney Island, and both of them were surprised to discover that there was no entry fee to the park itself, though if they wanted to go on any of the rides, they had to pay for those. So, they just walked in and began to stroll the boardwalk, Dean reaching for Cas’s had pretty much right away. Cas just made a little pleased noise and threaded their fingers together, squeezing gently.

The boardwalk was bustling with people, and while Cas had gotten more used to crowds after moving to Tallahassee for university, they did still bother him a little at times. Having Dean with him, holding his hand, helped a lot. He could focus on the feel of Dean’s fingers twined in with his own when everyone around them started pressing too tight.

They walked down rows of vendors, first, though neither of them found anything worthwhile for the most part. Cas took a few minutes at one particular stall, though, which was selling books of all kinds. He picked up and put down one book—“The Books of Enoch: The Angels, The Watchers and The Nephilim”—several times before Dean finally huffed and snatched it from him, then went and paid for it himself, returning a moment later to shove it into one of the pockets of Cas’s coat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Cas told Dean once they were back hand-in-hand, walking down the boardwalk again, “I could have bought it.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have.” Dean rolled his eyes with a grin.

Cas smiled softly. “Thank you, Dean.”

They continued their perusal of Coney Island, stopping for ice cream and funnel cake on the midway before they reached the portion of the park that held all the games. And that was when Dean really lit up—he insisted on trying almost all of them, and successfully won prizes at most. Then he turned around and gave them away to random little kids who were walking past with their parents with a charming smile and a laugh.

One tiny teddy bear, a consolation prize for a game that he didn’t win at, went into Cas’s other coat pocket, though.

That was before the slinky drama. They got to a ring-toss game and Dean spotted a giant rainbow slinky as one of the prizes, and then Cas was forced to watch him play that bloody game for over an hour until he finally won and got what he wanted out of it. The grin on Dean’s face was huge, though, and Cas couldn’t help chuckling, smile fond as they headed off.

“You know that slinky cost you about a hundred dollars, right?” Cas asked as they walked, no longer holding hands.

Dean was busy unwrapping the slinky and playing with it gleefully. “I don’t even care!” Then he glanced sideways at Cas, paused in what he was doing, and looped the slinky over his arm before reaching for Cas’s hand again. “What do you think, beach now?”

“Unless you want to do the rides?”

“Nah, I’m good on the rides front.”

“Yeah, me too.” Cas agreed, then smiled and added, “let’s check out the beach, then.”

At some point over the course of the afternoon the sun had disappeared behind the clouds and a bit of a chill breeze was now coming off the ocean. Cas was fine in his trench coat, and Dean in the flannel overshirt he wore almost perpetually, but most of the beachgoers were starting to pack up and leave. Neither Cas nor Dean minded that, it just meant more time and space for themselves.

So, for a while it was just the two of them and a handful of stragglers—until the rain started up. Light at first, then harder until it was pounding down and everyone else scattered for the safety of the boardwalk. Cas and Dean scrambled across the sand and ducked under the pier, pausing in the gloom to take stock and deciding they weren’t too wet, all things considered. Beyond the pier, the rain just continued to pour down.

“Well.” Dean flopped back into the sand, settling himself with a huff. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a while.”

Cas continued looking around them for another moment before sitting down next to his boyfriend and asking, “are you going to let this ruin our date?”

“No.” Dean grumped. He pulled the slinky off his arm and set it beside himself in the sand. “Yes. Maybe.”

Cas chuckled and shifted around, propping himself up on one hand and leaning over Dean, ducking down to kiss him. “Don’t be grumpy.”

Dean hummed quietly and when Cas moved away, he reached to pull him back down, “hey, no, c’mere. I’ll stop being grumpy.”

Laughing, Cas ducked down to kiss Dean again, smiling against his lips. “What are you trying to do, here?”

“Make out with you~?” There was a little lilt to the end of Dean’s sentence, and he angled for another kiss, reaching up to tug Cas down on top of himself. Cas’s balance teetered and he tipped over, landing on Dean’s chest with an ‘oof’. Dean grunted softly but just grinned at him. “Much better.”

Cas frowned down at him slightly. “We are out in public, Dean.”

“Look around, Cas,” Dean glanced left, then right, before looking back at Cas. “We’re literally the only ones here.” And then he reached up, tugging Cas down again and dragging him into another kiss, this time deep and long. “Mmh…”

Cas made a soft protesting sound but even that faded out quickly and he found himself sinking into Dean’s chest, kissing back heatedly. Dean tasted of powdered sugar, pastry and ice cream and on the older man’s tongue it was even more delicious. He wondered, briefly, vaguely, if he tasted the same.

A few long moments later and they were making out heavily—and Dean had a hand up Cas’s shirt, fingers dragging against his side. And, Cas thought, he really should put an end to all this before it went too far. But then Dean broke away and ducked in to suck along his throat and that idea went right out the window. Cas groaned and arched his neck against Dean’s mouth, one hand moving up to thread into Dean’s hair, tugging gently.

“Dean…” He managed after another minute, “what are we, ah… doing, here?”

Dean bit at the crook of his neck, making Cas groan again, then pulled him even closer and asked with a grin, “what do you think?”

Cas swallowed hard and gave a token protest: “here? Really?”

“Really.” Dean’s grin finally faded into a reassuring smile, and he added; “there’s no one here to see us. The rain is so loud no one will hear us. It’s dark, it’s cozy…”

“It’s got all the sand.” Cas pointed out.

That made Dean laugh. He tugged at the lapel of Cas’s trench coat. “Instant blanket. Also,” He dropped one hand to grope in his own pocket for a brief moment before producing a small tube of lubricant. Cas gave him a completely blank look, even as he returned the lube to his pocket. The grin came back full force. “Just in case.”

When Cas still hesitated, Dean wrapped his arms around him and rolled them over, so he was laying half-overtop the younger man instead of the other way around. He leaned in to rest their foreheads together gently. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, obviously. You know I’d never force you. We can just wait out the rain and go back to the hotel and make love there, if you want. I just thought this could be… different. Fun.”

Cas started out frowning up at him, but as Dean spoke that frown faded out, replaced by a sort of… considering expression.

Dean had a couple of good points. There was no one else under the pier or anywhere around it right then, and the rain was still pounding down, it would mute any noise they made. It wasn’t like they would be having sex in public, with a bunch of strangers watching them. And Cas liked to think of himself as open-minded, he just hadn’t considered exhibitionism before—if this even counted, and he wasn’t even sure it actually did.

Finally, he gave Dean a serious look and told him; “if I get sand anywhere uncomfortable, we’re not having sex for the rest of this week.”

“But next time we meet up we’re cool again, right?”

“Dean.”

“Alright, alright. It’s a deal.” Dean ducked in to kiss him—and Cas kissed back despite his initial reluctance. When they broke apart a moment later, Dean kissed by his jaw and added softly, “we can stop any time, Cas, if you get uncomfortable. Just say the word, same as always. Okay?”

That made Cas smile again and he nodded slightly. “Okay.”

It was a slower thing this time. They began with Cas taking his coat off and spreading it out for them to lay on—and then almost embarrassedly taking his shoes off, followed by his pants and boxers. He refused to take his shirt off, wanting to keep as much of his clothing on as possible, just in case. Then he laid back on the coat and licked his lips, gesturing with one hand for Dean to get started.

Dean was still fully clothed when he pulled the lube back out of his pocket, spread the slick over the fingers of his right hand, then quickly capped the tube and stuffed it back in his pocket again. Then he ducked down to push Cas’s shirt up a little, trailing messy kisses along his abdomen and easing the first finger into Cas’s body, slow and deep. When Cas just shifted his hips and sighed out a groan, Dean smiled against his skin and added the second, both fingers stretching and parting, rubbing heatedly against the other man’s sweet spot.

And while Cas hadn’t started out hard this time, he very quickly stiffened up when Dean started playing with his prostate, working up to three fingers quickly, fucking Cas on them hard and deep, until Cas was arching and writhing, head back and moaning loudly—but still barely audible over the pounding rain.

When Cas was broken down to pleadingly panting for Dean—that was when Dean tugged his fingers out, pulled his hand away, and quickly undid his jeans, pushing them down just enough to pull his throbbing cock out. Then he settled himself over Cas, between his legs, and carefully pushed into the younger man’s body, sinking in deep and fast, making Cas bite back a cry.

This wasn’t going to be making love by any means. This was going to be quick and dirty, and they both knew it. But that was okay sometimes, was good sometimes, especially in this sort of a situation. (And how had Cas let Dean talk him into this, again? Cas threw his head back and laughed breathlessly at the absurdity of it all, only for Dean to drag him into a kiss immediately afterward.)

Dean began moving, then, quick, sharp thrusts right against his prostate that made Cas’s head fall back again, forced him to muffle loud little cries every single time. And his own cock was half-under the edge of Dean’s shirt, rubbing against soft skin—and cotton that was soft in a different kind of way—and they had never had sex while mostly clothed before. It was new and novel and not terrible by any means, although Cas admittedly missed the feeling of Dean’s skin against his.

One arm came up and around Dean, hand grabbing at the back of his shirt, twisting in the fabric there, and the other arm got tossed up above his head—Cas almost startled when it landed in cool sand, fingers curling in the fine grains, digging lightly. That wasn’t a texture or feeling he had previously associated with sex, and it was surprisingly jarring—but before he could think too much about it, Dean was back to kissing him and he returned to just moaning, panted and loud, as the other man battered against his sweet spot.

Finally, Cas lifted one leg to hook around Dean’s hip, the opposite heel sliding almost uselessly in the sand, and threw his head back to gasp out, “Dean…! A-ah…! So close…!”

Dean grunted out an affirmative and slid one hand between them to shove their shirts out of the way and grasp at Cas’s aching cock, beginning to stroke along with his continued, hard thrusts. He was jostling Cas up and down on his coat on the sand, but Cas didn’t even care anymore, gasping and panting for air, his own hips jerking and twitching until he came with a loud shout—it echoed under the pier, but was still, thankfully, drowned out by the rain falling around them. Dean followed after him, coming just a few thrusts later with a low cry of his own, again, just as covered by the sounds of the storm.

Then Dean slumped down over Cas, giving a pleased but breathless-sounding sigh against the crook of his neck, pressing meandering kisses there in a trail up to his boyfriend’s ear where he paused to murmur, “…you’re the best. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Cas replied, chest still heaving slightly. When Dean eased back onto his knees and pulled out of him a moment later, he groaned and shifted with a grimace. “Sand everywhere.” He protested, though he had a little smile on his face the entire time. He watched Dean tuck himself back in and do up his pants and asked, “happy, now?”

“So happy.” Dean agreed.

“I’m glad, now shake the sand out of my clothes so I can put them back on.”

A laugh, but Dean did as he was told, and soon enough they were both dressed again, albeit with sticky cum smeared under their shirts and a suspicious stain on the inside of Cas’s trench coat. It would have to be dry cleaned to get that out. At least it was on the inside. As for the cum, Cas hummed to himself while Dean lounged back in the sand and leaned over to lift the other man’s shift up, ducking down to lick the smears away from his skin—as much as he could, anyway, considering it was already starting to soak into his tee. Dean hummed and returned the favor a minute later, and then they both settled back to wait out the storm, pleasantly relaxed and boneless in the sand.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dean asked after a long, comfortable silence.

“I never thought it would be bad.” Cas corrected him, smiling up at the underside of the pier, “sex with you is always good. I was just concerned about the setting, that’s all. And just so you know, I wasn’t kidding, I have sand everywhere.”

Dean chuckled. “Sorry.”

“You are not. But I don’t really mind as much as I thought I would.”

“So, I’m not cut off for the rest of the week after all? Even though you got sand everywhere?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Awesome.”

The storm raged on for another forty-five minutes or so and they just stayed where they were under the pier, talking sometimes but more often than not just existing together in silence, listening to the weather howl around them. Eventually, though, the wind died down and rain petered off into drizzle, and then nothing. The sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds again.

They continued to stay there until the sun was shining brightly once more and other people started coming back down to the beach—at which point they got up, gathered their things, and started to head out—

Until something caught Cas’s eye.

It was down at the end of the pier where it ran into the ocean, in the sand just beyond the reach of the waterline, shining iridescent purple. Cas, trench coat tucked under one arm, blinked, then squinted, and finally abandoned his boyfriend entirely and wandered over, leaving Dean to hurry after him.

Once they were both standing over the object in question, Cas looked at Dean for an explanation, only to get an exaggerated shrug in return: the thing was large, a little over a foot long and maybe half a foot wide, oblong and shimmery violet in color. It had clearly come out of the water—was loosely wrapped in seaweed. Dean, ever the resourceful Hunter, started looking around for a stick to poke it with.

Cas, on the other hand, crouched down next to it and reached with one hand to touch one finger against it gently. It had a hard shell, but that shell was covered in almost a gel coating, like a cushioning barrier. It wasn’t slick or slimy, just soft. When Dean looked over and Cas was touching it with his bare hand, he gave a startled noise and squawked out, “Cas, don’t touch it! Hunting rule number one is don’t touch the weird stuff!”

“I’m not a Hunter.” Cas pointed out, fascinated when something inside the object moved in response to his touch. He pressed his entire hand against it, watching the movement curiously before pulling back. “I think it’s an egg.”

“You think it’s an—great. Great. Just. Perfect.” Dean came back over and crouched down next to him to look at it properly. “We’re going to have to take this with us now, you know.”

Cas didn’t even look surprised. “Can’t leave it here in case it’s something dangerous.” He agreed, already spreading his trench coat out—and then carefully, oh so carefully, picking the egg up and placing it inside, wrapping it up securely. His coat would well and truly need to be professionally cleaned, now. Once it was wrapped, he picked it up and stood, then waited for Dean to do the same. “Okay, let’s go.”

They walked back up the beach to the boardwalk with Cas carrying the egg gently and Dean looking at him like he was holding a nuclear bomb. But there was something about the thing that made Cas feel at ease. He wasn’t the least bit worried about the egg or what was inside it, somehow. Maybe he just had screwed up survival instincts, or maybe Dean was naturally paranoid because of his job. Either way, they were having two very different reactions to the maybe-egg.

A not-so-quick taxi ride back to the hotel and they got into their room safely, at which point Cas set the bundle containing the egg on the second bed and stepped back, looking at the little parcel contemplatively.

Dean stepped up next to him. “Your book and teddy bear are wrapped up in there somewhere.” He reminded Cas blandly.

Cas chuckled—then stopped and looked sideways at Dean. “Where’s your slinky?”

Several emotions flitted across Dean’s face in quick succession before he scowled and muttered, “fuck!”—he’d forgotten it under the pier.

–
–

After a lot of discussion and going around in circles about it, they decided the best place to keep the egg—(it was probably definitely an egg)—was in the bathtub for the time being. So, Cas carefully unwrapped it and took it through to the bathroom to set it in the bottom of the bathtub gently. Whatever was inside it was still moving, so that was good. Or possibly very bad, he wasn’t sure which. And the egg’s color seemed to be changing as well, fading from dark purple to a lighter, brighter pink. What that meant, neither of them had any idea.

He turned the light off and closed the bathroom door when he left, returning to the main room where Dean was on the phone with someone named “Bobby”, whom he claimed was the one to call for this type of a situation. And Cas kind of had to ask… what type of a situation? A “random potential monster egg on the beach” type of situation? That seemed pretty specific.

So, while Dean made his call, Cas rescued his book and teddy bear from his now (temporarily) ruined trench coat and stuffed the coat in the bottom of his bag to get it out of the way. The book and bear got tossed on the second bed for the time being, Cas smiling a little when he looked down at them in his hands. Then he dug out his own cell phone and pulled up the Skip app, ordering them dinner to be delivered to the hotel since it was about that time. Dean was probably starving—all they’d had for lunch was ice cream and funnel cake and Cas knew the older man simply could not survive on that alone.

The food was just arriving about the time Dean was finished his call with Bobby. He dropped his phone on their bed with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair before announcing, “Bobby says we’re both idiots and he’ll be here in a day or so.” Which, admittedly, was a much better reaction than if he’d called his dad. “He’s driving from South Dakota, it’s like a… twenty-three hour drive? If he floors it? So…”

It sounded like they had the beginning of a plan, at least, and soon they would have help with the potential tactical nuke they had stashed in their bathroom. Cas nodded, then just waved Dean over to the kitchenette counter where he was unpacking their dinner. When Dean approached, he basically shoved a burger into the older man’s hands and said, “eat. You’ve got to be hungry by now.”

Dean looked down at the burger in his grasp, then back up at Cas—and gave a huge, relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

Cas smiled but continued unpacking the paper sack. Two more burgers—one for himself and another for Dean just in case—and two little containers of fries that actually looked really good. Cas had just picked the place randomly off the app, since he had no idea about the restaurants in the area, but so far, the food looked decent. His smile widened when he pulled out the two little pocket pies as well and held them up. “Not the same, I know, but…”

“You bought pie, too?” Dean asked around a too-big mouthful of burger, “jeez, Cas, you share your ice cream with me at Coney Island, you let me fuck you on the beach, you buy me pie… it’s like you’ve got a thing for me or something.”

“Maybe a little one.” Cas agreed with a laugh, unwrapping his own burger and starting to eat and—oh. Yeah. Actually, this place had really good burgers, too. He absently checked the receipt for the name of the joint—Black Iron Burger—even though he knew he would likely never be back to New York again. “Anyway, you paid for the ice cream and funnel cake. And you bought me a book and won me a teddy bear. So maybe you’re the one who’s got a thing for me, hm?”

“Technically I think I lost you that teddy bear. That… ping pong ball fishbowl game was impossible.” Dean pointed out with a chuckle, going for another bite of burger.

“Doesn’t matter, I still love it.” Cas was enjoying his meal as well, just not with as much enthusiasm as Dean, who finished off his first burger quickly and reached for the remaining one, pausing to give Cas a questioning look. Cas nodded him on, and he was quick to unwrap that one and start in on it, too. “I’m sorry you left your slinky behind.” He added between bites, almost an afterthought.

A scowl from the older man, but then he just heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Maybe you’ll find another one some day.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

–
–

With the Egg Of Potential Doom lurking in their bathroom, they couldn’t exactly leave the hotel room just in case something happened with it. If a maid came in and found it, despite them leaving the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Or, God forbid, it hatched and whatever was inside proceeded to run rampant over the entire hotel.

They sat around and discussed it, briefly, on multiple occasions, trying to figure out what it might be, and every time they came up blank. Dean just didn’t know of any monsters that laid eggs like that (any monsters big enough to lay eggs like that), and Cas didn’t know enough about the supernatural stuff to be of any real use, either.

In the meantime, they did have the room to themselves and the Do Not Disturb sign firmly on the door, so they made the most of it, enjoying each other’s company—and bodies—throughout the long hours that passed while they babysat the egg and waited for Bobby to show up.

Now, for example, Cas was on his back, stripped to his skin, moaning breathlessly while Dean not only worked him over with his fingers but also sucked him off, the sweetest kind of torture under the guise of getting him ready for Dean’s cock—which brought about the question as to why Dean was still completely dressed, actually, it seemed rather unfair given the circumstances.

Eventually Cas couldn’t take it anymore, and after a particularly good rub over his prostate he grabbed at Dean’s hair and pulled the other man off his cock, shivering at the slick, wet noise that followed and tugging him upward to drag him into a kiss. “Dean, take your clothes off and fuck me.” He panted against Dean’s lips, “please.”

Dean tended to listen when Cas swore like that, because Cas didn’t swear like that very often. He had been raised not to use words like “fuck” except under dire circumstances. But this? He considered a dire circumstance. He was going to lose his mind if Dean didn’t get inside him immediately.

So, Dean just chuckled and sat back, pulling his fingers away, and quickly stripped out of his shirt, then his pants and boxers, Cas watching him intently the entire time, eyes half-lidded and licking his lips, shifting impatiently in the sheets. Once Dean was naked, Cas reached to drag the older man down on top of himself, pulling him into a breathless kiss.

There was little preamble after that, Cas wrapping his legs around Dean’s hips loosely and Dean pushing his cock into Cas’s pliant body, making the younger man let his head fall back and sigh out a moan as he was filled up completely, perfectly content with Dean finally properly inside him.

Cas would live like this, if he could—but it wasn’t about the sex, it was about the connection. Being as close to Dean as he could possibly be. Sharing an experience that bound them together, even if just briefly. Sometimes he wondered if Dean felt the same—and other times Cas absolutely knew that he did.

This was one of those other times, when Dean started moving inside him slow and deep and sensual, making love to him even though he hadn’t asked for it, and reached up to thread his fingers into Cas’s hair, tugging gently and pulling him into a heated kiss—and Cas felt nothing but love and devotion in ever single action.

And this was what John Winchester was so afraid of, this side of his son. The side that cared so deeply and let down walls and loved with everything he had. Who didn’t want to be the dark, unsung hero, not all the time, not when they had this. Not when they had each other; when they could go out on dates and have sex on the beach or in shitty hotel rooms and eat dubious diner food and just be regular people sometimes.

Now, Dean continued rocking his hips into Cas’s, fucking him so thoroughly and deeply it left the younger man gasping against Dean’s mouth, panting softly as he rolled his own hips in response, meeting Dean’s thrusts with his own, everything slow and hot, the pleasure building gradually in his limbs, in his gut, coiling slowly but easing him toward inevitable release.

Cas dug his fingers into the back of Dean’s shoulders, then dragged them down his back, nails scraping slightly, making Dean hiss, before pausing at the small of his back to hold there, kneading, feeling the way his boyfriend’s muscles bunched and released, shifting along with his movements.

He always wished it could last forever, when they made love like this, and indeed, it seemed to—everything stretching into what felt like an endless span of time, just the push and pull of Dean inside him, over him, around him, kissing him like they had never done this before and possibly never would again. It was always perfect, and this was no exception.

But as with all good things, it had to come to an end. Eventually Dean’s thrusts became faster, harder as he worked them both to their peak—and Cas fell over with a breathless cry, hot come spurting between them, Dean followed soon after, burying his face in the crook of Cas’s neck to muffle a too-loud moan and coming deep in the younger man’s body.

There was silence afterward, broken only by the sound of their panting, and stillness for a few, long minutes, until Cas unwrapped his legs from around Dean’s hips and Dean eased away from him and rolled to the side, landing on his back with a huff. Cas shuffled around to tuck against him with a hum, ignoring the fact they were both covered in drying come for the time being.

A while later, though, he pushed away again and announced that he was going to have a shower. Dean leaned up to kiss him gently and agreed, promising to join him in minute—he just needed another second, so his legs were more stable before he went to stand under running water. Cas laughed and headed into the bathroom without him.

Once he was in there he side-eyed the egg slightly, then carefully picked it up out of the bathtub and set it down in the corner of the bathroom, before finally moving over to get the water going.

Twisting the handle until the water ran at the right temperature—Cas liked his showers hot—Cas pulled the pin to start the shower and climbed in, pulling the shower curtain closed behind himself. Dean would theoretically be joining him in a minute or two, and he was looking forward to that, despite the ominous presence of the egg in the bathroom with him.

Cleaning the now-dry smears of come off his abdomen was the first order of business, and it was taken care of with a washcloth and some body wash. That was the only problem with sex, sometimes, the mess that needed to be cleaned up afterward.

Cas went on to clean the rest of himself up quickly before turning to his thoroughly sexed-up hair, wetting it down and then beginning to scrub it with the actually kind of nice smelling hotel shampoo, the whole bathroom filled with hot steam now—and then he stopped, arms up and hands in his hair, because…

A series of cracking noises from beyond the shower curtain, followed by a kind of muffled pop and a hiss.

Cas froze, listening, and after a moment little, sliding, shuffling sounds could be heard along the bathroom floor and—shit shit shit. Cas quickly rinsed the rest of the shampoo suds away, and was blinking a bit of soap out of his eyes when the shower curtain began to move—

And a little, blue head and neck poked around it, bright eyes peering up at Cas curiously.

“Uh. Hi.” Cas said, the words nervous and stilted, then raised his voice to call out “DEEEEEEEAN—!!”

There must have been some urgency in his shout because Dean was at the door in an instant, slamming it open and demanding, “Cas?!”

The little creature, meanwhile, had clambered up over the edge of the bathtub and slid down inside. It was actually kind of… cute. But still. You never knew. Cas didn’t particularly want to be naked in the shower with it. He took a step back against the wall behind him, “the egg, the egg!”

Dean’s head jerked around, his eyes searching through the steam before landing on the egg, which, of course, was now cracked open and empty. Dean swore and immediately reached to yank the shower curtain open, bodily pulling Cas out of the bathtub with an overly suspicious look at the little… whatsit, that was currently splashing around in the still-running water.

“I’m fine, it didn’t even touch me.” Cas assured his boyfriend when Dean began checking him over. “It just… startled me.”

“Understandable.” Dean grunted, one hand still holding onto Cas’s arm protectively. “Look, I think… yeah. I think we’re just going to back out of the room and close the door for now, agreed?”

While they watched, the tiny animal slid back out of the bathtub and crawled over to the empty eggshell—then began eating it, crunching away, obviously content for the moment. Dean tugged at Cas’s arm and the two of them slipped out of the room, closing the door behind themselves with a click, the shower still running in the bathroom behind them.

Cas stood there, staring at the closed door, for the longest moment, before muttering almost blankly, “should’ve grabbed a towel.”

Dean snorted and went to the second bed, pulling off the thin top blanket and bringing it back over—he tossed it over Cas, who floundered under it briefly before finding his way out again. “There. Dry off. It’s a hotel, they don’t care.”

That was a good point, Cas supposed. Besides, the blanket would dry before they checked out on Friday anyway. So, he just set to drying himself off quickly, until he was left ruffling at his hair. “So, I really wasn’t expecting that. It just started cracking… I could hear it. As soon as the room got hot. Maybe it was the steam that set it off.”

But this put them in an entirely different situation, now. Babysitting a stationary egg was one thing—babysitting a tiny monster was entirely different. Cas glanced at Dean as he let the blanket fall to rest over his shoulders, draped around him like a cape. Dean was staring hard at the bathroom door, a little frown on his face. Cas knew what he was trying to decide—should they be killing the thing or not?

Finally, Cas wandered over to toss the damp blanket back on the second bed and set about pulling clean clothes on—his last set. He would have to take his things down to the laundry room and get them washed. That was the big problem in packing in only a backpack, he could only fit so many clothes.

When Dean eventually turned back around, Cas was tugging a fresh t-shirt over his head, and the older man squinted at it before asking, “what’s The Amazing Devil?”

“Indie band.” Cas replied, “one of my favorites.”

“And you were wearing The Pixies earlier.”

“Yes, Charlie picked that one out for me.”

“With the band shirts now.”

The banter was helping them both calm down after this latest plot twist. Cas dropped down to sit on the edge of their bed and Dean came over to join him. Together they went back to staring at the bathroom door, listening for any sounds from inside the room. There was just the continued sound of quiet crunching, but not much else.

“You know,” Cas said after a while, “eating its own eggshell actually makes total biological sense. A lot of species do it. The shells are full of calcium and all kinds of other nutrients to give the baby… whatever-it-is, a good start in life.”

“Thank you, Animal Planet.” Dean muttered.

Cas allowed it, considering the circumstances. He reached to take Dean’s hand and squeezed gently. “What do you think we should do?”

“I ffffffreaking… I have no idea.” Dean admitted with a sigh.

“I think we should go have a real look at it.” Cas offered, and then, when Dean gave him an incredulous look; “I know, I know! It could be dangerous! It could bite or spit poison or—whatever! But it didn’t seem threatening and… we should figure out as much as we can, right?”

“My God, you sound so much like Sam right now.” The older man’s head dropped forward, and he gave a weak laugh, “okay, just… I am not going in unarmed.”

Luckily, he still had some weapons in his duffle bag from the Hunt he had been on with his dad before Cas had arrived (his dad had carted most of them off in the Impala when he left, though.) Dean lifted his head and leaned to kiss Cas’s cheek, then let go of his hand and went to dig his bag out from under the bed. When his rummaging produced a machete and a buck knife, Cas almost flinched. Dean just handed him the buck knife anyway, and he took it without complaint, but was very sure he wouldn’t be needing it.

Together they approached the bathroom again, Dean leading the way and Cas close behind him. Dean cracked the door open, and they both poked their heads inside cautiously to peer through the steam.

The little creature was a good halfway through munching down the leftover eggshell, and looked up when it realized it was being stared at. It was about the size of a cat, almost reptilian looking with beautiful, cerulean blue skin and scales, a long neck with a small head—a head full of little needle teeth. It also had flippers for limbs and a short, stubby tail that was probably vestigial. It looked right back at them with huge, bright blue eyes that held a startling amount of intelligence.

Dean didn’t move, but Cas eased past him and into the room, crouching down and setting the buck knife on the floor next to him—Dean uttered a harsh “Castiel!” at that—then reached one hand out, palm down and fingers relaxed, the way he had learned to approach Marshmallow when he was in a bad mood.

After another long pause, the tiny thing turned around and kind of hop-shuffled across to him, sniffing the air the entire time, until it was close enough to investigate his hand. It sniffed all over, then nipped lightly just once, clearly testing, before licking the side of his hand, rubbing its cheek over his knuckles, and turning back around, returning to the egg and its meal.

Cas watched it go, then smiled up at Dean. “I’m going to call her Sally.”

“Cas, we do not name the monsters!”

“She’s not a monster, though.” Cas turned his attention back to watching Sally, absolutely fascinated. “I think she’s just… an animal.”

Dean grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back out of the bathroom again, closing the door firmly behind them. Cas went along willingly. He understood. This was something beyond Dean’s experience, and he was a little freaked out. He supposed to a Hunter something “new” was never a good thing.

“Your knife is still in there.” Cas pointed out.

“It’ll survive.” Came Dean’s reply, grumpy. “You really think that thing’s okay?”

“She probably could have hurt me, at least a little, but she didn’t.” The younger man shrugged. “And we have to take care of her until your friend gets here, right? We can’t just leave her in the bathroom and let the shower run for hours. Besides, it’s the bathroom, we’re going to need to use it.”

“Why is it a ‘her’?”

“Because Sally is a girl’s name? Also, she has no external genitalia. Though I guess it’s possible her species just… has no external genitalia, as a rule.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

Dean went over to put the machete away again, then flopped backward onto their bed with a huff. Cas followed him over and crawled onto the bed as well, sitting next to him for a few minutes while he calmed down and then stretching out beside him, tucking into Dean’s side and leaning to kiss by his jaw gently. Dean grumbled but wrapped an arm around him anyway.

“It’s staying in there overnight; I don’t want it wandering around while I’m trying to sleep.”

“She. Her.” Cas corrected with a laugh, “but that sounds like a good plan, yes. Can I go turn the shower off now?”

“I guess.”

“Thank you.”

Untangling himself from the other man, Cas climbed back off the bed and went back to the bathroom, opening the door wide and going inside to turn the water off. Sally had pretty much finished off her egg at that point and he was impressed by her ability to cram so much food into her tiny body so quickly. On his way out of the room, he retrieved Dean’s buck knife—and then left the door hanging open in his wake.

Setting the knife on the bedside table, Cas returned to his spot against Dean’s side. Dean just wrapped his arm back around Cas without a word, and Cas’s own hand traced absent circles on Dean’s chest. “You never put a shirt on.” He observed, “when I yelled.”

“Didn’t seem like there was time.”

“But you put your jeans on?”

“Look, you don’t go into a fight blind, and you don’t go into a fight pantsless. I don’t make the rules.”

Cas laughed and reached up to thread his fingers into Dean’s hair, tugging him into a kiss. “You could have a shower now, you know.”

“I’m not that gross. I can handle being post-sex Dean for a while longer.”

“Mmm. Yes, I rather like post-sex Dean, myself.”

Dean’s lips actually quirked into a little smile at that—but then he paused when shuffling sounds came from the bathroom doorway. They both lifted their heads and watched as Sally hesitantly hop-crawled into the main room, looking around with bright, curious eyes. Dean scooted farther up the bed to get his feet off the floor and tugged Cas along with him, Cas rolling his eyes the whole time.

They stayed like that, cuddled up together on the bed, just listening to Sally explore the room for a while. She wasn’t doing anything untoward. Got into Cas’s backpack a little but that was his own fault for not zipping it closed and there was no damage done. Eventually they both sat up to watch her poke around. When she got to the side of the bed they were on she stretched up as far as her little neck would let her, then tried to jump—and fell, landing on her back with a frankly adorable squeak.

Cas leaned over to right her and Dean admitted, grudgingly, “okay, I guess she’s kinda cute.” Then he grabbed the hotel notepad off the bedside table, ripped a page off, crumpled it up, and tossed it across the room. Sally scrambled after it like a puppy after a ball and Dean actually grinned. “Did I say ‘kinda’ cute? ‘Cause…”

Cas settled back in the bed again, personally satisfied that they weren’t about to be eaten in their sleep, but having no doubt that Dean would insist on locking Sally in the bathroom overnight anyway, just in case.

–
–

They got to sleep late that night after letting Sally wander the hotel room for a couple hours and then corralling her back into the bathroom before spending some time just cuddled up together, talking about the logistics of keeping what was obviously a sea monster in their hotel room. There was a lot to discuss, but hopefully Bobby would be able to help them out with things when he arrived the next day. They finally went to sleep around one in the morning, curled around each other like always.

The next morning, they were woken up early to thrashing and splashing coming from the bathroom, just a general ruckus, and Cas stumbled over to check on Sally and make sure things were alright. As soon as the door was open, she bolted—as much as she could bolt—out into the main room and began searching for the paper ball again. Dean grumbled but it was good-natured grumbling, at least.

Once Dean managed to haul himself out of bed, the two of them left Sally on her paper ball hunt and took a shower, and then, when they were done, refilled the tub halfway for their new friend and left it like that.

Breakfast was shitty hotel coffee and the stale leftover cronuts from the day before, after which they set about the task of wrangling Sally for the next few hours, trying to keep her out of too much trouble until Bobby arrived around one o’clock. He must have been driving like a bat out of hell to get there so fast.

When the knock came at the door, they both looked up quickly, and Cas went over to check the peephole—which was pointless, really, since he didn’t know what Bobby looked like. He glanced back at Dean. “Older man, scruffy beard, baseball cap?” He asked.

Dean nodded. He was currently trying to redirect Sally away from his duffle bag. The bag was securely zipped closed, but she seemed determined to get into it. Cas just left him to it and unlocked the door, pulling it open. “Hello.”

“Hi.” The man said, then looked past him at Dean. “Dean?”

Dean waved for the man to come in and Cas stepped aside, then closed the door behind him, locking it securely. He swallowed slightly. With his track record with Dean’s dad, he wasn’t sure what to expect from Bobby, but still finally cleared his throat to offer an introduction at the very least: “I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are, Castiel Novak. John had me run the entire gambit of background checks on you years ago.” Bobby informed him with a snort, making Dean swear under his breath from across the room. “I’ve heard a lot about you over the last few years.”

Cas gave him a somewhat surveying look. “Good or bad?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Bobby answered truthfully. “if you ask John, well…” Cas and Dean both winced. He didn’t need to continue that sentence. “But Dean, on the other hand, he won’t stop singin’ your praises.” Finally, the older man cracked a lopsided smile and held out one hand. “Bobby Singer. Nice to finally meet you, son, after everything I’ve heard about you.”

Cas let out a little, relieved breath and shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, too.”

When Bobby let go of his hand again, he asked, “so I hear you’ve got an egg problem.”

“Actually,” Dean grunted, and finally just picked Sally up to get her away from the duffle bag, turning around with her in his hands. When Bobby just stared at him, Dean grimaced, “yeah I thought you might say that.”

–
–

“The Loch Ness Monster, Ogopogo, Champ, Morag… none of them exist, Dean, sea monsters, lake monsters, they aren’t real.” Bobby sounded incredulous. “They’re like Bigfoot, they’re myths.”

Dean’s eyebrows went up and he pointed at Sally, who was once again chasing her paper ball around the room. Cas watched her for a minute before looking back at Bobby. “Her name is Sally.”

Bobby gave Dean a look. “Her name is Sally.” He repeated sarcastically. Then he heaved a sigh and palmed over his face, “okay, so let me get this straight. You two idjits found this egg down at the beach, took one look at it, and decided to bring it home with you?”

A little half-shrug and Dean offered weakly, “it seemed like the thing to do at the time?”

“We reasoned that it was safer than leaving it out for someone in the public to find it. It was just right there in the sand under the pier.” Cas said.

“What were you doing under the pier?”

“Sheltering from a storm.” Cas responded, even as Dean simply replied, “screwing.”

There was a long silence, and it was obvious that Bobby was trying to decide whether or not to ask about that—but eventually he shook his head. “Where, exactly, did you find it?” Bobby asked, instead.

“Coney Island.” Dean told him flatly. “And that place is packed. We didn’t know what was in the egg, but it seemed that if it hatched it could be trouble. Better to have it with a Hunter, right?”

Bobby sighed. “I suppose so…”

“But then last night after I’d already called you it just… hatched. Ta-daa, baby sea monster!” Dean rubbed at his hair awkwardly, “she seems friendly enough. She’s kind of cute. But we don’t know how to take care of her, or how big she’ll get, or anything like that…”

For the most part Cas was keeping to himself, letting Dean have this conversation with his mentor. They didn’t need his two cents, really, Dean knew everything he did. But after a few more minutes of talking things out, Bobby’s attention shifted to Cas. He looked at Cas, surveying, searching, before looking back at Dean again.

“Hey Dean, why don’t you go out and get Sally some food? Let me and Cas here get better acquainted.” Bobby suggested, making Cas freeze and blanch slightly.

Dean, however, just smiled easily and stood, reaching to give Cas’s shoulder a squeeze and flashing a reassuring smile. He leaned down to drop a kiss against Cas’s temple before straightening—then stopping. “Wait, how am I supposed to know what this thing eats?”

“It’s obviously an aquatic predator, dumbass, try seafood.” Bobby snorted—and Dean nodded his head, grabbing his wallet off the counter and heading for the door. Once he was gone, Bobby turned his attention to Cas, giving him an obvious once-over before asking flatly, “state your intentions.”

Cas balked slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bobby fixed him with a look. “I ain’t Dean’s father.” He stated, “but I damn near raised him anyway. I ain’t John, and I ain’t gonna treat you like John does. But I need to know your intentions with Dean before I leave New York. And they’d better be good or by God you’re going to wish I was John Winchester.” Then a pause and he asked seriously, “you met in high school, right?”

“I—" Cas shifted in his seat slightly, swallowing, and nodded. “Yes, sir. In final year. We both transferred into Caspar High at around the same time. I…” He trailed off for a long moment before breaking eye contact and glancing down, “we became friends, and then started dating, even though Dean’s Dad forbade it. We got really close… we are really close. I’m closer to Dean than I am with anyone else in my life, even my own Father.”

“Mmhm,” Bobby nodded to himself, then waved a hand vaguely, “and he told you all about Hunting, the life?”

“Yes. He was walking me home from school one day and a vampire attacked us… me. He saved me. And… well, I mean, we both came out okay, but I guess he figured he had some explaining to do, so he told me everything the next day.”

“You’ve been together ever since?”

“Not… geographically. But in all the ways that really count.” Cas looked back up, smiling a little. “I… I love Dean, Mr. Singer, more than anything. More than anyone. He’s the most important part of my life. And I know—I know things are tough for him, with the Hunting and everything, so I just try to be there for him when and where I can. I just try to show him how much he’s loved, every single day.”

“Jesus, kid, you’ve got it bad.”

“Yes, I do. But it’s not a passing infatuation, I promise you that.” Cas’s smile faded out just a little and his eyes flickered down again. When he spoke once more his voice was soft: “I know it’s not possible, not with his life, but I would marry him in a second if I could. Or, forget marriage, I would leave behind my whole life to go on the road with him, even. But… he wouldn’t want me to be in that much danger. And he would be in more danger with me around. So, I never ask or offer. I just keep meeting up with him every couple of months like this for us to eke out time together.”

Bobby eyed him for another minute before shaking his head. “The way John rants about you, you’d think you were the Goddamned antichrist, but here you’re just genuinely in love with his son.”

“I am, yes. I would give my life for his, if the situation called for it.” Cas hesitated before adding softly, “and I think he feels the same way about me.”

Bobby studied him quietly, then, “and you’re okay with the whole arrangement, the way it is now?”

“It’s not ideal, but it’s the best we can do. The best I can do.” Cas smiled gently. “It would be worse not to have him in my life at all.”

“You’ve gotta understand where John’s comin’ from, though…”

“Oh, I absolutely understand. I’m the wrench in the works. Dean’s Dad has spent Dean’s entire life, practically, teaching him and training him, making sure he’s strong and safe and competent as a Hunter. I’m a threat to that.” A small quirk of his lips and Cas shrugged with one shoulder, “I would never purposefully do anything to hurt Dean, but when he’s with me he shows… softness. Weakness. He lets his guard down. And I get it, why his Dad is so against our relationship, he doesn’t want Dean to get hurt. But I also know… Dean won’t let me go. Not without fighting tooth and nail. And I’m holding on just as tightly. We have been for years now. We will for years to come, hopefully… so…”

“So, you stay apart as much as possible and meet up in shitty hotels when you can.” Bobby finished for him. After a pause he offered a smile, “I can’t say I’m not a little worried—for both of you—but it is good to see Dean so happy, and if you’re the cause of that then I can’t exactly hate you for it.” Then the smile faded, though, and Bobby fixed Cas with a serious look; “but if you ever hurt him, kid, so help me God, you’ll have to deal with me, and like I said, you’ll wish I was John.”

Cas swallowed slightly and nodded. He didn’t doubt Bobby’s threat for a second. “I love him with everything I have, Mr. Singer, and do everything I can to help keep him safe and happy. I swear I’ll never do anything to hurt him.”

“Hence the critter currently running around here?” Bobby tipped his head toward Sally, who was had caught up to her crumpled paper ball and was currently chewing it into mulch. He raised one eyebrow.

“That—uh—yeah. Was a joint decision.” Cas gave him an apologetic look, “we just didn’t think it was safe to leave the egg out there on the beach with all kinds of tourists walking around. It was Dean’s idea, too.”

“Of course it was.” The older man took his hat off to rub at his head and then put it back on again. “I need a big cooler.”

“Cooler?” Cas blinked at the seemingly random declaration.

“Yeah, to smuggle Nessie here out in.” Bobby clarified, “we can’t exactly walk her out on a leash.”

He had a point. Cas watched Sally gnaw on what was left of her paper ball for a moment before standing up, going over to take the mangled paper away and throw it out, then picked her up, and took her through to the bathroom. He set her in the half-full bathtub, then left her there to play and returned to his seat opposite Bobby.

The two of them talked about various things (but mostly his relationship with Dean) for a while longer before Dean finally returned. He was toting two bags—one from a little supermarket nearby and one from a burrito joint he had stumbled upon on the way home. He dropped both on the kitchenette counter and then crossed the room to give Cas a quick kiss. “I brought food for us, too, since we haven’t had lunch yet.”

Cas hummed a happy noise—“thanks”—even as Bobby gave a little, hidden smile at the sight. Then Dean returned to the bags and fished out a couple of burritos, tossing one toward Bobby and one to Cas. He pulled the third one out for himself but set it aside for the moment, instead turning his attention to the contents of the other bag, “okay, so the grocery store had a whole section of fresh seafood, and I had no idea what to get, so I grabbed shrimp, sardines and uh… those little squareish blobs, you know… scallops! I got scallops. And I guess we’ll see if anything flies.”

“Squareish blobs.” Cas repeated with a fond look.

“Shut up.” Dean told him distractedly.

Cas laughed and started unwrapping his burrito to take the first bite, watching curiously as Dean got out the little bags of seafood and then headed through to the bathroom where Sally started sniffing the air and perked up immediately. She had long since finished off her eggshell.

In the end it turned out she would eat anything, basically, and gobbled down all of the shrimp, most of the scallops and about half of the sardines before finally seeming to have her fill. Cas was once again impressed by the amount of food she could cram into her comparatively small stomach at once. Then again, she was probably already growing like a bad weed.

When Dean existed the bathroom, he tossed the remaining scallops and sardines into the mini fridge to keep them from spoiling, then grabbed his own burrito and sat down with Cas and Bobby to eat. The three of them were quiet for a while, but eventually Bobby spoke up again with, “so I figure there are a few big enough lakes in my neck of the woods, I can probably plant her in one of those and she’ll do fine. Lake Oahe, maybe.”

“How do we know she’s not meant to be in the ocean?” Cas asked around a bite of burrito, “we found her egg there, after all.”

“Yeah, but she seems to thrive in fresh water, right?” Dean shrugged, “maybe the egg just travelled through the ocean to kind of… drop it on a distant shore?”

“To better disperse the species over large distances.” Cas said, sounding surprised, “that might explain the spongey covering on the egg—to protect it from the salt water!”

Another shrug. “If you say so.”

Bobby gave them both a surveying look, “are you boys sure we’re doing the right thing, here? Sally could get big, and we don’t know what her temperament will be when she grows up. Might be better to take care of her while she’s little like this.”

Cas was halfway to a bite of burrito and paused, glancing toward the bathroom, where Sally was currently clambering her way out of the bathtub again to waddle into the main room, looking for attention. “I think… it’s a chance we should take. Not everything is a monster, you know? I think she’s just an animal. She deserves a chance to live. And she’ll do okay, as long as we don’t domesticate her too much in the meantime.”

Bobby chuckled and nodded his head toward Cas. “Your boyfriend reminds me of Sam a bit.” He told Dean.

“Ugh, don’t even say that.” Dean complained.

“Alright.” Bobby set the last of his lunch aside and patted his hands against his knees before standing. “I guess I’m going out to get me a cooler.”

And Dean just made a muffled confused noise. “Cooler?”

Cas laughed and shook his head, because he’d had the exact same reaction.

–
–

In the end Bobby came back with the biggest cooler he could find, as well as a smaller one as well—the smaller one was for fish and whatnot for Sally along the way. And also, probably, for drinks for Bobby, no one had any illusions over that one. Strictly soda, though, since he would be driving, and Bobby was staunchly against drinking and driving.

After another hour or so of lighter conversation—Dean hadn’t actually talked with Bobby in forever—they loaded Sally into the bigger cooler, along with a couple inches of water, sealed it up, and Bobby and Dean hauled it out of the hotel and down the block to Bobby’s car with Cas tagging along, carrying the smaller cooler filled with ice and what remained of Sally’s lunch. Bobby would have to buy more fish later.

They said their goodbyes to Sally in the parking lot, and Cas gave her a fond little scratch on the head before sealing the cooler again and sliding it into the back seat of the car. Bobby and Dean exchanged a small glance, but both of them were smiling the entire time.

When it came time to saying goodbye to Bobby, they both said massive ‘thank you’s and promised that they owed him one. Bobby and Dean hugged, and when Cas held out his hand Bobby took it—but then pulled him into a hug as well, making him squawk out a surprised noise. He did hug back, though, once he got over the initial shock of the whole thing.

“Well boys,” Bobby said as he was climbing into his car, pulling the door shut and looking out the rolled-down window at them, “I wish you both the best of luck.” And then he caught Cas’s eye and added, “sincerely”, before finishing with, “I’ll call you once I’ve got her dropped off at Oahe. She should be happy there. You know how to get a hold of me if you ever need anything. That means you, too, Cas.”

Cas smiled widely. “Thank you, Mr. Singer.”

But Bobby just waved a hand, “don’t mention it. But no more eggs, ya idjits!”

“We’ll do our best, Bobby!” Dean called, even as Bobby was pulling out and driving away.

Cas watched the car until it was out of sight, then sighed deeply and reached to take Dean’s hand. “So, this’ll be an entry for your journal.”

Dean laughed as they headed back to the hotel to figure out what they wanted to do for the rest of the week, “I definitely won’t be showing it to Dad, that’s for sure!”

THE END