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Dean pulled into the parking lot at the fancy restaurant Castiel’s brother owned, for this command-performance dinner. He was a few minutes early, and thank god for that, because he was a lot more nervous than he’d anticipated. Maybe Cas’ nerves had finally rubbed off on him — if he was nervous about meeting his new boyfriend’s older brother, then Castiel was getting close to panic. Castiel had called him no less than three times this week, stressing about tonight.
Last week, they’d gone to the Roadhouse for a burger, beer and the third degree from Ellen and crew, and Cas sure as hell had looked like a deer in headlights at first. But after the initial awkwardness, that had actually been a pretty good night. Dean got roasted more than usual, but for every humiliating story told at his expense, there had been a smile of encouragement and approval from his extended family over this new relationship. By the time they’d stumbled into bed that night, Dean had been giddy with relief that his family hadn’t been weird about Cas being a guy, and more than a little wired with want — Castiel in jeans and that long-sleeved top had been so smokin’ hot Dean had thought he’d short-circuit before the night ended.
The following morning had been awesome — a little morning delight, Denver omelets for breakfast, bacon up to there — until the phone call from Castiel’s brother, demanding to meet the reason why Cas wasn’t available for impromptu taste tests anymore. Castiel had gone from the dorky, kinda bossy guy Dean was falling in love with incredibly hot for, to a hilariously stressed out wreck in the space of a three minute call, which ended abruptly after Gabriel reserved a table for them for tonight at his place — one of the newer restaurants in town. From all the things Cas had let slip previously about his family, Dean thought they sounded pretty cool, even if Cas thought his brother could give Loki a run for his Trickster title.
So Dean wasn’t really sure why Castiel was so worried about tonight, if his brother had such an awesome sense of humor. Unlike Dean, Cas had been out since high school, and while some of his family had been … unkind about it, Cas was reasonably close with his brother and the cousin who’d made a point of moving near by, even if he had gone to some lengths to keep their new relationship quiet. Cas had been so earnest about wanting to have time to get comfortable with each other before going public, Dean had seen it for the caring protectiveness it was, and it honestly hadn’t occurred to him to think Cas might be ashamed of him until well past the point where such a thought was patently untrue. Where Cas had been out for years, Dean had only recently shared with his family that he was bi, and introducing them to Cas had been both terrifying and awesome. And terrifying. Huh, maybe that fear doesn’t ever really go away.
Straightening his tie and leather jacket, Dean headed for the entrance. Cas had said to meet him here, and the delivery truck was parked next to the loading zone already, so no point loitering outside like a kid from the wrong side of the tracks. Maybe Dean was that kid on the inside, but he didn’t have to act like it.
The hostess, with her wavy brown hair and gray eyes, was exactly the kind of challenge Dean would have amped up the charm for, even a few months ago. She eyed him up and down, with a smile that definitely warned of trouble. “Welcome to Eden’s Harvest, I’m Bela. How can I take care of you today?” Her silky smooth voice oozed trouble, too.
“Uh, hi. I’m meeting with Castiel Novak, maybe, or Gabriel Novak?” The sharp gray eyes looked him over once more, more critical now, and Dean felt more than a little exposed.
Bela smiled again, all teeth, and nodded. “Of course. Your party is here, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?” She led him through the dining room to a circular booth near the back. The dining room was done in rich, cozy earth tones, and the cobalt blue of Castiel’s shirt stood out. As they approached the table, Cas’ blue eyes seemed to glow with appreciation, and Dean knew he had very nearly the same expression on his own face. Damn, I have good taste in men.
“Well, aren’t you too delish to believe! Are you the reason my baby brother fell off the map?” Dean’s eyes snapped to the other man at the table, who was now sliding out for an introduction. Gabriel looked nothing like Cas at first glance, being several inches shorter, with shaggy golden hair and warm brown eyes. Castiel stood, too, and his hand settling at the small of Dean’s back felt a lot like reassurance.
“Dean Winchester, I’d like you to meet my brother, Gabriel Novak. Our cousin is around here somewhere, too, and he’ll join us when he’s free.”
Bela spoke up. “Dean, can I get you something from the bar? Castiel suggested you might appreciate a bourbon on the rocks?”
Dean nodded his thanks, and slid into the booth next to Cas. “So Cas tells me you and your cousin opened this place about a year ago. How are you liking it?” Gabriel answered easily, and conversation turned to the economy and the local chamber of commerce, while Dean surreptitiously studied the brothers, looking for some kind of family resemblance. After a few minutes, he gave up. After all, he and his brother Sam seemed unrelated until you got to know them.
Bela returned with four glasses of bourbon, and flashed Dean a predatory smile. Uneasy, he glanced at Castiel, who was watching Bela through narrowed eyes. “Bela, perhaps you could go hurry your husband along?” Castiel murmured in her direction. Dean wondered if he was imagining the edge to Castiel’s voice, until he saw the venomous look Bela threw at Cas before turning away. Whatever that was about, it seemed mutual.
“So she’s your cousin’s wife?”
“Yes, I’m afraid she’s one of the bad habits he brought back from Europe…” Castiel sighed.
Gabriel grinned. “She’s a barracuda, but she’s family. She was in a few of our classes in university, and it was obvious that she and Bal would have to either kill each other or fuck it out. They’re still fucking it out, and we wouldn’t be doing half as well as we are if it weren’t for her marketing witchcraft. You know that much is true, Baby Brother.”
Dean grinned when Castiel rolled his eyes. “I still don’t want to turn the farm into a glorified playground. I’m already short handed, and I have neither the time nor patience to babysit townspeople wandering around my greenhouses getting into trouble. I’m the farmer so I can stay away from people, Gabriel.”
“So what was this idea, then?” Dean wondered aloud, mostly to tease his boyfriend. The way his blue eyes sparked, seeing Castiel get annoyed was never going to get old. At least, when it wasn’t aimed at Dean.
A smooth new voice spoke from just behind Dean. “Bela, my lovely bride, believes we could arrange some of those ridiculously high-priced alfresco events at Eden’s Acres and make an unholy killing, if Castiel here would only clean the place up a bit and permit her the use of the garden.” Dean turned to see a slender blond man sizing him up, very much like Bela had.
Castiel urged Dean to slide out again for more introductions. “Balthazar Roche, whose wife Bela you have met, this is my boyfriend, Dean Winchester. Who is much too intelligent to cooperate with you two pressuring me to shift my focus from my working greenhouse operation at Milton Farm, which supplies you with all your produce, into a wedding venue.”
“Nope, staying out of that argument. I’m just a grease monkey, I don’t even know what alfresco means.” Dean extended his hand in greeting.
Balthazar seized his hand in a surprisingly tight grip. “It’s a marketable five-dollar word for outdoor meals, whether that be food or sex. Tell me, Dean, do you ever make a meal of my cousin, alfresco?” Dean goggled at the blunt question delivered in oily-smooth tones, and took his hand back — with a little difficulty.
“Balthazar…” Castiel sighed, as he slid back into the booth, Dean following.
Balthazar slid in next to Gabriel, and reached for his drink. Gabriel winked at Dean. “What Bal means is, how did you two meet?”
“No, Gabriel, I assure you I really want to know if Dean’s ever bent Cassie over a bale of hay.” Pale blue eyes studied Dean over the rim of his glass, glinting with mischief.
”Balthazar…” This time, Castiel’s voice was a warning growl, and Dean was grateful the table hid his dick’s immediate attention from Castiel’s family. Balthazar probably didn’t need the encouragement.
“Ha ha ha. Yeah, the first time I ran into Cas, it was nearly literal. I was driving down the service lane behind my brother’s office, and this delivery truck was stopped dead in the middle of the lane. My first thought was that some jerk couldn’t be bothered using the loading zone, except for the swearing coming from the front of the truck. I learned some new words that day.”
“Thankfully, Dean helped me get the truck towed, my deliveries finished, and drove me home, but I can’t for the life of me tell you what was wrong with the engine.”
“Everything, Cas. Everything was wrong with it. You gotta take care of your vehicles or you’re gonna need a tow truck to come haul your ass from the skinniest lane Lawrence township’s got, on the one day you can’t afford delays. That’s just Murphy’s Law. It took me and Garth two solid days to get that engine running clean.”
“Dean, honey. I’m well aware that you have me on a schedule now and why it’s critical to my operation. But I still blame you for my inability to comprehend what was wrong with the truck that day.”
“Oh, really, Cassie? And why’s that?” Gabriel’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Was it because Dean-o here is distractingly pretty?”
“At the risk of you two objectifying my boyfriend, can you blame me?”
Dean flashed a cocky grin at Castiel. “Well, I’m not gonna lie. I made sure to drive him home from the shop that day, and I pretty much invited myself out to his farm for an equipment welfare check that weekend. Figured if this beautiful bastard treated his delivery truck that bad, he had a bunch of other equipment that needed my expert touch too. I wasn’t wrong, either.”
Balthazar threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, I’m sure his equipment benefited greatly from your expert touch. So, tell me, Dean, does my darling cousin like to catch, or does he prefer to pitch?”
“He prefers that you keep such invasive questions to yourself.” The low fury in Castiel’s voice was both terrifying and incredibly hot. Dean wasn’t at all sure how neither Gabriel nor Balthazar seemed the least bit bothered by it — Dean was holding onto his heart cool with both hands.
“So, you met my bro because of his broken-down truck, and decided to go check out the rest of the vehicles because you thought he was good-looking?” Gabriel re-directed the conversation, and Dean was so, so grateful. There was some kind of trap here, he knew, but he’d rather talk about how he and Cas got together than discuss the particulars of their sex life with Cas’ family. Not that the sex wasn’t utterly spectacular — just, it was private.
“He’s devastatingly handsome, and just about every gadget with a motor he’s got on that farm is running better now, so yeah, I’d say that was a good call on my part.”
Gabriel grinned at him, and gave Castiel a warm look. “You mentioned Grandpa Milton’s old tractor is back up and running. Was that Dean’s doing?”
Castiel smiled fondly at the memory. “Yes, Dean turned up at the farm the Saturday morning after the truck broke down, and took a look over all the other equipment. I gave him lunch, a tour of the farm, and my number, and we got talking about the tractor. With the greenhouses, I don’t need it as much as Grandpa did, but I never could bring myself to get rid of it, and there’s honestly no better way to mow the back forty. So Dean kept coming around on the weekends, and he’d tinker on whatever farm equipment needed attention, and managed to bring the tractor back to life.”
“Oh, how lovely! When we convince you to let us host our alfresco events, you can offer hayrides to the families!” Bela sounded genuinely delighted as she settled an appetizer platter on the table, slipping into the booth next to her husband. The look of pure irritation on Castiel’s face was hilarious to Dean.
“Bela, darling, don’t pick fights with Cassie while we’re trying to get to know his new boyfriend. You and Balthazar might think arguing is the new talking, but not everyone does,” Gabriel winked at Dean. “What I want to know is whether you made a move early on, or if you let Cassie beat around the bush until the cows came home?”
“Oh, god, Gabriel, really?” Castiel hid his face in his hands. “We’re together now, what does it matter how it happened?”
“Baby bro, you are one of the sweetest guys I know, but Casanova you are not.”
“Casanova he sure as hell is. It mighta taken us a couple months to figure things out, but we got there, and it wasn’t because I was shooting my shot.”
That earned Dean a glare from Gabriel. “You weren’t, huh? So Cassie took a chance and you’re what, settling? Don’t think my brother’s worth the effort?”
“Dude? Breathe. Castiel is worth the effort, all of it. But it’s a hell of a lot easier to romance someone when you’re not having to question your own identity to do it.”
The table was silent for a few heartbeats. Castiel settled a comforting hand on Dean’s knee, squeezing gently, and Dean gave him a shy smile. He knew he was cherry red, but damn if he was going to let Castiel’s family think their boy was getting played. Taking a deep breath, Dean looked Gabriel in the face.
“It took me awhile — even before meeting Cas — to get comfortable with liking guys too, okay? I knew it, I just wasn’t real certain how to proceed, or if Cas was just being friendly and he’d knock my block off for trying for more. So I made like that Red Green guy off PBS, and played it so if he didn’t find me handsome, he’d at least find me handy.”
Remembering the awkward dance of their early courtship, Cas laughed. “I was worried my sexy new friend would disappear once he ran out of things to fix, and I decided it was time for some desperate measures. So I called him one Saturday morning and told him the four-wheeler wasn’t running right, and hid the radiator hose from it. So Dean comes out, and pokes around for a bit, and comes to the back porch to tell me what’s up. And finds the damn hose tucked behind my chair, because I didn’t put as much thought into hiding it as I did into getting him out there again. God, that was embarrassing.”
“Yeah, but when I asked you why the hose was lying there instead of installed like it should be, you were cuter than all fuck, and you took your shot. Thank god, too, because I think Sam was gonna interfere if I froze one more time. You think having a cousin who wants raunchy details is bad — try a brother with a Cupid complex.”
“Sam? Sam Winchester, the lawyer?” Gabriel asked, eyes dancing.
“Yeah, he’s my brother. I have no idea why he came back here after Stanford, but I’m glad he did. I’d miss the moose if he’d stayed in California.”
“He’s one tall drink of water, that guy. I was going to give you the whole ‘out vs closeted’ lecture, except you’re not really closeted anymore, are you? Had a whole coming out party last weekend at Harvelle’s?”
“Ummmmmm…” Dean stalled. He didn’t know what the lecture was about, but — how the hell did Gabe know about the party? Until last weekend, Castiel had believed Gabe was unaware of their relationship, thinking only that Cas had found someone to hook up with on occasion. Occasions being as often as they could manage, and not nearly often enough for Dean. Not that he was anywhere near ready to admit that out loud …
“You clearly have other sources of gossip for my social life, Gabriel, because I certainly didn’t tell you about that evening. And it wasn’t really a formal party either — we merely joined several of Dean’s family and friends at their usual haunt for a meal. Much like now, in fact.”
Bela pursed her lips. “I don’t think you can fairly compare Eden’s Harvest with Harvelle’s Roadhouse. We have put a great deal of effort into every aspect of our guest experience, we offer exclusively organic menu items, we have Swiss-trained management, an award-winning pastry chef, a Cordon-Bleu-trained chef de cuisine, and a local pedigree. Harvelle’s is… it’s little more than a tavern!”
Dean bristled, ready to chew her a new one. Beside him, Castiel drew himself upright, anger radiating off him in blue sparks. It was Gabe, though, who responded. “You want local pedigree, woman? The foundation of this town was laid by Harvelles and Winchesters, long before Grandpa Milton bought his farm. I remember old Henry coming out to the farm to help Grandpa Milton with the same damn tractor Dean fixed. Ellen Harvelle hired me when Grandma Milton told her I was looking for baking experience. I’m the reason she’s got a solid dessert menu, and she’s the reason I’m a pastry chef. When Benny fired your fancy crooked meat dude from Kansas City, Ellen was the one who put a good word in for us with the local butchers. And —” Gabe speared Cas with a whiskey-colored look “— Ellen told me she was looking forward to meeting her nephew’s new beau, and had her hands full keeping Jo from glitter-bombing the place to celebrate them coming out.”
Dean felt about as dumbfounded as Bela looked. “I need to thank Ellen. Again.”
Gabe grinned at that. “You really do. Jo apparently has a huge box of crap in her apartment that Ellen told her she’d be evicted if she brought it into the Roadhouse proper. So, fairrr warrrning —” Gabe suddenly sounded like a drunken pirate “— tharr still be glitterrr-bombs and prrride flags in your futurrre, but you got to come out to your family without looking like a parade float.”
“Ellen Harvelle deserves a great deal of our gratitude then. When I took the farm over from Grandpa Milton, she’s the one who suggested I look into organic certification — long before Gabriel got back from Europe. So keep in mind, Bela, marketing witchcraft is not the only kind of magic that goes into a thriving restaurant.”
Dean watched in fascination as Bela’s expression morphed through a wild array of emotions before the Ice Queen mask slammed into place. “Thank you both for the history lesson. I need to get back to work. Shall I send Kevin over with the bottle for you, dear?”
Balthazar studied her a moment before kissing the tip of her nose. “Yes, darling, that would be lovely. Now off with you, and protect my investment, will you?” She stalked off, shapely hips twitching in annoyance as she went.
“You’ll have to forgive my bride. She is rightly proud of what we have accomplished here, but occasionally favors style over substance. I’ve heard lovely things about Ellen’s brunch menu, though, Dean. Do you recommend it?”
“Yeah, I really do — nothing on that menu I don’t love, but I might have married her for the buttermilk pancakes in another lifetime. I honestly didn’t know about the whole glitter-bomb thing — I’m gonna have to make that up to her.” Dean mused. He had no doubt Gabe was right about Jo, though. The prank war they’d started as kids had never really ended.
“Her Eggs Benedict is quite nice, Bal, I think Bela will like it.” Castiel reached for the bottle Kevin had left for them, topping up Dean’s glass, then his own. “I take it Benny is planning to test a new recipe on us?”
“’Fraid so — you’ve been ducking your taste-testing responsibilities lately, so he’s got a few things up his beefy sleeves.” Gabe grinned at them as he topped up his own glass, handing the bottle to Bal. “So, Dean-o. Tell me about Sam. When Ellen mentioned that she was putting together your thing last weekend, I actually thought it was for him.”
Dean glanced at Castiel before answering, and got caught in his boyfriend’s fathomless blue eyes. God, he was so freaking head-over-heels hot for this guy, it was a little surreal. The sound of dual throats being cleared dragged his attention across the table to their interrogators, and Dean blushed, caught out.
“I see I had it all wrong, my apologies, Dean. It’s our choir-boy Cassie who’s bent you over every surface he can find, isn’t it?”
”BALTHAZAR …” The short hairs at the back of Dean’s neck stirred as every nerve-ending responded to his boyfriend’s “command” voice. Um. Gabe had asked him something, right?
“Uhhh, yeah. Sammy. He’s the smart one in our family. Y’know about Stanford Law, umm, he articled with old Turner before the guy retired, and bought him out, so he’s got his hands full with regular practice. Still volunteers with a couple LGBTQ+ rights’ groups in the area. His office is, like, right around the corner so I bet he’s been in here before.”
“I know he has, Dean. We spoke at length last weekend about organic farm-to-table practices, and he was very enthusiastic about recommending Eden’s Harvest to me, and was a little surprised to learn I’m a silent partner. However, he genuinely believed Bela’s attempt to re-brand my farm as Eden’s Acres was an official name change, and had some suggestions on that front.” Dean was going to have to get a grip before his boyfriend’s smiles turned him to goo.
“Yeah, he thinks you’re going to have some kind of come-to-Jesus moment with me about eating my vegetables soon, because you’re this fancy organic farmer, and I’m a meat-and-potatoes heathen.”
“Well, brother, I guess it’ll be my mission to change that. Castiel grows the best produce I’ve ever had the pleasure to fricassee. His eggplant could make a grown man weep.” The drawling baritone belonged to one of the brawniest damn teddy-bears Dean thought he’d ever seen. Beside him, Castiel dropped his head into his hands in evident chagrin.
“Et tu, Brute? Balthazar is being insufferable, I’m quite sure we don’t need to add further innuendo to the mix.” Dean grinned at the ruddy chef, as Castiel groaned in frustration and Kevin silently distributed plates. “Benjamin Lafitte, I’d like you to meet Dean Winchester. My boyfriend. Dean, Benny has been a good friend for years. When Gabe and I left New England, we washed up in Baton Rouge and his grandmère adopted us.”
“Cher, you know I’m right about the eggplant. I’d say from the color of your boy’s face he knows, too.” Dean prayed for a black hole to magically open up and swallow him whole, while Castiel groaned even louder, and the others laughed. Benny clapped him on the shoulder and took pity on him, describing their meal. “…sweet-potato grits, a cauliflower-broccoli gratin — starring your man’s finest miniature trees, Dean — and jambalaya with chicken and sausage, because y’all prairie folk are heathens about seafood.”
“Nah, it’s an inherited bias. Used to be you’d order seafood at a restaurant in Kansas if you had an appointment you needed to miss the next day, but nowadays, you can eat sushi from almost anywhere except the Gas’N’Sip and be just fine. Reefer tech for the win, man.” Dean grinned, giving Benny a friendly wink.
Benny nodded, considering, and continued. “So, eat up. I’ll be expecting specific feedback on everything.” With that, Benny headed back to the kitchen.
Dean applied himself to his meal, his mind whirling with speculation. Benny and Cas? Weirder, Gabe and Sam? He was jolted out of his thoughts when Cas bumped shoulders with him.
“What do you think? First impressions, no wrong answers.”
“Hmmm. Well, Gabe seems like a cool guy, but I have a feeling if I don’t treat you right, he can get creative. Balthazar has a filthy mind and an interesting sense of fair play. Bela seems like she eats bunnies for breakfast, but that might be an act. Maybe. Little worried about how well Benny knows your eggplant, but as long as your andouille’s in my jambalaya, I’m good.”
This was met with twin snorts of amusement from across the table, and an amusing eye-roll from Cas, who murmured, “I meant the food, hon.” Dean felt his face heat up again. It’s a good thing he was expecting tonight to be this awkward.
Balthazar murmured “She can certainly eat my bunny for breakfast, with no complaints.”
Gabe responded with a feral grin. “Well, now you mention it, yeah, I can get creative. We didn’t leave the family estate because my warped sense of humour got us kicked out, we left because they’re a bag of homophobic dicks, and Cassie had the nerve to stand his ground. Not that they weren’t totally relieved when Zonko’s Joke Shop moved with us.”
Dean’s mouth was full, so he raised an eyebrow in question.
“Gabriel’s high spirits tended to result in toy buzzers on door knobs, fart pillows tucked under the upholstery, and a diverse array of ways to utterly fuck with our parents. The post-it-papered den for Father’s Day was inspired. I do believe, however, that rigging Uncle Zach’s shower head with rainbow glitter might have taken things a little far.”
“No dice, Baby Bro. He was paying for that camp they were going to send you to. The one the pride groups were trying to shut down. I’ll rig his entire damn house with rainbow glitter and shrimp tails before I let him within fifty yards of you.”
Dean chuckled, a grim, dark sound. “I get that feeling. Sam’s a big guy now, but he sure was a runt in freshman year. Ran his mouth exactly the same though, and I wound up getting creative with a couple guys who thought he was fair game. Rigged a paint-ball cannon and took them out on the obstacle course. Rainbow paint, head to toe on both of them. God, that was worth the suspension. Sam, though. Shoulda known the kid was gonna be a lawyer — he stood there in the principal’s office, didn’t yell, didn’t swear, didn’t break a sweat. He just stood up on his chair, and told Crowley what was what. The shit Luke and Nick had been doing to the freshmen, what he expected Crowley to do about it, and what Crowley could expect if he didn’t.”
Castiel chuckled. This story had been told in great and gory detail last weekend at the Roadhouse, with both Dean and Sam speaking over each other, and Jo doing imitations of the bullies in question skulking around the rest of the year.
Balthazar topped up Dean’s glass. “And did Crowley address the problem to Samuel’s satisfaction?”
Dean glanced at Castiel, grinning with pride before he answered. “I got suspended for a week. Luke and Nick did too, but they also got hardcore detention on top of that, for the rest of the semester. So, moral of the story, you mess with Sam, you deal with me. And then Sam’ll get me off the hook and put you on it.”
Gabriel gave him another feral grin, and Dean finally saw the resemblance between the brothers. Gabe’s smile was eerily similar to the predatory smile Cas often wore moments before taking Dean entirely apart. All things considered, though, Dean thought he’d never tire of that smile. Of any of Cas’s smiles, for that matter.
“So, I gotta ask, how’d you meet Sam, if you didn’t already know we were brothers?”
“He’s been coming in for lunch a couple times a week since we opened. We got to talking. Says he’s got a big brother who’d probably sell his soul for pie.”
Castiel’s chuckle was a little filthy. “Well, that’s true. I’m not the pastry chef you are, clearly, but the sounds Dean makes when presented with fresh pie are obscene.”
“I’m right here.”
“Yes, you are, hon, and I said what I said. I didn’t say I don’t love it, though.”
“Oooh, I’d like to hear this! Gabriel, do tell me there’s fresh pie for dessert!”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Trying a new pastry recipe out, and if Dean’s reaction isn’t semi-orgasmic, I’ll know I failed.”
“No worries, duck. If the pie doesn’t get him off, then Cassie can rim him over coffee. We still get dinner and a show.”
”BALTHAZAR…”
~~~
Dean finished brushing his teeth, dropping his spare toothbrush into the holder next to Castiel’s, and studied his boyfriend in the mirror. It had been nerve-wracking meeting the family, but seeing Cas with the people he was closest with had left Dean with a weird little bubble of something fizzy and warm where his heart belonged. No, dude, don’t lie to yourself. That’s been going on awhile, it’s just bigger now.
“So, you think that went okay?” Dean’s voice sounded a little breathless, even to himself.
“Better than anticipated, actually. Balthazar can be relentless, and has successfully scared my dates away in the past. Bela didn’t show her claws too much tonight, but I doubt you’ll be spared the next time she decides I need to play along with her plans for the farm. Most importantly, though, I think Gabriel was favorably impressed. Mind you, the moans you gave over dessert, Dean. You do realize that was a family establishment?”
Dean sidled up behind Cas, sliding his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and tucking his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder, where it fit perfectly. Everything about them fit perfectly. “What I realize is that I spent an entire evening sitting next to the hottest guy in that place, and I managed not to make a total ass of myself in front of his family.”
“I beg to differ — I was seated next to the hottest guy in that place, and only the thought of encouraging Balthazar’s ribaldry helped me keep my hands to myself.”
“He’s a funny guy, but anyone who’d let that kind of thing scare them off weren’t worthy of you anyway. Have I ever thanked you for pulling the radiator hose out?”
Castiel twisted around in his arms, so that they were face-to-face. “I believe you have, one or two hundred times. Have I ever thanked you for saying yes when I finally made my move?”
Dean studied the man in his arms, his blue eyes shining with affection, lips looking a little sinful. Dean bit his lower lip briefly, and watched Castiel’s eyes track the movement, before closing the distance between them. As Castiel opened to his kiss, returning it with heat, Dean could taste the coffee and the apple pie they’d finished their meals with, but under that was the taste of acceptance, of trust. The taste of home, and Cas himself.
The fizzy, warm sensation ballooned outward, until Dean had to break their kiss to breathe.
“Honey, you’re trembling. Are you okay?”
“Cas, I … I think actually … everything’s perfect. You’re perfect. I meant what I said to Gabe, y’know. You’re worth all the effort, and I wanna …” Dean rested his forehead against Castiel’s, breathing deeply for a moment. “Castiel Novak, I love you.”
Tears formed in Castiel’s eyes, and he tightened his grip on Dean’s waist. “I love you, too, Dean. So very much.” Cas gave him a devouring kiss, and then growled, “But I have a very long list of surfaces I need to bend you over. We have work to do…”