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Sam’s Pov
A dingy pub, early afternoon, so it wasn’t too crowded. Dean and Sam were sitting on either side of an old wooden table and eating radically different foods. Sam was starting to get tired of the same old charade and had asked for a compromise on the restaurant. Dean was willing to hear him out until Sam referenced a place with the word vegan in the description. After that, Dean dictated the place, and they ended up right where they always were.
Sam was miffed to say the least, and now he was bored. Dean not only dragged him to another one of these rundown grease factories, but now he wasn’t even talking to him.
That’s right, Dean Winchester, a man who held on steadfast to his cassette collection, to be played in his car from the 1960s, was glued to his phone. As in not looking up for a second, changing his mailing address to www, glued to his phone.
Sam was sporting the bitchface, it didn’t even matter though because who was there to witness it? Sam, waiting for a minute, just watched Dean.
He noticed something quite interesting. He was smiling. Not a smirk, but a real genuine, dopey, sappy, smile.
He was texting rapidly, his massive burger almost forgotten, it seemed. Sam was now more shocked than annoyed. “Who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?”
Dean finally looked up (almost 7 seconds later) and gave him a dismissive look, “What are you talking about?”
Sam laughed and gestured at the phone still in his hand, “You are smiling like some lovesick puppy.”
Dean glared at him, “I am not,” he said resolutely. He put down his phone to take a bite of his burger. Not even a second after he put it down, it went off again, much to Sam’s amusement.
“Who are you texting?” Sam inquired.
“No one.” Dean continued eating.
It went off again. Dean reached for it. Sam was faster.
He didn’t grab it, he simply placed his hand over it. “If it’s no one, don’t answer it.”
Sam lived for the look on his face when he said that.
Dean doesn’t take orders from Sam; to do so is incredibly against every fiber in his being. On the other hand, he recognized a dare when he heard one. Dean could hear the tone in Sam’s voice that he was just itching for him to prove him right. Well screw that, Dean thought. He moved his hand away and continued eating, with a deep-set glare pointed at Sam.
Sam felt like laughing just from the look on his face. To anyone else, it would just look like he was annoyed. Sam knew better, Dean was actively fighting every urge to grab his phone. Just itching to open it. It was hysterical.
Dean was pointedly looking away from the phone, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any funnier, the phone started buzzing. And it just would not stop.
Dean looked like he was about to lose it.
Then the phone started to ring. I say ring…
I'll put away my pride
Enough's enough
I've suffered and I've seen the light
Dean dove for the phone, and Sam could swear he had never seen him move faster.
Sam cackled at the sight of it, “She has her own ringtone?!”
Dean ignored him. Before even four lines could get out, he answered and hung up all within the same second.
Dean placed the phone down with extreme precision and looked Sam dead in the eye, “Not a word.”
Sam was still laughing.
Then the phone buzzes once.
Sam gives him an amused look. Their exchange of looks prompted Dean to sigh and grab his phone. He opens his phone and types a quick response, and sends it. Just as he is about to close it the phone is snatched from his grasp quicker than lightning.
“Hey, hey, no. Give it back.” Dean held his hand forward, opened and closed it expectantly.
“Why?” Sam asked with mock innocence, holding the phone against his chest. He smiled ever so slightly, watching Dean squirm.
“Because,” Dean looked around like he was trying to search for a good enough lie, “Privacy, man!” He reached forward again, “Come on, give it.”
Sam moved his hand as if to give it back and snatched it away at the last second, “She has her own ringtone?” He smirked.
Dean kept trying to swipe it back without success, “It’s fucking Aerosmith, now give it back!”
Sam relented, and when Dean finally had his phone back, he immediately pocketed it.
Silence.
Sam chewed awkwardly for another moment.
Sam looked upwards and then back at Dean, “So who is she?”
“Oh my God.” He groaned.
It wasn’t Dean’s fault; had Sam been anyone else he wouldn’t have even stirred, but Sam was raised a certain way so he woke up as soon as Dean got up from his bed. Despite how quiet he had been.
Also, something that Sam would’ve done if he were normal. He would’ve either gone back to sleep, or he wouldn’t have pretended to be asleep.
Sam knew something was up with Dean, whether it was a girl he was just refusing to tell him about to be stubborn or if Dean was using that as a cover. After watching Dean talk on the phone from 3:12-4:04 am, he was certain that this was definitely a girl.
Dean was taking a late night phone call and laughing, smiling, and if Sam didn’t know any better, he’d say he’d seen Dean blush a few times.
Sam had no idea who he could possibly be talking to, but now he was determined to find out.
They had been on the road for days. The Aerosmith ringtone debacle happened two days ago. They had left the bunker five days ago. Dean hadn’t gone anywhere alone for any length of time. He had returned to the motel every night, so there was no room for a new one-night stand turned romance, as his original theory dictated. Meaning that the mystery girl had to be someone Dean already knew. Therefore, it was likely Sam also knew her, not guaranteed though.
They were currently driving home to the bunker. Almost three hours left, and Sam did not intend to let them go to waste.
Sam was flipping through the car’s cassette catalog. Dean kept eyeing him sideways, in part because he was protective of his cassettes and also because it was strange for Sam to be doing this.
Finally, after a little more shuffling, Sam turned to Dean and asked, “Can I play something?”
Dean spared him a questioning look before turning his attention back to the road, “Of mine? Sure.”
Sam smiled subtly and placed the chosen cassette into the player. A few notes started playing. It had a twang to it, a sound almost like the creek of an old wooden door sounded.
Dean suddenly ripped it out of the player. Albeit carefully, but quickly, nevertheless. He shoved the cassette into his jacket pocket and continued driving.
Sam looked at him like he had no idea why he would do that, “I thought you liked Aerosmith.”
Dean glared, “Shut up.”
Sam, upon returning to the bunker, grabbed a beer and sat to ponder his thoughts and what he knew.
1. The girl was someone Dean had known from before
2. It was likely Sam also knew this girl
3. He seems to really like this girl
4. She has her own ringtone
5. The ringtone is an Aerosmith song
6. Dean doesn’t seem to want Sam to hear the song.
Maybe the song is a dead giveaway, Sam thought. He crossed the room and grabbed his laptop, and did a quick search. Aerosmith has made 96 songs. So not exactly a small pool of suspects. He could probably narrow it down way more if Dean hadn’t taken the cassette Sam had played with him.
It didn’t help that Sam could barely remember what the song sounded like anymore. Sam needed to work quickly.
Dean pov
“Cas!” Dean whispered urgently. He was struggling to breathe as Cas kissed all over his neck. Biting, sucking. Dean was pressed against the wall, holding on for dear life to the lapels of Cas’ stupid, dorky trench coat. “We need to be quiet, Sam is onto me and I-ahhhh!” Dean gasped as Cas bit particularly hard on the spot below his ear.
Cas had a death grip on his hips. Keeping them in place as they tried to buck forward. Cas kissed him long and hard, pulling the air from his lungs and making Dean melt in his arms. Dean’s legs were starting to shake.
“If you want it quiet, then that’s what we’ll do,” Castiel whispered in Dean’s ear. Dean grabbed onto Cas’ hair as Cas dove back in for his neck, attacking the most sensitive parts, playing Dean like a fucking grand piano.
Dean was falling apart at the seams. The second a moan slipped passed his lips, Cas was off of him in a second.
Dean listed forward almost involuntarily. If Cas hadn’t caught him, he was sure he would’ve fallen forward. “Why’d did-d you stop?” He stuttered.
Cas took a step back, his expression blank. “You said you’d be quiet.”
Dean grabbed onto him and tried to kiss him, but Cas kept moving just out of reach. “Cas, come on, can you…” Dean started to get frantic. His hands were grabbing all over him and pulling, but to no avail. “Cas, come on, I need you to…Cas. Cas. Cas.”
Castiel held him at the shoulders, “What do you need?” He asked simply.
Dean whined and pulled at his coat again. “You know, come on.”
Castiel brought his face down to Dean’s, his lips barely brushing his, and he reveled in the moment Dean chased after him as he moved back. Dean whined involuntarily, pushing against the hands bracketing his shoulders. Cas’ eyes were lidded, “I need you to say it.”
Dean was still panting when he swallowed his embarrassment and looked Cas in the eyes, “I need you to fuck me.”
Castiel’s eyes darkened, “Will you be a good boy and stay quiet?”
Dean nodded fervently, like something was eating away at his soul every second that his lips were detached from Castiel’s, “I will. I will. I will. Cas fuck me.”
Cas grabbed him by the neck and lowered his mouth to Dean’s ear, “Beg me.”
Dean shuddered violently.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
“Shit.” Dean sat straight up in bed and looked at the door. Then, to Castiel, eyes open in adorable confusion as he continued to hold onto Dean, both his arms wrapped securely around his waist.
“What is it, Dean?” Castiel asked. He still didn’t let go. He was still naked.
“Shit.” Dean repeated, “Don’t say anything.” He whispered. The door was locked, Dean had made sure of that. “What is it?” He called back.
“It’s noon,” Sam answered.
“I was just tired.” Dean technically wasn’t lying; he and Cas had had a long night. Omission, he decided.
“On the phone late or something?”
Dean didn’t answer at first. What was he trying to say with that? How much does he know? “Nope, just didn’t sleep well.” He responded nervously.
Sam hummed his disbelief on the other side of the door. “Okay, whatever, man. You should come out soon, gonna waste the whole day.”
Not a waste, his brain supplied immediately while looking down at Castiel, “I’ll be out soon!”
“Cas.” He patted him on the shoulder, “I need you to let me go.”
Cas kept his eyes closed and let out a snore.
Dean chuckled before tapping him on the arm again, “I know you’re not sleeping, you don’t sleep.”
Cas opened his eyes and pouted. He grabbed on tighter and buried his face into Dean’s stomach.
“Cas. Come on!” He startled when Cas kissed his stomach. He started laughing and giggling as Cas continued tickling him.
It was twenty more minutes before Dean was out of bed.
“There’s still coffee, but you’ll have to reheat it,” Sam said without looking up from the massive tome he had open in front of him.
Dean walked over to the kitchen and made a sandwich. When he sat down in front of Sam, he looked up to see Sam staring at him with a huge, smug smile.
“What?” Dean, having sat down five seconds ago, was already exasperated at Sam’s behavior.
Sam just stays smiling and taps wordlessly at his neck with two fingers.
Dean got up and crossed the room, rushing to the bathroom.
Right in front of him, clear as day, just above the collar of his flannel was a hickey.
“Shit.”
Okay, the plan is to just deny everything. Sam still refers to Castiel as a girl, so he can’t be that close.
Dean walks back out of the bathroom and as soon as he enters he common area Sam is looking at him with an anticipatory gaze. He gestures to the seat where Dean was sitting, “Please take a seat Dean.” Sam stayed standing and just in general this whole situation was highly unsettling.
“What’s going on?” Dean cups his neck with his hand self-consciously, “It’s just a rash, it’s going away.”
Sam placed his hands on the mahogany table and gave Dean a stern look. “We both know that’s bullshit.” Dean doesn’t say anything, he simply scoffs unconvincingly, “I also know who it is.”
“No, you don’t,” Dean responded immediately.
Sam started walking around the room, pacing casually with the air of one of those corny detectives of a murder mystery. Smiling, enjoying this whole interaction far more than he probably should, “The first thing I concluded was that you met them before our hunt, as the late night phone call indicated.”
“What are you watching me now?! Creep!” Dean snarked. He tried to avoid fidgeting. Only makes him look more suspicious. Dean noted the gender neutral pronoun with disdain.
“This meant I most likely knew them.” Sam turned on his heel, facing Dean as he focused his intense interrogative gaze, “The second thing I discovered was that you did not want me to find out the song that played on the ringtone. This made me think the song’s lyrics were a dead giveaway. Unfortunately, I could not find the song.”
Dean let out a breath of relief, so maybe there was still a chance he hadn’t found out about Cas.
Sam slammed his hands against the table. Dean didn’t flinch (for sure). “That was until discovery #3!” Dean swallowed, “A hickey!”
Dean rolled his eyes, trying not to let how squirmy he was feeling show, “Sammy, I already told you it’s just a rash.”
Sam steamrolled right over him, “This is incredibly telling! Why?! Because you did not have that yesterday,” Sam took a seat and folded his hands, elbows resting wide on the table as he lowered his eyes to be level with Dean’s. “So how could you have gotten it without leaving the bunker?”
Dean was so screwed. He hadn’t even considered that. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
“I know you’re pretty dense, but I figured you wouldn’t bring some random hussy into the bunker, so who did that leave?”
crap, crap, crap
Sam smiled widely, and Dean could feel the sweat collecting on his neck. Sam pulled open his laptop and clicked a button. “And that was the moment I realized what song it was. So I looked it up to make sure, and the lyrics were exactly the same.”
Sam clicked one more button, and the song started playing.
I'll put away my pride
Enough's enough
I've suffered and I've seen the light
Baby, you're my angel
Come and save me tonight
You're my angel
Come and make it alright
Dean’s face was red.
Sam turned off the song, “Angel, by Aerosmith.” He leaned forward and smiled, “So how long have you and Cas been going out?”
Dean just groaned.