Thin apartment walls don't bother Dean all that much since he'd practically grown up living in crappy motels where you could almost hear your neighbors breathing if you concentrated hard enough. So he barely notices the sounds coming from the other apartments around him.
The ceiling often shakes with pounding footsteps at all times of the day or night because apparently the folks up there have to run from room to room instead of walking. The neighbor on the other side of his kitchen likes to blare NPR while they're making breakfast, and have a kickass surround sound system and a fondness for action movies. The people below him have a gaggle of screaming kids.
No big deal. Dean can tune it all out with hardly any effort. At worst, he rolls his eyes in the direction of the offending apartment, and turns up his tv or radio and gives them a taste of their own medicine.
The only one that really disturbs him is the one whose bedroom wall is shared with Dean's own room. For the most part his neighbor is completely silent, and Dean doesn't even know he's there. Dean's never even seen him since he moved in, so the only reason he knows that it's a guy living over there is because of the little bit of sound that does filter through the thin barrier between their bedrooms.
Mystery neighbor is really fucking noisy during sex.
Like, not just loud. The dude is vocal. Between grunts and gasps, he's bossy. Demanding. And very clearly a bottom. Dean's heard fuck yeah give me that cock on enough occasions that he's fallen asleep dreaming that he's the one plowing his faceless neighbor’s ass.
It doesn't happen a lot, thank god. Dean's not the type to make a noise complaint over his neighbor's sex habits because lord knows he's heard way worse in those shitty motels when he was a kid, and it's rare enough that he's pretty sure Mystery Neighbor isn't turning tricks out of his apartment anyway. But every time it happens Dean isn't able to tune it out like he does with his other neighbors. His ears practically prick up when it starts. His dick definitely does.
And look, he's a healthy young guy with an energetic libido. He can't exactly ignore what's going on over there, or the way his dick reacts to it. And he jacks off even without the sexy noises coming from the other side of the wall. So it isn't really creepy that sometimes he gets off at the same time Mystery Neighbor does, right?
That's his story and he's sticking to it.
So yeah, he's not bothered by the thin walls or the racket his neighbors make. What's bothering him at the moment is that Mystery Neighbor is getting laid, but he sounds so bored.
He's still being vocal, but his tone is flat. His gasps and moans are obviously fake.
It's so bad that Dean can't even understand why it's still going. He can't get it up by listening, so how is Mystery Neighbor's partner not just giving up and getting the hell out of there? If Dean was fucking a guy that sounded that indifferent to the whole ordeal, his dick and balls would shrivel up and try to hide in shame.
Second hand embarrassment eventually drives him from his bed. He can't listen to that, and there's no way he's sleeping through it.
After rolling out of bed he pulls on his favorite robe, but doesn't bother to tie it closed. He's alone in the apartment and it's too hot to bundle up because his air conditioner is on the fritz again. He doesn't really need the robe, but it's soft and comfortable, and his favorite thing to lounge around in.
It's well past midnight so he's not sure what he's going to do with himself. Boredom eating sounds like fun though. He wanders into the kitchen and stares into the fridge for a few minutes, but nothing looks good so he tries the freezer next. His eyes land on the carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. It may be cliche to eat ice cream alone in his underwear, but fuck it, he has no one to tell him no. It's one of the perks of being a grown up.
He grabs the ice cream and a spoon, and when he sees his cigarettes on the counter he scoops them up as well. Then he wanders out to his balcony and sprawls on the lawn chair he has set up out there. He lights up a smoke and takes a deep drag before opening the ice cream and digging in. He keeps the cigarette tucked between the fingers holding the spoon so he can go back and forth between the two treats.
He's halfway through his second cigarette when the scrape of a sliding glass door makes him look up. The balcony next to his has a lawn chair similar to his own, as well as a row of potted plants that look like herbs, so he knows the space gets used by his neighbor, but Dean has never seen him out there. He holds his breath in anticipation, which is silly since he doesn't know if it'll be Mystery Neighbor or his boring lay walking out onto the balcony.
The air escapes his lungs in a sharp huff when he lays eyes on the man that emerges. The light from a nearby street lamp is enough to illuminate the guy's body, which is prime fucking real estate, with wide shoulders, tight abs, thighs that Dean would love to get between. And because he's only wearing a pair of bright orange briefs, Dean is also getting an eyefull of the guy's intricate tattoos as well. He's too far away to see details, but they're practically everywhere, wrapping around his body and limbs like ivy.
Damn, he really hopes this is Mystery Neighbor and not the Boring Fuck spending the evening with him.
He must make a noise because Hot Stranger looks his way. Dean nearly melts when the dude smiles at him.
That is definitely Mystery Neighbor's voice, and Dean is now afraid he's going to spontaneously combust. His voice is ten times sexier without a wall muffling it. Or maybe it's just that the whole package hits every one of Dean's buttons. Whatever the attraction is, Dean is in complete lust with his neighbor.
So he's pretty proud of himself for not sounding like a squeaky teen when he responds. "Hey there."
Hot Neighbor - because even though Dean doesn't know him, he's no longer a complete mystery - lifts his hands to his face and lights his own cigarette. He takes a deep drag and blows out a long stream smoke. "Nice night."
Dean has mostly been focused on his cigarette and his ice cream, so he hasn't noticed much besides the balmy temperature. He tears his eyes away from Hot Neighbor and glances around. There's too much light pollution to see the stars, but this late at night the nearby freeway is mostly silent so he can hear the crickets singing, accompanied by the susseration of the warm breeze through the surrounding trees. Moths dance around the street lamp to the rhythm of their song, and the air is sweetened by the clove his neighbor is smoking.
His eyes wander back to the other man, and he smiles. "Yeah. I guess it's not such a bad thing that I'm awake for it."
Hot Neighbor's eyebrows go up, and he flicks ashes over the edge of his balcony. "Insomnia?"
It's probably not a good idea to mention the loud sex, but it is the reason Dean is awake. And they're both outside in their underwear having a casual conversation, so some boundaries have already been crossed. He takes one last drag from his own cigarette before snuffing it out in the ashtray he keeps on a little table next to his chair. Then he scoops up a spoonful of ice cream. "Naw, just couldn't sleep with all the loud sex happening next door," he says before filling his mouth with the sweet treat.
It's hard to tell in the golden light of the street lamp, but Dean thinks his neighbor's cheeks darken with a blush, even though he shows no other signs of discomfort. Instead, he grins and takes another drag of his clove. Smoke seeps from between his lips when he speaks. "Sorry about that."
He doesn't sound sorry. But Dean isn't looking for an apology. He smirks as he stirs his melting ice cream with his spoon. "Don't be, man. I don't mind." He pauses, unsure if he should say what he's thinking, but then decides fuck it. "Hell, I think it's hot. Although you didn't sound like you were having much fun tonight."
Hot Neighbor's jaw sags slightly, and then he tilts his head back on a laugh. And holy shit, it makes him even sexier. Dean's dick perks up a little, and he should probably at least close his legs and pull his robe over his crotch to hide his reaction, but he's feeling bold, so he stays sprawled in his chair, and continues to eat his ice cream.
Hot Neighbor's laughter fades into chuckles, then just a gummy grin, which he directs at Dean. "What's your name?"
"Hello, Dean. I'm Cas."
Dean winks. "Hey, Cas."
Cas flicks his ashes again, then braces both hands on his balcony's banister, leaning out across the space separating them. "Well, Dean, you're right. The guy was hot, but-" he holds up one hand, with all his fingers curled into a fist except the pinky, which he wiggles suggestively, "-not quite the kind of entertainment I was looking for."
The implication makes Dean nearly spit out his latest bite of ice cream. He wipes a wrist across his mouth and pins Cas with an incredulous look. "Really?"
Cas sighs, and nods. "But he was so enthusiastic, I decided to give him a chance anyway."
"I take it that enthusiasm didn't do much to improve the experience?" Dean hopes Cas' guest doesn't overhear them, but he can't resist teasing.
Cas wrinkles his nose, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. "Kind of the opposite, actually."
Dean chuckles. "Yeah, I could tell."
"You listen to me having sex enough that you can tell if I'm having fun or not?" He takes another inhale from his clove, and the cherry at the end brightens, illuminating his eyes. It's still too dark to and the distance between them too far for Dean to determine their color, but the red reflecting off them makes him look like the devil.
"The walls are thin, dude."
"I've never heard you."
Dean isn't about to admit that there's nothing to hear because he only gets down and dirty with his own hand these days. "Maybe I'm just better at keeping it down when I'm having fun."
Cas snorts his disbelief. "Sounds like you're not having much fun at all."
"I dunno," Dean drawls. "You keep me pretty entertained. So thanks for that, I guess."
He has no idea where all this flirting is coming from. Cas is a complete stranger, and currently has a guy over for sex. It's obviously not serious, but still.
Cas licks his lips, and wow that's downright sinful. The wicked glint in his eyes only makes it worse. Or better. "You're welcome."
Definitely better, Dean thinks.
And then his mouth continues to run away with him. "Although tonight was an exception."
Cas takes one last pull from his clove, and then puts it out in the dirt of one of his plants. "I'll make it up to you." His eyes track over Dean's body, pausing for a long moment on Dean's hard dick, which isn't hidden at all by the cotton of his boxer briefs. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. Then he lifts his gaze to Dean's again. "In person, if you want. I think it'll be a more satisfying experience for both of us."
With a wink and a lazy salute, he disappears back into his apartment. Leaving Dean shocked as hell, and hard as a damn rock.
Later, when he's back in his room and stroking himself to completion with images of Cas in various compromising positions floating behind his eyes, he knows without a doubt that if the invitation comes to hear Cas' sex and smoke voice in person, he's definitely going to accept. And just to make sure Cas knows it, Dean moans his name loud enough to carry through the thin wall when he comes all over himself.
As hopeful as he is, Dean doesn't actually expect Cas to follow through. So the next night he goes to bed without any expectations. Cas only seems to have someone over once or twice a month, so Dean doesn't even anticipate getting a show from the other side of the wall.
It's Saturday night and he has no plans for the next day other than being as lazy as possible so it's around midnight when he wanders into his room and plops down on his bed. He got tired of waiting for the maintenance guys to come out and fix his a/c so he'd fixed it himself, and his room is almost too cold, but it feels damn good so he's stripped down to his underwear and enjoying the chill.
His mind wanders, and he wonders if Cas is home. He's half tempted to knock on the wall to check, but that would be creepy so he refrains. Instead he just lets the fantasy play out in his mind.
After knocking on the wall, Cas would accept Dean's invitation to come over for a fuck. Maybe they'd have a beer or a smoke first, but his imagination glosses over that and fast forwards to an image of Cas on Dean's bed, on all fours, looking over his shoulder and begging for a tongue in his ass.
Dean's hand slips down the front of his underwear to rub against his hardening dick. He keeps his touch light and teasing as he imagines eating Cas out until his jaw aches. Only then would he give in to Cas' begging and slide his cock into the wet hole he'd opened up with his tongue.
There's a soft moan, and at first Dean thinks it came from him. But then there's another, and he goes still when he realizes it came from the other side of the wall. He holds his breath and focuses all of his attention on any sounds coming from Cas' apartment.
A few seconds later there's another low rumble but this time it's a little louder. And it's a name.
Holy fuck, did he hear that right?
Dean rolls over onto his knees and presses his ear to the wall. "Cas?"
There's a gasp, and then "Hello, Dean."
Dean closes his eyes and tries to imagine what Cas might be doing. "You alone?"
Oh god. "You touching yourself?"
"Fuck, that's hot."
There's a shuffling sound, and the next time Cas' voice comes through the barrier, it's clearer like he's talking right against the wall too. "I'm so horny, Dean."
"Yeah?" Dean's voice is hoarse with arousal. "What are you doing about it?"
"At the moment I'm fucking my fist," Cas grunts, and Dean can picture him up on his knees, cheek against the wall, hand gliding over and around his dick.
"Does it feel good?"
Cas' low moan can probably be translated into a yes, but Dean wants to know for sure. "Tell me, Cas. Tell me how it feels."
"Tight," Cas replies. "Slick."
Goosebumps rise up along Dean's arms and legs, and the muscles in his groin flex. "You're all lubed up, huh?"
"Yeah. So I could fuck myself on this dildo."
This time the pleasured moan comes from Dean's throat. "Is it already inside you?"
There a whimper and then "it is now."
"Oh god, Cas." Dean can imagine Cas with a hand behind him, working the fake cock in his ass, while his other hand provides a slick channel for his own cock to fuck. "That sounds so fucking hot."
"It's not enough."
There's a whining undercurrent to Cas' voice, and it drives Dean half mad with the need to fix whatever's wrong. "What do you need, sweetheart?" The pet name slips off his tongue without thought.
“You, Dean." Cas gasps. "I need you. Come over."
A ripple of excitement runs through Dean’s entire body. “Yeah, Cas. I’ll be over in a minute. Just keep taking care of yourself okay?”
“The door’s unlocked.”
That’s all the motivation Dean needs. He’s off the bed in a flash, and only pauses to pull on a t-shirt and sweatpants so if he runs into anyone awake and outside, they don’t call the cops on him for running around in his skivvies. But he doesn’t bother with shoes. There’s no time. There is a hot man practically rolling around in heat waiting for him, and he has got to get there ten minutes ago.
The door to Castiel’s apartment opens under Dean’s hand, as promised. Any other time, he’d pause and take a look around, but all he registers is dark furniture, and that the layout of the apartment is exactly like his own. Which makes it easier for him to find Cas, although he could just follow the whines and moans he hears coming from the bedroom.
When he finally reaches Cas’ room, he stops in the doorway and just takes in the scene.
Cas is still on his knees with his face pressed against the wall. One hand is gripping his ass, spreading himself open, and the other is working a lime green dildo in and out of himself. The toy, and the pink muscle squeezing it both glisten with lube, and Dean can see it dripping down the back of his balls.
“Oh, sweetheart, look at you,” Dean murmurs.
Cas whimpers and shoves the toy in deep. “Dean… I need you.”
Dean’s feet unstick from the floor and he crosses over to the bed. It sinks below his knees, jostling Cas a little bit, but Dean catches his hip and holds him steady. He brushes away Cas’ hand and grabs the base of the toy. Slowly, he pulls it out, ignoring Cas’ whine of protest. He stares down at the pretty gaping hole, admiring the way it twitches as if begging to be filled again. He gently runs the pad of his thumb along the edge.
“Hold on, Cas.” Dean runs his other hand up Cas’ spine. Up close and in the light he can see the details of Cas’ tattoos now. Chains of arcane symbols that look like some form of writing loop through religious images. An angel and a demon face off against each other from either side of his spine, the word ‘sinner’ hidden in the angel’s robes, and the word ‘saint’ a tattooed on the demon’s bicep. It’s fucking gorgeous, just like the rest of him. “I want to make this good.”
“I saw the size of your dick last night, Dean,” Cas snaps. “It’s gonna be good.”
Dean grins. He knows he’s well endowed, and he’s damn proud of it. But he also knows how to use it properly. “I thought you said we were going to have fun, Cas.”
At that, Cas turns his head enough to glare at Dean over his shoulder. “Fucking is fun.”
“That’s part of it, yeah.” Dean slides his thumb past the rim of Cas’ ass, hooking against it and pulling him open even wider. “And trust me, I am going to enjoy this ass of yours. But I’m gonna play with it a bit first.” His thumb slides free and traces a path down, over Cas’ perineum, pressing in against his prostate, and earning a groan, before he cups Cas’ balls. They’re smooth, either waxed or recently shaved. Dean wants to suck them into his mouth. “And with some other parts of you as well.”
“Shhh…” Dean soothes. “Turn around for me, sweetheart.”
With an annoyed huff, Cas obeys. And Dean gets a look at him in the light for the first time. His eyes are the blue of a deep mountain lake, surrounded by dark lashes and smudged eye-liner. Stubble that’s more than five o’clock shadow, but not quite scruff surrounds his full pink lips, which are currently pressed together in a full blow pout. His jaw is square, and there’s just a hint of a cleft in his chin.
He’s damn pretty is what he is, and Dean is now more than just in lust with him. Now he might be a little bit smitten.
“Heya, Cas,” Dean breathes.
The annoyance leaks from Cas’ expression, and he smiles almost shyly. “Hello.”
“Can I kiss you?”
Cas blinks, surprised by the question. But he nods.
Dean leans in, and brushes their mouths together. Cas’ lips part, but Dean doesn’t take the invitation to delve deeper yet. He keeps the kiss light and teasing, pulling back every time Cas pushes forward. Until Cas eventually climbs right in his lap, wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, and takes the kiss he wants. And now Dean gives him the full experience. Nipping, licking, tongues twining.
And then Cas starts making the sounds that Dean has enjoyed so much. He moans and whimpers. His whole body shudders when Dean runs his tongue across his top lip. And he starts rocking against Dean. Rubbing his body, bare of anything but tattoos, against Dean.
“You should be naked,” Cas grumbles in between kisses.
Ain’t that the truth. But they’ll get there. “Soon,” Dean promises.
Then he grabs Cas by the arms, and pushes him away. He can’t help the smug smile that rises up on his lips at Cas’ dazed look. “Lay back, sweetheart. Let’s play.”
Cas nods, and falls back on the bed. His thighs spread around Dean’s and he starts playing with his own nipples.
“Mmm, that looks good, Cas. Keep doing that.” Dean’s eyes wander over Cas, noting the rest of his tattoos. A rain of grayscale feathers decorates his left pectoral muscles, thinning out as they spread down over his abs. The right side of his chest is a symbol that looks like it’s drawn in blood. The artist who did the work made it look like the symbol is actually carved into Cas’ skin, and Dean is impressed at the artistry. Just below that is three lines of text in that strange language Dean doesn’t recognize.
He reaches out to touch the forget-me-nots low on Cas’s belly. The flowers seem out of place amid all the religious symbolism, but the color is beautiful. There are even more flowers, and more symbols down his thighs and calves. “Someday I’d like to hear the story behind all of these.”
Cas twitches under the light touch. “The short story is that I grew up religious. Almost became a priest.”
Dean’s eyes snap back up to Cas’. “Really?”
“Yeah, but it turns out the church doesn’t accept raging queers.” Cas says it lightly, but there’s a hint of pain underlying the words.
“God isn’t the church,” Dean says softly.
Cas’ smile is warm. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Wow, that got deep in a way that Dean didn’t expect. Clearing his throat, and drops his gaze back down to Cas’ body. He ignores the warm feeling in the vicinity of his heart that Cas’ smile created inside him. His dick is hard and aching, and from the look of things, Cas’ is suffering too. And Dean really wants to do something about that.
“Where’s your lube, Cas?”
It takes Cas a moment to find the tube in the tangle of blankets, but he passes it over. Dean squeezes some onto his fingers then wraps them around Cas’ dick, grinning at the low moan it earns him. He really wants to blow Cas, but he really wants to eat him out, but he also really wants to play with his balls, and he’s suffering from some serious indecision.
He rearranges himself on the bed, laying down on his stomach so that his face is even with Cas’ crotch. He continues to jack him off, slow, his grip loose, and leans in to kiss and tongue at Cas’ balls. The smooth skin feels wonderful against his lips, and Cas tastes like strawberry lube and clean skin.
“Oh my god, Dean,” Cas moans. “Your mouth is so hot. Yeah, suck me right there. Fuck, Dean…”
The litany of dirty encouragement continues, and Dean does his best to follow directions when they’re given. He can feel when Cas gets close to the edge because his dick hardens and his balls tighten, and he makes the most beautiful sounds of distress when Dean backs off at the last second. His bitching makes Dean chuckle, but he doesn’t stop the slow torture.
Yeah, he wants to fuck Cas, but at the moment, Dean is in heaven.
“Dean, I swear to fucking God,” Cas growls after Dean leaves him hanging at the edge again after who knows how long, “if you don’t get your cock in my ass and fuck me right now, there will be Consequences.”
“Ooooh,” Dean says teasingly. “Ominous.”
“Alright, alright.” Dean chuckles and pushes himself back onto his knees. “Hold your damn horses.”
“I am going to smite you,” Cas growls.
Dean winks at him and then pulls his shirt off, tossing it off the side of the bed. “Condoms?”
“Dresser. Top drawer on the right.” Castiel’s words are breathy now that he’s about to get what he wants.
Dean knee walks off the bed, and then hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats and his underwear. He sweeps them off, bending over and giving Cas an up close view of his ass. When he straightens he looks over his shoulder to see Cas’ staring at him with parted lips and a glazed over expression. Hell yeah, he might not be covered in ink, but Dean knows he’s sexy. Now Cas knows it too.
Unwilling to wait any longer himself, Dean hurries to fetch the condoms. He rips one open and rolls it onto his dick on his way back to the bed, then tosses the rest on the mattress next to Cas. He winks at Cas’ lifted eyebrow. “We might need ‘em.”
“God, I hope so,” Cas breathes out. Then he rolls over and gets up on his hands and knees, dipping his spine and presenting his ass. “Come on, Dean. Give me what I want.”
“You got it, Cas.” Dean settles behind Cas and grabs his hips, angling him even further until he has to drop from his hands to his elbows. He slides two fingers into his hole, checking to make sure he’s slick enough, and decides to add more lube.
Luckily the tube is nestled against Cas’ knee and within easy reach. He squeezes some directly onto his dick, and then drops it back on the bed. After spreading it around, he fingers Cas one more time, before guiding himself into Cas’ tight heat.
They both moan loudly as Dean easily sinks in, all the way to the balls.
“Fuck yeah, Dean.” Cas drops his head down on the bed, and rolls his hips. “You have a beautiful cock.”
“You haven’t even seen it up close yet,” Dean points out even as he starts to thrust in opposition to Cas’ movements.
“I can feel it,” Cas mumbles. “God, I can feel every-” he thrusts back hard, making Dean gasp, “-beautiful-” he clenches his inner muscles, and holy fuck Dean’s brain is going to melt if he keeps that up, “-inch.”
Dean tightens his grip on Cas’ hips in an attempt to guide him, but one more squeeze of Cas’ inner muscles and he’s lost. He let’s himself go, fucking hard and deep. Cas meets every thrust, his husky voice alternately encouraging Dean and begging him for more. Dean’s muscles strain to keep up with the demand, but the burn only enhances the pleasure. So does the trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades and down his brows.
Skin slaps against skin, a gorgeous harmony to Cas’ whimpers and moans. And Dean simultaneously feels like he’s going to come any second, and that he could go like this forever. But he can feel the tension building up in his body. Heat coiling in his belly, and jolts of pleasure shooting from his spine through his limbs. He’s about to reach around and jack Cas off to make sure he gets there along with Dean, but before he has a chance, Cas’ whole body goes taut and he let’s out a low wail.
The realization that Cas is coming, on Dean’s dick, with no other stimulation, is all it takes to pull him over the edge too. A shout is punched out of him when his orgasm hits, and he collapses forward over Cas, his weight carrying them both down to the mattress. It jostles him loose, and he whimpers at the loss of Cas’ body heat, but waves of pleasure are still coursing through him. He presses his face between the angel and the demon inked on Cas’ shoulders and breathes through it.
When his limbs no longer feel like over-boiled noodles, he rolls to the side so he’s no longer crushing Cas under his weight. To his surprise, Cas immediately follows him, draping himself over Dean’s chest and pressing his face into the hollow of Dean’s throat.
“That was definitely fun,” Dean once his heartbeat slows and his breathing evens out. His fingers seem to have a mind of their own and are combing through Cas’ hair. It’s intimate, but Cas seems to like it if the breathy noises he makes every so often are any indication. “I’d say you definitely made up for last night.”
Cas snorts. “Fun? You call that ‘fun’? That was probably the best orgasm of my life. I think I owe you my soul now, or something.”
“Naw. But maybe we could do it again some time.” Dean pauses, unsure if he should proceed with his thought process. But then thinks fuck it because that seems to be the best course of action when it comes to interacting with Cas. It’s been nothing but good so far. “And maybe dinner and a movie too.”
There’s a moment of quiet, and Dean worries at his bottom lip, wondering if he went too far. “I hope you’re talking about an actual date,” Cas says after a moment. “Because that’s what I’d like it to be.”
Dean lets out a breath, and smiles. “Hell yeah, Cas. I’m talking about a date.”
“Good. We can exchange numbers before you leave in the morning.” Dean’s heart flutters happily over the fact that Cas expects him to stay the night. “Because knocking on your wall probably isn’t the best way to get your attention.”
Dean laughs. “Yeah, true.” He pets Cas’ hair for another moment before curiosity gets the best of him. “The best orgasm of your life? Really? You’re not just saying that because the dude last night was so boring, are you?”
Cas makes a low sound of disgust. “No, I’m not. Although Buck was definitely the lowest point in my experience.”
“His name is Buck, and you still brought him home?” Dean teases. “Come on, man. He’s totally overcompensating for something.”
“Oh trust me, he was,” Cas laments. He lifts his head, and gives Dean a sweet smile. “Honestly though, I’m kind of glad I met him. I may never have met you if it weren’t for him.”
Dean ignores the little ball of warmth hugging his heart at the sight of that smile, instead rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. I guess I’m grateful for him too.”
Cas laughs and puts his head back down on Dean’s chest. They trace lazy patterns on each other’s skin, and talk about tattoos and favorite foods, and jobs, and hobbies. They eventually fall asleep with the lights on, and their skin sticking together with drying sweat and lube. In the morning - late morning, because it was probably close to dawn when they dozed off - they share a shower, and breakfast. Numbers get exchanged, but Dean doesn’t leave until they’ve watched a few movies, eaten lunch, and fucked two more times.
That night Dean goes to bed alone, but with plans to see Cas in a few days for dinner. Just before sleep slips over him there’s a soft knock on the wall near his head.
Dean smiles. “‘Night, Cas.”
Thin apartment walls are kind of awesome.