Dec 31, Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, Carry On Wayward Son Title: Carry On Wayward Son Fandom: Supernatural Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel Rating/Warnings: Explicit Disclaimer:here Prompt:this picture Summary: What started as hiding out from the God Squad somehow turned into a vacation in the mountains of Montana. Sometimes good things did happen. Who knew? A/N: Sorry this one took so long. Title should be no surprise for a finale and comes, of course, from this Kansas song. A YouTube playlist of all the songs I used for the titles of the fics in this series (plus the show's end credit song as a bonus) can be found here.
“Five more minutes, Sammy,” Dean muttered against the pillow, burrowing his face in further against the light.
“Sleep as long as you need, Dean,” came the reply that reverberated through the pillow that was, come to think of it, a lot warmer and firmer than it probably should have been.
That's when Dean realized where he was and with whom. Strong arms surrounded him and fingers were buried in his hair, softly stroking as if to soothe him back to sleep. It would be so tempting to let them.
The arms around him tightened briefly. “You were up for almost two full days, Dean, followed by what an average human would consider a single night's sleep. You are allowed to rest.”
“Shit, I slept that long?” Dean rolled away and scrubbed at his eyes, still not ready to deal with the sunlight coming in the window. “Dammit, why didn't we ever put in curtains or shades or something?”
“The window does have curtains, Dean,” Cas said, amusement in his voice.
“Well, they're crappy curtains. We need to get some better ones. What kind of hideout has see-through curtains?”
“Are you expecting an answer?”
Dean laughed. “No.” Then he realized something. “Oh, shit, Sammy! I was supposed to call when we got here!”
“I called your brother while you were sleeping,” Cas said, propping himself up on one elbow. “Other than the power outage, there have been no further signs of supernatural activity in Manhattan, Kansas nor anywhere in Montana.”
“Power outage? You took out more than that one store?” Dean wasn't sure whether to be impressed or horrified.
“Apparently.” Cas sounded annoyed with himself.
Well, he should. Stunt like that could've gotten him caught or worse.
“Well, that's good news anyway. He say anything else?”
“Yes. Specifically, and I quote, 'Make him take some down time already. Nothing's happening, and even if it did, we've got it covered.' He also wished us a happy new year and suggested we not return until at least January second.”
Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Three days off? Hell, he'd been stuck in this cabin three weeks with a broken leg before. Yeah, he could do three days, especially if the God Squad really hadn't followed them, and he said as much.
Cas seemed pleased.
Dean should probably get up and make some breakfast. Possibly brush his teeth. Definitely take a leak. He groaned and pushed himself up. Ugh, he was still in yesterday's clothes. He really had been tired.
“There is no reason to get up if you want to rest longer,” Cas said.
“Tell that to my bladder,” Dean retorted. “C'mon, scoot.”
Cas got up and even held the covers aside for Dean to climb out. That was when Dean noticed Cas was still in his suit, minus the trench coat, which was lying on the bed. Dean cocked an eyebrow at that, but he needed to get to the bathroom more than he needed an answer to that.
Once he'd taken care of that, Dean proceeded to wash his hands, splash water on his face, and brush his teeth. That's when he noticed the new addition to the mirror. Across the top and along the sides ran a string of gold beads and balls with a star centered at the top of the mirror.
“Where'd you even find that?” Dean asked when he ventured back into the bedroom.
“In a box in the basement,” Cas replied with a shrug. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing his suit but not the coat or his shoes. “It has no special properties, but was in with several other items useful against various monsters.”
“Huh.” Dean decided it wasn't all that important. “Looks kind of nice there.”
“Thank you, Dean.” Cas smiled, looking at him expectantly.
Oh, so it was up to Dean what to do now. Breakfast probably should be next, but he wasn't as hungry as he probably should be. That might have more to do with knowing what there was to work with in the cabinets. They hadn't made a supply stop, and so there were just the “camper's special” packs he and Sam had stocked the place with last time they were here. They'd do, but they didn't exactly tempt his appetite.
Not like the sight of Cas sitting there on the unmade bed looking rumpled. The coat lying on the bed gave Dean some idea what had led to Cas joining him last night, that and the fact he'd actually slept close to ten hours. He knew Cas didn't actually get bored, not in the human sense anyway, but there was something about the idea of him choosing to spend that length of time doing nothing but holding Dean's nightmares at bay that sent a strange slithering sensation down his spine.
In a few strides, Dean stood in front of Cas where he sat. He framed the angel's face in his hands and brought their lips together. He kept it light at first, a simple “good morning.” There was no chance of it staying that way, however, as Cas used the belt loops of Dean's jeans to pull him closer. Dean couldn't help the groan that escaped him at that, and it was all over from there.
Peeling Cas out of his suit was one of Dean's favorite things, right up there with Cas peeling Dean out of whatever he was wearing. They had all the time in the world, so Dean relished every bit of it, from undoing the knot on Cas' tie to working each button of his shirt open to sliding his dress pants and underwear down over his hips separately. Cas seemed less patient as he pulled Dean's t-shirt and button-down off together and the same for his jeans and underwear. Dean wasn't about to complain, though, because his most favorite thing was both of them being naked anyway.
Dean pressed Cas backward onto the bed, climbing over him, only to find himself getting flipped onto his back.
“Oh, you think so?”
A wrestling match ensued on the too-small bed, which creaked alarmingly when one or the other landed hard. Finally, Dean had Cas on his back, wrists pinned above his head. While he didn't doubt for a second that Cas could not only break free but squash him like an ant if he wanted to, frankly, the fact that he could but didn't was half the turn-on.
“Tell me while you were decorating, you made sure we had other supplies,” Dean growled at him.
Cas nodded but didn't say anything.
“You gonna tell me where?”
Cas just gave him one of his looks, and Dean realized it had to be somewhere obvious. Letting go of one of Cas' hands, he reached under the pillow and found what he was looking for. That, however, apparently was a signal for Cas to stop being so compliant, and before he knew what was happening, Dean was on his back again, and the bottle of lube was in Cas' hand.
Who knew an angel could look so wicked? As Cas opened him up, Dean held his gaze, his breath escaping in gasps and the occasional moan, until he couldn't take it anymore, letting his head fall back against the pillow and just rolling with the sensations. He was almost completely caught off guard, then, when Cas suddenly took Dean into his mouth. Reflexively, Dean stuffed a fist in his mouth, forgetting there was no one else to hear for miles, as he buried the fingers of the other hand in Cas' hair.
After only a minute or two, though, he tugged at Cas' hair until the angel got the hint and worked his way up Dean's body before planting a searing kiss on his lips. Their cocks slid together, and Dean fought against the urge to thrust, not altogether successfully. He didn't want to come yet, not like this, so he took advantage of Cas' distraction to roll them again and get hold of the damn bottle.
“What do you think you're doing, Dean?”
“What does it look like I'm doing, Cas?” Dean cocked an eyebrow as he warmed a small amount of lube in his hand and used it to slick Cas' cock, grinning as the angel moaned wantonly.
It was tempting to just keep at that, jerk Cas until he came undone, but that wasn't what Dean wanted right now. Instead, he lined himself up and guided the angel's cock into him, groaning as his body stretched and adjusted. He looked down at Cas' eyes, rings of sapphire around pupils blown wide with lust.
“Dean,” Cas ground out.
Dean leaned forward to shut him up before he could say anything else, and then there was nothing but movement. He felt Cas plant his feet against the mattress for better leverage and grab Dean's hips, and then all Dean could do was hold on for the ride as Cas thrust up into him, nailing his prostate every time. Soon every nerve in Dean's body was practically singing with pleasure, as Cas drove him to and kept him at the edge for what seemed like forever. There was definitely something to be said for angelic endurance, but Dean was fast approaching his human limit.
He tried to free up a hand, but there was no way, not with Cas keeping up this pace. The angel noticed or just knew, though, because a hand slid from Dean's hip to his cock, and with only a couple of quick pulls, Dean felt a wave of ecstasy surge through him as he came. He whited out for a second and was still gasping for breath as Cas finally cried out and followed.
Boneless, Dean let himself collapse onto Cas, who shifted slightly to bring his arms around Dean. After a moment, Cas slipped out of him and rolled them both onto their sides, pulling the scratchy covers up over them. Dean tried to make a mental note to get better sheets for the cabin, but he knew that was probably a lost cause. Nothing was going to stick in his brain right now, and he really didn't care. He stifled a yawn.
“What the hell?” he asked.
“It is not unusual for you to be tired after sexual intercourse,” Cas said.
“It is after sleeping twice as long as I usually do.” Dean tried to convince himself to sit up and failed.
“There is no reason to fight it, Dean. We have the time, and you have more than earned the right to rest.” Cas tightened his arms around Dean's ribs.
“It is warmer under the covers,” Dean mumbled.
The sound of Cas chuckling was the last thing Dean heard as he gave in to the urge to sleep.
Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more.