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The Last Resort

Chapter 7

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Somehow, the confrontation and banishment ritual failed to attract any undue attention, which means that for once the Winchesters don't need to hightail it out of town after wrapping up the case.

"Y'know," Dean says. "We do have two more days left on our reservation. We might as well enjoy them. Have a real vacation. Sam, you should check yourself into a better hotel, too, someplace on the beach."

"Actually"—Sam pulls a rueful face—"in order to come help you, I kind of had to…check in here. I'm in the east tower block." He holds up his arm to display the wristband now wrapped around it.

The look on Sam's face is so comical that Dean throws back his head and laughs. "Well," he says, seeing a bunch of guys who have stopped in their tracks, interest clear on their faces, upon noticing his giant baby brother. "I can tell you're gonna be real popular here."

"Dean." Cas's reprimand lacks any heat and Dean turns his grin on him.

"So, now that we're properly on vacation, what do you want to do first?"

“Whatever you want to do,” Cas says, so promptly that Dean doesn’t doubt that that’s true.

Probably Cas is expecting him to choose something like renting jet-skis—and Dean does fully intend to do so while they’re here—but for right now…“Actually, I kinda wanted to check out the spa.” He ignores the incredulous look Sam gives him to ask, “What do you say, Cas? Want to get pampered?” Dammit, they deserve nice things.

Cas’s look is softer than the question merits, as if he’d heard Dean’s thoughts as well. “That sounds wonderful.”

Sam still looks like he's on the verge of saying something, so Dean takes defensive action. He winks, broad and cheesy at Cas, and says, drawing out the innuendo, "Hey, maybe we can get facials. We're in the right place for it."

He sees the moment it hits Sam, and smirks.

Cas gives him a narrow-eyed look of disapproval, but Dean's pretty sure he can see amusement lurking just under the surface, so he's not too worried.

Cas is more polite than Dean. "Would you like to join us, Sam?"

Nevertheless, he doesn't look overly disappointed when Sam turns him down. 

"No, that's alright, thanks. I think I'll find out where to get one of those kale smoothies I've seen and head back to my room. Now that the fairy is banished, Rowena and I can focus on reversing the aging. It should be simple now we know that it was caused by dimensional displacement. But, uh, you two have fun."

"Nerd," Dean teases affectionately.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam dismisses him with a laugh. "Go enjoy your pampering, princess."

"I will," Dean says, catching Cas's wrist in his hand and raising the other in a wave.

Sometime later, after he's been steamed, massaged, pedicured, and just generally molded into a pile of comfortable jelly, Dean glances over at Cas beside him. Like Dean, Cas is wearing a robe and a face mask of weird green clay. Like Dean, a towel is wrapped turban-style over his hair. He looks ridiculous and contented and ridiculously human, and Dean knows.

I'm going to tell him, he thinks and begins to formulate a plan.

~

 

In the end, Dean doesn't need to do anything to put his plan into action. It’s Cas who suggests they go back to the karaoke bar that evening. 

“Sam is unlikely to be subject to unwanted attention there,” he says.

"Especially if they hear him sing," Dean jokes, but he gets the sneaking suspicion that the suggestion is as much for Dean’s enjoyment as Sam’s comfort, and his heart feels unreasonably warm.

They arrive during the ending strains of Heartbreaker and snag a table about halfway back from the stage.

"I don't know about you fellas," Dean announces, "but I plan on singing." He ignores Sam's exaggerated groan in favour of Cas's beaming smile. "I'm gonna go get my name on the list and snag us some beers. Sit tight." He raps his knuckles once on the table for luck and hurries off before he can second guess himself.

He gets his name on the list, and his song choice. It may not be the typical karaoke choice, but it feels fitting. That done, he detours to the bar.

It's on his way back to their table, three beers in hand, that Dean nearly collides with a warm body. 

"Sorry, man," he says, stepping back. Luckily, none of the beers have spilled.

"No worries." It's Jacob, who goes in for a hug without shame. "Hey, Dean. It's good to run into you."

"Yeah, you too." Dean finds he genuinely means it. As much as he and Cas still have things to address about what had happened and where they stand, the encounter the other night had been awesome, and Dean owes Jacob a debt of gratitude for getting him that far with Cas at all. "What's up?" he asks. "You working in this bar too?"

"Nah." Jacob lifts his own beer to his lips and takes a sip. "It's my night off, but I love karaoke, so I like to come here. I'm meeting my friend Juan in a bit."

Jacob's grin really does make his handsome face even more attractive. If it weren't for Cas, Dean would definitely be considering another go in the sheets, but as much fun as it was, Dean's pretty sure any next steps are for him and Cas to take, just the two of them. 

"How about you?" Jacob asks. He drops his voice. "How's your hunt going? Is that tall guy at your table a suspect?"

Dean chuckles. "Nah, that's my brother. He checked in today to help us wrap things up. It was some asshole fairy, if you can believe it, but it's all taken care of now."

"A fairy," Jacob repeats. "Those are real?"

"Sure," Dean agrees easily. "Most things are, except Bigfoot. Closest you're gonna get to that is my brother. Come on over, I'll introduce you. Cas'll be glad to see you too."

He's right. Cas's eyes find Dean first, and his face seems to light up—a good sign—and then Dean says, "Hey, look who I found," and Cas's smile widens, becomes that crooked, awkward smile Dean adores as he rises from the table to meet Jacob's easy embrace.

"Jacob, this is my brother, Sam," Dean introduces when they part. "Sammy, this is Jacob. He knows the score."

Sam's eyes dart from Jacob to Dean to Cas and he gives a little cough. "You, uh, you told him…?"

"Sure," Dean says with an easy shrug, as if they let civilians in on their secrets all the time. "He's cool."

"Honesty seemed like the best policy, given the circumstances," Cas offers helpfully.

"Given the…" Sam repeats under his breath, something like suspicion in his eyes, but then he gives himself a little shake, letting it go. "So, uh, Jacob, how did you meet my brother and Cas?"

They chit chat pleasantly through the next few songs, until Jacob spies his friend through the crowd. "It was good meeting you, Sam," he excuses himself. To Dean and Cas, he adds, "If you're staying a little longer, don't be strangers."

He disappears with a wave, and Dean lifts his beer to his lips. But whatever reprieve he thought he had from Sam's suspicions seems to be over, because as soon as Jacob is out of earshot, Sam leans in and hisses, "Oh my god, did you hook up with him? What about Cas? Did you really abandon him to—?"

Dean clears his throat, not meeting his brother's eyes, but it's Cas's pinkening face and his muttered "You remember our cover story" that gives them away.

Sam looks from one to the other. "Are you telling me you hooked up with him together?! What—"

Before Sam can say anything more, Dean's fake name is called, and he makes his escape, bounding up on stage.

The music starts and he sings.

"If the sun refused to shine,
I would still be loving you."

He'd been surprised that they'd had his first choice of song, had several backup choices picked on that likelihood. It's not at all a typical karaoke song, but he's chosen it anyway because, more than anything else, it says what he wants to say. He'd put it on Cas's mixtape for the same reason, but this time, he'll make sure Cas gets the message.

"And so today my world—it smiles,
Your hand in mine, we walk the miles,
Thanks to you it will be done,
For you to me are the only one."

He holds Cas's gaze through the crowd, sings only to him, wills him to understand, to know that this is Dean's truth. Their truth.

"If the sun refused to shine,
I would still be loving you.
Mountains crumble to the sea,
There will still be you and me."

As the music fades, Dean's heart is in his throat, his eyes still holding Cas.

It seems that Cas gets the message, because as soon as Dean hops off the stage, Cas is surging through the crowd, eyes locked on Dean. As soon as he's close enough, he grabs him by the collar of his shirt and hauls him into a messy kiss.

Dean's startlement lasts only a moment before he's kissing back, just as deep and hungry as Cas. When they pull apart, chests heaving, Dean loops his hands around the back of Cas's neck, keeping him close.

"Didn't know I was that good a singer. Earned myself a groupie." Dean teases with a grin. 

The look Cas fixes on him is fond but exasperated. "You know you sing very well, when you're not pretending otherwise. But I didn't kiss you for your voice."

"No?" Dean smooths one of his thumbs over the skin behind Cas's ear, searching his gaze with his own.

"Did you mean it?" Cas asks, sounding suddenly shy. "The song?"

Oh. Oh.

"Yeah," Dean says, voice cracking slightly. "Of course. Cas…you know I'm not great at saying things with words, but you've gotta know, right? That I love you?"

Cas, there's no other word for it, melts. His eyes go soft and shiny, his mouth slackens into a shape halfway between a smile and an O of surprise. He looks almost beatific. He looks beautiful. 

Dean has no choice but to kiss him again.

When they part this time, Cas's eyes flutter open and gaze into Dean's. "Just so we're clear," he says, voice more gravelly than usual, "I love you too."

That merits more kissing, but an off-key warble interrupts them, reminding Dean that they're still in the middle of the karaoke bar. "Want to get out of here?" he asks.

It's Cas who remembers that they're not here alone. "What about Sam?" he asks.

Dean glances back at their table, where Sam sits alone with a beer, eyes politely fixed on the bad singer on stage, very deliberately avoiding looking towards the space where Dean and Cas have been doing their best to make up for the last twelve years’ worth of missed kisses.

"Aw, Sammy's a big boy," Dean says. "We'll let him know we're going, and he can decide if he wants to stick around or if this isn't his scene."

Cas doesn't put up a fight, agreeing with flattering alacrity, as if he's as eager to get Dean back to their room and their bed as Dean is him. Dean takes his hand and tugs him gently in the direction of their table.

"Heya, Sammy," he greets his brother, leaning against the back of the high-top chair. "Just so you know, Cas and I are gonna get out of here, celebrate the fact that we're in love and all that." 

He gives Cas's hand a squeeze as Sam's eyes widen.

"That's, uh—congratulations, guys." 

"Thank you, Sam." Cas sidles up closer, presses against Dean's side. "Are you ready to go, Dean?"

"Yeah, buddy." And because Dean can't resist putting that look on his brother's face, he adds. "Let's go do the horizontal tango."

The way Sam's face twists in dismay is a thing of beauty.

~

 

They walk just a little too fast on their way back to their room, press just a little too close, the opposite of inconspicuous. Anyone looking at them would be able to tell exactly what they're planning on doing. 

Dean doesn't care. He's got Cas's hand tangled in his, the same restrained eagerness in every line of Cas's body as he has in his own. It's a giddy feeling, knowing Cas wants him as much as he wants Cas.

They barely get their door closed behind them, before Cas is framing Dean's face in his hands and kissing him again for all he's worth, pressing him up against the glass. Dean kisses back just as hungrily, getting a hand in Cas's hair and a handful of his ass with the other one, pulling Cas against him. 

Cas makes a muffled noise into Dean's mouth and rocks his hips, his already hard cock evident where it presses against Dean. Dean is rapidly hardening, too, and he nips at Cas's lip while urging his hips into a rhythm.

"Dean," Cas half-pants, half-growls, pulling out of the kiss to bury his face in Dean's shoulder. "I want you to fuck me."

Fuck. Dean's hips stutter hard at that, his cock leaping at the vulgar request coming out of Cas's mouth.

" Hell fucking yes ," he growls, tugging Cas's mouth back up to with the hand buried in Cas's hair. He kisses him quick and hard, then gives Cas a little push backwards towards the bed. "Clothes."

As Cas tugs his t-shirt over his head, Dean finds the presence of mind to yank the gauzy layer of the curtains closed. It's only a modicum of privacy, but better than nothing. He turns back to see Cas with his hand on the button of his jeans, already looking disheveled and debauched. It's all Dean can do to keep from falling to his knees before Cas, so he doesn't stop himself, pushing Cas's hands away to unfasten his jeans himself, working them and his underwear down Cas's sinful thighs, letting his cock spring free and leave a smear of precome across Dean's cheek. Dean groans and buries his face in the crease of Cas's groin, breathing deep of the musky, human smell of Cas to center himself. 

When he sits back, Cas is watching him wide-eyed, an almost stunned look painted across his face, like he can't quite believe Dean is really his, that he really gets to have this. Dean understands. He feels the same about Cas.

"Hey." He drops a kiss on one hipbone, begins gently working Cas's pants and underwear further down his legs. "I love you." He taps one foot. "Lift up." 

Bracing a hand on Dean's shoulder for balance, Cas lifts first one foot, then the other, so that Dean can remove his shoes and his jeans. Dean tosses the jeans off to a corner and sits back on his heels to admire Cas, naked before him.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he murmurs and watches a shudder run through Cas's body.

Dean shucks his shirt over his head to parts unknown, and getting a grip on the backs of Cas's thighs, leans in and takes Cas in his mouth.

"Dean." It sounds like 'I love you.' " Dean ," Cas repeats, and it sounds like he's praying. 

Dean hums his approval around the cock filling his mouth, savours the salty taste of precome, the aborted little thrusts Cas can't help but make. Making Cas feel good has become the whole of his being. He pulls off, slides his tongue around the head while Cas chokes on a moan, then plunges back down. When he hollows his cheeks and sucks, Cas's knees nearly buckle.

Dean steadies him with his grip and pulls back, fully this time. Cas's face is flushed, his eyes shining, his bottom lip red where he's bitten into it.

Dean gets to his feet, a trickier manoeuver than it should be, thanks to his own rock-hard cock demanding his attention in his jeans. He kisses Cas once, lets him taste himself, and urges, "Let's get on the bed."

Cas goes, pulling himself backwards over the snowy white bedclothes, while Dean shoves his own pants down and kicks them away along with his boots. He reaches for the hand Cas stretches out to him and crawls after him onto the bed.

They kiss again for long minutes, sinking into the plush bedding as Dean attempts to pour all the love he feels for Cas in through his mouth. It feels like a miracle to have Cas pressed against him like this, tangled together skin-to-skin with nothing between them except the love that has always been there. What has Dean done that he gets to have this?

When the heat builds between them again, Dean sits back at last, but not before fishing the lube that Jacob had left behind two nights ago, that's been sitting there ever since, off the nightstand. Holding Cas's gaze, he slicks up his fingers and moves them between Cas's legs, as he bends to take Cas's cock in his mouth once again. 

The first press of Dean's fingertip to Cas's hole has him arching off the bed, and he spreads his legs wider to give Dean room to work. Cas is incredibly hot and tight inside, pressing back on Dean's finger like he's been doing this for years and demanding more. He doesn't need any help to relax, it seems, but that doesn't stop Dean from sliding in a second finger and scissoring them apart, just so he can watch Cas's face when he feels that stretch. He's rewarded by the way Cas's eyes roll back and his cock releases another spurt of precome on Dean's tongue, so he does it again.

"Please." Cas pushes himself up on his elbows, chest heaving and eyes wild. "Please, Dean. I need you inside me."

Christ. Who is Dean to ignore a plea like that? Not when his own cock is hard enough to hammer nails, not when Cas is looking at him like that. Hastily, he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the bedding while Cas lets out a moan at the sudden emptiness. It's the work of a moment to squirt fresh lube into his hand and slick up his cock, and then Dean is lining himself up with Cas's entrance and pushing forward.

The noise Cas makes when Dean enters him will live in Dean's dreams for the rest of his life. 

Cas's head drops back into the pillows and Dean follows him down, seeking out his mouth and kissing him deep as his body adjusts to the overwhelming sensation. 

If he'd thought Cas felt good around his fingers, it's nothing on the way he squeezes hot around Dean's cock. If Dean were a younger man, he'd have been gone the second he pressed inside him.

"Cas," he mumbles against Cas's lips. " Cas." He doesn't have any other words.

When he finally gets his bearings and begins to move, it's like transcending to another dimension. Cas's hands are on his shoulders, his hips rolling up to meet Dean's, his mouth hungry and worshipful against Dean's own, and Dean strives to worship Cas with his body in return.

"I've wanted you so long," he pants, and Cas nods with his face pressed against Dean's shoulder.

"You're the most perfect"—Cas bites off a groan as Dean finds his prostate—"the most loving man I've ever met." He gasps as Dean does it again, and his hand seeks out Dean's face, cupping his cheek, so that Dean is forced to look into his eyes. "I love you," he says between gasps and Dean's hips stutter sharply as he tips over the edge, face going stunned and slack as he gazes into Cas's eyes the whole time.

When he becomes oversensitive, Dean pulls out, landing with his weight on Cas. While Dean is recovering, Cas wiggles a hand between them to take hold of his own cock, but Dean quickly catches on. Sitting up, Dean bats Cas's hand away and takes over, stroking Cas and lavishing his hipbones with kisses and nips. When Cas groans and pushes his cock harder into the tunnel of Dean's fist, Dean slips the fingers of his other hand into Cas's hole, unerringly finding his prostate and pressing. 

"C'mon, buddy," he croons, drawing Cas ever closer to the edge with his hands. "Let me see you come for me. Come for me, Cas."

Cas does, body bowing, the expression on his face sublime, as he coats Dean's hand in his release. Dean strokes him through it, let's Cas reach for him with clumsy hands and draw him back to his mouth, kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, until all that is left is to collapse beside each other on the dishevelled sheets, still breathing heavily and smiling uncontrollably, their hands linked.

Dean tugs Cas closer and he moves with him, draping himself along Dean's left side. They're sticky and sweaty and disgusting, but Dean doesn't care. He's got the love he never thought he'd have, right here, and he has no intention of ever letting it go again.

"Mmm." He smiles into Cas's hair. "If I'd known this is what would happen if I told you how I felt, I would have done it years ago." He smooths a hand down Cas's back, feels him snuggle closer against him. "I love you, Cas," he says again, for the sheer joy of it.

Cas hums against his skin. "And I, you, Dean."

~

 

For two days, they make the most of their vacation—a real vacation, including jet skis, but also burying their toes in the sand. Dean has the added bonus he'd never expected, of getting to keep his arm around Cas, or his hand in his. He gets to go to bed with him at night, hold him close, kiss him. It's damn near perfect.

As Dean predicted, Sam is a big hit at Araucaria. Dean delights in watching his little big brother flail trying to deflect attention without admitting he's straight. Cas nudges him more than once, with a murmured "Be nice," but Dean's pretty sure Cas is at least a little amused as well.

They leave the resort on Monday morning, after one last expedition to the breakfast buffet. Sam, who joins them from his own room, raves over his smoothie and egg white frittata, while Dean and Cas load their plates up with the usual breakfast meats and sweets. Cas opts for Belgian waffles loaded with whipped cream and feeds Dean a bite from his plate. Dean accepts with a smug smile in his long-suffering brother's direction.

Sam shakes his head. "I'm so glad I don't have to drive back with you two."

"Hey," Dean says, "I'm not complaining. Maybe we'll try out road head. Whaddya say, Cas?" 

Now Cas fixes Dean with a look as long-suffering as Sam's. It makes Dean feel positively gleeful. "Absolutely not, Dean. That's far too dangerous."

Dean laughs. "Don't worry, I'm just messing around. The looks on your faces—" He shakes his head grinning. In reality, he's looking forward to the drive alone with Cas for much simpler reasons—listening to their mixtape, holding his hand, maybe feeling Cas's head rest on his shoulder as Baby eats up miles and miles of road. He can't think of anything better.

After one last sweep of their room, Dean and Cas turn in their keycards and carry their duffle bags back out to the Impala.

"Hey, Baby." Dean lays a hand on sun-warmed metal. "Miss me?" 

Cas watches indulgently as Dean gives Baby one last pat before opening up the trunk and tossing his back inside. He holds out his hands for Cas's, and Cas passes it over.

"C'mon," Dean says. "Let's drive."

It's hot in the car from the Florida heat, so Dean cranks down his window first thing and Cas does the same. Dean sticks the key in the ignition but pauses before turning it. He glances down at his left hand, fingering the ring with his right.

"Guess we don't need to keep wearing these," he says, but makes no move to take it off. He rubs his finger over the smooth metal and glances at Cas out of the corner of his eye.

Cas is examining his own ring, his eyes soft. "If you don't mind," he says, "I think I'd like to keep mine." He raises his eyes to meet Dean's.

"Yeah?" Dean swallows.

"Yes," Cas says. 

Dean glances down at his ring again, feels his lips curving upwards. "Then I guess I'd better keep wearing mine, too, huh?" He gives the metal an affectionate stroke. "You know, by hunter standards, this makes us as good as married." He raises his head to meet Cas's gaze again.

"Good." Cas's voice is decisive and his eyes are warm. Dean tugs him in for a slow, lush kiss.

When their lips part, Cas settles in close beside him, their shoulders touching, and Dean turns the key.

~

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