Twist and Shout [not mine]

Chapter 4

November, 1967

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It was strange how a three day promise could get lost. Cas was swamped with work and Dean was out every weekend racing or prepping or outfitting bikes at Bobby's garage. Cas didn't mind that their interaction usually consisted of watching the new Star Trek together while he memorized medical terminology, but with the end of the summer came the end of Dean's racing season. Dean loafed around the apartment, pecking out of the fridge and complaining about how cold it was going to get in only a few weeks, between shifts at the bar. He cooked more, at least, and he was really only unbearable until the Twilight Zone came on. Cas' complaints were few.

He was merely silly at best, and intolerably needy at his worst.

"You think I'm as good looking as William Shatner?" he asked, leaning between Cas' legs, both of them crammed on the couch, Cas trying to jot down something about Shakespeare. The university was cruel and forcing him into English classes to make him well rounded. He had no interest in Shakespeare unless Shakespeare had written something on how to pass his chemistry class while still having time to write critical analysis essays.

"Anything is possible," Cas replied, resting the back of his book on Dean's head, scrawling something on his legal pad. Dean snorted indignantly, popping a pez from the dispenser in his hand. Cas heard the crunch of the candy as he chewed it.

"Watch this one. It's got the creepy doll. William Shatner isn't in it though," Dean insisted as the opening to the Twilight Zone kicked in. When Cas didn't respond he knocked his elbow into Cas' leg.

"Dean, I can't. I'm studying."

"You study all the time, come on and watch with me. I barely see your face because it's always in a damn book," Dean whined, reaching blindly behind him to swat at the volume. Cas rolled his eyes and kept reading, pulling the book out of Dean's reach.

"Go find something to do," he sighed, tapping his pencil against his chin.

"Let's fool around," Dean twisted, looking at Cas who refused to make eye contact. "Come on," he jabbed. "Come on, let's make out or something."

"Dean, what am I going to do when I tell my patients I can't help them because I was too busy having my dick sucked by my boyfriend?" Cas grumbled, trying to concentrate.

"I don't know. Your boyfriend is really good looking. He's really cute, and he can ride a motorcycle, and he can do all sorts of fun things." Cas became vaguely aware of the fingers walking up the back spine of his book and creeping over the edge. "If you cooperate I'll give you a pez," Dean continued, clicking another candy out.

"You are absolutely depraved. I can't fool around with you right now," Cas groaned, tapping Dean's forehead with the pencil. "Please go find something else to do before I lose my mind?"

"I already know what I want to do. I want you to come with me and we'll go on the bed and turn off the light and you'll let me put my hand in your pants."

Cas didn't gratify him with a response and Dean pouted, resting his cheek against Cas' knee for a while.

"You doing anything this weekend?" he asked out of nowhere and Cas' brow wrinkled. He glanced up from his notes and resigned himself to giving Dean his attention.

"You know I'm not. Why do you ask?"

Dean turned back around, stretching his legs out, head pillowed by Cas' stomach while he watched TV.

"You probably wouldn't want to because you have a book to read."

"Dean," Cas said, shaking his head. "What? What did you have planned? We just went out to the country two weeks ago."