What the Righteous Man Wanted (1 of 3)

Chapter Four

"Dean," Lisa moans, her bare chest pressed snugly down Dean's. They are in the car on some dirt-paved side road. Dean's hands are heavy on her, dragging over her hips, her ass, her breasts. He is trying to enjoy the curves instead of wish they weren't there. He is trying to enjoy that she smells like perfume instead of cologne. He is trying to enjoy that she is Lisa instead of Cas. It's not working so well, and she can tell. She grinds down hard on Dean, his pants still zipped and comfortable. "I want you so fucking bad," she moans, running her hands through Dean's hair, pulling him this way and that. Control and dirty talk. Two of Dean's favorite things, but still, when he looks up and sees brown eyes instead of blue, he knows he's fucked. And not in the fun way.

"Lisa," he says, and the tone is enough to bring her grinding to a stop. "I don't think I can do this."

"What? Why?" she asks, leaning back so that they are no longer pressed together.

"I don't know," he says, rubbing a hand down his face. He feels like a failure. One make-out session with a guy and now he can't get it up for his fucking hot girlfriend. Thanks a lot, Cas. Dean watches as Lisa moves off of him and begins to put her bra back, disappoint set firmly into her motions.

"Was it me? I know I gained three pounds, but," she starts, watching him sadly with her hands in her lap. Dean cuts her off.

"No, no. You're perfect," he tells her, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "I think I'm just too stressed."

"Sex is a great stress reliever," she says, leaning forward and catching her lips between Dean's. Even that feels wrong.

"I know," he says, pulling away softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me," but he does. Castiel Fucking Milton is what's wrong with me, he thinks viciously, lifting his shirt violently off the ground and pulling it on. Lisa pouts for a moment before resuming getting dressed and crawling back up front to go get Sam. When they get back to Ellen's, they find the lovebirds still curled into that little booth, talking like they haven't known each other since preschool.

"Hey, Sammy," he says, stepping forward because he doesn't want to play games anymore. "Are you two ready to go?"

"Awe, Dean," Sammy says, throwing on his big puppy dog eyes. "Do we have to?"

"Yeah, Dad'll be home soon. We don't want him worrying about you."

"Not like he'd notice anyway," Sam mumbles before glancing back to Jessica. "Could Jess come over for a little bit?" Dean shrugs nonchalantly, mentally cheering because his brother actually has a pair.

"It's cool with me if it's cool with her parents," he says, taking Lisa's hand into his with an absent smile in her direction.

"Actually," Jess says, and Sam's eyes snap back to her. "My mom said I had to be home by dinner." Upon seeing Sam's disappointment, she adds a soft apology.

"Nah, it's cool. I'll take both of you beautiful ladies home," Dean offers when Sam says nothing. "See you, Ellen," he calls, bringing his free hand up in a wave in her direction.

"Bye, boys. You be careful out on that road, you hear me, Dean Winchester?" she calls, her hands on her hips next to her customer.

"Yes ma'am," Dean says with a smile, opening the door for Lisa.

"Bye, Ellen," Sam calls with a wave. She waves back, and the door shuts after the four of them as they make their way to the Impala. Dean drops Lisa off first with a quick kiss and a promise to call later. When they get to Jessica's house, he hopes he doesn't have to yell at Sam to get out of the car and walk her to the door, and his baby brother doesn't disappoint. He sits watching them—yeah, okay, whatever, it's his baby brother—as they say goodbye; he's just about to turn away when he catches sight off Jess leaning in and planting one right on his brother's dweebish cheek. He has to clamp his mouth shut to keep from cheering. When Sam comes back to the car, he is beaming brighter than anything he's ever seen, and it spreads to Dean, even through all of his performance issues and identity crises.