Clipped Wings

[FOURTEEN] You Weren't Suppose to Know

Approximately 11:00 PM.

"What's the problem this time, Jay?" Dean asked, a sly smile on his lips and an old rag in his hands.

"Well, ya see, Dean," Jay began, rubbing the back of his neck. He lightly bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "I think it's the power steering acting up again."

"Mmm," Dean hummed, throwing the dirty rag on his work bench. He crossed the shop to where Jay stood. The old light above the "Singer's Auto Repair" sign flickered for the third time that afternoon. He would fix it soon, but he had business to take care of first.

Dean walked up close, careful not to look too eager when there was a camera hidden by the entrance.

"I guess I'll get working on that right away," Dean said, tilting his chin up but keeping his eyes low. "But, first, paperwork?"

Jay smirked lightly, his blue eyes flickering down at Dean. "Of course."

"Right this way," Dean cooed. He hooked his index fingers in the loops on Jay's jeans and pulled him towards the office.

Dean kicked the door closed with his foot, spinning around and walking towards Jay, who was busy pulling the blinds shut.

"Where were you last week?" Dean asked quietly, leaning against the bare desk.

"It's been a busy week, Dean, I've told you," Jay explained, walking up to Dean and spreading his hands across Dean's chest.

"Yeah, I know, but I thought you would at least—"

"Dean," Jay shushed with a finger to his lips. "Good things come to those who wait."

Dean huffed, not believing a word, but slid his rough hands down Jay's well-built shoulders anyways.

"Just relax, babe," Jay cooed, bringing his mouth to Dean's neck and nibbling on the skin.

"Uh huhh..." Dean mumbled, bringing his head back and closing his eyes. He let himself melt into the man's familiar touch and lips. It's only been two weeks since they've last seen each other, but it always seemed far longer.

"If only you knew I was cheating on you."

Dean's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"If only you knew I was actually a married man with a kid."

Dean pushed his hands against Jay's chest and shoved him away. "What the hell are you talking about, Jay?"

Jay stepped back, his eyes glassy and face blank. Dean swore Jay wasn't even breathing for he stood motionless. Jay opened his mouth and out spilled enough poison to kill Dean twice over.

"If only you would've known you were fucking some guy who never loved you or wanted anything more from you than a good time. He just thought you had a hot body and damn—"

"Shut up," Dean choked, feeling confused and angry. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

"—and damn were you easy!" Jay suddenly yelled, stepping forward and laughing darkly. "I could have told you to hold a gun to your small, meaningless skull and you would pull the trigger! So needy, so lonely, so useless—"

"SHUT UP! Just shut the HELL. UP." Dean's finger nails dug into his palm. "You think you know me? You don't know anything about me."

"Oh, Dean, I know you," Jay pouted, a dark shadow covering his face. "I know about your mom, your dad, your brother, your career, where you live, what you ate for dinner, what time you watch the news, where and when you get your favorite coffee, why you can't come out of the closet just yet— I know everything. How? Because you told me. You told me everything because you are nothing."

"Dean! Dean, please! Wake up!"

Dean sputtered awake, his hands flying out around him. He felt bed sheets and a sweatshirt. He blinked open his eyes and saw an angel.

No, wait. It's just Castiel standing next to his bed in a Dean's sweatshirt and tired eyes.

"Dean? I-I think you had a nightmare," Cas explained, concerned.

Dean swallowed, releasing his hold on Cas's sweatshirt and the bed covers. He ran a hand through his damp hair and let out a shaky breath. Dean leaned over to the nightstand next to the bed and pulled out a small bottle of pain killers. Cas watched him dry swallow a couple pills and throw the bottle back in the drawer.

"I'm fine, I'm good. You can go back to sleep, Cas."

Cas stood awkwardly beside the bed, fiddling with the sleeves on the sweatshirt. "I don't think you're fine, Dean."

Dean scoffed, frowning. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm fine, seriously. Go back to the couch and sleep. It's late."

It was Cas's turn to frown. Dean usually would've offered to let Cas sleep in bed with him, especially since it was Christmas. Something was wrong.

"I may not be the best at recognizing body language, but I can recognize when you are distressed," Cas explained, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dean sighed, looking towards the door. He didn't want to talk about it. Bringing it up again was not what Dean wanted to talk about.

"Can you at least tell me why you were crying?" Cas whispered, letting his head fall slightly.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and quickly brought his hand to his eyes. Cas was right. Dean had been crying in his sleep. It wasn't sweat on his face or sweat that drenched his pillow. It was worse than that— more pathetic than that. Dean shook his head and turned his eyes down to the hands that laid limp in his lap.

Cas brought his hand to Dean's chin, slowly siding his thumb over his cheek.

"Talk."

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Ayyeeee. Things are about to get real deep so grab a snack and a pillow to cry on.  ENJOY. :)