CasDean? DeanCas? Destiel.

Chapter 2

"I'm agent Carter, FBI" Cas starts.
"We're his partners, agents Burton and Newsted" Dean interjects holding up his fake badge, his companions do the same. The boys had made better badges after all of those LARPers called them out. They also keep track of any FBI updates so their badges are always updated. Although most individuals are unaware of the badges intricacies and would easily let them pass with inaccurate portrayals of the standard Federal Bureau of Investigation's identification card.
"We'd like to take a look at the O'Malley body" Sam states, tucking his own badge back into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"I don't know, Sato has been really weird about that one." the clerk responds.
"Weird how?" quiries Sam.
"He didn't even let his assistant be in the room when he performed the autopsy. One of the guys snuck in there just to see what was so weird about this and here's the kicker; someone sutured his wounds and the med team never even got to him. Someone snuck in there chopped some body parts and then proceeded to sew him back up. You can try and get him to give you what you need, I'll take you back there." answers the clerk.
The hesitant clerk guides them through the hallway and to the correct door. When he reaches it he knocks and alerts the corner of their arrival.
The boys ignore the clerk's gestures to wait for the coroner to open the door and burst through the door. The coroner was hurriedly putting away what appeared to be the files for the body in question.
"So, this guy's missing some pieces?" Dean questions once entering the cold sterile room.
"Yeah. Both of his legs were cut off and he bled out. I don't see why the FBI would be involved, it seems the locals have it under control. You probably don't even have to look at the body" the coroner explained.
Dean, after using the classic Dean Winchester approach to coax the coroner into opening the small metal door and pulling out the sliding metal tray, examined the body lying cold and stiff. His legs replaced by sloppy stitch work. Dean's looks around, but can't find what he's looking for.
"Where're the legs?" he inquires.
"They aren't here." the reluctant coroner answers.
"I didn't ask if they were here Dr. Sato. I asked where they were." Dean sternly retorted, giving Dr. Sato a look that could con Crowley willing into a devils trap.
"They searched the scene for hours. Dogs sniffed around. They found nothing." replied the coroner hesitantly.
The boys leave after a few more routine questions, to which they got minimal answers. They get back to Baby, who was patiently waiting in the nearly empty visitors parking lot gathering minuscule raindrops on her windshield. The only other car there was a Ford.  If this was a competition Dean's beautiful '67 Chevy Impala would give that worn truck a run for it's money, the only similarity being in color. Dean slides behind her wheel on the kind of worn but still beautiful leather front bench. Sam puts his laptop to use while they still have free wifi from the coroner's and books a room in a local motel. Dean puts Baby in reverse and her headlights shine through the rain that's getting heavier.
When they get to the motel, Sam goes in to get the key. He comes back and opens the door, motioning Dean and Cas to go to the room, their clothes slightly dampened.
"I'm going to the library. I'll see if I can't find out what this thing is." Sam says after claiming his bed with a swift toss of his duffle bag.
Dean throws him the keys and he walks out the door wishing them a goodnight and saying he'll be back late. Headlights glare through the blinds and Baby's engine purrs. Sam leaves the parking lot with the sound of loose gravel under tires. The motel is just like all of the motels Dean and little Sammy were always stuck in when John was out hunting and working cases. All the motels across the country were basically the same. Dean and Sam were raised in motels since the day Mary caught fire on the ceiling of Sam's nursery. Even after Azazel died, they couldn't escape the life. Dean did, for a little bit, before he had Lisa and Ben's memories of him erased to keep them safe from the things that go bumpbin the night, but until the boys found the Men of Letters' bunker, they hadn't a place to call home for years, just the repetitive crappy motels.
"So, um, what do you want to do?" Dean asks.
He's nervous. He knows it's just Cas, but something about being alone with him gives him butterflies in his stomach.
"Well, Saturday Night Live is on and I find their skits amusing," says Castiel now sitting on the edge of the bed, controller in hand.
Dean complies with Cas' wishes and sits against the pillows on the headboard while Castiel finds the right channel. Cas is hunched over ever so slightly, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees, and staring intently at the screen. The rain outside steadily getting louder against the roof.
Dean shifts around a bunch, his monkey suit starting to make him feel cramped and a bit cold from the wet cloth. Cas notices.
"Dean" Cas bellows, without moving his eyes from the skit "are you uncomfortable, you're moving around a substantial amount."
"I'm fine, Cas" Dean denies.
"Well, maybe if you took off your suit you'd be more at ease" Cas offers.
"Are you trying to get me naked" Dean jokes "there are better ways to ask, you know."
"Dean, if taking off your suit--
"No, you're right, I should" Dean interrupts.
He almost messed it up. What is wrong with him, always getting in the way of his own success. Dean rises from the creaky motel bed and begins stripping layer by layer. He can feel Cas' eyes on him, he would say something, but then Cas might stop. Dean can't say he doesn't want him to stop, but that's just the truth. Castiel is trying his hardest not to look, but, well, have you seen Dean Winchester? What if Dean notices? He'll get mad. Cas is not sure how far Dean is going to go; he can only hope for one more layer to hit the motel carpet.
Dean, now only in his dark blue boxers, settles back into his spot. Cas musters all of his strength to turn back to the tv. His trench coat is too tight around his arms, but he doesn't say anything in case it calls attention to another article of his clothing getting unusually tight.
"Ah much better," Dean sighs in relief.
"Yes, it is," Cas accidentally vocalizes.
"What do you mean Cas?"
"Nothing, I just want you to be rested."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Well, the end of the bed can't possibly be that comfy. Come back here with me."
"As you wish," Cas whispers as he crosses the room to lay beside a nearly naked Dean.
Look straight ahead. Dean doesn't like it when you stare. Just look at the tv, only at the tv. No, don't look at him there. That is the last place Dean would want you to look. Ok, just the tv. Act natural. Ok, you can do this. Pretend like he's not there. Pretend his bulging biceps aren't pressed against you. Pretend his sultry lips aren't perfectly parted. Pretend you don't want to press your lips against his and slip your tongue through the part.
The men watch Saturday Night Live as they make fun of political figures. Well, Cas is watching. Dean is watching Cas laugh and smile. Dean's subconscious has an idea that he suppresses and sells to his conscious as a different one. How does he get Cas to take off his clothes? Dean wants to feel Cas' warm skin on his own. Haha, Dean is straight, one hundred percent, completely straight. Cas seems confined in his clothes. Dean feels free out of his constraints. Maybe, if Cas were to take his clothes off, he'd like the result.
"Cas?"
"Yes, Dean?"
"Take off your trench coat."
"Ok."
Castiel gets up from the bed, takes off his trench coat and throws it over the back of a chair. Dean can't help but notice his impressive muscles. He can't stop himself from unconsciously giving his dick a squeeze. He can't help but go off into a fantasy world in which he could have Cas. He can't help but imagine the things he'd like to have done to him by Cas and vice-versa. The things that would never come to pass as long as they continued on the path they'd been trekking for years.
"Pants can be a bother, take those of to."
"Ok."
Castiel takes off his pants, revealing his light grey boxers, he faces away from Dean to hide the front. Dean would freak out if he saw the front.
"Cas?"
"Yes?"
"What's the point of a shirt without pants?" He laughs.
Dean was nervous. He just verbally undressed Cas and he wants to take it further, but Cas is a man. He's only in boxers and if he gets hard, Cas would easily notice.
"Oh, you're right," Cas says, back still turned to Dean, who is watching intently, as Castiel removes his shirt and tie and crosses back to the bed. He sits down trying to cover up his inconvenience.
Dean, however, notices.
"What the fuck Cas are you hard?" He nearly yells.
"I don't understand the question"
"Are you aroused"
"You are an extremely attractive man; I have no control over what happens down there"
"I'm what?"
"Extremely attractive"
"Oh"
Dean tries to process what was going on. Cas is hard. He's been semi-hard since he was staring at me in the car, except the coroner kinda put a damper on things. Cas said he's attractive. Extremely attractive. Half of him wants to help Cas out with his little problem. Well, not little, big problem. Extremely attractive, ha, Cas was more attractive than he was by a mile, or at least in his perception.
"It's alright Cas. When I first started getting them, it'd happen at the weirdest times."
"So, you're not mad?" Cas asks genuinely concerned and slightly confused.
"No, of course not buddy. And just like you said, I'm extremely attractive. Who could possibly resist this." Dean jokes.
They go back to watching tv. They sit there for a while in silence. Somehow, Castiel's hand finds it's way onto Dean's thigh. This makes Dean tighter in his boxers than he'd been all day.
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas"
"Are you aroused"
Dean looks to his side to find Cas, staring down at his dick, confused.
"Well you put your hand on my thigh, what'd you think was going to happen."
Cas knew what was going to happen. Or he hoped he knew. He is glad to see he was right.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Cas replies starting to take his hand off of Dean's thigh.
"No Cas its ok," Dean rushes trying his hardest to get Cas to leave his hand there.
Dean stops Cas' hand with his own and gives Cas a look pleading him not to move. Cas gives up his effort and rests back on the bed. He gets them underneath the covers and brings Dean into a more comfortable position across his chest. Cas could stay like this forever.
They stay exactly like this until Dean falls asleep; until Sam comes stumbling home with his eyes full of tired and an accomplished look on his face.
"Cas," he whispers.
"Yes, Sam?"
"Dean's drooling on you"
"Did you find out what we're dealing with?" Cas asks, wiping the drool from Dean's mouth.
"Yeah, it might be a trio of Japanese gods, I'll explain in the morning."
"Alright, go to sleep. You look exhausted."
"Goodnight Cas."
"Goodnight"
Sam takes off his shoes and plops on the bed, he falls asleep almost instantly. Cas plays with Dean's hair until morning. His beautiful locks somewhere in between blonde and brunette. Cas wants to kiss his forehead, but Dean might not like that, so he refrains. When Dean wakes up, he takes a shower without a word. He seems embarrassed that Sammy saw them in the same bed. Cas thinks he'll get over it as long as Sam uses mild discretion and dances around the subject.
"Get Dean to hurry up, the sheriff has something at 11," Sam instructs Cas.
"I can do that, we'll meet you in the car," Cas replies.
Cas knocks twice and opens the door to the bathroom. The glass is steamy but he can make out Dean's naked figure behind the partially opaque door.
"Dean, we need to hurry. The sheriff has to meet before 11:00," Cas says.
"What the fuck Cas, I'm in the shower," Dean replies.
"So?"
"So... I'm completely naked."
"Dean, this would not be the first time I've seen you naked."
"What do you mean this isn't the first time you've seen me naked, I've never been naked in front of you."
"Your clothes didn't survive the escape from hell. I dressed you in your attire after raising you from perdition."
"What?" Dean is very startled by this. Cas has seen him? All of him?
"Oh, you weren't aware?"
"No, Cas I wasn't aware!"
"Well, we still must hurry."
"Fine, let me rinse my hair."
"I'll grab you a towel."
"Ok, hand me the towel," shouts Dean over the sound of the running water. He finishes his rinse and shuts off the water.
Cas hands Dean the towel over the top of the steamy glass door. He tries to catch a glimpse of whatever he can from the dry side of the separator. It may not be the first time he'd see Dean naked, but Cas does wish that was a sight more common to him. Cas fights himself, as Dean would probably be angry if he looks. Cas opens the door after he sees that Dean has himself adequately covered.
"Cas, I can do this part by myself," Dean tells an always helpful Castiel, referring to exiting the shower and drying himself.
"Right, I'll just wait here then," Cas replies.
"Whatever gives you the jollies," Dean laughs as he steps out, still dripping. Cas sees where he first touched Dean, forever branded into his perfectly sculpted shoulder. A claim staked, similar, if not exactly like a dibs.
Cas is in the bathroom with him. Dean is in only a towel. He could let the towel "slip". Would that be so bad? No, it would probably lead to some great things. Plus, if Cas has already seen him undressed, what's one more time? There's nothing really keeping Dean's towel up at this point. The sheriff, Dean remembers. He has to do something. They need to talk today, or they'll have to spend an extra night in this podunk town. Oh great, that'd be torture. Well, actually, he and Cas have been having a good time. Not a good enough time though. Dean could never let them get farther than they have gone in these last few days. They just can't.
Cas steps out and comes back with Dean's suit, which he retrieved from the ground. Come to think of it, Sammy probably thought they'd gone further than they had. As far as they both, separately, secretly, wish they had gone. Dean slips on the underwear under the towel around his waist, removes the towel, and dresses in front of Cas. It was a very small bathroom. Cas wonders why Dean doesn't ask him to leave at this point, they are in very close proximity. Dean has always had a thing about "personal space". Cas finds it odd that he doesn't seem to mind now.
Dean finishes dressing and they walk out to the car. Sam's inside with various papers a book and his laptop askew. He's researching the case.
"So, Sammy, what've you got?" Dean queries.
"They're called Kamaitachi, they're ancient and from Japan. Kamaitachi refers to three brothers--" Sam starts.
"Oh good, one for each of us" Dean interjects.
"Yeah well, Kamaitachi means "sickle weasel", almost like the sithe you killed Death with. They're famous for stealing people's legs. The first weasel knocks the victim to the ground, the next comes in and cuts off their legs, then the third sews them up. According to legend, they do all this in the blink of an eye, but looks like they've gotten slower" Sam says.
"So basically, normally the vic is left alive and legless?" Dean asks.
"Yeah that seems to be how it goes down" Sam answered. Dean starts Baby up and starts on the road. A black Ford truck leaves the parking lot. They head towards the Sheriff's Department in silence. Dean still feeling awkward from everything with Cas and Sam and Cas not wanting to bring it up. Dean looks in the rearview to try and catch a glimpse of Castiel's beautiful face. Not only does he see Cas, he sees the black Ford behind them a quarter mile back. With the amount of times him and Sam were chased by police, FBI, and elite government hounds under consideration, Dean grows wary of the car trying to remain out of sight without losing them.
"Sam, see that car back there? It's been tailing us since the motel." Dean's burly voice sounds hushed, as if the the car would be able to make out his words otherwise.
"Wasn't that car at the coroner's too?" Sam responds, worry saturating his tone.
"Should we pull over?" Asks Dean.
"No, keep going, we'll check it out when we get there."
They pull into the parking lot of the Sheriff's Department and wait for the truck to park. The boys cross to the driver's side window with guns in hand. The driver abandons the safety and anonymity his car provided.
"Who are you and why are you following us," greets an anxious Dean.