The Bodyguard (is the Omega)

11.

Castiel could see Dean pacing in his bedroom. He made himself a sandwich and ate it standing by his kitchen window. When it was finished, Castiel grabbed a couple of things out of his personal medic kit and went to see Dean.

"Boarding school, I should send Jack away," Dean blurted out as he opened his bedroom door. "He's 23 and can come and go as he pleases but I thought I'd protect him from the world for a little longer you know. But I'm the one bringing him the danger."

"Sit down on the bed for me, Dean." Castiel used his most reassuring voice. Dean was walking fast and gesturing wildly.

"And Sam! What have I done to him. So caught up in my own success I didn't even realise he had thrown his own career away to take care of mine," Dean plopped down at the foot of his bed.

"I sense no resentment from Sam, that is his choice to make."

"No wonder you don't even want me, I'm a liability, the way I've treated you when you were just doing your job is so embarrassing."

"If it is any consolation, I feel just as culpable for the state of affairs between us," Castiel murmured. "Now lie down."

Dean flopped flat on his back.

"You have to relax, Dean. Hands by your side, no glaring."

Dean heaved out a sigh.

"This might sting a little and the lotion is cold," Castiel said as the scent of peppermint and flowers filled the room. "I'm going to take a firm grip and you are going to have to hold still."

Dean let out a long mewl as Castiel's fingers gently but firmly dug in. "I need to loosen the muscles more, you can make noise if you want, it might help."

Dean's chest writhed, he bit into his own forearm. "Cas! Fuck!"

Then his calf muscle loosened and he let out a long relieved moan as Castiel massaged his tender leg.

"Has it been cramping since the dislocation of the ankle?"

Dean nodded, moaning again as Castiel pushed his palm against the grain of muscle, from ankle to knee. "You shouldn't walk on it so much, when you favour one leg, you can throw your back out. I better do the other calf as well."

"Yeah, fuck Cas, you're so good at that. I bet ..." Dean went silent, swallowing the rest of his sentence.

"Spit it out, Dean."

"I can't. I shouldn't say shit to you anymore, I thought we had an antagonistic flirting thing going but now I think I'm just being a dick."

"We do have a conflict centred courtship of a kind," Castiel conceded. "I know you are trying to be good Dean, you can start by being honest. With me, with you."

"I bet you are amazing in bed, Cas. There, you happy, I said it."

Castiel's hand slipped on Dean's ointment covered calves. He recovered quickly, his mouth quirking up mischievously. "I am very thorough and attentive, yes."

"But no sex with hot pop star employers, right?"

Castiel nodded, his hands working over Dean's calves in an apologetic caress.