Dear Addiction

Chapter forty five

Dean lent against the doorframe that led to his backyard, a beer in hand, watching as Cas sat at the pool edge, Jack in his lap, the child's giggles filling the silence. He'd come to talk to Cas, though he couldn't bring himself to move once he saw the other playing with his son, both with smiles across their faces.

He wanted them to be happy forever, and though all he had to say was that Jack's room was ready to be painted, it still would ruin the moment. Cas was never as happy around Dean as he was with Jack. There was always a distance. A sadness, that Dean couldn't help but notice.

He wanted the other to feel comfortable, he wanted the other to be endlessly happy, though no matter his efforts it never seemed to happen. He couldn't get the same smile from Cas as Jack could, he couldn't get the wide grin that warmed his face, any sign of strain gone for a moment.

A loud screech came from Jack as Cas tilted him backwards, letting the child lay flat in his arms, head dangling over the pool, almost touching the water. The screeches then became giggles, when Cas lifted him again, the child once again sitting in his lap.

Dean couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as Cas repeated the action, Jack's screeches just as loud as before, followed by more giggles.

Slowly Dean brought the bottle to his lips, taking a sip before he stepped outside walking to where the other sat.

He took a seat at the edge of the pool, letting his own feet dip in the warm water. Now next to the other he could see Cas's face, rested in a wide smile, as he once again tilted jack back, getting just as much of a reaction as he did every other time before that.

Jack didn't seem to get bored easily.

Dean glanced to the other one last time before turning his head forward to the setting sun ahead of him, the cool temperature taking over, though still nothing like New York. That's one thing Dean had really missed about LA, being able to leave without a full winter suit. The breeze that would come a comforting cool, allowing for warm mugs, and scarfs, some days still warm enough to swim in the ocean.

He brought the bottle back to his lips, though instead of the taste of cheap bear, he was met with just a few drops. "Jack's rooms ready to be painted, wherever you are." Dean said, finally letting his gaze go back to the other.

It felt wrong, like Dean shouldn't be looking. Like his heart shouldn't be hammering. Like he shouldn't want to lean in and close the little space between them, feel the other's lips against his own, feel the other's skin.

Dean shouldn't want it to go further, and not sex futher, but dates, and soft kisses, and holding hands. He shouldn't want it, as much as he hated to agree with his brother, but Cas had just gotten out of a relationship. He shouldn't want it.

But Dean wanted it so bad.

"I'll put Jack to bed, and then we can start," Cas suggested.

"Sounds good," Dean slowly stood. "I'll meet you there."

On his way to the guest room he grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

It had been four days since they'd arrived in LA. The first three Dean spent in the studio, finally on his first day off he decided it was time to make Jack an actual bedroom.

They'd spent the morning in Ikea, which both Cas and Jack had absolutely adored, followed by smaller shops, buying decorations, and paint. The evening was spent with Dean moving furniture and boxes, until the guest room Jack had been sleeping in was empty.

Dean stepped into the room, placing down the two glasses and bottle of scotch, before he opened the paint can. It was bright yellow, much brighter than he would have chosen, or found bearable, but Jack had begged for it, and Dean had a hard time saying no to the kid.