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It had been a long and exhausting day for Dean, but the smell coming from the kitchen calmed him down as soon as he opened the front door.
“Cas, I’m home,” he yelled as he hung his jacket in the closet and took off his shoes. A few years ago, Cas had requested that they take their shoes off when they came inside. Apparently, it helped keep things clean in the house. What a weirdo, Dean had thought fondly, but he’d agreed.
Now, it came as second nature to leave his boots on the shoe rack when he arrived home.
“Did you have a good day at work, Dean?” Cas emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands clean. He was wearing a pair of worn-out jeans and a shirt that looked like it was stolen from Dean’s wardrobe. His smile reminded Dean of what he had looked like all those years ago when they first met. For one insane moment, Dean thought of walking up to Cas and greeting him by placing his hands around that gorgeous face and pulling him into a kiss.
But no, despite what all their friends thought, they weren’t a couple and never had been.
They had met about a decade ago, when Dean was going back to school to get a master’s degree in mechanical engineering. Money was tight, the apartments in the city were expensive, so he had been looking for a roommate. Sam’s friend’s friend’s cousin, or whoever it was, knew about a guy who was moving to the same city for an internship at some fancy restaurant. They exchanged contact information and met to discuss the possibility of becoming roommates.
From the very moment Dean had seen Castiel, he was captivated. Whatever Dean’s type was, Cas hit all the checkmarks. He was handsome, his eyes were strikingly blue, his body was like that of a Greek mythological hero; he was smart and knowledgeable, and his dry humor made Dean laugh out loud during that first meeting.
And his smile… When Cas smiled at Dean as they were saying their goodbyes, Dean wondered if it was actually possible for the sun to shine brighter and little birds sing in every tree just because one person now existed in Dean’s world.
Maybe it was a bad idea to move in with a guy he was lusting over. Cas was probably straight. He’d bring in girls to their apartment, and Dean would have to listen to Cas fuck them through the wall while having a sad wank in his lonely bed. He would end up confessing his feelings after some alcohol-filled evening and end up thrown out of their apartment for being a creep.
Still, he went to look for housing with Cas and signed a lease for a two-bedroom apartment for a year. His hand had been shaking when he wrote his name, but it would only be for a year. If they didn’t get along, they could just share the space and go their separate ways at the end of it. They were busy young professionals at the beginning of their careers. Neither of them would have extra time for roommate drama.
Only they ended up getting along better than either one expected. In many aspects they weren’t similar. Dean liked working with people and Cas’ “people skills were rusty” like he put it (with finger quotes and all). Cas had grown up in a wealthy family with nannies and servants around, while Dean had practically raised his little brother in relative poverty. Cas had gone to college after high school and graduated before he had discovered he’d like to go to culinary school, while Dean had worked odd jobs for years before discovering that he’d really like to go to college. Dean was full of pop culture references, but Cas had barely seen any of the movies that created the collective consciousness of their generation. (The last one Dean was determined to correct as soon as he could by arranging movie nights for them.)
All they had in common were their ages, the willingness to work hard to reach their goals, and being disappointments to their homophobic parents.
Oh, and both were attracted to men as well as women.
After a few hiccups at the beginning, arguments about household chores, utilities and sharing space, Dean and Cas had settled in a comfortable living arrangement that led the to become best friends.
Ten months after moving in together, it came time to talk about renewing the lease or moving out. Dean wondered if it was the time to tell Cas about his unrequited love and why living together any longer would be a bad idea.
He didn’t.
They renewed the lease.
After Dean finished his master’s and got headhunted for a nice job, and Cas caught a well-paying position as an assistant chef, they decided to move into a bigger apartment. Even though both could now comfortably live in their own houses, it was still cheaper to share. Neither of them was in a serious relationship, so it was just economically smart, or that was what Dean told himself.
A few years ago, one of Cas’ more tolerable relatives, who had been fond of him as a child, left him a house in the suburbs. It needed some repairs which Dean happily helped with. After the renovations were almost finished, Cas came to Dean with some calculations about the monetary worth of his work, how much it raised the value of the house, and offered to add Dean’s name to the title. That would give Dean equal legal protection for the property; he wouldn’t have to worry about Cas throwing him out after Dean had put so many hours of work into the house.
Maybe for most couples (never mind for best friends who were not in a romantic relationship), owning a house together was a big step, but for them, it felt natural. It felt right.
It felt like a dream Dean didn’t deserve. The only way it could be better was if Cas loved and wanted him back, but it was what it was. Which brought them back to now.
“Yeah, it was alright,” Dean said instead of acting out his fantasy of kissing Cas. “Some customers were being obtuse. I swear they do it on purpose. How’s your day been?”
“Customer-free, fortunately. I had a phone call with my literary agent, but I also tested some new recipes,” Cas said. He’d started writing cookbooks instead of working in a busy kitchen environment, and apparently those were flying off the shelves or whatever the equivalent was for online bookshops. The change had been a win for everyone included. Cas got to work from home, the publishing company got some nice sale numbers, the online foodies got some new material for their Instagram posts, and Dean got to enjoy fresh homemade cooking almost every night because he was Cas’ main taste tester.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Cas added. “I made several courses.”
“I’m starving,” Dean said.
Dean went to change clothes and wash up before dinner, and then he helped to set up the table and carry everything Cas had cooked. There was some kind of pasta casserole with chicken, fried zucchini, freshly baked garlic bread, a green salad with toasted hazelnuts and feta, and an apple crumble for dessert.
Sam had been teasing Dean about his newly found love for vegetables on his plate. The difference was that the way Cas prepared them made them taste like something else than fried cardboard. Dean could cook a nice burger and make decent barbecue when they invited friends over for a party in their backyard, but only Cas could make Dean love zucchini.
“Thanks, Cas. All of this looks amazing,” Dean looked at the dishes on the table. “So tell me what you talked about with your literary agent?”
On Saturday morning they had gone to the farmer’s market to get some fresh produce for Cas’ recipes. It was definitely not Dean’s scene, but seeing Cas’ excitement was worth it.
“What else do you need?” Dean asked, his hands full of bags after an hour of shopping.
“I’d like to buy some fresh cherries,” Cas checked his list. “And some tomatoes.”
“Roger that,” Dean said. “Hey, I see some cherries over there. Are those what you’re looking for?”
After Cas had bought everything he needed, they stopped for lunch at a little café. No matter how much Dean enjoyed Cas’ cooking, it was nice to have a proper old-fashioned cheeseburger every once in a while.
“I must admit I like your burgers more,” Cas said after swallowing the bite he’d taken. “They have character.”
“That sounds like a euphemism for ‘clearly amateur work but it’s adorable how he tries to cook something for once’,” Dean replied with a grin.
“It’s not. I enjoy your cooking,” Cas said. “Just because you don’t have formal education to be a chef doesn’t mean it’s not good. Your cooking tastes like it’s been prepared with love.”
Dean felt his cheeks heat and took another bite to avoid saying something stupid.
When they got back home with all their shopping, Dean offered to help Cas with meal preparations. It wasn’t yet time for dinner, but they chopped vegetables and meat in comfortable silence. The only sounds in the kitchen were knives hitting the chopping boards, and Cas’ ridiculous pop playlist.
Dean had always believed the driver picked the music, and Cas’ response had been that if he was cooking, he was the driver. So if Dean wanted to help him in the kitchen, he’d shut his cakehole, except to taste the food. There wasn’t much Dean could say to argue if he wanted to keep choosing the music playing in the Impala.
“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, putting the prepared ingredients in the fridge to wait.
“Not a problem,” Dean said. “Hey, do you mind if I call Charlie back? I had some missed calls from her.”
“Go ahead,” Cas smiled. “I’m an adult, Dean. I think I can entertain myself for a little while.”
Talking with Charlie was always fun, but she also seemed to be under the impression that Dean and Cas were more to each other than best friends (not an unpopular notion among their friends and family). She was more discreet about her suspicions than many of Dean’s other friends, but it was there between the lines.
“We’re having a little get together next week at my place. Do you and Cas want to join us?” Charlie asked after telling Dean everything she’d been doing last week.
“Sure. What time?” Dean asked.
“Any time after 6 on Saturday should be okay. It’s potluck so if you can convince Cas to create something nice, I will give you my first child,” Charlie said.
“No need,” Dean laughed. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to make something. I’ll talk with him about it.”
“Thanks. How is it going for you two then?”
And there it was. Talking about Dean and Cas as if they were one item. Dean sighed, but didn’t point it out when he began to tell Charlie about how his week had been so far.
“Charlie invited us over next weekend,” Dean said when he walked to the living room to find Cas reading a book. “She asked if you could make something for the potluck.”
“Of course,” Cas said, looking up from his book. He was wearing his reading glasses that always made butterflies flutter in Dean’s stomach. How could someone be that cute and hot at the same time? How could a simple pair of glasses make him want to jump Cas even more than he normally did?
Dean shook away the thoughts of leaning down to kiss Cas’ neck. Friends didn’t do that. There were plenty of signs of affection Dean could get away with, but he knew where to draw the line.
Most of the time anyway. If he sometimes stepped away from “best friends and roommates” to “love of my life and My Person” then it was his own business. As long as Cas didn’t say anything, it was all fine.
Dean went to get his own book and sat at the other end of the sofa. The scene was disgustingly domestic, but neither of them pointed it out.
After the dinner (mascarpone and tomato risotto with thinly sliced lean steak, green salad with lemon vinaigrette, and focaccia), they went back to the living room. Dean felt full and comfortable and they chatted about the recipes for a while, before Cas got up to get them some dessert.
Cas had made a cherry cream pie, a dish that was a combination of cheesecake and cherry pie. Dean had salivated over Cas’ description and couldn’t wait to try it.
Cas cut them both a piece and brought them to the living room. Dean was picking a movie for them to watch but stopped scrolling to receive the plate from Cas. Cas would no doubt want to interview Dean about the pie before they settled down for the movie.
“Thanks, Cas,” Dean smiled and took a sniff of the dessert. The smell of the cherries was strong, and Dean licked his lips in anticipation. Carefully he took a piece on his spoon and put it in his mouth. The taste of tart cherries combined with the creamy filling exploded in his mouth, making him moan indecently.
“What do you think?” Cas asked, twisting his hands nervously.
“I fucking love you. This is the best pie I’ve ever tasted, and I’ve had a lot of pie,” Dean said, taking another bite of it. Clearly the deliciousness had stopped his brain from functioning correctly, because he only stopped to think about what he had just said after he noticed Cas’ face.
After reviewing his words, Dean put his spoon back on his plate.
“Cas. I—”
“Is that one of your exaggerations?” Cas asked, having put his own plate on the living room table. “Or figures of speech? We have been friends for a long time, so I understand it’s platonic.”
Cas’ stare, already overwhelmingly intense on a normal day, was now drilling into Dean’s face like he was trying to read Dean’s thoughts through his eyes.
“Cas,” Dean put his plate away too. This was more important than the pie. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that and make things uncomfortable.”
“Did you mean it?” Cas asked.
“Yeah, of course I love you, Cas. You’re my best friend. We own a house together for fuck’s sake,” Dean said, trying to avoid the next question.
“Platonically?” Cas asked, just as Dean had expected.
The silence stretched out and what only could have been half a minute, felt like an hour. The truth was rippling in the air between them and prickling on Dean’s skin. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat and shook his head minutely.
“No,” he whispered.
In the next moment his lap was full of Cas who had hands in Dean’s hair and who was yanking him into a deep kiss. Instinctively, Dean responded and pulled Cas against him. In a mess of arranging limbs and knocking elbows into the back of the sofa, they ended up lying down. Dean was on his back with Cas straddling his hips and neither of them seemed to want to pull away from the kiss long enough to talk about this. Dean pushed his thigh upwards and felt Cas’ half-hard cock press against it.
“Shit, Cas,” Dean whined. “I've wanted you for so long.”
“Dean,” Cas said, pulling a few inches away and pressing his forehead against Dean’s. “I love you.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Dean said, trying to make light of the situation even though there was nothing light about it.
“How long?” Cas asked.
“When I first saw you,” Dean said. “That’s when I wanted you. About six months to living together since it turned into love.”
“We’re idiots,” Cas laughed. “I’ve loved you since that night you got drunk and first told me about your parents.”
Dean thought back.
“That was about four months in,” Dean clarified, and Cas nodded. “I was fucking red and swollen from crying so hard. Is this a kink I should know about?”
“You’re my kink,” Cas said, pressing his hips against Dean’s leg.
“That’s a terrible pick-up line, Cas.”
“Does it work?” Cas asked, gently nibbing under Dean’s chin.
“Fuck yeah, it does,” Dean said. “Should we talk more about this?”
“Alright,” Cas sat up, still straddling Dean but feeling horribly far away now. “I love you. I want to take you to a bed and make love to you in every way we can imagine, maybe trying the other rooms of the house too. I’d like us to move into the same bedroom, so I can cuddle and spoon you at night and wake up next to you in the morning. I’d like us to be exclusive and other people to know we are a couple. Otherwise, I’m very happy with how things are now.”
“Fuck, I want all of that too,” Dean said, his hips twitching upwards at the mental images. “Are you a top? Bottom? Versatile?”
“Oh, very versatile,” Cas said. “I do enjoy being in charge in sex, but as I said, I’d like to try everything with you to find out all the things we both enjoy.”
There was no question that Dean was going to enjoy it all.
“Dean,” Cas said, his expression turning serious. “I know this is a new situation. I can wait until you’re ready. Just because we love each other romantically doesn’t mean we have to immediately have sex.”
Dean let out a loud bark of laughter.
“You think I’m not ready? I was about to say the same to you,” Dean said. “I don’t want to wait but I would for you.”
“I know you would, Dean,” Cas said, his eyes bright and intense.
“Now, how about we cut the chick flick moment and take this show on the road?” Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“I will take our desserts to the fridge first,” Cas said, getting up from the sofa (and Dean) and taking the two unfinished pieces of pie from the table.
Fuck the pie, Dean wanted to say but it felt too sacrilegious to say out loud. Instead, he followed Cas into the kitchen and watched him put the pieces in a container. As soon as the fridge door was closed again, he backed up Cas against it.
“Hi,” he grinned.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, letting Dean press him against the fridge even though they both knew Cas could pull himself free if he wanted to. Slowly, Dean pressed his lips against Cas’, amazed that this was allowed. It only took half a minute for the kiss to turn from gentle to hungry. Displaying his strength, Cas pushed himself off the fridge and walked Dean backwards against the kitchen island. Dean let Cas lift him up to sit on a chair next to it.
“You sure you want to do this in the kitchen?” Dean grinned when he stopped to breathe between kisses. “Isn’t it unhygienic?”
“Mmm, maybe it is, but the sight you create right now, flushed and wanting me, would be worth it,” Cas said and leaned to whisper into Dean’s ear. “Imagine having that memory every time you walk into the kitchen. Watching my hands prepare dinner and remembering what those same hands did to you here.”
“Fuck,” Dean said. “Cas.”
“But I think I’d like our first time to be in a real bed,” Cas said. “Your bed or mine?”
“Mine. It’s closer.”
They stumbled through Dean’s bedroom door, and Dean thanked whatever higher powers that he had lube and condoms on hand. He hadn’t been on a date or brought anyone over for a long time, but he was optimist at heart when it came to sex.
“You’re beautiful, Dean,” Cas said when Dean sat on his memory foam mattress and began to pull off his shirt.
“Shut up,” Dean said, embarrassed. Other people had told him the same thing, of course, but hearing it from Cas felt different. He threw his shirt on the floor and looked down at his body. He wasn’t in the prime condition he had been in when he first met Cas. His desk job and the hearty meals Cas kept feeding him had made sure of that. But he wasn’t bad looking in his own opinion. When he raised his eyes to look up at Cas, he could see hunger in his eyes.
Slowly, Cas began to unbutton his shirt and strip off the rest of his layers. Shirt, undershirt, pants, socks, and then Cas was standing there in front of Dean in only his underwear. Breaking the trance of watching Cas undress, Dean began to open his jeans, but Cas stopped him.
“Let me,” he kneeled in front of Dean and pulled down the jeans, revealing…
Dean cursed aloud when he realized he was wearing a blue pair of panties under the jeans.
“Sorry,” Dean said. “I forgot I had these on. I get it if you don’t like…”
“Beautiful,” Cas sighed and put his mouth on the bulge between Dean’s legs. The silky material was getting wet from Cas’ saliva and Dean got harder when it hit him how much Cas appreciated his chosen underwear. While tonguing Dean’s cock through the sheer material, Cas also pulled Dean’s jeans off and removed his socks. With the same care Cas prepared his recipes, he handled Dean, using his hands and mouth to bring him to the edge and letting him cool down before starting again.
“Cas, I want to touch you too,” Dean whined when Cas took his time to kiss and bite Dean’s thighs before returning to his cock.
“Alright,” Cas said. “Get on the bed.”
Cas joined Dean and they took their time just exploring each other’s bodies. For most of his life, Dean had thought sex was all about the pleasure and the release, but there was a different kind of enjoyment in taking things slowly. Dean had desired Cas for so long that he wanted to make the most of it now that it was real.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t desperate to feel Cas inside him. He pulled out the lube and condoms from his bedside drawer and gave Cas a very pointed look. Cas just smiled and placed them aside.
Eventually, Cas took off Dean’s panties, leaving him completely naked underneath him. He used his fingers to open Dean, taking his time, which Dean was grateful for. It had been some years since he had last slept with another man.
When Cas finally pushed inside him, Dean was already on the edge again. He pressed his fingernails to Cas’ back and held on, enjoying every sensation his body was experiencing. The arc of Cas’ neck was enchanting, so he fulfilled his long time urge and pressed his lips on it. Sucking on the soft skin, Dean knew he had probably left a highly incriminating piece of proof of what they’d been doing, but he didn’t care.
The orgasm was not the explosive peak of pleasure Dean was used to. When it hit him, he arced his back out of the bliss, but it came in slow rolls of satisfaction rather than all at once.
Cas had clearly been holding himself back, because after Dean’s orgasm, he took a few rougher thrusts to bring himself to a release too. Dean regretted the condom separating them.
They had time. They would have plenty of opportunities to leave the condom off, have rough sex in the kitchen, have quickies when they could only spare a few minutes, try all the things that both of them had fantasized about over the years.
Cas threw off the condom, got a clean, damp towel to wipe off the release from their skins, and settled back on the bed. Dean pulled him closer and kissed him, before relaxing against Cas’ chest.
“Cas, should we tell everyone we’re together at Charlie’s next weekend?” Dean muttered against Cas’ collarbone.
“Dean, I’d be proud to call you my partner,” Cas said. “But if you’d rather keep it a secret for a little longer—”
“No! I’m proud to call you mine too,” Dean sat up. “They’re going to be unbearable though. All this time and they were right all along.”
“Will the teasing bother you?”
“Not as much as it bothers me that it took so long for us to end up here,” Dean said. “It’ll be fine. I want people to know.”
Next week they could tell others about the new development in their relationship. For now, though, Dean was happy to have Cas all to himself.
-fin-