51. Timestamp - Beach

Dean loves the summer at Cas’s. There’s not a whole lot of bugs and it’s awesome to feel content enough to fall asleep sleep on the beach or have picnics in various little meadows. Being out in the forest with Cas is like getting the chance to step out of the world for a while. Plus, spending time with Cas is always amazing.

Except for recently. Maybe.

Well, no. It’s still awesome being with him and Dean still thinks Cas is better than the moon, the stars, and pretty much anything in the whole creation of ever. But something’s changed. Usually, whenever Cas goes down to the lake to take a bath or cleanse the water, he’s alright with Dean coming along for the ride. It usually boils down to the two of them having a beach day, which sometimes leads to beach sex because Cas prefers good ol’ fashioned skinny dipping.

Recently, though, Cas leaves Dean behind every time he goes to the lake. Dean knows that Cas also sometimes prefers doing things in private when it involves the forest. But the lake has always been an alright thing to do because Dean can’t really distract him when Cas swims out to purify the water. When he was first asked about it, Cas gave some piss poor excuse about being able to ‘better commune with nature’ or something when he told Dean that he wasn’t allowed to come with him anymore.

He calls bullshit on that. This all sort of started after the last cabin trip they had with Sam and Jess almost a month ago. Those two fangirls had been all impressed with how Cas could purify a lake, but Cas had gotten annoyed when Dean stopped him from doing it in the nude like he’s gotten used to doing again. Apparently he always used to do it in the buff when he was all on his own before Dean came along and before they became more than friends.

Dean had tried to get Cas to wear his swim trunks, but apparently Cas doesn’t like the way they get waterlogged. That had led into the mentally scarring moment when Sam offered up one of his speedos (“They’re for sunbathing, Dean!”) and Dean will never not shudder violently at that mental image. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let Cas wear one of those monstrosities. Cas just did the purifying in his usual loincloth, but he gave Dean the stinkeye the whole time.

Is it Dean’s fault that he doesn’t think Cas should go parading around in his birthday suit in front of Sam and Jess? Does that really deserve him not being allowed to go with Cas to the lake? How in the hell did that translate to being denied the awesomeness that is a naked Cas in the water?

It’s not fair. Cas gets to be naked in the lake alone and that's just really not fair.

They've been together for a year and a half now. Of course he respects Cas’s boundaries and all that, but is this really about what happened at the cabin? Cas won’t confirm or deny it whenever Dean asks why he’s suddenly not allowed to watch his boyfriend strip down on a beach. Cas was alright with him watching before they hooked up and for the last year. So why is it suddenly something he has to do on his own?

It pisses Dean off in more than one way. He’s angry Cas won’t give him a reason, and he’s angry that he’s so curious about it. This shouldn’t be something that bothers him, but it is and the fact that it’s bothering him bothers him.

Which explains why Dean is crouching behind a bush in the middle of the afternoon on one sunshiny summer day, tucked between it and a tree while spying on his Angel boyfriend. Maybe spying is too harsh a word. Peeping? No, that's too... dirty. Checking on. Yeah, that sounds better. He's checking on Cas to make sure he doesn't drown or anything. That’s a perfectly legitimate excuse that does absolutely nothing to make him feel better for following Cas when he was told not to.

The thing is, nothing has changed. Cas’s whole process is exactly the same as Dean remembers it. He takes his wrap off on the beach, leaves it over one of the rocks and slips his loincloth off too, folding it just as neatly on top of the wrap. Dean’s mouth goes dry and he tries not to get too distracted when Cas starts doing a few stretches; spreading his wings and checking them out.

He tries really hard not to focus on Cas’s ass – his glorious, carved by God himself, ass – as he wades out into the water. Cas likes to do that thing where he drags his hands through the water and scoops it up onto his arms while adjusting to the temperature. Dean is the opposite. He just dives right in, temperature be damned. Sometimes it’s nice, sometimes it’s cold as hell and he spends a solid ten minutes shivering before he’s used to it.

Literally nothing is different in the way that Cas walks out far enough until he’s swimming, wings slipping under the water as he dives. It’s too bright in the middle of the day to see how the lake would glow during the purifying, but Dean’s pretty sure it happens anyways because a few minutes later Cas comes walking out of the lake all shiny and clean and pleased with himself.

Cas spreads his wings to their full length and Dean's heart skips a beat or two. It's a sight that never fails to make his blood starting pumping in a distinctly southern direction. That combined with Cas's endless miles of tanned skin is sending all that blood straight down fast. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry, and watches Cas shake his wings out, feathers rustling and flicking water in all directions. Cas sits on his clothes on the rock and starts running his fingers through the feathers like he's preening himself.

Dean tells himself he’s not jealous.

He damn near swallows his tongue when Cas speaks.

"You know you can't hide from me out here, Dean."

Caught. Fuck.

Standing up slowly, Dean shoves his hands in his pockets as he steps out onto the beach. There’s really nothing that comes to mind for him to say and he stares blankly at how Cas continues to methodically run his fingers over each and every feather. He’s watching him over the edge of his wing, calm in a way that is completely terrifying.

"I thought I told you to stay at home."

"You did." Dean bobs his head in a nod and glances around. There’s no one for miles to hear him scream if Cas decides to kick his ass from here to Timbuktu.

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to watch." At this point, if he tries to play the smartass card, there is every chance that Cas is going to make him sleep in the Impala tonight.

Cas tilts his head and moves on to the other wing. "Watch what?"

"You."

His hands stop in the middle of the wing and a chill runs down Dean’s spine when his eyes get all narrowed and dangerous. "I wanted my privacy, Dean."

He tries really hard not to wince. Yes, privacy is a fine thing that should’ve been respected and Dean acknowledges that he was a colossal asshole for ignoring it. This is something he accepts and will live with to the end of his days. What he can’t live with is not knowing why.

"You used to let me watch before. What changed?"

Cas’s upper lip curls and Dean fights the urge to back away when he stands and shakes his feathers out again. In three long strides Cas is right in front of Dean. Even though he's an inch or two shorter and Dean is wearing his boots so he's standing even taller, he still manages to freaking loom over Dean.

It's the wings, it's gotta be.

He gets right up in Dean’s face, close enough to be uncomfortable, and Dean backs up until he bumps into a tree. It's not until Cas has him pinned to the trunk, his whole body pressed against Dean's, that he notices the boner digging into his thigh. Dean has all of two seconds to be completely and utterly confused before Cas is kissing him like it's how he fucking breathes.

Before he really knows what’s happening, Dean's flannel ends up spread out on the beach with Dean on top of it and Cas working furiously at tugging his boots and pants off. Even then he doesn't stop Cas's hands from methodically stripping him down.

"I feel like I missed something here." He manages to get out before Cas yanks his t-shirt over his head.

Cas makes an impatient noise and sits back on his heels between Dean's legs. "I have been waiting for you to follow me down here since I gave you that ridiculous rule."

Alright. Confusion level ten, achieved.

"What?"

"I wanted you to follow me." He huffs, angling his arm up behind his back before his whole body twitches. "I wanted you to break that rule."

Dean blinks at Cas's hand when he brings it back around, fingers actually fucking glistening in the sunlight. There’s no way in hell that that's water and his brain is kind of short circuiting right now - otherwise, he might actually know what that is. "What?"

Now Cas makes a frustrated noise, leaning over Dean to kiss him again. It's rough and messy and it's a wonderful distraction from the slick press of the first finger into him. Dean gasps and his hips buck when Cas goes straight for his prostate, rubbing at it firmly.

"You broke the rule, Dean. You need to be punished for it." Cas breathes against his mouth, wings folding over them. "I've wanted to have you on this beach all summer."

Oh?

Oh!

Dean breaks from the kiss with a grin. "You could’ve just asked."

Cas slants his own version of a grin back at him and he presses in a second finger, wiping the look from Dean's face as he works him open. "True, but punishing you gives me the excuse to do it like this."

He bites his lip to stifle the little sounds digging their way out of his throat. Cas is usually gentle, taking his time to open Dean up before he pushes in slow and smooth. Cas makes love. And not that Dean doesn't fucking love having sex with Cas like that, but this... this... is a whole side to him Dean hasn’t seen outside of the mating season. That’s the only time he’s ever had rough sex with Cas.

Dean tilts his head back at the push of the third finger. It's before he's really ready for it, but the slight burn is a balm to how Cas is mercilessly pressing and rubbing at his prostate. His lips work over Dean’s chest, almost biting at his nipples while his free hand is stroking Dean’s dick with every way he knows how to get Dean hard fast. It’s flat lining Dean’s brain better than a rock to the head.

In the time between Cas's fingers and Cas's dick, Dean realizes where the lube is coming from. It's Cas's own goddamn oil and that makes something dizzying spiral through him, knowing that Cas is working the oil from the little glands under his wings and using it to slick himself up. Jesus Christ. They’ve used it before – plenty of times since the mating season, actually – but Dean’s heart still morphs into a hummingbird every single time he remembers how Cas is marking him up and making him his.

By the time Cas drags his hips up into his lap, Dean's just about ready to come. This is the only point where Cas takes his time. He pushes in that first little bit, stopping and waiting until Dean groans and rolls his hips for more. Cas keeps going slow, stopping to let Dean adjust on every inch. The moment Cas is sure Dean’s ready, is the same moment that Dean digs his fingers into Cas’s arms.

He pulls out slow and snaps his hips forward in one rough thrust. Dean won't say that he screams, but it's damn fucking close to it. Cas leans over him again, nearly folding Dean in half as he picks up a pace Dean is wholly unused to taking from him. It's dragging all sorts of noises from him as Cas pins his hands to the sand, fingers interlacing automatically.

Dean holds on for all he's worth and he's trying to say Cas's name, trying to say something, anything. It's all coming out as breathless gasps and little whimpers that Cas catches with his teeth and tongue on Dean's lips. Cas keeps muttering in Enochian and his eyes are burning into Dean, taking it all in and Dean can't breathe under the weight of them.

He can't even look away.

Every pet name Cas has for him passes between them in the harsh Enochian syllables Dean’s come to know. But there are still words Dean doesn't recognize. More names? Dirty talk? Fuck if he knows, but the sound of Cas's voice is skittering down his back and fanning the fire burning in his gut. He comes with a surprised cry that might, in some way, sound a lot like Cas's name. His chin tilts to the sky and his back arches right off the ground, body suspended between the crown of his head and Cas's lap.

Cas comes before Dean has even spiraled down from his orgasm, squeezing his hands hard enough to bruise and pressing his forehead to Dean's chest. They collapse back to the sand and Dean's shirt in a messy pile of limbs and feathers and Cas is fucking heavy but Dean isn't going to complain. Not when they probably both just came harder than either has since the mating season.

"Ozien." Cas says firmly against Dean’s neck.

"Ozien." Dean sounds it out in mumbled syllables into Cas’s hair, too fucked out to even think of moving right now. Of course he remembers its meaning.

"Ozien." Cas repeats, shifting enough that he can pull out and Dean groans at the uncomfortable feeling. He leans up to press a kiss under Dean's jaw. "Mine own."