The Levee Broke

Pairing: Dean x Cas
Rating: 18+ 
Tags: pining!Cas, first times are awkward, making out, car sex
Word Count: 2k

Cas doesn’t spend a lot of time in cars these days. Since his wings got fixed up, he hasn’t needed to wander the slow path as a weary traveller, preferring to use his time more efficiently by appearing wherever he needed to be. But if Dean ever asks him to ride along, he still says yes, no hesitation. 

Dean was heading North to meet up with Sam, on his way back from a hunt out West, and when he ran into Cas in the bunker on his way to the garage he’d asked if he wanted to tag along – ‘get some fresh air’ – he’d said. So, here Cas was on the passenger side of the black leather bench seat, watching the atoms of the Earth fly by his window. 

“There a parade I’m missing?” Dean grunted, flicking to a new radio station when their current pick started to grow too static-y to be tolerable. 

“There’s a flock of geese being followed by a flock of smaller birds flying south,” Cas observed sagely, a pleasant smile on his face. “You might think they’re using the geese for directions, but actually all birds are instinctually programmed to fly in a southern trajectory at this time of year.” 

“Hm,” Dean hummed, seeming only begrudgingly interested. 

“Though,” Cas’ voice cut short as a new train of thought beckoned him along, “if we were in the Southern Hemisphere, the birds would have an instinct to fly north. So I suppose, it’s not so much the cardinal direction they’re flying in, just that they know where they need to fly to.” 

“Yeah,” Dean huffed, flicking the radio again and again, dissatisfied with the selection that was coming up, “where’s that, Cas?” 

“Home.” Cas answered without elaboration, and returned to smiling at the geese, leaving Dean to watch the back of his head with a blank expression. 

Cas didn’t need to sleep, but Dean did; and when Sam called to say he’d stopped at Jody’s to crash for the night, Dean and Cas weren’t anywhere near Sioux Falls. 

“Yeah, okay,” Cas heard Dean say down the phone. “Yeah, we’ll catch you tomorrow around –” Dean glanced at Cas to catch his eye. Cas gave a quick silent nod, knowing what Dean was asking, and knowing Dean would understand his answer. “Hey, if Claire’s there, tell her Cas says hi.” Dean nodded again listening to Sam. “Yeah, okay, see you in the mañana.” 

“How is Sam?” Cas questioned his companion. 

“Peachy,” Dean scoffed. 

“Will we be stopping for the night as well?

“Yeah eventually,” Dean shrugged and fought back a yawn that Cas didn’t miss. “I got a few more miles in me.” Dean changed the radio dial again. “God, radio in the Midwest sucks ass.” 

“If you’d prefer, I have…” Cas trailed off and started to grope in the pockets of his trench coat. 

“You about to flash me or something, Cas?” Dean side-eyed him. Cas pulled a dingy white cassette tape with a peeling label from one of his pockets. 

“I have this,” Cas held out the tape in offering. It was the mixtape Dean had given him of his ‘Top 13 Zepp Trax’. He saw Dean’s eyes widen in the flash of headlights passing them on the country highway. “To be clear,” Cas closed his hand around the tape, recoiling, “I am not giving it back to you, I am just offering an alternative to the radio for the rest of the drive.” 

Dean nodded speechlessly, something behind his eyes that Cas was familiar seeing but that he could never really identify. His fingers dragged along Cas’ palm when they retrieved the cassette, drawing unnecessarily across the whole length of his hand. Cas felt the familiar heat flood from his fingers up his arm and to his chest, wrapping his heart in glowing bands that constricted more and more tightly every time Dean touched him like this – mindlessly, casually, devoid of meaning. 

Dean put the tape in and turned up the volume on the opening chords of Good Times, Bad Times. Cas was surprised to see his hand drop to the cushion of the seat between them, rather than return to the wheel. He stared at the offending fingers as if the burn they had given him was physical and not metaphorical, as if his body, and not just his heart, was on fire. 

Cas pulled at his tie enough to undo his top button, and he noticed Dean glancing at him before flicking his eyes back to the road. Curiosity stirred, as Dean so frequently stirs it, he fumbled in his mind for something else to do that might give him another reaction of Dean’s to analyse. He started to tug his trench coat off his shoulders, it had been feeling uncomfortably warm since Dean had touched his hand anyhow and he’s pleased when Dean immediately registers his movement and turns towards him questioningly. 

“When’s the last time you took that thing off?” Dean asked incredulously, now watching Cas rather than the road, only sparing the necessary glances to the highway in order to keep them in their lane. Cas catalogued the response, noting positively that his removing an item of clothing had more or less gained Dean’s undivided attention. 

“I was beginning to feel warm,” Cas stated simply, not answering Dean’s question. 

Pulling out of one sleeve and then the next, Cas realized he hadn’t thought beyond this point and now didn’t know what to do with his coat. In his internal scramble, his hands unconsciously balled up the khaki cotton and set it in the space between Dean and himself, forgetting that Dean’s hand already occupied that space. 

When Cas’ hand landed on Dean’s they both blanched as if they’d been shocked, and their eyes locked in trepidation over the expanse of black leather and beige cloth between them. The opening notes of Stairway to Heaven bled through the Impala’s speakers and sank into the air, its tension thickening with each passing measure. Cas carefully set his hand atop his coat, noticeably and intentionally encroaching on Dean’s space. Dean’s hands were back on the wheel. 

“Did you put this song on the tape with the intention of mocking me?” Cas asked Dean flatly, hoping his sarcasm was readable. Dean flashed him a confused look, spared another glance at Cas’ hand between them on the seat, then focused back on the road. 

“I uh, I wasn’t trying to poke fun at you, man,” Dean shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I mean, I didn’t actually uh, make, the tape for you, it was one of my old ones.”

“So, you don’t consider me a good enough friend to make a mixed tape for?” Cas kept his voice even but had to fight to keep his lips from twitching in a smirk. 

“What, no!” Dean looked at Cas, offended, but then back tracked realising his words could get mis-interpreted. “No, I mean, you’re my best friend Cas, of course I would make you a tape I just – I gave you this one because it was one of my favourites. That’s why I thought you’d like it, I mean…” Dean swallowed awkwardly, looking back at Cas, likely checking he was getting through. 

“So, you thought I would be interested in learning about your favourite things?” Cas prodded. 

“Yes,” Dean nodded, eyes now very firmly back on the highway, and not on his best friend. 

“Because you imagine I would like to know everything about you,” Cas fought to keep from smiling, “because you’re so interesting.”

“Yes – no! No that’s not what I -” 

“So, it’s because you want me to know what you like so I can be a better friend?” 

“What? No, Cas, that’s not-” Dean broke off when he looked at Cas and saw the wide smile he was sporting. “What?” 

“I believe you humans call it a ‘joke’, Dean.” Cas tried to keep his voice emotionless, but his amusement was bubbling through. 

“You winged dick,” Dean punched him on the arm and dropped his hand into the space between them, settled on top of Cas’ coat and right next to Cas’ own hand. Cas smiled triumphantly to himself. 

“Sam said I needed to practice my sarcasm.” 

“Yeah, well,” Dean huffed and knocked Cas’ arm again, “you suck, man.” 

“Thank you.” Cas grinned brightly at Dean and earned a crinkled smile back that reached Dean’s eyes in a way Cas very rarely saw these days. 

Stairway to Heaven faded into a few moments of static, and Dean held Cas’ gaze in the silence, not needing to look at the straight abandoned road in front of them to keep the Impala on course. Rhythmic drums started up, echoing through the bass speakers and propelling vibrations through the seats and into each of their bodies. The wavering, wild west notes of When the Levee Breaks rang out, and Dean reached forward to turn the volume up. When his hand returned to the space between him and Cas, their fingers were closer than they’d been a moment ago. Dean’s gaze was back to being fixed firmly forward. 

Cas copied him, staring forward, and sinking into the music and stealing himself. He took his chance when the Impala sped over a pothole and knocked his fingers against Dean’s. Dean didn’t move, gaze still focused ahead. Cas hooked the tip of his little finger under Dean’s. Dean didn’t stop him. 

Going down, going down now, 

Going down, going down down down down down….

“Dean.” Cas stared ahead, but he could see Dean swallow thickly in his periphery. “Pull over.” 

Cas is an immortal being, an incalculable number of years old, and he can remember every one of those years. But his life since he found Dean Winchester has been a blur, and the contents of the past few minutes escaped his memory entirely. All he knew is that the levee had broken, and now Dean was shirtless and on top of him in the front seat of the Impala, and all he cared about was making sure Dean never stopped kissing him. 

The burning feeling that had grown at home in his chest had erupted through his whole body, and the places Dean trailed his fingers left Cas scorching. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found Dean’s handprint burned into his flesh tomorrow. 

“Cas,” Dean moaned his name, and Cas felt his hands on his belt. Cas shoved himself out of his suit trousers under Dean and watched intently as Dean’s hands went to his own belt. The buckle clattered against the dashboard as Dean tugged at it violently and wriggled out of his jeans, less than gracefully. 

Cas reached out and pulled Dean back to him, tangling their legs in an effort to feel every new inch of Dean at once. He trailed his hands down his arms, his back, his waist, hesitated over the curve of flesh that had teased him for so long, but then dragged his palms over the soft round of Dean’s ass and groaned, not believing how much better this felt than imagining it. 

Dean echoed Cas, groaning into his mouth as Cas’ lip was sucked into his mouth and worried between his teeth. Cas shuddered and jerked his body into Dean’s involuntarily, dragging their cocks against one another. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispered. 

“I thought we were,” Cas deadpanned, testing his sarcasm to its limit. It was hard to maintain composure when Dean Winchester was mostly naked and grinding into you. 

“Not quite yet sunshine,” Dean grinned before his face fell, only slightly. “This, I mean, it’s your first time, right?” Dean’s nerves were suddenly tangible in the cramped space of the front of his car. 

“This is my first encounter with another male’s genitalia, yes,” Cas confirmed, hoping to ease Dean’s worry; they would both be new to this. What he got was Dean bursting into laughter. 

“Jesus, Cas, just call it a cock, okay?” Dean pressed kisses against Cas’ neck, still laughing. 

“Fine,” Cas grunted and pulled Dean up for a bruising kiss. “Then, would you please put your cock in my ass?” Cas spoke the words into Dean’s lips. Dean nodded, dumbstruck, but Cas could see the arousal he had stirred in Dean’s eyes. 

“Good.”