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"I hate this."
"What do you hate now?"
"I'm just sitting here," he exclaimed. "I wanna be doing something,"
"I realize that you're uncomfortable with inactivity Dean, but this is inactivity you'll have to bear with," Castiel said without looking away from the TV screen.
"Says who?" Dean asked petulantly.
"Says Doctor Turner. Now shush, you're the one that wanted to watch this."
Dean shushed and they sat together in silence, watching Captain Kirk rush about the Enterprise, trying to get to Uhura and ask about some transmission she overheard. When he found out about his numb-tongue, Dean groaned again and rolled his head back onto the couch with exasperation. Castiel only rolled his eyes and continued to pay attention to the movie.
"Dean, you're going to have to get used to this. This is what happens when you break a bone. You have to let it heal."
"Yeah, yeah," Dean mumbled, but Castiel was unconvinced. He eyed the man sitting on the other end of the couch. Dean's leg was propped up on the coffee table with a couple pillows to keep him comfortable, but he continued to shift restlessly.
Castiel snatched up the remote and paused Star Trek. "Alright, Dean. Tell me, what would you be doing right now if you hadn't broken your leg?"
"Uggh, I don't know. Something. Maybe go over to Sam's."
"Well, you can't go there, but…" Castiel trailed off as he pulled out his phone and dialed. He heard ringing and turned on speaker-phone. Two rings and Sam answered, "Hey, Cas."
"Hello, Sam. Your brother is whining. He says he feels like he should be 'doing something.'"
Sam laughed on the other and end of the line Dean was quick to defend his honor. "Hey, I'm whining for good reason. It's been a week and I've only been outside to get the paper!"
Sam said, "C'mon, man. You know why you can't go out. The Doctor said if you needed to go out, you could, but otherwise, to stay put." Dean only grumbled under his breath in response.
"So how is Jess doing, Sam? She's almost seven months, right?" Castiel asked amiably.
"She's good. She misses the shop, but she knows it's better to stay at home and not worry about making things worse, unlike some people I know."
"Alright, I get it!" Dean barked and threw his hands up in surrender.
"So, no more complications, then?" Castiel asked.
"No, with enough rest and some iron supplements, she's doing a lot better. The baby's fine too, we just had another ultrasound a couple days ago." Sam assures them.
"That's good," Dean says. "Jess is even scarier when she's sick."
That earned a chuckle from Sam. "What about you two? Is Bobby doing okay without you, Dean?"
"Yeah, he'll manage. Jo's been itching to get lead in more jobs, anyway. They won't miss me."
"Dean, they'll always miss you whether or not they have anyone to cover for you," Cas says with a frown on his face.
"Seriously, Dean, they love you there and you're the best stunt driver they have. They'll always feel it when you're not there."
Dean waved his hand dismissively even though Sam couldn't see it. They continued talking, the three of them, for almost another hour. They talked about silly, unimportant things and laughed at Dean's lame jokes. Sam never missed an opportunity to tease the stuntman for breaking his leg by falling out of a tree (Dean had been attempting to retrieve a lost Frisbee for a crying kid and hadn't noticed the branch he was on was rotting) of all things. Finally, Sam said he needs to catch up on some reading for school and says goodbye, leaving Dean and his roommate alone together again.
"There. We caught up with Sam. We did something. Feel better?" Castiel asked with a small smile.
"Yeah, a little." Dean says He glanced at Cas, then quickly looked away, towards the TV.
"Dean, what is it?"
"Look, I know I've been whining a lot lately. I guess- I just-" Dean rolled his eyes in frustration and finally got the thought out, "Thanks. You know, for putting up with me. I know I can be a pain."
Castiel smiled warmly and reached out, covering Dean's hand with his own. "Dean, it's hardly a burden."
Dean looked down at their hands and his cheeks colored. He opened his mouth to say something. Something to indicate that he liked the touching, to reciprocate this small amount of affection that Castiel had shown him. His brain froze up and before he had caught up though, Castiel let go, heading towards the kitchen with the empty popcorn bowl.
Dean had been nursing this crush since the day that Castiel showed up on his doorstep, responding to Dean's newspaper ad looking for a roommate. It didn't help that Cas was a looker, either. As they seemed to do with everyone, Cas' eyes had made an instant impression on Dean. Cas' politeness and genuine concern for people had been endearing too. Dean both hated and loved Castiel's tendency to be socially inept and it could be hilarious or infuriating depending on who it was directed at. They had only been living together for three months or so, but Cas had somehow, already, wormed his way under Dean's skin.
Castiel pulled a beer and a soda out of the fridge after setting another bag of popcorn to pop in the microwave. Dean knew what the soda was for and quickly said, "C'mon! Can't I have a beer?"
"Dean, we just talked about the whining. Alcohol and your pain medication do not mix well."
Cas pulled the popcorn out of the microwave and deposited it into the bowl carefully.
"How is your leg, by the way? Do you need another pill?" Castiel asked and hands over Dean's soda.
Dean took the bottle that Cas proffered and cracked it open. Cas opened his own bottle and took a swig, Dean looking on longingly. "If I don't take another pill, will you give me a beer?"
"No, Dean. Now, do you want another pill?"
"Yeah, sure."
Castiel walked away down the hall and Dean took the opportunity to enjoy the view of Cas' ass in his light grey pajama bottoms. Cas liked to run and it shows in the shape of his legs and the curve of his well-sculpted rear. Dean shook his head of that line of thought as Cas disappeared around the corner, presumably to retrieve Dean's medication; his leg was aching a bit.
He looked over and noticed that Cas had left his beer on the coffee table. He quickly reached over, feeling a twinge in his leg and grabbed the bottle. He quickly fit it to his lips and started chugging. He was a practiced drinker, and the liquid slipped down his throat easily. Almost the entire bottle was gone when Dean heard the medicine cabinet slam shut and footsteps started returning towards the living room. He gently put the bottle down and arranged him back in his original position.
Cas appeared and held out a single pill for Dean who took it and washed it down with his soda without another word. Cas raised an eyebrow at the lack of complaint, but said nothing, just sitting down and picking up the remote. Once the movie was playing again, Cas reached for his beer and was about to put it to his own lips when he seemed to notice that it was much lighter than it should have been. His eyes slid over to Dean's face, which was resolutely trained on Chris Pine.
"Dean."
"Yes, Castiel?"
"Dean, you drank my beer."
Dean gasped theatrically and put a hand to his chest, looking affronted. "I would never-"
"Dean."
"C'mon Cas, stop worrying. I'll be fine."
"Yes, well, when your head is spinning later, don't blame me."
Later, while Kirk was meeting Scotty for the first time, Dean was blinking slowly and feeling a fog overtake his brain. He lolled his head around and looked at Cas, who'd got himself a new beer and was intently watching the movie. "You like Star Trek?" he asked lazily.
Cas' eyes slipped over to Dean's face and he raised an eyebrow quizzically. Dean didn't notice, but his shoulders slipped closer to Cas' and he spoke again. "You know, I like this kid, but Shatner was a lot cooler."
"Is that so?"
Dean scoffed and lightly smacked Cas' shoulder. "Of course, man. Shatner kicked ass and, and…yeah."
Cas chuckled and said, "Mr. Pine isn't bad. He's very attractive."
"So was Shatner! Have you ever seen him in the original series?" Dean was starting to slur ever so slightly.
"Mr. Pine's lips are very distracting," Cas said absently.
"Cas! Have you got a crush?" Cas' face flushed and he glanced at Dean. Before Cas could answer, Dean put a hand on Cas' shoulder and said, "It's alright. Crushes can be rough. I know that- that you can't have him, but hey! You can look all you want. Right?"
"Yes, Dean. I suppose I can always just look."
Dean was about to respond when he looked over and saw Cas staring at him. Cas' eyes were traveling all over Dean's face and couldn't help it, his own face flushed. Distractedly, Dean said, "Just look."
"Dean, do you…" Cas trailed off and continued to stare. His eyes flickered between Dean's eyes and his mouth for just a second before he turned back to the TV and cleared his throat. "Do you want to continue watching this? You seem to be nodding off."
"Mm. Yeah. Bed." Dean stretched luxuriously and reached for his crutches propped against the end of the couch. He grabbed for them and they fell over, impacting loudly with the wood floor. Suddenly, a strong pair of hands started turning him and tried to loop his arm around Cas' shoulder.
"Come on, Dean. I can get you the 15 feet to your room," Cas said amusedly.
He groaned at the stretch of his muscles after being still for so long as heaved himself up off the couch with Cas' support. Dean leaned into Cas' warmth and let himself be led away from the living room, towards his room. "Cas, you're great."
"You're great, too, Dean," Cas said warmly.
"Seriously, man, you are. You can cook, you teach really complicated stuff to people--Anthropology--and you have a nice ass."
"Dean-"
Before Cas can say anything, Dean's hand slapped onto his left butt cheek and Cas released a tiny yelp.
"Dean!"
"See? You could bounce a quarter off 'a that thing." He let go as they reach Dean's bed, much to Cas' relief.
As he settled Dean onto the foot of his bed, Cas said, "You're a handsy drunk, Dean."
"M'not drunk. Drugged," Dean says lamely as he flopped back onto his bed.
"Of course," Cas agreed with a chuckle and surveyed the man sprawled out on the bed. He was already wearing clothes that would not be uncomfortable in bed, but he knew Dean liked to sleep in just boxers. He was about to ask Dean if he needed help, but Dean took it upon himself to start removing his own clothes. He was failing miserably, though; his shirt got tangled around his head. Cas rushed in to help and in a few moments, Dean's head was on his pillow and he was down to his preferred level of clothing.
As the darkness of sleep closed in around him, Dean felt a hand on his face, just a slight caress. A voice said, "Sleep well, Dean."
In the morning, Dean awoke, groggy and grumpy. He turned and saw his crutches propped up against his night stand. Had Cas put those there? Cas. Castiel's ass. He'd grabbed it last night; downright groped it. Dean groaned and sat up, putting his face in his hands. "Holy shit," He mumbled to himself as his mind went reeling around the possible outcomes of Dean's unwanted advances.
Dean reached for his crutches and was able to get himself out of bed without much trouble. He got the crutches situated and started making his way out into the apartment. He glanced at hos clock and seeing it was almost 10:00 AM, Cas would definitely be back from any run he might have been on. He made his way into the hall and heard the sounds of cooking from the kitchen. He trudged across the living room and turned left into the kitchen. Cas was standing over the stove with damp hair and the smell and sound sizzling bacon in a pan.
"Good morning, Dean."
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "Hey Cas. Um, about-"
"I have bacon and eggs on the way and there's coffee for you on the table." Dean looked over and spotted a steaming mug of coffee on the kitchen table. "Oh wow, thanks," Dean responded lamely and moved further into the kitchen. "Cas, I-"
"Here you go." Cas set a plate of bacon and two fried eggs on the kitchen table next to the mug. It looked delicious.
"Okay, um, thanks again." Dean managed to settle himself into the chair at the table without much fuss. He picked up his fork just as Castiel was setting his own plate down and sitting across from Dean.
"Alright, so…" Dean started around a bite of bacon. "Sorry about last night."
"What do you mean?" Castiel asked smoothly as he cut up hit own fried eggs with the side of his fork.
Dean's face heated and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You know! For the-the grabbing."
Castiel continued to arrange his breakfast just so. "Grabbing?"
Dean was about to get more embarrassed when he saw Cas looking at him through his eyelashes with an easy smirk on his face. The dick was making fun of him! Dean flicked a scrap of bacon at his face, making Castiel flinch. "You dick."
"It's alright, Dean. There's no reason to apologize. But I hope you've learned your lesson about drinking and pain killers."
"Drinking and painkillers leads to embarrassing gropings," Dean said conclusively. They sat and ate in silence for a few moments. Cas got Dean a mug of coffee, leaving it black, just the way Dean preferred.
"By the way, do you really like it that much?" Cas asked.
"Like what that much?"
"My ass."
Dean choked on his coffee. Once he coughed his throat clear he croaked, "Um, yeah. I guess." He rubbed the back of neck and avoided eye-contact at all costs.
"I like yours too," Cas dead-panned.
"You- you what?"
"Your rear is nice. It looks like it would be pleasing to the touch. Though, I have no idea if you could 'bounce a quarter off of it.'"
Dean couldn't help but stare, now. He felt the heat in his face increase a thousand-fold and despite himself, a grin spread across his face. He chuckled, and said, "Cas are you trying to flirt with me?"
Cas held Dean's gaze and asked, "I suppose so. Am I doing it right?"
"I dunno about 'right' but it's working."
Cas smiled widely and idly pushed his food around his plate. "Good."