deercountry | catch all for october

[ It is a bit of a conundrum, because a drunk Dean is often a black cloud of misery, but eating literal garbage hasn't done sober Dean any favors. Cas would have a little more pity if Dean would just take his advice and get high and stay high. Those apple cores could become potato chips like that.

But here we are, Cas is left trying to cheer Dean up the old fashioned way, literally. And, uh, yes, looking like a porn star's interpretation of Gerard Way is exactly the point. Cas grins. ]

Okay. But, counterpoint: if you want to keep fighting monsters and ghosts for the rest of the month, you need to do it looking nothing like yourself, right? And this... is nothing you'd wear.

[ Flawless logic. Point, set, match. But, regardless of whether the ploy works or not, Cas is obviously enjoying the fantasy while he has it, pushing his hands against the vest, and Dean's chest as it would be molded beneath it, and ogling the cut it makes like he could see right through Dean's shirt to wonderfully tanned skin, already. ]

[ He's a lot more apt to partake in Cas' vices these days than he ever was before before (in The Before, back home, when the need to find the Colt was the only thing that mattered), if not for that exact reason - he's having to eat fucking garbage.

But getting out of the house is good, and while this isn't his style, Cas unfortunately has a point. A really, really good point.

Dean wasn't around for previous October hellscapes - he's only heard about them from the other Deerington veterans, and what he's heard isn't good, at all. He's been told that if you took his apocalypse and multiplied it by a hundred, then maybe he'd be close. No sleep, rivers of blood and bodies, nightmares come to life.

Then again, how is that any different from their new day to day?

He sighs, pushing the vest away. ]

At least pick a color that actually looks good on me.

[ Deer Country is complicated in the same ways Deerington was: it's violent, nightmarish, and surreal enough to feel like a bad trip. But un-reality has never bothered Cas. Nightmares, he has more than one coping method to deal with. And his favorite one is standing right in front of him, acquiescing to Cas's whims in his typical reticent way. Cas could never call this a nightmare, not with Dean here, pliable to his greedy demands for affection, and generously close enough to touch. Cas' eyebrows lift and his tone drops to indignant, but there's no real disappointment in it. ]

I'm sorry; every color looks good on you.

[ Despite the protest, Cas takes back the vest, sets it back on the shelf it came from, and immediately picks up another of a similar style, but blue and black this time, instead of the white and gold from before. It's less striking but no less flattering. ]

"Black and blue" ? Very in your wheelhouse.

[ For real tho, pls take better care of yourself, Dean. You don't need to come home bruised and bleeding from every fight. ]

Funny.

[ It's true, though -- Dean does often come home from nights of hunting here in Trench battered and bruised.

Exhilarated, though. Cas gets to reap a lot of those benefits, that's for sure. ]

You sure red wouldn't be more fitting? [ But he takes it, looks at it with a critical eye, like it's personally offended him on some level (or like he's judging the workmanship, could go either way), before glancing at Cas, lifting a brow. ]

[ Don't tell anyone, because it would ruin his carefully cultured image as the resident slut, but Cas would much rather than Dean managed his hunts unscathed more often, even if it meant losing those extracurricular benefits.

They are very good benefits, though.

And Cas is very funny, thank you. He leans back, thumbing at his lip absently as takes in this new potential look of Dean's. The color really doesn't matter. As soon as it's on Dean, whether it is, even threadbare flannel: it's art. Cas is a very lucky man. And as the one usually dressing himself in blue to match his own eyes, he likes seeing Dean in the color again, for a change. There's something that feels vaguely possessive about it. Cas' lazy grins sharpens a bit at the corners, going toothy. ]

I think a size down might be more fitting. You'll have to try it on to find out.

Edited 2021-10-19 20:00 (UTC)

[ He'll never tell a soul. Cas' slutty reputation will remain intact as long as Dean is around to protect it. ]

You just don't want me to be able to breathe. This looks ridiculous.

[ He's still holding it, looking a little reluctant even as a store associate is pushing him towards the fitting room, go on, try it! It'll look so good on you!

Dean looks at Cas, the smile on his face, too many teeth for a normal smile and maybe he likes that look on Cas' face, the way he feels wanted, needed, and that's what makes him do it, put the ridiculous thing on then bitch that he cant get it hooked properly someone fucking HELP HIM-- ]

[ Sorry, Dean. Now it's two to one, and Cas is still smiling, chin raised with a jealous sort of pride, as Dean's ushered into the dressing room.

This won't be the shopping montage it could've been back in the old aughts. Certainly not with Dean disappointingly sober as he is. So rather than follow Dean into the dressing room and allow himself the kind of inevitable distraction Cellar Door eagerly provides, he peruses the shelves for a pair of pants that might match that vest, and a flowy kind of shirt Dean will hate, possibly solely because Cas favors them. He's perusing a rack of unnecessarily ornate belts when Dean's melodious cursing from the changing room catch his attention.

Cas makes eye contact with the associate and winks at the end of their non-verbal conversation before lazily pushing his way into the stall to aid in Dean's struggling. He leans back against the door and grins rakishly. ]

Hm... If you're complaining that loudly, it definitely isn't tight enough on you.

[ Cas teases, and as he leans past Dean to set the folded shirt and pants on the bench, he drops a mollifying kiss to Dean's shoulder. His hands stay empty for only a moment before he puts them on Dean's hips just below the loose vest and pushes firmly. ]

Turn around, beautiful.

[ He could drink a glass of water and get sloshed, if that excites you more, Cas. And maybe he should, becauses this is the type of thing he'd never put on sober and yet here he is, struggling with hooks and a trying to lace something and frothing at the mouth. ]

I look ridiculous.

[ The kiss pacifies him a little, reaching to briefly slide his fingers through Cas' hair before allowing himself to be turned around. ]

I feel ridiculous.

[ No depressants while you're depressed, Dean bby. Uppers only, which means water is off the table. Even without the fun stuff, though, Dean is compliant, despite his bellyaching, and Cas is so warmed by Dean's indulgence that no matter of whining can put him off. And, of course, the fingers in his hair only encourages him. Cas hums like a cat's purr. ]

You do, and you should feel ridiculous. Denim and combat boots don't do this lovely piece justice at all.

[ The "piece" being the corset? Or fine piece of ass Cas is currently getting up on, unnecessarily close as he guides Dean's hands away from the front clasps and begins pulling them together properly, hook after hook, tucking in Dean's waist. ]

We'll work on that part next.

[ Cas promises, and he grins at Dean through the mirror in front of him while half of the claps are secured. He rests his chin on Dean's shoulder at first, enjoying the reflected sight, but the temptation of the flesh finally wins out, and he presses his mouth against Dean's neck in dry, soft kisses as he hooks the clasps up to the top of the vest, and then down. ]

[ why not :| He hates not being able to drink and eat normal shit, eating literal garbage is driving him absolutely friggin' nuts. It's awful. ]

You aren't helping.

[ He's whining, but it isn't overly heartfelt; Cas' fingers are on him, it makes the junkie angel happy, and Dean isn't going to look a look a gift horse in the mouth. He likes when Cas is happy, even if it's at his own expense. ]

Denim and combat boots are comfortable, [ he points out, but it's half-hearted, tipping his head to allow for the kisses, holding his arms out to let Cas work. ]

This is a torture device. I expect compensation later. In the hot tub.

[ Don't worry; Cas is here to provide a distraction from all of Dean's woes. (Just no kisses on the mouth, garbage breath.) ]

Comfort and beauty rarely get along.

[ Cas agrees with sympathy, though not enough sympathy to keep from hooking the last clasps, and he leans back, mouth dragged along beneath Dean's ear, to get a look at him in the mirror again, now with the vest fit perfectly, showing off those curves and that fine chest. This is what heaven should've been. ]

You look beautiful.

[ Even in jeans, even in nothing, or anything, and Cas doesn't even try to keep the contented adoration from his tone or expression as he tells Dean so. His hands rest idle on Dean's hips for a quiet moment before sliding forward to start unbuttoning his pants. Obviously Dean is completely capable of getting out of them himself, but where's the fun in that? ]

Mm... So, compensation? In the bath? I'm oblivious. Tell me more.

[ Excuse you, it isn't his fault, he hates it, he just wants kisses :( ]

I really wouldn't know.

[ Like, at all. He can appreciate beauty, is aware of the effort it takes for a woman to get all dolled up or for Cas to take a shower, but he himself has never really...done much of that. It's pretty much 'what you see is what you get' with Dean; he doesn't particularly like wearing suits or anything fancy (though those satin panties were really somethin' else), a flannel button down is about the best he can muster these days.

This is tight and uncomfortable but hell even he has to admit he cuts a fine figure, even if he looks like fuckin' Magic Mike with nothing on under it. ]

You know what I mean. You, me, lavender bubbles, nudity required.

[ Well maybe if he didn't eat garbage and instead accepted the zen that comes with being plastered 24/7, he'd get them.

If Dean were more inclined to primping and dressing up as he arguably might've been once, back in olden times, it wouldn't make this encounter any less fun for Cas, but it would make it less meaningful. Dean's obvious reluctance only makes Cas that much more flattered that Dean is willing to do this for him. For Cas amazingly and strangely, of all people.

He feels indebted to Dean, alright. A bath isn't nearly enough compensation, but that doesn't stop Cas from indulging the idea. He chuckles into Dean's neck while unbuckling his belt for him. ]

Nudity? How scandalous. You aren't implying something obscene might happen, are you?

[ The words are emphasized with a tug of Dean's open jeans down, just an inch, lower on his hips and the nip of Cas's teeth against Dean's neck. ]

[ Even back then he'd felt like a seventh grader at his first dance, awkward and out of sorts.

But for Cas, for you, he's allowing this to happen - and he might even wear it. ]

Would I do that? Just who do you think I am, huh Cas?

[ He smirks in the mirror, eyes locking on Cas' blue ones, still feeling silly in the outfit but enjoying the game they're playing, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, reaching to hook his fingers in his waistband near Cas' fingers. ]

[ Might? He's already wearing it. Even if it never leaves this little closet of a dressing room of theirs, Cas still thoroughly appreciates what Dean is doing for him. Especially once what Dean is doing for him is smirking like that and thumbing his own pants further down beneath the V or blue satin. Cas's breath catches, smirk fading a little under the heat of arousal. ]

Ah... You're right. I should apologize for the implication.

[ He demurs, only to spread his hands over Dean's at his hips, drag his thumbs against Dean's wrists and lift up on his toes to whisper against Dean's ear between soft kisses along his jaw. ]

How would you like my apology, Dean? Hm? Right now, with my mouth? Or later, in that bath, with my entire body?

You should apologize. That's a very rude accusation and I won't stand for it.

[ Dean's smirk widens a little, leeeaning back into Cas, tugging his jeans down another fraction of an inch.

Cas, you have no idea how much he loves you. ]

I'm inclined to collect now and later. It's been a while since I've had your mouth on me, and I really like our bathtub.

catch all for october

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this is like playing chicken with content warnings HOW MANY TAGS CAN WE GO

lmaaaooo i was just thinking that like hmm...how much farther...can we go

cw: this is clearly a platonic relationship; not every smut tag between them needs to be sexual

cw: it's innocent and wholesome idk what you mean

cw: exactly, anyone who sees this thread as smut is looking too deeply into it

cw: they're good boys who would never fuck in a dressing room