Work Text:
Ping Pong
“Jesus, Cas, you gotta give me a minute,” Dean said through ragged breath.
A soft groan fell from the angel’s lips. “It’s only our third time.”
Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine.” With a clench, Dean braced himself.
And boy, Cas didn’t go easy.
“Fuck, Cas!”
Cas just grunted in response, going faster, somehow harder.
Dean couldn’t even close his eyes to blink, but managed to spare a moment to wipe his brow. Each strike, thrust, left Dean breathless and almost dizzy.
“Oh, Dean,” Cas gasped when Dean got a second wind and was able to keep up with him.
But Dean gave as good as he got. He let out a drawn out groan, a vain attempt at catching his breath. With one last smack, it was over.
Cas let out a winded, “Yes!” And finally came to a stop. His shoulders heaved with each shudder of breath. And yet the bastard still wasn’t sweating.
Dean laughed, a sound punctured by his own labored breathing. “You just keep getting better and better at that.”
To Dean’s pleasant surprise, that garnered the exact response he was hoping for.
A ducked gaze, and a shy smile. It happened more and more since they had been reunited.
Dean would never forget that moment. The road came to an end at a stretch of dirt road that led to a cabin at the edge of a lake.
One of Bobby’s old properties.
While Dean hadn’t expected to find Cas there, he wasn’t surprised when he opened the door and found Cas in the kitchen, the sound of his cursing drowned out by metal pans crashing into each other, utensils being dropped. Things were boiling, and burning.
It looked like a damn bomb had gone off.
For a reunion, it really couldn’t be beat. Dean had chuckled, Cas had turned to him. A frantic, worried expression quickly morphed into one of relief.
And then it all became a bit of a blur. Dean had no idea who grabbed who first, but suddenly Cas’s arms ended up wrapped around Dean’s torso, and Dean's arms naturally fell around the angel’s shoulders.
Dean might not have initiated the hug, but it damn sure was his grip that tightened. They weren’t going to let anything ruin this moment. Not a single, world-saving, dream-ending confession. Cas was okay. And Dean was finally at peace.
It wouldn’t have been Heaven without Cas.
Without the tick of a clock, or a warning bell of doom over their heads, Dean and Cas got to experience something they only caught glimpses of when they were alive. It was domestic, and cozy, and fulfilling. It was… well, Heaven.
Dean smiled at Cas, soaking in this moment together. Breathless and exhausted, but ready to go again. Even though time didn’t matter, they never held back. “You up for another round?”
Cas chuckled and nodded. He pulled off his trench coat and draped it over the barstool behind him. His eyebrow was quirked when he turned back to face Dean, approaching the table with an almost swagger. Cas even rolled up his sleeves before he picked up his paddle. “If I win this game, I win the match.”
“Somone’s got big dreams.” Dean clenched his paddle again and grabbed one of the balls.
“Yes, he does,” Cas returned smoothly.
Yeah. Heaven.