Archive of Our Own

I reside in 209, you’re in 208

Dean walked slowly up the many stairs of the apartment building he was living in. He was tired and sore from a long day’s travel and all he wanted to do was to take a hot shower and eat a mountain of food. Too bad he didn’t really have anything at home. He knew he should’ve gone shopping before going home but shit, it just seemed so tiresome.

Sam had called him on his way back and wondered how Dean was doing; it was a long drive to take on your own after all. Dean had wanted to sneer at him that maybe if he visited Dean once in a while and not only the other way around it wouldn’t feel so bad but he kept shut. Dean had already been a douche about Sam leaving for Stanford but he tried really hard to make up for it. Hell, he couldn’t really blame Sammy for walking out on their alcoholic father, he had after all done about the same thing what with the whole move to this craptastic apartment, but still. Stanford was in friggin’ California and Dean was still here in Lawrence. Alone.

Well, at least Sam would be coming home over the summer, and would probably be working with Dean at Bobby’s auto shop to earn him some spending money to have on the side of his scholarship. That was going to be awesome.

As he finally reached the landing his apartment was on (finally, seriously, why the hell had he moved here again? And wasn’t the 200-reds supposed to be on the second floor?!), he spotted the door to his hot neighbor Pamela Barnes standing open.

Curious, he glanced in, having on many occasions been flirting with Pamela but always striking out. What was her home like? Messy, he thought, as he saw the hallway full of boxes and scattered belongings.

A man emerged from the chaos, the stick of a lollipop sticking out between his teeth. He really didn’t look like someone Pamela would usually bring home so Dean found himself staring a little more than necessary. Of course the man noticed.

"See anything you like?" He said, his tone playful even as his eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Actually, I was just thinking you’re way out of Pam’s league."

"Ouch." The man opened one of the boxes but closed it immediately, apparently not finding what he was looking for. "I might be offended by that, if I knew who Pam is." He continued and his statement made Dean pause with his key in the lock.

"Pamela?" he clarified but the man just raised his eyebrows. "The one whose apartment you’re in?"

He laughed suddenly and it sounded easy. Dean smiled despite himself.

"Oh Ms. Barnes?" he shook his head. "She’s not living here anymore, haven’t you heard?"

Dean unlocked his door but didn’t open it. He pocketed his keys. "I’ve been away for two weeks, heard what?"

The man rubbed his neck. "Well, she moved out." He said and gestured to the boxes. "Quite quickly too, she was in some accident I think. Went blind or something."

Dean’s face fell. "Really?"

"Yeah, were you close?"

"No..." Dean considered this. He had very few friends and he didn’t even talk regularly to those few he had. Besides Sam and Bobby, he guessed Pam was the one he had actually talked most frequently. Even if their conversations had mostly consisted of polite small-talk in the stairs. "Well, kinda." He added with a shrug and the guy winced.

"Sorry, mate." He said but then suddenly smirked again. "But hey, on the plus-side you’re gonna be neighbors with my baby bro from now on."

Dean actually found himself laughing at the statement. "Oh yeah? Well lucky me I guess?"

"You bet’cha."

And with a wink he was going off into the apartment, carrying one of the boxes and chewing noisily on his lollipop. Dean frowned slightly. What a weird guy. Seriously. He sighed and hoped that the brother of someone like that wasn’t going to be too much to handle.

You moved in last Friday night,
and I just couldn’t wait

After that first meeting with the Candyman (yeah, Dean wasn’t that good with nicknames) there had been some ruckus in the stairs but after that there had only been silence. Dean’s apartment would share a wall with the other guy’s and Dean knew from experience that it was the bedroom wall (Pamela had been somewhat vocal during sex and the walls were thinner than any of the inhabitants would care to admit).

Dean’s apartment was the middle one on the floor and therefore the smallest, with only a small bedroom and a combined living room/kitchen. Pamela’s old place was at least two bedrooms, Dean had estimated just from the size of the hallway he had glimpsed. These days, however, it was suspiciously quiet on the other side of the wall.

In fact, it wasn’t until two days later, on Friday, that Dean actually heard anyone moving about in the apartment. There was shuffling that could only be furniture being pushed around and Dean couldn’t tell why but he actually smiled. It felt good knowing the place was being used. He was just thinking about the quick conversation he had had with Pamela just that day (just to make sure she was okay, which she probably wasn’t even though she’d said she was. At least she hadn’t gone completely blind like that guy had led Dean to believe) when there was a loud crash from the other side.

Curious, Dean rose from his seat on his bed and just kind of looked at the wall that separated him and his new neighbor. There was more shuffling and Dean smiled again. The guy was obviously having trouble moving stuff around. He chuckled to himself and turned to go to the kitchen but was stopped in his tracks when he suddenly heard another crash and a loud yelp coming from the other side.

Intrigued, he turned back to the wall but there was no other sound.

Dean pressed his lips together. Would it be rude or creepy of him to knock on the door and ask if the guy needed help? Kinda, he supposed, but he had to admit that between the crashing and the guy’s brother Dean was curious. Besides, Bobby had given him the whole week off for the trip and he was getting antsy just sitting around.

Shrugging he went to the door. If nothing else, he could just pretend to be welcoming his new neighbor to the building, there was nothing strange about that right? People still did that?

Just as he stepped out into the hallway the door to 208 opened too and Dean stopped dead at the sight that met him.

The man that walked out was breath-taking. He had a squared face with a strong jaw, slight five o’ clock stubble just barely seen. His hair looked like sex defined and his lips should be illegal. Dean felt his knees buckling slightly. He had known for a long time that he was bisexual but he tended to lean towards women, but this... this was something fucking else. The man practically glowed for God’s sake!

Dean snapped his jaw shut when he realized it’d been open. The man still hadn’t seen Dean and Dean was just about to clear his throat when the man fiddled with his keys and started humming tunelessly under his breath.

Oh my fucking God.

Even this low Dean could hear how deep the man’s voice was. It was like whisky on the rocks. It was like gravel and thunder and it was like sex.

What the hell?

Dean had to grip the door handle to steady himself. He had never, ever, been this affected by just the sight of someone. Dean liked to think he usually was a pretty cool guy. He was usually in charge when picking up a sex-partner and people seemed to like that. They were drawn to his devil-may-care attitude and cockiness.

All of that had just escaped him at the sight of this epiphany of a man, though. How... how lame.

Dean gulped as his eyes trailed the movement of the man’s slim fingers when he locked the door to his apartment. Just the thought of those fingers on Dean’s body made his face heat. How they would swivel and prod and...

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when he saw the man’s other hand. It was wrapped in what seemed to be toilet paper, held above his shoulder, and most of it was red.

Blood, Dean realized and frowned as he stepped further out into the stairs.

The man looked up at the sudden movement and Dean froze again, his jaw nearly dropping once more. The man’s eyes. They were... They... Fuck.

"Oh... Hello." The man said and looked uncertainly at Dean and Dean could barely conceal his shudder at the man’s deep voice.

"Um... Yeah, hi." He said, not blushing. Smooth. "What happened?"

The man looked at his hand when Dean pointed at it but quickly looked away, looking slightly nauseated. Dean dared step closer when the man closed his eyes briefly.

"I had an accident."

"Clearly."

"I..." Fuck, Dean couldn’t help following the bob of the man’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed. "I can’t stand the sight of blood."

"So you were gonna go out like that?" Dean asked, actually amused but when the man looked at him desperately his felt his smile drop. Oh no, this man should never look like that, ever.

"I was going to my brother, I couldn’t find any Band-Aids and I... I can’t look at it."

Curiously enough, he didn’t seem in the least embarrassed to admit this to a total stranger. In fact, despite his slightly elevated hand covered in blood, he still held himself with surprising dignity. Dean supposed that that was why he did what he did and certainly not because he wanted to take advantage of the gorgeous man’s distress.

"Well, I can look at it for you." He said, his voice actually steady. Kudos. "If you—if you want." He added in a mumbled when the man cocked his head to the side in confusion. Not kudos.

God, Dean felt so lame. This was not a fucking damsel in distress and Dean was not a fucking knight. That much is obvious, he thought as he felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment. He wasn’t acting like himself. What had he even been thinking?

"Sure."

Dean’s head snapped up and he stared surprised at the man. "What?"

The man shrugged. "If it’s not too much trouble?"

"Nah... I." Dean mentally shook himself. "Of course not, come in." He opened his door wide. "I even have Band-Aids." He tried to wink and felt butterflies in his stomach when the man’ lips quirked up ever so slightly.

"That’s very kind of you." He said and stepped past Dean. If Dean inhaled the man’s musky scent and felt himself reeling from it, it was nothing the man noticed. "I’m Castiel." He said when Dean had followed him inside.

"Dean."

Castiel quirked his lips again. "Nice to meet you, Dean."

So I tried to call across the hall,
To ask you out someday
But a lineup formed outside your door,
And I was way too late

Three days later Dean still hadn’t talked to Castiel again even though he desperately wanted to. He’d seen the guy once, though, briefly as Dean was leaving and Cas was coming home and they’d smiled to each other, Castiel waving his previously injured hand at him and Dean had smiled back but, Jesus fuck, he had just wanted to slam the man up against the wall and kiss him silly. Which in itself was silly. Dean was silly.

He sighed to himself as he opened his door on the fourth day, preparing to go to a no-doubt boring dinner with friends who he actually loved but who wasn’t what he needed right now. He had heard Castiel puttering about in his apartment a few times during the day, clanking and shuffling and it had sounded nice. He knew the other man was preparing his home, nesting in the way most people did when they had just moved in somewhere new. Suddenly Dean was hating his own apartment.

He was so caught up in his own musings that he was almost a little startled to see another man out in the hallway, in front of Castiel’s door.

"Oh. Hi." He mumbled more out of reflex than anything else.

The other man just inclined his head a little and turned back to watching Castiel’s door with sharp eyes. Dean shrugged and closed his door to lock it and just as he was turning back Castiel opened his.

"Fergus." He exclaimed, obviously pleased to see the other man and that shouldn’t hurt, should it? Probably not, but to hear the gravelly tone directed at someone else with such fondness was hurtful. Which was stupid. "I wasn’t expecting you until three, come in." He stepped to the side to let the man in and Fergus (stupid name) peeled off his peacoat. That was when Castiel noticed Dean who was just standing there and staring at them stupidly. "Dean." He said and fuck it all if he didn’t sound just as happy to see Dean. Or was Dean projecting?

"Hiya." Dean mumbled and shuffled like he was going to start walking away but fuck if he did.

"Fergus, this is the guy I was talking about." He turned back to Dean with a smile that shouldn’t look as sexy as it did. "Dean, this is my friend."

Friend my ass, Dean wanted to scream because the man’s whole posture had changed when Cas had called out to Dean. This was clearly a lover or boyfriend or someone who wanted to be either and he wasn’t liking Dean’s eyes on Castiel, that was for sure.

"So you’re the hero that dealt with the whimpering mess Cassie turns into at the sight of blood?" Fergus asked with a thick British accent that really could have been quite nice to listen to if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was sneering condescendingly and what the fuck had he just called Castiel?

"Behave." Castiel sighed.

Dean stared angrily at Fergus but didn’t raise to the challenge. "I suppose so." He said in an even voice and then tipped his head to Castiel in a mock of the other man’s previous gesture. "Have a good day, Castiel."

He was being childish, he knew, and Castiel might interpret it as Dean being mad at him, which really wasn’t true. He was angry, though. Because there was obviously something going on with Cas and that douche and that grated on Dean’s nerves. Plus, the guy was probably a douche to Castiel too and that felt even worse.

God-fucking-damnit, Dean should have talked to Castiel yesterday when they met in the hallway. Should’ve kissed him.

Well I'd rather start off slow,
This whole thing's like some sort of race
Instead of winning what I want,
I'm sitting here in second place

That night was the worst.

Castiel had clearly not figured out how thin the walls were and after tonight Dean was sorely tempted to tell him. But he was at a fault too and was too chicken-shit to admit it.

Dean got home late in the evening and after having managed to have a pretty great time, he had talked to Jo and Ash about his new smoking hot, probably unavailable, neighbor and they had taken pity on him. So they had spent the night eating and drinking, shooting pool and flirting, and it had been fun.

So he was pleasantly buzzed but tired when he eventually stumbled home and was intent on a shower and then the world’s longest sleep. But no such luck.

As soon as Dean entered his bedroom to remove his clothes he heard them. Heard Castiel and that Fergus guy clearly fucking and realized pretty quickly that Castiel obviously had chosen the room on the other side of the wall as his bedroom, just like Pamela had, and god-fucking-damnit.

Fergus could only be heard occasionally and only very dully but Castiel… Castiel had the most beautiful song. He moaned and keened, begged and demanded. His gravelly voice ranged from a deep timbre to a high-pitched wail.

Dean was instantly hard in his suddenly confining jeans. Sweat broke out all over his body and he ripped off his Henley before he could even think about it.

He had heard Pamela on a couple of occasions and he was sure she had heard him as well but they had both been aware of the thinness of the cheap ass walls and they had been respectful. Besides, neither of them were obviously as vocal as Castiel. It was one thing to hear a quiet moan or two, you’d still be able to look the other in the eye even after that but this…

Fuck, Dean knew he would be having trouble looking Castiel in the eye after this for a number of reasons. One would be the sheer unadulterated lust that laced every sound that escaped Castiel, the other was the obvious volume.

The third reason was the way he ripped open his jeans and plastered himself to the wall. He braced one hand on it and leaned his forehead against the wall as he started jacking himself to the sound of Castiel getting plowed in the other room.

Castiel was pleading for faster, harder, deeper and Dean wanted so desperately to give it to him.

When Castiel started sobbing for relief, Dean moaned lowly and started fucking his fist more than stroking his cock. Fuck he was so hard and leaking enough that it ran over his fingers and dribbled down to the floor.

"He’s not good enough for you, Cas." Dean mumbled through clenched teeth. "Let me, I’ll give you want you want. I’d do you so good. I’d take care of you."

He realized he wasn’t just talking about the sex and knew the thought should have scared him like it usually did but it so didn’t. The way Castiel’s eyes had shone when Dean bandaged his cut hand had made Dean feel warm in a way no one else had made him feel.

"Please." Castiel groaned brokenly just then, loud enough for Dean to easily catch it and fuck, Dean was so there, just a little more to get Castiel off first.

Dean came with a quiet grunt when Castiel screamed out his orgasm. The force of it made Dean’s knees buckle and he leaned against the wall as he slid down it to sit on the floor. He realized way too late that he had managed to basically smear the come he had shot on the wall all over his naked back.

"Fuck." He muttered, for a number of reasons.

I wanna be that someone,
That you're with
And I can talk about it all day long,
'Til I run out of breath

"It’s fucking torture, Sammy."

"I get that."

Sam was being extremely attentive and kind, Dean knew, but he had no one else to lash out at right now.

"What the fuck do you know? You’ve got your girl."

Castiel had been fucking that Fergus dude at least three times more that Dean knew about in the week since he last saw the two men and what the actual fuck? Had the guy moved in there or what?

Sam just sighed and the sound was overly loud in the phone. "Dean, do you think Jess just magically appeared before me like some kind of offering?"

"No, I know." He muttered and kicked at the chair where he stood leaned against his kitchen table, far enough away from the bedroom that he was sure Castiel wouldn’t overhear if he accidentally started shouting at his brother.

"You don’t know because you were all the way over there, like I’m over here."

Dean bristled despite the fact that there was no malice whatsoever in Sam’s voice. "Fuck you, I know anyway." He spat and sat down so he wouldn’t do something stupid, like cracking open a bottle of Jack, perhaps? "You called me every day."

"I did." Sammy cut in with a hard tone that made Dean shut his trap. "And you weren’t half as understanding or helpful as I’m being with you."

"That’s because Jess was single!" Dean exclaimed and knew full well he was in for a bitchface worthy of travelling through the phone line.

"I cried over her once and you called me princess." Sam’s voice was laced with venom and the guilt almost made Dean vomit. Sammy was gonna make an excellent lawyer.

"Yeah, well…" he harrumphed. "You can call me worse if I get to crying as well." Not that he would because that would be stupid. He was just aggravated because he wanted to fuck Castiel like the man obviously craved to be fucked, if his desperate cries were anything to go by. At this point he wasn’t even sure if Fergus was teasing Castiel or simply sucked in bed.

"That’s just ridiculous and you know I won’t." Sam stated evenly but then lapsed into what Dean just knew was his thinking mode. This didn’t bode well. "Is it that bad, though?"

Not good at all.

"Nah." Dean deflected expertly. "Just a case of blue-balls, right? And he’s hot as sin."

"Gross, Dean." Sam sighed. "And also untrue, I think."

"You don’t believe he’s hot? I’ll take a picture, let Jess decide."

This sigh was even deeper and Dean didn’t even know how that was possible. The phone practically vibrated with it.

"I don’t think this is just about sex, Dean. Or you wouldn’t be calling me like this. I’m even starting to think that you’ve talked to Jo about this but don’t want to do it again or she would call you on it too fast for your liking."

Damn lawyering shit.

"You’re just worried that Jess’ll abandon you for Cas, and let me tell you, I don’t even know if he likes women but she’ll wanna try."

"You’re gross and immature now, Dean. And I know that’s just your bullshit attitude for dealing with rough shit so I’m not gonna talk to you until you’ve calmed down. Tell the others I said hi."

And then the fucker hung up on him.

Dean just stared at the phone for a while, letting Sam’s assessment of the situation sink in, and then his mind went blank. He called it self-preservation, Sammy called it cowardice mixed with desperation.

Captain Morgan and Jack Daniels called it an invitation for them to join the party.

Well I hear your favorite songs,
You sing along with everyday
And I borrow things that I don't need,
For conversation’s sake

Another week had gone by. A week of talking his friends’ ears off, of Sammy telling him he was being childish, of listening to Castiel doing stuff in his apartment (sex or otherwise), of awkward conversations in the hall.

And the last thing was the weirdest. Sure, Dean was being awkward because he had had to listen to the man he wanted have sex with someone else on a fairly regular basis, but why was Castiel awkward?

Well, Dean had come to learn that the man in general was pretty weird, but not in a bad way. Just more like he didn’t have the same knowledge of some social cues. Like, he stared a lot and sometimes got uncomfortably close up to Dean while they talked. It was seriously like he was drawn like a magnet or something. Not that Dean was complaining about the proximity, it was just that it was hard for him to control his grabby hands when he got his nose full of the man’s seriously delicious scent.

Sometimes Castiel looked like he was waiting for Dean to say something, like he wanted Dean to break the figurative wall between them, but Dean was fairly certain he was just projecting his own wants and needs so he never did say something out of the ordinary.

It was frankly bad enough that he masturbated every night to either thoughts of the man or to the sounds of him having sex with what Dean had had to assume was his boyfriend.

The last few days had rendered that assumption somewhat questionable, though, which was why Dean found himself outside of Castiel’s apartment, seconds away from ringing the bell.

There had been a fight between the two men at the beginning of the week. Dean hadn’t been able to hear everything because they were obviously not fighting in the bedroom. But the voices had been loud enough for him to hear anyway. And then the next day they had apparently made up because they had had sex again.

Only that sex had seemed pretty tame and it had been obvious that Castiel hadn’t been very into it. Hadn’t stopped Dean from coming hard when Castiel let out a ragged cry as he came as well but that wasn’t the point.

The biggest point here was that as far as Dean knew, Fergus hadn’t been visiting Castiel in the last three days. And now here Dean stood, like a fucking moron, finger posed just in front of the doorbell, prepared to press it.

Or had he already pressed down on it? Shit, he had and the door was totally opening and Dean was such a tool.

"Dean?" Castiel asked and his face settled on something between surprise and happiness.

Dean just stared for a moment because fuck, the man was so gorgeous it hurt Dean’s eyes to look at him. He had a stubble going strong, which he always kind of did (it was hot as fuck), but it seemed fuller now. Dean wanted to scratch his fingers through it.

"Yeah, um, hi." Velvety smooth, Winchester…

Castiel shuffled on his feet a little and let go of the door to hug himself. He smiled fondly, maybe overly fondly for someone he didn’t even know that well. "Hello, Dean."

Okay, Dean loved hearing his name in that whisky and smoke voice but this was ridiculous.

"I was just…" What was he? "I was cooking dinner and I broke my measuring cup." He was lame was what he was. Tooltooltooltooltool.

Castiel blinked and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Oh. Did you want to borrow mine?" He asked, sounding eager to please and a shiver went down Dean’s spine.

I want you to get on your knees and suck my dick. Get it hard and wet for me so I can pound your little hole, make you sob with relief when you come so hard you see stars.

"Yes. I’d, I’d like to borrow yours. Yes, that’s why I came over, uh-huh." He nodded too, just for good measure, and his heart did an honestly painful flip when Castiel smiled widely at him.

"Follow me." He said in invitation and started walking into his apartment. Well, Dean didn’t need to be told twice.

He closed the door behind himself and walked after Castiel, whistling as he went when he noticed how nice the man had made the apartment in such a short time. Some boxes were still unpacked and there was a pile of now empty and folded old cardboard boxes in a corner in the hallway but other than that everything looked really nice.

Castiel smiled at him over his shoulder and Dean grinned back.

"You moved in quickly." He commented with a grin and Castiel’s smile widened.

"I’m efficient."

"I can see."

Castiel stopped by a cupboard in the kitchen and chuckled as he opened it. It was the sexiest fucking sound Dean had ever heard and that was just ludicrous. A laughter wasn’t sexy, it was happy and Dean had to get a goddamn grip.

"Here we go." Castiel said then and pulled Dean out of his musings (which had totally not been about the man’s ass, nope).

Dean accepted the plastic measuring cup with a fake grateful smile. "Thanks."

"It’s nothing, let me know how dinner went." He was still smiling and this was such an obvious opening for Dean to take the leap.

Just fucking ask him. Wanna have dinner with me? Is Fergus really your boyfriend? Would you like to go out with me? Literally anything would have been great to ask right the fuck now.

But Dean was an idiot and that was a universal truth.

"So I’ll get this back to you as soon as I can. And, um, if you need to borrow something from me you’re welcome to."

Castiel blinked as if something had snapped him out of a trance. "Ah, yes, of course." He mumbled and the cleared his throat. "No need to hurry with that, though. I suck at cooking and baking so I rarely use it."

"Well, still." Dean smiled as wide as he could and then ducked out.

Only later did he realize what a goddamn obvious invitation Castiel’s last words had been to fucking invite the man over. You’re not good at cooking? Well, let me make dinner for you, then. How fucking stupid was he? Apparently more than he thought…

He had gone over there with no clear goal in mind, a thousand questions out of which none had been asked, and all he had gotten for his troubles was a sad smile as he left and a butt ugly measuring cup.

No need to say he felt shitty all evening and the wank off he treated himself to as he lay in his bed and listened to Castiel sing to himself on the other side of their shared wall felt hollow at best. If it hadn’t been for how sexy Castiel’s off tune singing sounded Dean wasn’t even sure he would have gotten off at all.

Last night I heard your key,
It hit your lock at 4 AM
Instead of being out with me,
You must be out with them

Dean jerked awake when he heard Castiel practically crash into his bedroom on the other side of the wall. The man groaned as if he had hurt himself but then immediately giggled (fucking giggled!) to himself.

"Fuck me." Dean muttered and turned over to see that it was far too early to get up but also extremely late for the man to just now go to bed.

Dean had heard the man making plans with someone over the phone last night and he had listened with gritted teeth as the man sang along to some goddamn pop song while obviously making himself ready for a date or the like.

He had practically been able to image Castiel as he danced around in his room, wriggling into tight fitting clothes and mussing up his hair so it would get that sexy bedhair look it always had. Making himself ready for someone else to fuck him.

And now he was getting back, drunk off his ass, apparently. Had probably been out with Fergus but maybe not. Dean hoped not.

A thump sounded through the wall and it was the thump that Dean had come to identify with Castiel practically throwing himself in bed. Dean supposed the man’s bed was shoved right up by the wall and that the frame knocked against the wall if Castiel moved too harshly. Like when he threw himself down or when someone fucked him hard.

There was silence for a while but Dean could easily imagine the shuffling that Castiel went about to get comfortable in his own bed. A cold and lonely bed but whatever.

Dean’s eyes were already heavy again and as the first sound escaped through the wall he almost thought he had dreamed it (which wouldn’t have been the first time).

But no, that was clearly the sound of Castiel moaning lowly and fucking fuck, was he jacking off?

So far Dean had never heard it. He had assumed that either Castiel did it in the shower or he did it on the couch. So far the bed had been for sleeping and sex, as far as Dean knew.

The newness of the situation woke Dean’s dick up like nothing else and he gasped at the suddenness of it. Pleasure so sharp it hurt stabbed at his gut and he snaked a hand down to his crotch just to squeeze, desperate to relieve the pressure.

There was a thump again from the other side but it sounded more like an elbow or knee had hit the wall but Dean didn’t mind. He put his unoccupied hand against the wall and gritted his teeth to keep from making too much sound himself.

He didn’t want Castiel to hear him because if he did then he would know how thin the walls were and he would stop what he was doing. Also, Dean didn’t want to miss a single sound Castiel was making. And oh boy was he making a lot.

In just the short time, he had gone from moaning to groaning and gasping sharply enough for even Dean to hear. Dean’s dick quivered in his hand and he started really stroking when Castiel started babbling.

"Oh, please." He ground out in a voice fucking made for sex. "Need it so bad, can’t…" there was another sharp gasp and Dean should really feel guilty for masturbating to this but he so didn’t. "Can’t stand it. Need it so bad it hurts. Need to be filled. Feel s-so empty."

The little stutter went right to both Dean’s heart and dick. God, this man was so desperate to get fucked it hurt Dean to listen to. He wanted so badly to just go over there and knock on Castiel’s door, offer to do him good.

God he was such a creep.

His hips twitched and he started fucking his hand when Castiel’s talking became garbled. Words were hard to distinguish now but the sound of the man’s voice was still beautiful. Dean’s whole body was trembling with the need for relief but as all the other times he held off until Castiel had come.

"F-fuck." He gasped when he shot all over his stomach and chest but the sound was covered by Castiel’s guttural moan.

He resolved to talk to Castiel tomorrow because this was getting out of hand. He wouldn’t ever admit to the walls but he could ask the man out for fuck’s sake. Castiel was obviously into men and Dean knew he was good-looking, why the fuck he was suddenly so shy around this man when he was usually so brash he didn’t know.

Well, he thought he knew but he refused to say it out loud, let alone think about it.

So yeah, he had great plans to talk to Castiel right after work tomorrow.

Too bad Dean was met in the hallway by the sight of Castiel snogging a blonde dude when he got home from work. He just smiled calmly when Castiel blushed at being caught.

Well I'd rather start off slow,
This whole thing's like some sort of race
Instead of winning what I want,
I'm sitting here in second place

This new guy was even worse than Fergus, somehow. Dean didn’t even know how it was fucking possible but it was. He was also a Brit and Dean was starting to think Castiel had a type. The new guy was called Balthazar (which was a ridiculous name), and he was lean, blonde and a douche.

He wasn’t as dismissive as Fergus had been but he was flirty as fuck and kept insinuating to Dean what he was going to do to Castiel every time Dean met him in the hallway. Judging by the glaring Dean sent him he was starting to think Balthazar maybe thought Dean was a homophobe and that he was oversharing out of spite. Which, okay, if that was the case then Dean could dig it but since Dean really wasn’t a homophobe but was in fact just desperately in lov—lusting after the same man that Balthazar fucked and subsequently talked about… well he could do nothing about his glaring.

He considered telling Balthazar but what fuck good would that do? Would probably just amp up the guy’s teasing. Also, if he considered telling Balthazar then why the fuck couldn’t he just tell Cas, as Sam so excellently had pointed out?

Dean had no answer and neither had Captain Morgan because the Captain was an ass.

He was sorely tempted to tell Balthazar or Castiel about the thinness of the wall, though. But at this point it would just have been awkward. Castiel had lived in that apartment for over a month now and Dean had yet to point it out. What with all the sex Castiel constantly had and the volume of it (Every. Single. Time.), it would be ridiculous to claim that he had yet to hear it. There was just no way Dean would have managed to be out of his room every time Castiel had sex.

So telling the man now wasn’t an option. And telling Balthazar that he wasn’t homophobic but in fact just jealous wasn’t an option either.

So Dean was stuck in some kind of hellish limbo where he was doomed to listen to the man of his dreams get rammed by someone else. Also, his dick was a total dick. Dean didn’t want to jerk off to Castiel’s sexy times but his cock hardened within seconds just listening to the man’s hot-as-fuck sounds and Dean couldn’t and wouldn’t drown his hard-on in cold showers. Not every time.

But the fact was that each jerking session were emptier than the last and he was seriously feeling himself spiraling downward into a dark funk. Even his friends had noticed and had easily guessed what it was about.

At their request he had stopped wallowing publically and chewing their ears off but it was hard for him to hide it when he apparently wore his emotions on his sleeve nowadays. Even Bobby had noticed and had almost mother henned over him for a while.

It just sucked.

I've got to be that,
Someone that you're with
And I'm pacing by the phone,
'Cause I hate to be alone

Dean stared at his phone where it lay on the coffee table in front of him. This was ridiculous.

Okay, so from the name tag on Castiel’s door he had gathered that Castiel’s last name was Novak and, predictably, there was only one Castiel Novak in town so now Dean had the man’s phone number. He had even entered it into his contact list. What the fuck? He should just go ahead and add little hearts beside the name too.

Because what the fuck did he need Castiel’s number for? Was he going to call him? He fucking lived six feet from his goddamn door.

"Fucking shit." Dean muttered and threw himself back in the couch. Castiel didn’t even have Dean’s number so how the fuck would that conversation go? Dean would look like a creep for having figured out Castiel’s number without him knowing, that was how.

But this was what he had amounted to because the situation with Castiel had drastically escalated during the last month or so.

Balthazar had been replaced after only two weeks, and by a girl nonetheless. Dean had only seen her briefly and had actually thought she was a sister or friend or something but apparently (judging by the fierce sex he had heard through the wall) Castiel was bisexual.

And that was good and all and not really what had actually caught Dean’s interest. No, it had more been the actual sex that had baffled him. Because even though Castiel obviously had been the one penetrating that woman (as evidenced by his own narration and her breathy compliments) Castiel was clearly still the submissive one.

And just fuck.

The woman was called Meg, Dean had learned through the wall, and she had a heart-shaped face and a wicked smile but holy mother of fuck, the things she brought out of Castiel was just golden. She made him run his mouth even more than the rest of them and Dean had come before the man for the first time while listening to that shit.

Dean had so wanted in on that scene. Was she riding him? Was he on top of her? How the fuck was she making him sob in desperation if he was the one fucking her? Dean had had sex with a lot of women and he couldn’t even fathom what was going on over there.

One thing he knew now, though, was that Castiel got off on orgasm-denial. Or delay, more accurately. And the way the man’s gravelly voice went all high-pitched with need would be fodder for Dean’s spank bank for all eternity. Dean was actually starting to worry his dick was going to fall off from all the tugging it was subjected to.

After Meg there had been a big, burly, black dude that was frankly just intimidating. Dean had met the two of them out in the hallway when he was returning from grocery shopping and Castiel had once again blushed at having been caught with a new sex partner, even though he and the other guy hadn’t even doing anything. Castiel had just waved at Dean and no introduction had taken place. The black guy had just stared at Dean and slipped in after Castiel when he had opened the apartment door.

If it hadn’t been for the sex that followed Dean would have been inclined to think that the guy was just Castiel’s body guard or something.

But it didn’t matter because the man only lasted two days and was then subsequently replaced by another blonde with a slimy smile. Dean didn’t know why the change had been so abrupt but he suspected it had had to do with the sex.

While he had heard them through the wall like usual (because he was a creep that immediately went to his bedroom to try and listen, no judging) Castiel’s voice had been subdued. And if there was one thing Dean had learned about Castiel’s sex life (besides the orgasm-deny/delay thing) it was that the man was loud when he was enjoying himself.

And with the burly guy? Not so much.

Oh, he had still been moaning and gasping but it had been nothing compared to how it usually was. The other guy was louder by far, going even so far that Dean didn’t get off on listening to it. He wasn’t in the least interested in hearing that guy grunt and praise Castiel, even if his praise sent excellent images to Dean’s mind (Castiel biting the pillow, Castiel hanging off the man’s fat dick, Castiel fisting his own dick desperately) that Dean later used to get off in the shower, all by himself.

But that guy was now replaced by the smiling dick that called himself Bartholomew and who shook Dean’s hand a little too hard when Dean met the two of them in the hallway.

Dean was so fucking done. In fact, he was so done that he hid his phone in the pocket of his leather jacket and promptly missed one call and two texts from Sammy.

And if you're out there with him,
Somewhere and just about to kiss
God I wanna be that,
Someone that you're with

It was one week into Castiel’s new relationship or acquaintance or what-the-fuck-ever with Bart before Dean even heard them in Castiel’s bedroom.

He had thought it was a little weird because Castiel hadn’t hesitated to take all the others directly to that room but he supposed it didn’t have to matter. Maybe they had favored having sex on the couch, or in the shower, or maybe at Bart’s place. And maybe it wasn’t Dean’s fucking business, huh?

Anyway, the Friday night grazing Castiel’s two month anniversary of moving in and wrecking Dean’s emotions Dean heard a thump as something (someone?) hit the wall. He had been in his bedroom trying to figure out if he was bound for a laundry day or if he could postpone it a little longer when he heard it.

He looked up at the wall beside his bed and before he even had time to think about it he heard the distinct sound of Castiel moaning.

"Goddamnit." He muttered and threw the T-shirt he had been smelling down on the floor. He knew he was fucked up but his dick was already chubbin’ up in his sweatpants and there would be nothing he could do. He was going to masturbate to Castiel having sex, once again, and he would probably feel horrible afterward but somehow this had become his lot in life. Maybe he should just move out?

Castiel moaned again just as Dean sidled up to the wall but the gasp that followed didn’t sound like his usual pleasurable gasps.

Then there was a loud thwack from the other side of the wall and Castiel gasped again, still not in pleasure. Dean frowned.

"B-Bart." Castiel pressed out, sounding as if his face was pressed against the wall.

"Shut up." Bart answered, his voice a growl that barely carried through the wall. "You know you like it."

Dean’s frown hurt his face. Like what?

There was another thwack and a thump and Castiel moaned again, but this time clearly in pain. Dean was still standing there, one hand on the wall and the other against his crotch. His dick was flagging now, however, and he hadn’t even pulled down his pants.

"Bart, you’re hurting me."

"Shut your whore face."

What the fuck?!

The wall vibrated with the next thump and Castiel whimpered but it didn’t sound sexy at all. It sounded scared and Dean’s blood was freezing.

"Please let me go." Castiel moaned out in a tinny voice. "No, I don’t want to, I—"

"What’s your goddamn safeword, slut?" Bart barked at him and there was no doubt in Dean’s mind that the next slap was going across Castiel’s face. Dean jerked as if slapped himself. "You know you like this, you haven’t safeworded." The glee in his voice made Dean sick to his stomach but Castiel’s answer made him burst into action.

"I don’t have a safeword!" Castiel nearly shouted, fear extremely evident in his tone. "We haven’t decided that, please let me go."

Dean didn’t hear Bart’s answer; barely heard the last of Castiel’s sentence. He was already running through his small apartment. He ripped open his own door and took two steps over to Castiel’s, furious at the thought of someone hurting the man.

He didn’t even hesitate at the door, prepared to kick it the fuck in, but it turned out he didn’t need to because it was unlocked. That made him even more uncomfortable and he was running through Castiel’s apartment now, following the sick sound of flesh on flesh beating and Castiel’s pained whines.

He actually kicked the bedroom door open and what he saw made his vision go completely black with rage.

Castiel was on the floor, half-way undressed, Bart was standing over him and holding one of Castiel’s arms as he slapped the cowering man repeatedly across his face and the arm Castiel still had curled over his head for protection.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Dean roared seconds after the bedroom door crashed into the wall and both men in the room jerked to a stop and stared at him.

Castiel’s eyes were full of tears, blood was running from his nose and his whole body was quivering. Bart was looking wild-eyed but dared smirk at Dean when he saw him.

Dean didn’t let either of them answer before he stepped into the room and was on Bart. The man squawked when Dean grabbed his shirt and tore him away from Castiel. He had never been this angry in his whole life. Without a second thought he twisted his hand in the other man’s shirt, cutting off his air and then promptly socked him right in the face.

It hurt like hell but the sickening sound that followed when Dean’s hard knuckles crushed into the man’s nose was satisfying enough.

Bart yowled in pain and clawed at Dean’s chest to get him away.

"Not so fucking funny when you’re on the other side, is it?!" Dean screamed in the man’s face and then promptly dragged him over to smash his head against the wall. Bart stopped screaming then and looked decidedly woozy, blood running down over his mouth from his nose. His eyes rolled around in their sockets. "You get the fuck away from Castiel or I will fucking kill you." Dean growled in the man’s face and that made Bart focus again. He looked scared as shit and he was having serious trouble breathing now. "Don’t test me." Dean hissed and then dragged the man through the apartment to throw him out the door.

He didn’t know if Bart had anything in the apartment that he needed but he didn’t fucking care. He just kicked Bart in the ass to get him moving and then simply slammed the door shut before locking it and stalking back into Castiel’s bedroom.

The man was still sitting on the floor, leaned against the wall that had haunted Dean for so long. He didn’t look up when Dean entered, though, but was staring at his hand where it was stained with blood after he obviously had wiped his nose.

"Shit, Cas." Dean mumbled and hurried over.

Castiel jerked as if coming out of a trance and he looked up at Dean with scared eyes. Fuck, Dean didn’t ever want the man to look like that. Without thinking he ripped off his own T-shirt and put a corner of it in his mouth to wet it so he could clean the blood away.

He started with Castiel’s hand so he wouldn’t have to see the blood anymore and then gently cupped the man’s face so he could clean what little remained on his upper lip. His nose had thankfully stopped bleeding and Dean could immediately see that it wasn’t broken.

"Dean." Castiel said eventually and he still sounded scared even if he looked like he had calmed down.

"Sch." Dean hushed gently. "It’s okay, I threw him out. He’s not coming back here, no one’s gonna hurt you."

He didn’t know if it was relief or residual fear but Castiel started crying again, curling himself against Dean’s chest and Dean’s heart ached.

"I was so scared." Castiel hiccupped and Dean carded a hand through his hair.

"I know, I know baby, but it’s okay now. I’m here, okay? I’ve got you."

Castiel made a mewling sound and shifted closer so Dean turned to sit with his back against that goddamn wall and collected Castiel so the man could rest between Dean’s legs, half-draped over Dean.

"He slapped me once before but it was only one slap and I didn’t like it but it was fine." Castiel babbled. "Once was fine. But I didn’t like it."

Dean was rocking the two of them now and wasn’t even aware of it. "It gave him no right, okay? You said no, I heard you. You said no and he continued anyway and he’s a fucking ass, okay?"

Castiel nodded but moments later he stilled. It wasn’t that he froze as much as he stopped sobbing and hugging Dean but the change was palpable nonetheless. What the fuck had he said wrong?

"You heard me say no?" Castiel asked and oh…

"Um…"

Castiel sat up so he could meet Dean’s eyes but he didn’t pull further away and Dean wanted to wipe the tears from his face but didn’t think he was allowed.

"What do you mean, you heard?"

Well, at least Castiel didn’t sound angry, that was a plus, Dean thought. Time to be fucking honest.

He reached up and knocked on the wall behind him. "We share this wall and… Well, it’s not exactly soundproof."

Castiel looked confused for a moment but just before Dean thought he would have to elaborate comprehension spread over the man’s gorgeous face and the blush that consequently followed shouldn’t look so fucking hot right now.

"You’ve heard…" he whispered and Dean tried to control his own blush.

"Everything." He cleared his throat awkwardly when Castiel stared at him with frightened eyes.

"Oh God, then you know."

Dean frowned in confusion when Castiel buried his face in his hands and groaned in embarrassed frustration. "Know what? That you like men? I kind of already gathered that, Cas."

But Castiel was shaking his head. "No, you know that I’m in love with you. God, you must feel so awkward."

Dean felt suffocated was what he felt. "You’re what?" He croaked and Castiel jerked his head up to meet Dean’s no doubt round eyes.

"You…" Castiel squinted and seemed to go over the last couple of minutes in his head. When he realized he had exposed his secret himself he gasped and turned away from Dean. "I’m sorry." He squeaked. "I-I didn’t mean to, I just—" he cut himself off when Dean wrapped his hands around his shoulders and pulled him closer to rest his back to Dean’s chest.

"I like you too." Dean admitted into the safety of Castiel’s thick hair. He held the man back when Castiel tried to turn around. Dean needed to hide to say this, okay? "I’ve liked you since I first saw you, you’re so fucking awesome, Cas. But you… You’ve always been unavailable."

"I…" Castiel sighed when he realized they were going to have this conversation without looking at each other. He put his hands on Dean’s knees. "When I moved in I was involved with Fergus but you… He figured out pretty quickly that you were on my mind. He’s too smart. We had a fight, tried to work past it, but…" he drew a deep sigh and seemed to relax further back against Dean. Dean loved it. "I was too hung up on you and we broke up. And I thought… I thought maybe you and I… But when we spoke it seemed like I was making you uncomfortable and I thought that maybe I had read the signals wrong, maybe you weren’t interested at all."

Dean groaned in frustration with himself and this whole shitstorm. "I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of you." He sighed when Castiel made a questioning sound. "I’ve never really liked anyone, okay? My brother calls me emotionally constipated and he’s not wrong. I behaved like a goddamn teenager and I suck."

This time when Castiel turned Dean let him. The man’s blue eyes were so vibrant that Dean felt enthralled. Wanted to drown in them and all that other poetic shit.

"I tried to date others to get over you." Castiel whispered. "My brother told me I should just move out but I couldn’t. I fall asleep with my hand on the wall when I’m alone."

Dean’s lips trembled and that was just bullshit. "I’ve masturbated every time I’ve heard you having sex with someone else. And it was awful. You rile me up enough to need it but I was so jealous of those that got to touch you that I felt worse when it was over. You’ve ruined masturbation for me."

Maybe it was too much to share but Dean was sick of hiding and Castiel’s lips were quirking up so Dean smiled sheepishly at him.

"Would you…?" He looked down and looked so fucking bashful that Dean’s dick of a dick just had to perk up. "Would you liked to try masturbating on this side of the wall? See if that’s better?"

An elated laugh bubbled up within Dean and fuck, it just felt so good. Cas chuckled too and Dean wanted to bottle the sound.

They leaned in simultaneously and when their mouths met Dean felt fucking fireworks go off behind his eyelids. All the poetry in the world couldn’t have described how it felt and the happy-pleased sound Castiel let out at the contact anyhow rendered Dean unable to think.

Kissing Castiel made Dean whole, simple as that.

God, I've got to be that,
Someone that,
I wanna be that someone that
I've got to be that,
Someone that you're with

Cas’ tight hole quivered around Dean’s achingly hard cock and no matter how many times they did this Dean would never, ever get enough.

Cas was on his back beneath Dean, his mouth hanging open and deep moans escaping him now and then, mingled with breathless pleas. Dean was leaned over him, one hand braced on the headboard of Cas’ bed and the other holding the man’s slim hip in a harsh grip as he fucked him slowly.

Cas was writhing and begging for it and Dean loved to hear his desperation.

He also loved how Cas didn’t try to keep his volume down in the least, not even after learning about the thinness of the walls. Then again, Dean was still renting the apartment on the other side even if he never slept in there nowadays. So he supposed it didn’t matter because no one else would be able to hear.

Even so, Dean couldn’t wait until they got the keys to the house they had bought together. Oh, how he would make Cas scream in the privacy of their own home. He was seriously considering turning the basement into a fucking sex dungeon. Cas had laughed at him but Dean had seen that glint in his eyes.

Dean grunted when Cas clamped down something fierce around him.

"You gonna come, baby?" He asked in a gruff voice and Cas keened at the sound, arching his back.

He had gripped the pillow under his head and was fucking himself on Dean’s dick best he could in his folded state. "Please, Dean." He gasped and Dean grinned as he continued with his slow pace.

"You can do it. Come on my cock."

"B-but… I need…"

Dean leaned down and breathed against Cas’ ear as he spoke. "You look so good hanging off my cock, baby. Know you can come from it alone. You’re doing so good."

Cas moaned and his movements became erratic. Dean had figured out pretty quickly that apart from the man’s orgasm delay kink, Cas also loved being praised, almost to the point where that became a kink of its own. Which was just perfect for Dean because he loved praising the man.

And how could he not? What with Cas looking beautiful, taking Dean’s dick so good, and being so overall fucking perfect it hurt Dean’s head to think about. Why the fuck Cas wanted Dean was beyond Dean but they had talked about that once and the fury Dean had seen in Cas’ eyes when Dean belittled himself had been enough for Dean to shut up about it.

So he had decided to roll with it and thank God that he had gotten this beautiful man.

"D-Dean, please."

Cas’ garbled voice was seriously going to make Dean come and that was another thing. Sound kink? Voice kink? Dean didn’t even know but he knew that he needed to fucking hold out right now because he needed Cas to come first. Needed to take care of the man but also needed him to come untouched. He had done it once before, under more uncontrolled circumstances and it had surprised them both. Dean wanted to watch it happen this time.

"So fucking beautiful, do you have any idea what you do to me?" He growled and then licked at the skin under Cas’ ear.

Cas gasped and bucked up hard. "Oh, God, Dean…"

"Yeah? You gonna come?" Dean fucking hoped so.

He rose to his knees and grabbed Cas’ hips in his hands so he could start really fucking the man. Each thrust was hard and sharp and directly aimed at Cas’ prostate. Cas’ eyes flew open and a scream ripped out of his chest. His hands were shaking and his knuckles were white from where he gripped the pillow too hard and fuck, just looking at the man coming undone was undoing Dean.

"Imma come, baby, need you to go with me." He groaned and Cas’ jaw worked but no sound escaped him. "Be a good boy for me, come for me Castiel."

Cas screamed Dean’s name so loudly when he came that Dean was certain the neighbors had heard. But it didn’t fucking matter because Cas’ dick was jumping and spurting come all over them, his whole body convulsing as his orgasm punched out of him and fuck, it was almost too much.

Dean groaned when an almost painful orgasm ripped out of him like a fucking slap to the face. He half-fell, half-hunched over Cas and only barely caught himself from squishing the other man. His whole body jerked as his dick emptied into Cas’ greedy body and he couldn’t help the honest to God little sob there at the end.

"I love you." Cas whispered as he pressed reverent kisses to Dean’s face and neck and Dean shuddered in the man’s embrace, finally letting himself relax.

"I love you too." He mumbled against Cas’ sweaty skin and felt the man’s content sigh flutter over his own clammy skin. It felt like a blanket of love that enveloped him and kept him safe. Or some other poetic bullshit like that.

I’ve got to be that someone that you're with.