Work Text:
It wasn't like Dean didn't know that Cas looked especially hot tonight, which is why he’d told him so when he picked him up from his house. Well, okay, he'd whispered that he looked 'totally fuckable' as he made out with him against the impala until Anna started shouting half-joking threats from the porch that she was going to come after him with a shotgun if he didn't stop defiling her little brother in front of her and Cas blushed beet red and broke away, but same difference.
Apparently he wasn't the only one with eyes, because some douchey senior had his arm resting up against the wall next to Cas's head, leaning in close to Castiel's mouth under the pretense that he couldn't hear what he was saying over the thudding bass line of the song that was playing. That was way past friendly levels of personal space, Dean thought unhappily as he crossed his arms. The guy was slick, and Dean should know, because he used to employ moves like that to get into girls’ pants, but that was all before he'd gotten with Cas, who'd never fallen for any of his stupid seduction tricks anyway, because he'd never understood what appropriate distance was in the first place.
Dean had always enjoyed that aspect of his personality, even back when he'd been pretending he definitely wasn't at all attracted to him, thank you very much, so he'd never bothered to take Cas aside and explain that some people might expect certain things when you let them get all snugged up in your personal space. Now he was kind of regretting it. He knew that Cas always felt that he stuck out like a sore thumb in social situations, paranoid that he was constantly making mistakes, and Dean hadn't wanted him to feel any more self-conscious because he liked Cas just as he was.
Alright, maybe his motives weren’t entirely altruistic, he wasn't going to lie and say he didn't enjoy Cas’s warm reassuring presence pressed up to his side. But he really, really didn't enjoy anyone else thinking that meant they were allowed to press their 'presence' up against Cas.
“Why so grumpy, Winchesters?” Jo shouted, as she toppled onto the couch cushion between him and Sam, whose furrowed frown lines of concentration were sharply illuminated from the backlight of the phone screen that he'd barely glanced away from the whole time they'd been here, only to start giggling wildly once she'd managed to situated herself somewhat comfortably on the shitty couch.
He chanced another glance up at Cas, who was now looking over at the three of them with his eyebrow cocked questioningly. Dean shot a grin back at him, because he totally wasn't grumpy that Cas was talking to somebody that wasn't him, no siree, and turned back to his best friend, “Jo, how much have you had to drink?” He asked, mock sternly.
“Too much,” she said, too loudly once again, because being shit faced made her unable to regulate her volume, and then her face dropped suddenly, “My mom is gonna be sooo pissed,” she leaned in and slurred, probably aiming for Dean’s ear but ending up right in his face instead. He winced, her breath smelled like cheap beer and cigarettes.
“Yes she is,” Meg purred. Dean jumped and immediately pretended she hadn't startled him. Judging by her smirk, it wasn’t working. Although, she kinda always looked like that. She dropped, uninvited, into the empty armchair opposite the couch, slinging her legs across the armrest.
“Dean’s scared of my mom.” Jo sing-songed to her, like that was a secret.
“Everyone’s scared of your mom,” Sam chimed in.
“Finally done pining away because Jess isn't here?” Dean teased, reaching over Jo to playfully shove at Sam’s arm.
“People living in glass houses...” Sam said primly, then trailed off and grinned, “I think you get my meaning.”
Dean sniffed haughtily and replied in a lofty tone, “I am not pining. I am letting Cas be an independent person because last time I tried to break up someone flirting with him, it turned out to be his step-brother and he got mad at me.” In his defence, it was nearly impossible to distinguish the difference between Balthazar talking and hitting on someone.
“I think you can rescue your damsel in distress this time, princess.” Meg drawled, nodding her chin in Cas's direction, who, Dean turned to see, was now wide-eyed, mouth a moue of distaste, shoulders drawn back rigidly, as asshole-face used his hand that wasn't on the wall to trail up and down Cas’s arm, effectively boxing him in.
Cas was pretty clearly rejecting him, in both body language and actual language, a firm “No, thank you”, the “douchebag” left unsaid, floating from the corner they were in. The other boy didn't appear to be listening to Cas's protests, too busy nosing his way into his neck. That got a stronger reaction from Cas, and he abruptly shoved him away from his person, drawing the attention of some of the surrounding drunk and rowdy teens.
“I am not going to sleep with you. Go away,” Cas said, louder this time, his hands curled into fists at his sides, and that was Dean’s cue to vault the back of the couch and skid over to the pair, hoping to defuse the situations, hands raised in the universal gesture of ‘it’s all good man’ and a disarming smile pasted on his face. Both of which he quickly dropped when the other guy spat “whore” at Cas. He stepped in between the pair, and decided to give this asshole one last chance.
“That’s enough. I think it’s time for you to go away, buddy.” Dean said furiously, fighting the desire to just give in and hit him, reminding himself that he was not some knight defending Cas’s maidenly honor.
It seemed Cas’s failed suitor had no self preservation instinct, because rather than taking the easy way out, he slimed, “Why don't you tell your slutty friend here to not be such a cocktease if he isn't gonna put out?”
Dean beat Cas to the punch, literally, surging forward and knocking the guy flat onto his ass with one sharp right hook straight to the nose. Cas took the opportunity to speak while Dean was shaking out his now throbbing hand. “For your information, this slut is planning to put out, for his boyfriend, not some drunken assbutt who doesn't know what no means,” he said crisply.
Dean smiled proudly and stepped forward to stand beside him, slipping his hand into Cas’s, then tugging him away from the whole unpleasant spectacle, and walking side by side back towards where Sam, Jo, and Meg were all watching everything unfold open-mouthed.
Sam recovered first. “I thought you were going over there to stop the fight, Dean.”
“Yeah, well, guy was an asshole,” Dean grunted, slouching back down in his seat, taking the opportunity to use their still linked hands to bodily pull Cas onto his lap, where he coiled his arms around Cas’s torso, hugging him to his chest like he was a teddy bear. A very large, bony, teddy bear, who was stiff with surprise, perched on top of his lap uncomfortably.
Cas lifted one of his hands off of his waist, and Dean pouted with disappointment, expecting him to move off of him. Instead he felt Cas’s lips press gently against his bruising knuckles, before he twined their fingers together and rested their joined hands back on his stomach.
“My hero,” he muttered, before leaning his head back against Dean’s shoulder, relaxing and snuggling back into Dean, pulling his arms around him tighter.
“Damn right, baby,” Dean grinned, pressing a kiss into his mess of hair.
“I think I just puked in my mouth a little,” Meg said cheerfully.