twentysomething

Title: Must Have Been The Way

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Deanna/Cas (AlwaysAGirl!Dean, FYI.)

Summary: Sam had said Christ-knows-what to Cas, who had insisted that- despite the fact that they'd been sleeping with each other for months, and God knows what for longer- they should go on a... date.

Length: 3K

Warnings: Deanna's full-frontal in here, guys. Gratuitous use of picnics.

Notes: So, the amount of terrible shit I do in Taylor Swift's name is like... move on over, Crusades, for real, for real. I was listening to "Today Was a Fairytale", because seriously, I'm sick, and then rageprufrock and merelyn laughed at me, and then I wrote this. Thanks, as always, to merelyn for drinking Mint Juleps and doing dumb shit like being my friend. <3.


Dee has had the dress in her duffel for three years. She doesn't know why she bought it on a whim, in a boutique-y little shop in South Carolina not too far from where they are now. It was the type of shop she drives by on sleepy Main Streets and never goes into, because jeans and tees can be bought, cheap, from Walmart, and what the fuck is she going to do with a white sundress, anyway? But it's been there, crammed into the bottom left corner in a ziplock bag, because she didn't want it to get covered in blood, or dirt, or miscellaneous ectoplasm like everything else she owns. When she'd come back from Hell she'd sort of expected that Sam would have gotten rid of all her old stuff, but he'd sheepishly pulled out her bag from the trunk, untouched, and the dress had still been there.

Three years- dying, the apocalypse- and she's never worn it.

But then Sam had said Christ-knows-what to Cas, who had insisted that- despite the fact that they'd been sleeping with each other for months, and God knows what for longer- they should go on a... date.

She'd tried suggesting they tell Sam they were going to a movie and instead just sneak off and have sex in the car. Cas had made a stubborn little face and Deanna had sort of felt bad and so now they were going on a date. She had no fucking clue what they'd even be doing, because apparently while Sam was telling Cas they had to go on a stupid date, he'd also explained about patriarchy or some shit. But Dee figures that Sam would probably insist on something sissy and polite and clean- so, she pulls the dress out of the bag and throws it on, pulling her hair out of the loose braid it's been in.

It's dumb, but she puts on her eyeliner carefully, staring into the mirror as she brushes on mascara. When she's done putting on her lip gloss she stares at herself and tries not to feel like she's looking at someone else.

She hits her first real snag when she looks down at her bare feet, the big toenail on the right foot still purple, even though it's been two months, two months since they stopped the end of the world and stopped fighting. Dee's never had shoes that weren't fiercely practical, battered sneakers and thick boots. She finally shrugs, because fuck it, she's gotta be her, and throws the boots on.

Sam and Cas disappeared sometime this morning, Sam mumbling indistinctly. Dee has spent the time since then irrationally freaking out and taking a long shower and wondering why she thinks this is so important. She's just thinking about maybe re-braiding her hair, but nicely this time, when there's a soft knock on the door. When she opens it Cas is standing there, looking shocked and shockingly normal. Dee guesses that Sam took Cas shopping, because he's wearing jeans, chucks and a gray t-shirt that looks so soft she almost leans forward to touch him, to feel.

"Deanna," Cas says, low and gravelly, with a tone she knows means want. It's more of a compliment than anything he might have said. The self-consciousness she's felt all morning evaporates in the way he looks at the sweet, gauzy hem of her dress, brushing the top of her knees, the way he places his hands on her hips so he can draw her close, press their foreheads together. She tucks the tips of her fingers into the pre-worn jeans, brushing her thumbs against the shirt that's as soft as she thought it would be.

"You still sure we have to go anywhere?" she asks, cheeky and pleased, even when Cas just shakes his head with the rueful smile he saves just for her being difficult.

"Yes," he insists, pressing a chaste kiss on top of her head, taking her hand to draw her outside. Sam is leaning against the side of the Impala, mouth hanging open, keys dangling from his hand. Dee blushes, because she's still a girl, you know, she can wear a dress if she wants to, but Sam slams his mouth shut with bashful smile.

"You look really pretty, Dee," Sam says, passing her the keys, tugging on a piece of her wavy hair. Deanna snorts.

"Shut up, Sammy," she mutters, but she knows she's smiling fit to break her face. Sam just laughs and heads into the open motel door as she catches Cas's eye over the body of her baby.

"Well, where we headed, Romeo?" Deanna asks, using a hand to shade her eyes, looking into the afternoon sun. Cas makes a face, like he disagrees with the nickname.

"I will provide directions," Cas says seriously, like the success of this date is life or death. Dee tucks her fond smile into her shoulder as she shuts the door and puts on her seat belt. Cas is like an angel GPS, giving her turns exactly 45 seconds before she needs them and when he tells her to pull over, they're in the middle of nowhere. The only thing in sight is a huge live oak tree, spreading its enormous branches over a gentle, green, grassy field, sloping toward a river to the west. Dee wonders if this is what Eden looked like, and then shakes her head, because that's stupidly sentimental.

Cas- oh God, Cas pulls out a picnic basket from the back seat. Dee almost hopes there are ants because this is just- too much, too perfect.

She stares at the field for a moment and figures grass stains are a part of life. But Cas just blinks at her, reaches in again to pull out his stupid, familiar trench coat and folds it over his arm, picking up the basket, too. He puts them both carefully over the split rail fence and then clambers over, immediately turning to offer her a hand.

Dee's glad she picked the boots as she climbs over it like a ladder. She claims his free hand, holding on tightly as he takes them right under the shady boughs, draping his coat on the ground like this is the goddamn Elizabethan era or something, the slippery lining facing up. She has to kiss him, because he may be an angel, but he's just so good to her she can hardly stand it.

She pulls herself up to her tiptoes, wondering why all the men in her life are so stupidly tall, running her hands over his shoulders, pressing her mouth to his, as sweet and giving as she knows how. Deanna doesn't know how long they kiss, maybe it's five minutes, maybe fifteen, maybe fifty, because there's a hazy quality to the light as she finally lets go, sitting on Cas's coat, but that might be happiness.

"Are you hungry?" Cas asks, already flipping open the lid of the basket, and Dee nods as she slips off her boots and lets her feet nestle in the cool grass- although, she's more curious about what's inside than she is about eating it. She can't help but laugh as he pulls out a growler of beer and sandwiches that she strongly suspects are BLTs. He raises his eyebrows.

"Was I mistaken? Sam said that a beverage and sandwiches were appropriate," Cas says, almost defensive. Deanna kisses his cheek, relishing the soft scrape of his perpetual five o'clock shadow against her lips.

"It's exactly appropriate," Dee assures him. Perfectly fresh and crisp sandwiches are one of the smaller perks of an angel boyfriend, but they're appreciated nonetheless. Cas pours the beer into a pair of ridiculously orange mugs. It's light and fizzy on her tongue. He thoughtfully chews on a sandwich, watching her like a hawk, head tilted to the side like he's waiting for some kind of sign.

"You know, you didn't have to do any of this," she tells him. "Not for me." Cas frowns.

"Sam said that 'dates' were a way of expressing of one's devotion," Cas protests. Unfortunately, Dee doesn't doubt that's how Sam said it. She shakes her head.

"Cas, you died to save us, twice," she explains, because the amount of dying in their relationship is probably a benchmark of their "devotion," even if it's totally ridiculous. "I think that gets you out of buying me flowers, forever." Cas furrows his brows.

"Do you require flowers?" he asks, like he's a moment away from flapping away to a hothouse somewhere and bringing her back the whole damn thing and she shakes her head again.

"No, baby, I'm saying-" She takes a deep breath, because this going to be mercilessly gay, but it has to be said. "I'm saying that I don't need dates, or flowers, any of it. I know that you're... devoted." And she does, she really does, because he faced down all of Heaven and Hell for her and did it without blinking, because it had been what she needed, what had to be done. She's never going to worry he doesn't love her, because she knows- it's literally written on her bones, mapped on her skin.

"I am," he agrees and Jesus, at least they're not in a restaurant somewhere, because she can feel a flush creeping over her cheeks from how overwhelmingly earnest Cas is. This shit is just too embarrassing. Cas smiles faintly. "Deanna, will nothing I say convince you that you are miraculous and beautiful?"

Okay, no, that's embarrassing. When she looks somewhere over his shoulder, to the left, he just leans over and gently turns her face with a hand cupping her chin. His blue eyes are bright and clear as he brushes the edge of his index finger over her cheek.

"Maybe you'll just have to keep telling me," she says honestly. He smiles a little wider.

"I can do that," Cas says, pulling her close enough to kiss, and he tastes sweet and cool and she will never get tired of this- of sighing deep into his mouth, lazily licking her way in, feeling like she's the only person in the world. When they finally break apart, she frowns, just a little, because she doesn't want him to get- Jesus, get his feelings hurt.

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate this- I appreciate the hell out of this- but you don't have to," Dee insists. Cas smiles, really smiles, and Deanna's breath catches.

"I want to," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Dee is so grossly in love she can barely move.

"Well, then," she replies, smiling like a loon, "don't let me get in your way." She picks her sandwich back up and leans against Cas's chest, watching the way the light is playing on the river, shining gold and orange. By the time she's finished, Cas is absently running a warm, smooth hand over her arm, from shoulder to elbow, over and over.

"So, is this our first date?" Dee asks after a while, pressing her face into his neck, smelling wind and the faintest hint of clover. Cas hums thoughtfully.

"I suppose so," he says. Deanna chuckles, low and dirty, tracing a hand under the edge of his t-shirt.

"I guess you're lucky that I put out on the first date," she muses, rolling to her knees, swinging a leg over him to straddle his lap.

"I am very lucky," he says, of course avoiding anything not ludicrously sappy, even as he brings his hands up to catch at her hips, holding her steady in place.

"You're about to be," Dee agrees, leaning forward to kiss Cas, wet and slow. She sneaks her hand further under his shirt, running her hand over his stomach through the faint line of hair above the waistline of his jeans. Deanna undoes the button and zip and snorts with amusement to find the same blue-striped boxers beneath. It figures that you can take the angel out of the suit, but apparently you can't take the angel out of its boxers- but Dee is going to try.

"We've never had sex outside, have we?" Dee muses. "Or at least not outside of the car." Cas mumbles his agreement as Dee slips her hand into his underwear, wrapping her hand around his already half-hard cock.

"Another thing to cross off the bucket list," she says with a grin, jacking him slowly, running her thumb over the head, making her hand slick with pre-come.

Cas lets his head rest against the trunk of the tree, practically purring under her hands. She'll never get complacent about this, the effect she has on him, the way his body comes to life under her hands. Even the way his closed eyelids flutter makes her feel good. He slits his eyes open lazily, reaching up to carefully pull the straps of her dress off her shoulders, cupping her breast, brushing a thumb over her nipple through the thin material. Dee arches into it, because as much as she can make him come undone, he knows her, inside and out, knows what she wants, what she needs.

And despite that, she still gasps with surprise when she feels a finger brush over her panties, and she's getting wet, so wet already, just watching him breathe hard under her.

"Deanna," he says, voice scraping and hoarse and Christ, she doesn't want to come, humping the air half a foot over the real thing, so she uses her other hand to place Cas's hand on her thigh while she pushes her underwear aside, guiding Cas in with a deep sigh.

"Mmm, baby, you feel so, so good," Dee whispers between them. Cas surges up to push a hand into her hair, kissing her hard as he rubs his thumb against her clit.

"I love you, I love you," Cas breathes into her mouth, tugging the fabric down to leave her breast exposed to the cooling air. His hand, huge and hot and greedy, is so amazing, she can't help but let her head loll back. Dee pushes back up on the balls of her feet and rocks back down in a fast shove, making them both shake.

"I know," she sighs, "I do, me too." The rough pad of his thumb slides against her, slippery with how insanely wet she is, and when he pushes his middle finger in her too, she gasps and bucks. When Cas finds her g-spot the pressure and friction, inside and out, pushes her over the edge. Deanna comes hard, collapsing on top of Cas's thighs as her pussy spasms around his dick. She blindly presses her hands out against the tree to stop herself from smashing into Cas. The bark scrapes rough against her palms but that's good, that's good too, and Cas leans forward and kisses her, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses against her mouth, her jaw, her neck, her breasts.

"Deanna, you, you-" Cas says, before he breaks off in a choked moan. Dee sucks a biting kiss right under his jaw, beneath his ear.

"Come on, baby, come on," she encourages. Cas exhales sharply and comes, pressing his face into her shoulder, kissing there slowly, like he can't get enough of her. Deanna wraps her arms around his neck, threading her fingers in the fine, thick hair at the back of his head.

"Always, Cas," she says quietly, still trembling. Cas drops one last kiss to the curve of her breast before gently pulling the thin cover of the dress over her, putting the straps to rights. Dee takes a deep breath and slides back, her eyes rolling, just a little, back into her head as Cas slips free from her body, the ache delicious and familiar. She tucks him away and tugs her panties, soaking wet, back into place.

"I guess that's why people usually do this on a bed," Deanna mutters, feeling sleepy and sated. Cas huffs a small laugh, pulling her against him, cradling her with his deceptively strong arms.

"You can sleep," he whispers into her hair. And with an offer like that, Dee drowses not quite into sleep, watching the sparkling light on the river fade into night, fireflies bouncing over the field. She can feel Cas breathing, slow and steady at her back. When the river starts reflecting the full moon, Dee forces herself to stretch and really wake up.

"Hello," she mumbles, pressing a clumsy kiss against his temple. Her bare skin, where it's not flush against Cas's, is cool. She rubs at her arms.

"It's getting cold for you," Cas observes, pulling her to standing with him, wrapping his warm arms around her.

"Only a little," Dee protests, because she's not ready to go home yet, not ready for their date to end. Cas, ignoring the noise of complaint she makes when he lets go, picks up his coat, and shakes it out with three crisp snaps. He slips it around her shoulders, helping her slide her arms into the overly long sleeves.

"Thanks," she says, tucking her arms under his, running her hands up his back, feeling the planes of his shoulder blades under the soft cotton. Cas pulls her close and Dee noses against his collar bones, reveling in the feel of his chest against hers, the sound of his heart beating. She thinks that maybe a date wasn't such a dumb idea. She'll have to thank Sam, without, of course, actually thanking him- he'd be fucking insufferable.

They break apart eventually, moving quietly together to pack up- emptying out the mugs, putting them back in the basket, which Cas carries while guiding Dee with his spare hand at the base of her spine. He moves her around holes and dips in the ground, back over the fence. When they reach the car, she catches at his t-shirt.

"I meant that, you know," she says, kissing him softly. "Thank you for this." Cas smiles against her mouth.

"You're welcome," he replies easily and, after putting the basket in the back seat, sits shotgun. Deanna takes a deep breath, smiles, and gets in the car.