FIC - Routine Maintenance
Title: Routine Maintenance
Pairing: Dean/Cas, the Impala
Rating: R
W/C: ~1,450
Summary: Castiel wants to know more about Dean’s "Baby”
A/N: for the dc_summerlovin fic exchange. Special thanks to "verityburns for the beta-read.
In late August, the humidity was pervasive enough to be overwhelming. It almost felt like it was raining, except that the raindrops were all just standing still in the air.
Of course, this wasn’t going to stop Dean from his once-a-week routine of thoroughly inspecting, then washing and waxing the Impala. There were so many things in his life over which he had no control at all, but this was one he wasn’t giving up. He found peace in the work, a calm feeling embracing him when he inspected spark plugs, checked the tire treads for wear, scrubbed bird shit off the hood.
So all of this was familiar territory. Except that this time, it wasn’t. Dean’s weekly quality time with his Baby was a solitary activity, almost always. It had been necessary, a couple of years ago, to teach Sam some of the basics, but Sam didn’t have any real interest in it. Bobby had his own work to do. The days of his dad watching over him were long gone.
Today, Castiel was sitting on the hood of a beyond-repair green hooptie from somewhere in the late 1970s, ten feet away, just watching. Not that Dean wasn’t used to Cas watching him. But after a while, he walked over to Dean and asked, “May I be of assistance?”
Dean chuckled at the suggestion. “Thanks, Cas, but I think I’ll be all right.”
Not moving, Castiel responded, “I’d like to know more about your car.”
And what the fuck? Cas wanted to know about his car? What good could possibly come of that? He couldn’t help himself, so he just asked.
“Why?”
“This car is very important to you. And you are very important to me. It is my understanding that when two people are in a relationship such as ours, sharing their interests is a common way to grow closer.”
Dean was going to kick Sam’s teeth in for handing Cas that stupid fucking issue of Cosmo last week. Bitch thought he was funny. But what Dean had going with Cas was new, it was uncharted territory for both of them, so a certain amount of being unsure and awkward was to be expected. They hadn’t hidden anything from Bobby or Sam, either, so a certain amount of good-natured ribbing was unavoidable and par for the course.
Sighing and rolling his shoulders, he turned to look straight on at Cas. And damn it, there they were, those goddamn puppy dog eyes that Dean could blame on Sam as well.
If it please the court, let the record reflect that the defendant, Dean Winchester, has no resistance to the puppy eyes.
“Okay. I’m almost done with the maintenance stuff but I’m about to check the oil. That’s easy. You can watch, I’ll show you how to do it.”
“Thank you. I would like to learn how to check the oil. What kind of oil is it? What purpose does it serve in the mechanics of this engine?”
All right, so that was just Cas being Cas. He knew how stars were formed in the vacuum of space. He could tell you in great detail about the building of the Great Wall of China and the pyramids of Giza. But he could barely work a cell phone and he had no clue as to why a car starts when you turn the key in the ignition.
So now Dean was going to be Dean, who’d rarely spared a moment’s thought to things like walls and pyramids and stars in faraway places he knew he’d never see. “It’s motor oil, specifically designed for cars. There are a ton of different kinds, like for diesel engines, boats, planes, machines. My baby takes 10W-30. It lubricates all of the moving parts in the engine, so if you’re low, you can run into a ton of problems. Baby never gets too low, with me checking every week.” The thought of making a joke about moving parts and lubrication was tempting, but Dean skipped it. For now.
He’d save it for later. There was most definitely going to be a later.
Castiel moved in closer to watch what Dean was doing as he was explaining the process. Remove the dipstick, wipe it off with a paper towel, then insert it again. When it was pulled back out, the level of oil was reflected on the dipstick, so it was readily apparent when more needed to be added.
Dipsticks being pulled out and pushed back in was another juvenile wisecrack waiting to happen. This wasn’t the time.
Eyeing the dipstick closely, Dean nodded and said, “She needs about half a quart. Pass me one of those bottles there, Cas”, indicating a green container containing oil specifically designed for high mileage cars. Castiel did as he was asked, and Dean carefully poured half the bottle into the opening before replacing the cap.
“See? That’s simple.”
By this time, Castiel had crowded further into Dean’s space.
“I don’t understand why it is so pleasurable for me to watch you do this, and to see you with dirt and grease on your clothes, on your skin.” He leaned in for a kiss then, which Dean happily returned, only stopping on the off chance that Bobby would come outside and tease him for all of eternity.
“Mmmm, so you have a thing for me being dirty”, Dean replied with a smirk. “Interesting.”
“Using my level of sexual arousal as a gauge, I’d say you are correct about the…thing”, Cas responded, his eyes lowered. He was clearly still trying to get a hold on the intricacies of a romantic and sexual relationship. Dean was more than happy to navigate him on this particular journey.
“All right then.”
Dean hauled Cas to the side of the car and yanked him into the backseat. “Maybe we can indulge you, fool around some before I wash the car.”
Without a second of hesitation, Castiel took him up on his offer.
Half an hour later, both of them sated and still half-dressed, soaked in sweat from the sex and from the temperature, Castiel had another question.
“If I help you wash the car, will you teach me to drive it?”
Christ, the puppy eyes again. Sam was so fucking dead. “Not today. Not now. But…if you really do want to learn, I’ll let you practice on one of these old junkers before I let you sit behind the wheel of my Baby. Sound like a fair deal?”
Castiel’s eyes lit up with just the hint of a chance to drive Dean’s car. “Of course. I can’t imagine it would be that difficult a task. Even children are allowed to drive so they must be competent enough to master the basics.”
“Yeah, if they’re over sixteen. And even then, they generally suck at it because they like to show off and have a car full of friends and play the radio loud so that they’re careless or distracted and get into eight wrecks the first year they have their license. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect.”
“How many times did you ‘wreck’ this car when you first got your driver’s license?”
Damn it, Dean wanted to say he hadn’t. He wasn’t going to lie to Cas, though. “Just once. Not with another car. Got too close to a gas pump and scraped a metal pole. It only took me an hour to buff out the scratches, but I thought my dad’s head would explode when he saw it.” He remembered that moment, feeling so guilty for damaging this precious gift his father had entrusted to him, but all these years later, it was just a funny story, which led him to smile at the memory instead of cringing.
And then Castiel smiled too, a real smile with teeth and everything. Moving in for another kiss, he asked, “Why don’t we practice this some more?”
Castiel’s version of dirty talk and sexual innuendo still left much to be desired, but it got the point across. Hell, he just said ‘practice makes perfect’, which was a stupid fucking thing to say, and Cas translated it from driving to sex, so that right there was progress, Dean figured.
“Sure. Let’s wash the car, and maybe we can sneak in a shower together afterward.”
Castiel’s eyes filled with hopefulness. Dean knew how much Cas loved shower sex.
Bobby’s gruff “You two done with your wet t-shirt contest out there? I’ve got dinner on” from the porch just made them both laugh .
The wax job could wait. And damn if this didn’t turn out to be one of the most perfect days Dean could remember having in a long, long time.
Pairing: Dean/Cas, the Impala
Rating: R
W/C: ~1,450
Summary: Castiel wants to know more about Dean’s "Baby”
A/N: for the dc_summerlovin fic exchange. Special thanks to "verityburns for the beta-read.
In late August, the humidity was pervasive enough to be overwhelming. It almost felt like it was raining, except that the raindrops were all just standing still in the air.
Of course, this wasn’t going to stop Dean from his once-a-week routine of thoroughly inspecting, then washing and waxing the Impala. There were so many things in his life over which he had no control at all, but this was one he wasn’t giving up. He found peace in the work, a calm feeling embracing him when he inspected spark plugs, checked the tire treads for wear, scrubbed bird shit off the hood.
So all of this was familiar territory. Except that this time, it wasn’t. Dean’s weekly quality time with his Baby was a solitary activity, almost always. It had been necessary, a couple of years ago, to teach Sam some of the basics, but Sam didn’t have any real interest in it. Bobby had his own work to do. The days of his dad watching over him were long gone.
Today, Castiel was sitting on the hood of a beyond-repair green hooptie from somewhere in the late 1970s, ten feet away, just watching. Not that Dean wasn’t used to Cas watching him. But after a while, he walked over to Dean and asked, “May I be of assistance?”
Dean chuckled at the suggestion. “Thanks, Cas, but I think I’ll be all right.”
Not moving, Castiel responded, “I’d like to know more about your car.”
And what the fuck? Cas wanted to know about his car? What good could possibly come of that? He couldn’t help himself, so he just asked.
“Why?”
“This car is very important to you. And you are very important to me. It is my understanding that when two people are in a relationship such as ours, sharing their interests is a common way to grow closer.”
Dean was going to kick Sam’s teeth in for handing Cas that stupid fucking issue of Cosmo last week. Bitch thought he was funny. But what Dean had going with Cas was new, it was uncharted territory for both of them, so a certain amount of being unsure and awkward was to be expected. They hadn’t hidden anything from Bobby or Sam, either, so a certain amount of good-natured ribbing was unavoidable and par for the course.
Sighing and rolling his shoulders, he turned to look straight on at Cas. And damn it, there they were, those goddamn puppy dog eyes that Dean could blame on Sam as well.
If it please the court, let the record reflect that the defendant, Dean Winchester, has no resistance to the puppy eyes.
“Okay. I’m almost done with the maintenance stuff but I’m about to check the oil. That’s easy. You can watch, I’ll show you how to do it.”
“Thank you. I would like to learn how to check the oil. What kind of oil is it? What purpose does it serve in the mechanics of this engine?”
All right, so that was just Cas being Cas. He knew how stars were formed in the vacuum of space. He could tell you in great detail about the building of the Great Wall of China and the pyramids of Giza. But he could barely work a cell phone and he had no clue as to why a car starts when you turn the key in the ignition.
So now Dean was going to be Dean, who’d rarely spared a moment’s thought to things like walls and pyramids and stars in faraway places he knew he’d never see. “It’s motor oil, specifically designed for cars. There are a ton of different kinds, like for diesel engines, boats, planes, machines. My baby takes 10W-30. It lubricates all of the moving parts in the engine, so if you’re low, you can run into a ton of problems. Baby never gets too low, with me checking every week.” The thought of making a joke about moving parts and lubrication was tempting, but Dean skipped it. For now.
He’d save it for later. There was most definitely going to be a later.
Castiel moved in closer to watch what Dean was doing as he was explaining the process. Remove the dipstick, wipe it off with a paper towel, then insert it again. When it was pulled back out, the level of oil was reflected on the dipstick, so it was readily apparent when more needed to be added.
Dipsticks being pulled out and pushed back in was another juvenile wisecrack waiting to happen. This wasn’t the time.
Eyeing the dipstick closely, Dean nodded and said, “She needs about half a quart. Pass me one of those bottles there, Cas”, indicating a green container containing oil specifically designed for high mileage cars. Castiel did as he was asked, and Dean carefully poured half the bottle into the opening before replacing the cap.
“See? That’s simple.”
By this time, Castiel had crowded further into Dean’s space.
“I don’t understand why it is so pleasurable for me to watch you do this, and to see you with dirt and grease on your clothes, on your skin.” He leaned in for a kiss then, which Dean happily returned, only stopping on the off chance that Bobby would come outside and tease him for all of eternity.
“Mmmm, so you have a thing for me being dirty”, Dean replied with a smirk. “Interesting.”
“Using my level of sexual arousal as a gauge, I’d say you are correct about the…thing”, Cas responded, his eyes lowered. He was clearly still trying to get a hold on the intricacies of a romantic and sexual relationship. Dean was more than happy to navigate him on this particular journey.
“All right then.”
Dean hauled Cas to the side of the car and yanked him into the backseat. “Maybe we can indulge you, fool around some before I wash the car.”
Without a second of hesitation, Castiel took him up on his offer.
Half an hour later, both of them sated and still half-dressed, soaked in sweat from the sex and from the temperature, Castiel had another question.
“If I help you wash the car, will you teach me to drive it?”
Christ, the puppy eyes again. Sam was so fucking dead. “Not today. Not now. But…if you really do want to learn, I’ll let you practice on one of these old junkers before I let you sit behind the wheel of my Baby. Sound like a fair deal?”
Castiel’s eyes lit up with just the hint of a chance to drive Dean’s car. “Of course. I can’t imagine it would be that difficult a task. Even children are allowed to drive so they must be competent enough to master the basics.”
“Yeah, if they’re over sixteen. And even then, they generally suck at it because they like to show off and have a car full of friends and play the radio loud so that they’re careless or distracted and get into eight wrecks the first year they have their license. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect.”
“How many times did you ‘wreck’ this car when you first got your driver’s license?”
Damn it, Dean wanted to say he hadn’t. He wasn’t going to lie to Cas, though. “Just once. Not with another car. Got too close to a gas pump and scraped a metal pole. It only took me an hour to buff out the scratches, but I thought my dad’s head would explode when he saw it.” He remembered that moment, feeling so guilty for damaging this precious gift his father had entrusted to him, but all these years later, it was just a funny story, which led him to smile at the memory instead of cringing.
And then Castiel smiled too, a real smile with teeth and everything. Moving in for another kiss, he asked, “Why don’t we practice this some more?”
Castiel’s version of dirty talk and sexual innuendo still left much to be desired, but it got the point across. Hell, he just said ‘practice makes perfect’, which was a stupid fucking thing to say, and Cas translated it from driving to sex, so that right there was progress, Dean figured.
“Sure. Let’s wash the car, and maybe we can sneak in a shower together afterward.”
Castiel’s eyes filled with hopefulness. Dean knew how much Cas loved shower sex.
Bobby’s gruff “You two done with your wet t-shirt contest out there? I’ve got dinner on” from the porch just made them both laugh .
The wax job could wait. And damn if this didn’t turn out to be one of the most perfect days Dean could remember having in a long, long time.