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Finder's Keeper's

Summary:

Dean's sunglasses are missing. He's pretty sure Cas stole them.

 

**Yes, this fic is a direct reference to the sunglasses conversation Jensen and Misha had at JIB12**

Notes:

This fic occurs in the same universe as Clue(less) and takes place during the road trip referenced in that story. You do not have to have read that story to read this one, as it stands alone, but if you enjoy silly game references and clueless Sam, you'll probably enjoy that one!

Also, this hasn't been beta'd, so please be kind, but if you see any glaring spelling/grammar mistakes, please lmk in the comments so I can make corrections.

Work Text:

“Come on Cas!” Dean hollers. “I want to get to the beach before it’s too crowded, and we still need to hit the Gas-N-Sip on the way.”

Smoke on the Water is playing on the clock radio in the corner, and Dean takes a moment to strum air guitar at the mirror along to the music, before snatching up the bottle of sunscreen and swinging dramatically back toward the bed as the last chords fade out. He already stuffed their beach towels in their bag, and he sticks the sunscreen on top. Best to keep it in easy reach, since he’ll need to toss it in the cooler once they get ice so the metal can doesn’t overheat in the sun. 

Why he let Cas talk him into buying the spray stuff he doesn’t know.

Yes, you do. 

Ok, he does know. Personally, he thinks the lotion is better, and why buy both when one works just fine? But Cas had argued that once they were on the beach, they wouldn’t want to get their hands greasy and he’d prefer something they could apply quickly and often to prevent sunburn, and well, Dean wasn’t about to have their first argument as a married couple be about something as stupid as sunscreen. 

Which, isn’t that a thought? They’re married now. Cas is his husband

And apparently Dean’s already whipped, because said husband insisted that they buy the lotion AND the spray, and Dean, sucker that he is, didn’t even try to argue, even though it meant shelling out fifteen bucks for some SPF 70. 

Which, hey, might be overkill, but he’s not about to risk sunburn and miss out on Cas touching him tonight. He does this thing where he wraps himself around Dean when he sleeps, his arms and legs secured around Dean’s body like vines, sort of like spooning but better, and while Dean would never admit it out loud, he might actually enjoy it more than sex. Hell, he’ll buy stock in Banana Boat if it means being held like that every night, but apparently, he can have it for free, and while his brain is still struggling a bit to wrap itself around the fact that Cas married his ass, his body is completely on board.

ACDC’s Back in Black starts up, and he’s just looking for his sunglasses when Cas emerges from the bathroom, still fiddling with his hair in an effort to tame it. Dean spies a pair of glasses hanging around the collar of the dark blue polo he’s wearing, and he snags them before Cas can stop him. Slipping them on, he snatches up the bottle of sunscreen from his bag, holding it like a mic in front of his face as he dramatically lip-syncs along with the words.

“It’s a shame I don’t have my camera,” Cas quips. “I bet you’d have quite a following on that one website with all those dance videos you’re constantly forcing me to watch.”

“It’s called TikTok,” Dean reminds him as he tosses the bottle back in the bag, “and don’t act like you don’t enjoy those videos!”

Cas just grins at him. “You look good in those glasses.” 

“Yeah, well… you look…” He lets his eyes trail over Cas’s figure, taking in the view. The blue of his shirt makes his eyes pop, and while Dean can’t see it, he knows from their adventures in the dressing room how those swim shorts really show off his ass.

Cas cocks his eyebrow, waiting for whatever Dean’s about to say. 

“Amazing.” 

At the word, Cas’s face lights up. “You think so?”

Dean nods before taking the glasses off to hand them back. His thumb rubs across an indent in the earpiece.

“Hey, are these my glasses?” he questions, inspecting them closer. The indent definitely resembles teeth marks, and Dean’s the only one of them who chews on his glasses, so these have to be his.

“No,” Cas insists quickly, grabbing them from Dean’s hand and hooking them back into his shirt, “they’re mine.”

He planned to argue back, but he’s too distracted by the way they pull on Cas’s collar, dragging it down just a smidge to expose his throat. How can he possibly make something so dorky so hot? Dean can’t take it.

“Dude, please tell me you aren’t planning on wearing them on your shirt like that all day.”

“No Dean, I obviously plan to wear them on my face.” His smirk makes it clear he thinks his comment is hilarious. 

That’s another thing that’s different since they got together. Cas jokes a lot more now. Dean’s always thought he was funny with his quick wit and dry, sarcastic humor, but something about Chuck being gone seems to have loosened him up, and now he’s constantly teasing Dean, almost as if it’s his job to make Dean laugh.

“Yeah, but not inside, right? We’re eventually going to go inside places, shops and whatnot, and you’re going to have to take them off. It’ll look kind of douchey if you don’t.”

“Yes,” Cas huffs, “I'll take them off inside.”

Dean gestures vaguely towards the glasses. “So?”

“So what?” 

“So, you’re saying you’re gonna' wear them on your shirt when we go inside places?’

“Well, yes.”

Dean can’t help but groan at the mental image. “Come on man, why?”

“Well, where else am I supposed to wear them?” 

Which, ok, good point. While the shorts look great, they aren’t exactly the most functional. The only pockets are small ones on the sides, and when Cas wore them out to the pool yesterday, his phone fell out on the sidewalk. And yeah, it didn’t help Dean was busy trying to cop a feel at the time, but still. 

“And look at you, Mr. Pockets!” Cas continues in a playful tone as he reaches out and slides his hand into the back pocket of Dean's shorts. “You could put glasses anywhere!”

“Well then why don’t you just let me carry them for you?”

“Because you’ll steal them,” Cas retorts.

“They’re MINE.” Dean reminds him, though he can’t help grinning at Cas’s antics. “You already stole them!”

“As I recall, the rule is ‘finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers’. It appears you lost them, and I found them, so I get to keep them. 

“Oh yeah? And where’d you ‘find them’ huh?” 

Cas shrugs. “In your duffle bag.” 

And with that, he slips on the glasses, grabs their bag, and heads out the door of their room, leaving Dean choking on a laugh as he stares after him in disbelief. 

“Fine!” Dean eventually calls out as he chases after him. “You can keep them.” 

He reaches out to grab Cas’s wrist as he shuts the trunk of the Impala, spinning him around and pinning him up against the car. 

“But they better sell sunglasses at the Gas-N-Sip because I’m not spending my whole day squinting at you. Don’t need anyone mistaking me for a creep.”

Cas slips his arms around Dean’s waist. “I’m fine with that.” And then Cas is kissing him, hot and demanding, and Dean’s lucky they’re by the car so he has something to brace against as Cas plunders his mouth. He quickly leans in further, putting his weight on Cas as he grinds against him, and Cas doesn’t hesitate to grab his ass in return. He’s starting to wonder if they should forgo the beach altogether and head back up to their room when Cas pulls away and slides down to grab their beach bag. 

“Alright, we need to go before the beach gets too crowded. Someone,” he adds pointedly, “is clearly determined to make us late, and apparently we need to look for new sunglasses now.”

Dean scoffs as he walks around to the driver’s side. “Yeah, sure, someone."

Cas opens his door and points into the car before sliding into his seat. “Get in loser, time to go shopping!”

“Oh my god.” Dean moans. “That’s not– You–” He slides into the car and thunks his head against the steering wheel. “I married a giant dork.”

Cas reaches out and grabs his hand. “Yes you did, and you love me for it.”

And yeah, Dean can’t argue with that.

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