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Dean loved Bobby John. He really did. He wouldn’t change anything about his new, domestic little life with Cas and Bobby John for anything.
However, Dean was starting to look forward to the quiet nights he had with Cas after Bobby John went to bed– cuddling up against each other while a movie played, sometimes watching it, with Dean explaining all the little jokes he knew Cas wouldn’t get, and sometimes ignoring it all together, with Dean pressing kisses to the side of Cas’s neck and committing the feeling of Cas’s body under his fingers to memory.
Tonight, Cas was a warm weight against Dean’s side, his hair tickling at Dean’s jaw where he was resting his head against Dean’s chest. Dean’s arm was around him, his fingers idly tracing circles where Cas’s soft t-shirt had slipped to reveal a sliver of bare skin by his collarbone.
“What are we watching?” Cas asked, shifting against Dean.
Dean couldn’t help but smile, leaning down to peck Cas’s forehead. “ Die Hard. ”
“Is this the one with the big teddy bear riding in the car?”
“Okay, if that’s what you got out of watching it, then I am definitely making you watch it again.”
“Make fists with your toes,” Cas said wisely, adopting an accent that might’ve almost been John McClane, if you already knew what he was going for.
Dean settled back, letting the familiar movie wash over him. He couldn’t wait until Bobby John was old enough to watch all of Dean’s favorite movies. Cas insisted that Bobby John was still too young to be hearing swears and seeing gun violence and seeing that one shot in the beginning of that shirtless woman, and Dean didn’t have the most normal childhood, but he figured Cas was probably right about that. Dean might’ve been handling a gun when he was Bobby John’s age, but it wasn’t like John Winchester was a role model when it came to good parenting.
“Do you think I’d be able to take out a whole building of terrorists by myself?” Dean asked quietly, as John McClane on-screen attempted to find his ex-wife in the building directory.
“You’d never be alone. You would just have to pray to me, and I would help you,” Cas said.
“I can’t tell if you’re trying to be sappy or if you’re avoiding the question.”
Cas rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond. “Yes, Dean, if you can handle vampire nests, I’m sure you could handle terrorists. But if you ever tried that without calling me or Sam first, I will drag you down to Hell myself.”
“You’re adorable.” Dean cupped Cas’s jaw, turning Cas’s head to kiss him on the lips.
“I’m a very powerful Angel of the Lord,” Cas said, making no move to break free of Dean’s light hold. “I could kill you with a single touch.”
“Mm-hmm.” Dean leaned in again, the kiss lasting longer this time– not heated, their lips just resting against each other, content to be touching. “You’re so cute when you get all smite-y.”
“ I could stop a terrorist plot in an office building.”
“Of course you could, sunshine.”
Dean all but murmured the words against Cas’s lips. Their lips met again, and this time, Cas’s lips parted, as he leaned up to touch Dean’s face–
“Dads?”
Dean and Cas broke apart, with Dean grabbing for the remote to pause the inappropriate movie.
“What’s up, kid?” Dean called out. Bobby John was supposed to be asleep right now; normally, one good story (with voices , Bobby John always pleaded) was enough to knock him out.
The steps creaked.
“Dean,” Cas whispered, motioning towards the paused TV.
Dean looked up, and yep, of course, it would be just Dean’s luck that he would pause it right when that random woman’s bare chest was right in the middle of the screen. Hearing the last few steps creak– thank god for this old house’s early warning system– Dean un-paused the movie, letting it play for a few seconds before pausing it again.
“I’m thirsty,” Bobby John said, stepping down into the kitchen.
His dark brown hair was all mussed up, and he was rubbing his green eyes tiredly. He didn’t change as frequently as he did as a kid– he seemed to have much more control over it now– but the green eyes seemed to be a favorite look of his, and Dean’s chest always felt embarrassingly warm when he thought about it for too long.
“Alright, kiddo, grab some water and get back to bed,” Dean said.
He sank back into the couch, his ears tuned into the sound of Bobby John moving through the kitchen, the sound of a cup against the counter, the sound of water splashing into it…and, finally, the sound of the steps creaking again.
“Goodnight, Bobby John,” Dean said, sitting up to make sure their kid was gone.
“Night, Dads,” Bobby John called.
Dean waited for another moment, hearing Bobby John’s bedroom door close before pressing play on the movie again. Cas cuddled back up against him, on a personal mission to touch as much of Dean’s stomach, arm, and leg as much as possible.
They stayed like that, in soft, domestic bliss, for almost ten whole minutes before the top step creaked again. Dean paused the movie, double-checking this time to make sure he hadn’t paused it in an even worse spot.
“Dads?” Bobby John’s voice drifted down.
“What’s up, buddy?” Dean tapped Cas’s shoulder, and Cas rose off Dean, allowing Dean to extricate himself out from underneath his boyfriend. Cas sank back into the couch cushions immediately.
“Can one of you come upstairs?”
Dean padded up the steps. Even in the near-darkness, with the only light being from the kitchen below, Dean could see that Bobby John looked scared. And, damn, if that didn’t tug viciously at something in Dean’s chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think there’s a monster in my closet,” Bobby John whispered.
Obviously, Dean should not give Bobby John a gun and tell him to hunt the thing. If nothing else, Sam would be all bitchy about it when Cas told him. But, when you factored in the adorable angel Dean had on their couch downstairs, well, he wasn’t entirely above considering just handing Bobby John one of the salt shakers from downstairs.
“Well, you’re in luck, because your dad happens to be a retired monster hunter, okay?”
Bobby John seemed to relax at that. He followed Dean to his bedroom, and Dean flipped on the lightswitch, staring down the offending closet.
“In there?” Dean asked.
Bobby John nodded, his wide eyes on the white door. Dean approached the closet, trying to tamp down the worry that maybe, one of these days, there really would be something in there.
Dean opened the door. Bobby John’s clothes stared back at him. When Dean turned back around, Bobby John looked relieved, but still a little scared.
“See? There’s nothing there. You’re safe.”
Nothing could get in. When he and Cas first got to renovating this place, they’d scratched or painted all the sigils they knew into the foundation, floorboards, behind the drywall…all the sigils except the ones that would hurt Cas and Bobby John, anyway.
“You want to know why?” Dean continued. He lowered himself onto his knees on the plush baby blue carpet, now at eye level with his son. “Because you have two awesome dads who have a lot of experience fighting closet monsters, and they aren’t even going to think about trying to attack while we’re around.”
Well, at least that part was true. He and Cas had hunted down the shapeshifter– Bobby John’s biological father– before moving into this place, not wanting to risk the shifter getting the jump on them.
“But what happens when you’re not around?” Bobby John’s bottom lip trembled. The panic alarm in the parenting center of Dean’s brain jumped up to DEFCON-1. Next time, he was just going to dump a salt line in front of Bobby John’s closet, mess be damned.
“Hey, you know even if I can’t get to you, your other dad will, right? You just gotta think about it really hard, and he’ll be there. Even if you’re trapped in a skyscraper full of terrorists.” Even in Hell.
“What’s a terrorist?”
Dean ruffled Bobby John’s hair. “I’ll tell you when you’re older. Point is, I’ve been in some pretty bad spots, and Cas always had my back. And we’re always going to have yours.”
“Badder than closet monsters?”
“ Way worse than closet monsters. Your other dad is super powerful.”
“Okay.” At least he wasn’t about to cry, Dean thought, as Bobby John looked tentatively back at his closet door.
Do you want me to stay up here until you fall asleep?”
Bobby John hesitated, then shook his head. “I can sleep by myself.”
“Goodnight, kid. Love you.”
Dean pressed a gentle kiss to Bobby John’s forehead.
“Night, Dad.”
Dean stayed in the doorway, anyway, at least until Bobby John slipped under the covers and signaled that it was okay for Dean to turn off the light.
He slipped back downstairs, trying to avoid the creaking steps. Cas was still on the couch, but he lifted off when he saw Dean return, allowing Dean to put his arm back around Cas’s shoulders.
“You know,” Dean said, leaning forward to play the movie, “one of these days, we might actually finish a movie all the way through.”
Cas smiled at him. “I think the only movie that will happen with is the Lego Movie .”
Dean heaved a sigh. “Yeah, well, one day, we’ll have a kid old enough to appreciate true cinema.”
One day. It was weird to think about– as far as Dean was concerned, he’d be fine if everything stayed just like this, forever.
The top step creaked.
“Dads?”
Okay, maybe not forever.