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Dean Winchester had daddy issues.
Oh, he was well aware. Still, when Cas casually suggested they add a little age play to their relationship, he damn near shit his pants.
"You want me to do what? Jesus, Cas! How do you even know about this shit?" Even though Sam had gone into town to do some grocery shopping, he nervously glanced around the library, just in case anyone had heard him
Cas closed the book he'd been researching and gave him the same long-suffering eye roll he often did whenever Dean acted like he was naïve.
"Really, Dean, I'm thousands of years old. I know more than you could possibly learn in a hundred lifetimes."
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Yeah, well thanks, but I don't think so."
Cas frowned. "I'm only suggesting it because I think it might help you sort through some of your issues. You have so many unresolved issues when it comes to your father that..."
"I know!" Dean blurted. "I'm aware. But I don't think putting on a diaper is gonna help me. It's creepy."
Cas laughed softly. "I'm not asking you to wear a diaper. I'm just saying, you might really benefit if you got into a childlike mindset once in a while. You're physically and emotionally drained. Let me take care of you, give you all the love and praise and encouragement you never got as a child. A little structure, a little discipline..."
"Hey," Dean interrupted. "I know Dad was no saint, but he did the best he could."
"I know. Of course he did. But you know as well as I do, sometimes his best wasn't enough. I can see it in your lack of self-confidence. I can feel it in your occasional self-loathing. He wasn't around enough to raise you. Sam was lucky that he had you, but who did you have? You never had a childhood, Dean. You've been an adult since the age of four."
Dean's jaw clenched and he swallowed hard, the truth of Cas's statement bitter on his tongue. "I still don't know exactly what it is you're suggesting. It's a weird sex-thing, right? Like... you're supposed to be my dad, and yet we fuck? Because I'm pretty sure I can't get into that."
Cas smiled. "Not necessarily. Many do, of course. They're not actually related, you know, nor are they actually children, so I don't see a problem. For whatever reason, it fills a need they have. There's no shame in that. Sometimes it's physical, sometimes it's emotional. Some like to revert back to diaper-stage, some teenagers..." He paused as he looked at Dean, who was still squirming in his dining chair. "You're very sexually repressed too, aren't you?"
"What?" Dean sputtered. "No I'm not!"
"Okay, okay," Cas said, quickly trying to placate him. "I'm sorry. Anyway, for you, it would be non-sexual. You get to shut down your mind and relax a bit, do some kid things. And I get to take care of you. No big deal."
"I don't know how to do kid things," Dean cracked.
Cas flinched at the honesty hidden in that veiled attempt at humor. "Well, you'll learn. Think about all the things you did to give Sam a somewhat normal childhood, all the things you wanted to do as a kid but couldn't. Hey, I've seen you eat cereal in front of the TV while watching cartoons..."
Dean's cheeks reddened, just a bit. "Yeah, well, that I can do."
"Just take a break from being an adult for a while. Let me take care of everything," Cas said solemnly. He shot him his best imitation of Sam's puppy eyes, which, he had recently learned, Dean had a hard time saying 'no' to.
"I don't know, Cas..." Dean frowned. "It's really not some weird sex-thing?"
"Not unless you want it to be. Don't you think I'd tell you if it was? And it's not weird, just stop that."
Dean sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he often did when he was nervous. "I don't think I'm going to like it. But I'll try."
Cas smiled. "Good. I've booked a hotel room for the weekend. I thought you'd have too much trouble letting your guard down with Sam in the bunker. "
"Ya' think? " Dean snorted. "You basically want me to act like a kid for... Wait, for how long?"
"Hmmm. I'd like if you could make it all weekend. But we'll see how you do."
Dean shook his head. "You have some weird kinks for an angel."
"You should talk, wing-man."
"Touché."
:::::::::::::::
One minute Dean had been in his bedroom, packing for the weekend, and the next he was with Cas in a beautifully decorated hotel suite. He clutched at his head and blinked hard as he tried to regain his equilibrium, as well as adjust to his surroundings. Man, he hated angel teleportation. The room was huge, and way nicer than anywhere he'd ever stayed.
"You know, a cheap motel would have been fine. Where are we anyway?"
"San Diego," Cas replied. "And for the next two days, this is our home." He walked to the other side of the room and opened a door, exposing an adjoining bedroom. "So I thought it should be nice."
Dean shrugged. "Whatever you say." He sat down on the edge of the bed, taking in all the little details of the room - Board games and coloring books on the table. A new box with a train set, and a bin of toy cars in the corner of the room. By the TV, there was a pile of DVDs, all of which appeared to be cartoons, and there were sugary breakfast cereals on the kitchen counter. Cas had clearly gone to great lengths for this. What the hell was he getting himself into?
Cas could sense the anxiety rolling off of Dean in waves, and he knew that if he didn't ground him soon, Dean would change his mind completely. "Lie down with me for a minute," he said as he climbed into bed. He offered Dean a hand, and pulled him down alongside him. "What are you thinking?" he murmured as he wrapped Dean up in his arms.
"I'm thinking this is fucked up."
Cas sighed. "Trust me, Dean. It'll be good for you. Look, we're going to do this just like when we roleplay, okay? Give me a safeword. If things get too overwhelming for you, you can safeword."
Dean glanced away as his face reddened. They were somewhat new to kinky roleplaying, and he was still struggling with the fact that he enjoyed a little submissive spanking from time to time. He sighed heavily. At least he was the dominant one during sex... "Pie," he muttered.
"Okay," Cas nodded and kissed his forehead. "Now... I was thinking I should call you something else while we're playing. " He tilted Dean's chin upward and stared into his eyes, squinting as if he were reading his very soul. "Your dad used to call you his Little Soldier when you were very young."
Dean frowned. Damn angel mojo. "Yeah. Don't call me that."
"No," Cas mused. "It doesn't suit you. Hmmm..." he thought for a few moments. "Bumblebee. You are definitely my Little Bumblebee," he grinned.
Dean nearly snorted with laughter. "Caaas..." he protested.
"Yes, Bumblebee," he said again. "And how do you feel about me calling you Dee?"
A little huff escaped his throat and Dean froze at hearing the old familiar nickname. He hadn't heard it in so many years, it came as a shock. "Sammy used to call me that," he finally managed.
"I know. It seems like you have mostly positive memories of that name. I thought it might be a good choice. "
Dean nodded slowly. "I guess that would be okay. " The butterflies in his stomach were fluttering faster now and he had the fleeting urge to bolt. He and Cas hadn't been together long, but their friendship had made the transition much easier. Still, intimacy was never Dean's strong suit. Sex, he could do, but intimacy... that was a different story altogether. He was trying though, and if anyone could get him to relax, it was Cas.
"I'm not calling you Dad though," he suddenly blurted. "That's creepy."
"Of course not. Little boys say 'Daddy'," Cas corrected.
Dean slapped a hand to his forehead. "Ugh. Fine. Let's just get this over with."
Cas rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm going to start your dinner. There are clothes in the bathroom for you. Go change, and when you come out, you will be Dee - until I say so, unless you safeword. You've been emotionally stunted since the age of four, so I think it would be best if we try to get you into that mindset today."
"Four?" Dean grumbled. "I don't even remember what four was like!"
"You'll figure it out. Go now."
Dean sighed and shuffled off to the bathroom. He sighed again as he picked up the clothing on the counter. Well, it looked comfy enough, anyway, he supposed. He stripped off his shirt and pulled on the bright blue t-shirt, groaning as he looked in the mirror at the cutesy panda and fox hugging on his chest.
"Tighty-whiteys? Are you fucking kidding me?" he muttered as he picked up the underwear. He held them up, making a face. Well, he certainly he hadn't worn regular briefs since he was a child, and frankly he wasn't looking forward to it. Still, he slipped off his pants and pulled the underwear up his legs, huffing and adjusting himself as he looked in the mirror. The green knit basketball shorts were last, and he was happy to have at least one somewhat normal piece of clothing on. He gave himself a final once-over, took a deep breath, then opened the door.
Cas greeted him with a huge smile as he stepped into the main room.
"Hey, Bumblebee," Cas said softly. "Good job dressing yourself! I'm so proud of you. Dinner will be about a half hour. Do you want to color for a bit?"
"Sure," Dean sighed. God, this was weird.
"Come," Cas said, grabbing his hand and leading him to the coffee table. "Sit."
Dean sat down on the floor and picked up a Sesame Street coloring book.
"You okay?" Cas asked tentatively.
"Yeah." Dean didn't really know what to say. He felt silly just thinking about slipping into... what had Cas called it? Littlespace? He had just barely begun to wrap his head around the concept of subspace in general.
Cas sat on the floor next to him and picked up another coloring book. "Let's color then."
Dean flipped through his book and settled on a picture of Oscar the Grouch. As he snatched up the green crayon, he his mind suddenly wandered to all the times he'd slip a coloring book into the grocery cart for Sammy when they were kids. Dad always left him a little money for groceries when he went away - there wasn't much extra, but coloring books were cheap, and it was something for Sam to do while they bounced around from one crappy motel to the next. He tried so hard to give Sam some sense of normalcy, even though he barely knew how to be a kid himself. Dean finished coloring Oscar's face, suddenly feeling the slightest bit nostalgic.
"You're so good at coloring, Dee. Look at how well you stay inside the lines! I'm going to hang your picture on the refrigerator when you're done," Cas beamed.
Dean nodded uncertainly, and they both colored in silence until a timer in the kitchen rang.
"Okay, Little One. Dinner's ready. Finish up your picture and come to the table, okay?"
"Okay," Dean sighed. He hurriedly colored the rest, because he was freakin' starving, and he sat down at the tiny dining table. "What's for dinner?"
Cas just smiled and returned with a plate, which he set down in front of him. "Would you like ketchup or barbecue sauce?"
Dean glanced down at the food in front of him and grimaced - Dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and tater tots. He always wanted those dino nuggets as a kid, but Dad would never buy them. Those are for babies, he'd say. At eight years old, he just couldn't figure out why his dad wouldn't want his food to be pressed into cool shapes. He'd bought them once when Dad had left grocery money, but he ended up letting Sammy eat them all anyway. Hell, it wasn't what he'd usually want for dinner, but part of him still thought they were kind of cool. He wouldn't say that out loud, of course.
"Both," he said, and Cas happily hummed as he brought him the condiments, along with a straw cup full of apple juice.
"What would you like to do after dinner?" Cas asked as he sat down across from him with his coffee. "I think we should stay inside today, but tomorrow we can go out if you'd like. Maybe to the zoo?"
"I don't want to go out," Dean said in panic. Not like this, anyway.
"We don't have to. But why don't you see how you feel tomorrow before you make a decision?"
Dean nodded gratefully.
Cas smiled as he watched Dean subconsciously bite the head off of each dinosaur before eating their bodies. Despite his slight awkwardness, he could tell he was relaxing a bit overall. He really hoped he could overcome his trepidation, because he could see already how much Dean needed this break from reality.
"Good job eating all your dinner! Such a good boy. So what about tonight?" Cas repeated. "I have a train set, and some cars, and some board games if you'd like. "
"Cars," Dean said automatically, surprising even himself.
"Okay. Cars it is," he said, wiping Dean's face with a wet wipe, despite his protests.
Before Cas had even finished clearing off the table, Dean had made his way over to the toy pile. It wasn't like he wanted to play with kid toys or anything. He was just a car guy, and he wanted to know what kind of cars there were. No big deal. He picked up the canister of Matchbox cars and dumped them onto the floor.
"Ooh, an Impala," he murmured, almost immediately. "Looks like a '67 too..." Okay, that one was coming home with him when this was all over. "'65 Mustang..." he continued talking to himself as he browsed through the pile.
"Ooh, a Cuda! '70 or '71... And look at the old Nova," he said, looking around for Cas and holding the car up.
"Wow. That's a nice one, Dee," Cas said as he wandered into the living area. He contentedly curled up on the couch to watch him. "I can't believe you know them all. You're so smart!"
Dean suddenly felt his cheeks burning. Jesus, he was getting way too excited about stupid toy cars. Okay, if he was being completely honest with himself, he had always wanted to collect the damn things. He didn't have many toys as a kid - Dad had insisted that too many material possessions weren't practical on the road - but that didn't mean he never wanted any. Maybe he was a lot more fucked up than he thought he was.
"What's that green one over there?" Cas asked, pointing.
"This one? It's a Ford Galaxie. Maybe 1970?" Mindlessly, he dug through the shiny metallic pile, visually identifying each car as Cas looked on in amusement. He picked up the Impala again and touched the wheels to the floor, then rolled it back and forth a few times. God this was stupid. He was fighting himself not to play with fucking toys.
"You're allowed to play," Cas said gently, tearing him away from his thoughts. "There's no shame or judgment here, Little One. Stop thinking so much, and just do what you feel."
Dean sighed again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about how he used to watch Sammy play. It always seemed so effortless for him. He focused again on the toy Impala, thinking about how much it looked like Dad's... wait, his car. What the hell was going on in his brain? Hesitantly, he placed the car on the ground again and wheeled it forward, then picked up another with his free hand and made them crash. Before he knew it, he was wheeling cars around imaginary streets, making engine noises and squealing tire sounds, and he was rather disappointed when Cas told him it was time to put them away.
"Come on, Bumblebee. It's getting late and you need a bath before bed."
Dean groaned out loud. He hadn't had an actual bath in years. "I don't want a bath. I wanna shower."
"Don't be silly," Cas insisted. "Little boys take baths. Help me clean up the cars now."
Dean huffed as he put the cars back into the container, grumbling to himself as he pondered what had just happened. He'd actually been enjoying himself, and that creeped him out a little.
"Come on," Cas said again, grabbing his hand and whisking him away to the bathroom.
Dean closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples as he leaned against the counter, wondering just how humiliating this was going to be. As the tub filled with water, Cas tossed a toy boat and a rubber duck into the bath, along with a fizzy tablet that smelled good and turned the water light blue.
"I can't tell if you're sleepy or grumpy," Cas said, giving his hair a quick tussle.
"Both," Dean replied curtly.
"Well, it's almost bedtime," Cas sighed. "Let's get you washed up and you can sleep in my bed tonight if you'd like. You've been such an angel today."
Dean blushed again at the praise, and Cas began pulling his t-shirt off over his head, followed by the shorts and his underwear. While they had seen each other naked a few times, this felt... different. For one, he was vertical. Secondly, this was not at all sexual, and oddly enough, that made him slightly uncomfortable. He could deal with being naked if he was about to get some action, but this felt weird.
"Up you go," Cas suddenly said, scooping him up in his arms and then lowering him into the bath. "Good boy."
Yeah, that wasn't humiliating at all, Dean thought to himself. Damn angel mojo made it look effortless, too. He bit his lip hard, trying not to let the impending tears slip from his eyes. Why the hell was this making him emotional? He didn't know how to act with this constant praise and attention. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and frankly, it was somewhat frightening. He knew he could safeword and make all of this go away, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say it.
Cas took his washcloth and began scrubbing him all over with a minty-smelling soap."Stop fighting it, baby boy," he said softly. "Let me take care of you."
Dean nodded, the tears finally spilling over onto his cheeks. Oh god. He did need this. He needed all of it - the praise, the attention, the break from his stressful adult life, the unconditional love with no expectations, someone to take care of him... God, he was so fucked up. He closed his eyes again and softened a bit as Cas's hands gently wiped away his tears.
"That's it, Dee. Let go," Cas whispered. "You deserve this."
Dean let himself go limp as Cas washed his hair, tilting his head back and rinsing it with cups of fresh water.
"Sleepy boy," Cas smiled tenderly. "Are you ready to get out, or would you like to play with the bath toys for a little bit?"
"M'tired," Dean mumbled. "Ready for bed."
Cas nodded. "Okay. Let's dry off then." Again, he leaned down and effortlessly scooped Dean out of the tub, this time placing his feet on the floor and helping him stand. He worked over every inch of him with a fluffy, white towel, and Dean relaxed this time, a wave of calm washing over him as he gave himself over completely.
"Step," Cas commanded, holding out a red and yellow pair of briefs, which Dean stepped into without hesitation. Cas gently pulled them up his hips and grabbed a bright blue t-shirt next.
"Superman Underoos?" Dean asked, suddenly remembering an identical pair he had a long, long time ago. He didn't even know they still made them, never mind in his size.
"Yes. Your favorite," Cas nodded and smiled. He pulled the shirt over Dean's head, then quickly ran a comb through his hair. "Come on, then," Cas said, grabbing his hand and leading him back to the bedroom area. "Are you going to sleep in my bed or your own tonight?"
"Yours," Dean hummed blissfully, as he climbed into Cas's bed and burrowed underneath the covers.
Cas couldn't help but smile. All the anxiety and uncertainty had rushed out of the room, and Dean was finally at his most base level, relaxed, pliant, and ready to receive all the love and attention Cas planned on giving him. He flipped back the covers, and climbed into bed, and Dean immediately curled up to his chest.
"Such a cuddle bug," Cas said softly as he slid an arm around his waist.
"Mmmhmm," Dean nodded. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he sighed contentedly as Cas's lips gently brushed against his forehead.
"Good night, Bumblebee. I love you."
"I love you, Daddy," Dean murmured. "Can we still go to the zoo tomorrow? "
Cas sighed happily. He was pretty sure Dean wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning, but he answered anyway.
"Of course, my sweet boy."