“You never had to learn?”

“No. Fortunately, Jimmy Novak was already wearing his tie. I don't remember if I had ever taken it off.”

“Hm,” you hummed, thinking back. “No, Angel, I don't think you ever did. It surprised me when you came one day without it. It was like seeing an entirely different person.”

Castiel smiled, handing you the tie. “I think you're exaggerating.”

“Maybe a little bit.” you winked.

To say you had more practice with ties than Castiel did was a vast understatement. Growing up hunting, your dad and Dean would usually pose as FBI and, for some reason unknown to you, chose to go the formal route with clothing—suits, ties, the whole ordeal. Dean even bought his own cufflinks one time.

With that, you were made to learn how to tie... well, ties by the ripe age of seven. Dad always said it was necessary and important to know. Which, thinking back on it, was ridiculous, because he never learned until your seventeenth birthday, and Dean still hadn't learned. Sam could do perfectly well on his own.

At the rate the four of you were going, hunting every free second you had, you've started keeping stocks of already knotted ties in a bedroom drawer. Dean said it was unnecessary and a waste of good practice. You still don't know what he meant by that.

And, some way, Castiel seemed to have found the one tie you've forgotten to knot.

“C'mere,” you gestured, climbing on top of a desk in the corner of your room. “Stand between my legs.”

Castiel did as told, because he always listens to you, and placed his hands on your legs. You wrapped the tie around his neck, pulling him close, making his wings twitch. “I think I quite like this position.”

You laughed. “Yeah?”

“Hmm,” he pretended to think, inching his way a little closer, just as you finished up tying the knot. His hands moved up and gave the outside of your thighs a squeeze. “Yes, honey, I believe I do.”

“Gosh, Cas,” you whispered, stifling another laugh. “You sure know how to talk all sweet.”

He was closer now. You could feel his breath on your lips, and it was almost as if you could feel his grace humming beneath his vessel. It was intoxicating.

Your hand slid back up, gripping just below the knot of the tie and pulling him harshly towards you, straight into a breathtaking kiss. Below the sound of Castiel grunting into your lips from the force, there was a distinct ripping sound.

“I think,” you sighed, pulling away. Cas moved a hand to your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he watched you with content. “We may have popped a stitch.”

“We? May have?”

You smiled. “Hush. Luckily I have some more in a drawer. I hope you didn't love this one...”

“I think I can get by without it.”

A year and a half year later, Dean was your best friend, and Jess was still your boyfriend.

February just started, which meant it was cold and the perfect excuse to make some more cupcakes. But honestly, who were you kidding? In Lorelai Gilmore’s house, an excuse for wanting sweet treats was never needed.

But of course you were, once again, out of an ingredient. Although this time it was ground cinnamon, and since Dean was the only other person at home, you sent him to Doose’s, knowing he likes the walk alone.

“Finally,” you yawned as Dean walked in, finishing up with the wet ingredients, something you started to pass the time. “Welcome back.”

“Hi. Sorry..” he smiled. It was small and hesitant. “Got a little caught up.”

You waved him off. “Don't worry about it. Everything okay over there?”

Over there. You were talking about Doose’s, he knew that, but he so badly wanted to blurt about what he’d seen on his walk back home to you.

“Yep, all’s good. I, uh.. saw Jess. And Rory.”

You blinked. “Okay.. I see them sometimes, too.”

Dean almost smiled. “No, I know. It’s just..” he sighed, saying your name like it pained him physically. “They were.. close. Too close.”

“Too close?”

He nodded, waiting patiently for you to catch on. And you did, eventually.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“I mean,” you sighed. “I don't know what to say.”

Dean walked over to you, sat the cinnamon down with the other dry ingredients, and pulled you into a hug. “You could try What the hell, or maybe even Oh my gosh. Either one works, you know. Just… are you okay?”

Were you okay? Honestly, you weren’t sure. You cared about Jess, a lot, and Rory was the closest thing to a sister you'd ever had. You never would have pictured the two of them together. Sometimes, you actually thought they hated each other.

Though, thinking of that now, maybe they wanted you to think that way. Because the only thing worse than your two favorite people in Stars Hollow hating each other, was the possibility of them loving each other.

So, no, you weren't okay. Not really. It wasn't anger at the fact they were seeing each other, or sadness at the thought that Jess didn't really love you. You were angry that you believed him when he whispered those three words in your ear at night.

You were sad that Rory could be enough for Jess to not want anyone else, while you were just a stand in until she was willing to date him.

“I’ll be okay,” you sniffed, smiling. “Just.. stay with me? Please?”

Dean nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulled away. “Of course. I'm here when you need me. Always.”

“Dean,” you gasped, bucking your hips.

No answer. Lifting your head, you could see he was too focused on the way his fingers went in and out of you, so focused it was as if he couldn't even hear you speaking.

“Dean, I—”

“Can I….” he stopped short. Somehow, his face was more red than before. His fingers were still moving, albeit much slower now. His eyes flickered down. “I wanna… try something.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Dean whined. “Please, don't make me say it.”

“You gotta, baby. How else would I know?”

His face was so red you thought he might burst into flames. “Can I eat you out? Please?”

It was your turn to go red. You’d been with only one other guy, and he was too embarrassed by the mere mention of pleasing you to ever do anything besides a handjob in his car (at least, what can be considered a handjob. There wasn't much going on down there.)

Unlike the last, this was happening at night, and in the privacy of your own room. It was the preferable choice. Instead of trying to shield away from the prying eyes who—with just one peak in your direction—could find out exactly what you were doing.

And you thought—or more so, you hoped—that Dean would stay after, and not get up and leave after getting his rocks off with something other than his own hand.

He wouldn't. You knew that. Dean was the sweetest boy you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting.

“Oh, Dean,” you bit your lip to suppress a smile. “it's fine, you don't have to—”

“I know, but I want to.”

With a look in his eyes, you could tell he was being sincere. They were filled with lust and desperation. You nodded. “Okay.”

Dean didn't wait. The second he got the okay, his lips were attached to your clit, and he sucked. His fingers were back to moving at a quick pace, the sound of your wetness and whines filling up the room.

“Oh, fuck, Dean.” you whined. “Just like that. Doing so good f’me.”

Dean whimpered into you, hips rutting into the mattress again. He looked into your eyes from behind his hair, brows furrowed and eyes glossy.

His fingers curled up again inside of you, free hand pushing on your stomach to keep you still. You hiked your legs over his shoulders, closing his head in between your thighs. You could feel yourself getting close by the second, inner coil tightening so fast and so good.

“M’close,” you whimpered.

Dean closed his eyes and moaned, and with a final nip at your clit, you were tumbling over the edge, back arching off the bed as he kept thrusting his fingers.

Finally coming down off your high, you gazed down at Dean, who looked embarrassed, but was still giving a shy smile, closed mouth smile. Half his face was dripping with your arousal as he shyly (but still hotly) licked his fingers clean.

“Was that… okay?”

You shook your head. Dean's face dropped before he frowned. “...Sorry, I—”

“If was fucking fantastic.” You laughed. “Jesus, Dean, where did you learn that!”

His face turned burning red, only this time from your words, and not your actions. He mumbled a shy Thanks, sweetheart. You seemed to have a great effect on him.

“I suppose it’s my turn to return the favor, yeah?”

Dean bit his lip. “Oh, well, actually… My needs have, uh, been fulfilled..”

You cocked your head to the said, eyes brows raised. “Fulfilled?”

He nodded slowly, sitting up, and now you could see it. There was a big, dark, wet patch on his crotch. Looking under him, you could see there were also a few dark patches on your throw blanket.

Sure, some of it was from you, but you also knew damn good and well that Dean had become a victim of finishing untouched.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry I—I don't know what… this has never….”

“That's kinda hot, actually.”

Dean’s eyes went wide, mouth falling open. “W-what?”

“You think you've got enough in you for another round?”