Blind. BoyxBoy Destiel

18

"Wanna' go to the beach after work angel?" Dean asks as he throws on a torn old shirt for work. Oil stains smeared on his shirt Cas licks his thumb and rubs them off where it got on his skin.
"Sure human." Cas says as he starts getting dressed himself.
"You should be calling me angel in response." Dean chuckles as he pulls blue jeans over his compression shorts.
"But you aren't an angel?" Cas questions.
"Who said you are?"
"You."
"Oh- uh- son of a bitch!" Dean grins and pushes Cas' shoulder playfully.
"I need you." He let's his fingers drift over his soon to be husbands collar bone.
"I love you too." Cas giggles, knowing that was the meaning behind Deans choice of words
"Nerd." Dean mumbles as he takes Cas' shoulders and wraps his arms around him.
Cas breathes in Deans scent of cheap alcohol and motel bar soap that seems to follow him around.
Dean presses his muscular form onto his arctic blue eyed partners.
He leans back onto the bed and kisses Cas' soft lips.
"You're amazing." He mumbles, running his hands through Cas' short dark hair.
"And you are too. Yet for now I've got to go to work." Cas smiles as he sits up and kisses Deans forehead lightly.
"Asshole." Dean chuckles as he moves to the side and grabs his leather jacket.
Once Dean heads down to the parking lot with his cane and sunglasses a oddly familiar voice comes to his ears.
"Well hello again Dean Winchester."
His heart drops to his feet.
"Hey there Alastair." His voice comes out steady, calmly weighing each word.
"How are things." he stated more than asked.
"Good. I'm happy."
"You and the little slut, Cas is it?" Alastair sighs, sliding up closer to Dean who's stiff as a board.
"Don't call him that." Dean slips his hands into his pockets, clenching his switch blade.
Alastair gently places a hand on Deans shoulder.
"I miss you baby." he whispers.
"Well I don't miss you." Dean hisses and pulls the knife up to Alastair's neck.
"Like you'll do anything with that." He laughs.
"Try me." Dean smiles, remembering when his father first pushed the blade into his hand.
"Carry this like your life depends on it. Because it does." The words paired with the cold metal hitting Deans open palm made him flinch.
"What is it?" He asks innocently, brushing over the handle with his fingers.
"A switchblade kido. Now let me just teach you how to open it without cutting off those sausage links of yours." His father was grinning a bit, his brother reading while laying back on the couch.
"You're giving him a switchblade the day after he's discharged from the hospital? Did you notice he's BLIND dad?" Seven year old Sam sasses.
"Oh shut it Sammy. I could still beat you at wrestling!" Dean laughs as he looks over to the direction of his brothers voice.
"I've noticed you work at your dads old shop still."
Had his ex-boyfriend been freaking watching him at work?
With the knife still up to Alastair's throat Dean pulls out his keys.
"Now. I'm either going to have to hurt you, or you can let me go to work." Dean grits his teeth, planning a move.
"Well looks like I'm getting a little scratch." Alastair laughs.
As soon as he does he makes a move for Deans shoulders, Dean dodges the attack and pulls up his knee. The first point of contact is groin, next a swift uppercut to the nose.
And Sam said self defense and wrestling classes were bullshit.
Alastair is now a crumpled heap on the concrete for the moment and Dean dashes to his car.
He smiles and heads to the shop.
"Aye boss!" Crowley greets him as he arrives.
"Hey man. Any creeps show up, get em' out." Dean says as he walks into the shop.
"Alright!" He calls as Dean goes deeper into the lines of cars, "Weird dude."