procasdeandating:

“It’s hot, Dean. Fix it,” Cas grumbles from where he’s lounging on the couch. His shirt is discarded and his sweatpants are hanging loosely from his hips.

“Gee, Cas, what do you think I’m tryna do?” Dean growls back.

They have three fans blowing now, one on Cas, blowing his wildly messy hair into even wilder forms, and one blowing on Dean as he’s in the closet trying to repair their water heater.

He always hates when summer rolls around because it’s guaranteed that at least two times a week someone’s AC is going to break down which means he has to fix it. At first he hated when he got the call that the unit in 312B had broken down. Cas was a grouch when he had no air running his apartment, and at first his constant hovering and questioning was irritating. But something seemed to change when Dean had run into the professor at the local gay bar.

Dean of course hadn’t been one to not check out the goods, even if he didn’t know if they were for sale, and that’s exactly what he did when he thought Cas wasn’t looking. But ever since he and Cas had run into each other at the bar, things had been different, especially after they started hooking up and then dating.

“Dean, if you don’t hurry, I think I’m going to melt,” Cas whines, now right behind Dean.

Strong hands start massaging Dean’s neck, and it feels great even if they’re sweaty.

“Can’t have that now can we.”

Dean feels Cas’ lips brush against his ear, breath warmer than the heat of the apartment.

“No we can’t, Mr. Handyman. Who’s going to repay you for your hard-work?” Cas whispers, promises of naked sweaty skin grinding against him lingering on his breath.  

Yeah, he definitely doesn’t much mind getting that call to go fix the AC in 312B. Especially with a hot, pain-in-the-ass boyfriend, who lives in it.