Fic: The Trouble with Feelings (SPN, Dean/Castiel, PG-13)
Title: The Trouble with Feelings
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Warnings: Repeated use of one specific bad word, beginning with an F. Possible bad writing and OOC characters. Oh, and it may just make your teeth rot.
Spoilers: The final episode of season 5
Word Count: 3,911
Author's Notes: Last night, I couldn't sleep for a number of reasons. I needed something happy to take my mind off things, so I sat down at the computer and this is what came out of my sleep-deprived brain. It is unforgivably girly, fluffy and ridiculous, which isn't really my style, so please, don't be too hard on it. Romance may be one of the easiest genres to write, but it's the most difficult to write well and I never claimed to be Jane Austen or even Sidney Sheldon. I'll go back to writing "Love Is the Greatest Sin of All", now that I've purged my brain of this rot.
Edit: Title changed - this story used to be "Dean Winchester - The Self-Professed Great Big Girl's Blouse"
Disclaimer: Obviously, I have borrowed all the characters and the world in which this is set. I'll be more than happy to return them to their rightful owners, once I'm done playing with them.
Summary: Dean has a crush. It's time to man up and confess.
The Trouble with Feelings
Dean likes to think of himself as a fairly ordinary person, albeit with a rather extraordinary job. Alright, so he may be aware of the fact that he’s probably slightly more handsome than most, but there are plenty of handsome people out there and while it may get him the attention he wants from women, it doesn’t make him stand out that much in a crowd.
He may also be a bit braver. After all, most people who encounter the things he deals with on a daily basis run away screaming or end up pinching themselves, trying to wake up from the horrific nightmare that just materialised before them. So yeah, he’d say he was either born with a heck of a lot of courage or circumstances made him grow some, (although Sam would probably try to pass it off as a general lack of common sense).
He knows he isn't exceptionally clever. Not that he's stupid. He has his bright moments now and then, but when it comes down to it he prefers to rely on his guts rather than his brains. Sam’s the genius in the family and that’s fine by him. He doesn’t really have the patience for all that thinking anyway.
He’s not an especially good person, in the virtuous, kind and benevolent sort of way. He tries to be kind a lot of the time, but sometimes people just get on his nerves. As for virtuous, that’s just laughable. He likes drinking, he likes gambling and hustling, and he really likes sex, almost as much as he likes ganking those sons of bitches that go bump in the night.
Alright, admittedly, he may not be your average Joe, but still, he’s close enough to pass for human. So when was it, he asks himself, as he watches his own personal guardian angel smite the sixth demon that evening, that his life became so frigging weird?
Really, wasn’t it enough that his brother was singled out as the Devil’s chosen one, making a demon kill their mother and sending their father traipsing around the country on some quest of personal vendetta with his two young sons in tow? Wasn’t it enough that another demon killed Sam’s girlfriend, making him follow in their father’s footsteps? Add to this the fact that Dean has died more times than he cares to count, has been to both Heaven and Hell, has met (and played an active role in the often quite violent demise of) innumerable creatures out of nightmare and legend, including, but not limited to angels, gods, demons, vampires, werewolves and the Four Horsemen, and it still wasn’t enough for that capricious Lady Luck or whoever rules his fucked-up life. Even after he and Sam had been caught in the middle of the frigging Apocalypse, finding themselves wedged between the forces of Heaven and Hell, and eventually virtually single-handedly averting the end of the world as we know it, by making Dean stand by while both his brothers fell into the Pit with the two archangels who were wearing them around like Mardi Gras costumes, only to then have Sam sent back to him as good as new (more or less), fate still had one more curveball to throw his way.
He, Dean Winchester, had to go and develop this big, ridiculous, girly crush on a frigging angel of the Lord. An apparently male angel, insofar as angels have specified genders. Also, the weirdest angel of the Lord of all the angels they have so far encountered; an angel without any concept of personal space or other unwritten social codes. The same angel who is currently fighting off four more demons, while Sam is struggling not to be killed by their two buddies and oh yeah, he should probably be helping them, shouldn’t he?
The good thing about killing demons, Dean reflects, as ten demons and what used to be a quaint little roadside diner later, he, Sam and Cas make their way back to the Impala, miraculously unscathed apart from a deep cut in Sam’s left arm and what felt like a broken rib on Dean’s part (both of which have been healed by Cas), is that it tends to clear your mind of all the unwanted junk that so often clutters it. After all, ganking monsters he is good at; feelings, not so much. It only stands to reason therefore that he should probably focus on the former and leave the latter to sort themselves out as best they can on their own. It isn’t as if there aren’t monsters enough to keep him busy until Judgement Day (which he’s hoping will be far, far off in the future, now that Lucy is once again securely in his cage). Now that the Apocalypse is over, most of the MVP’s either dead or incarcerated and God has proven himself voluntarily MIA, it seems that every single little shitty monster and his grandma are trying to grab the throne that Lucifer has vacated and crown themselves the Prince of Darkness. And guess whom it falls on to clean up that mess? That’s right, Sam and Dean Winchester, as if they haven’t already done enough.
Sometimes Dean hates that he has a conscience that won’t allow him to say, “Screw it! I’m out!” and walk away. Why is it that in the stories, the hero gets to ride away into the sunset with his best gal in the saddle in front of him, knowing that his work is done and that happier days await him beyond the horizon, while Dean still finds himself ass-deep in demons and various other undeads.
He tried the happily ever after for a while, after Sam fell, just as he had promised, but how could anything be happy without his brother? Besides, as much as he liked Lisa and doted on Ben, he soon discovered that his dreams of familial bliss were not enough to turn liking into love and he left, before he could do even more damage to yet another family. He still misses them and he misses the idea of what they could have had, but he is beginning to suspect that there is a reason why that life felt all wrong to him, why Lisa seemed wrong for him. A reason that is currently looking at him with those penetrating blue eyes and that look of supreme displeasure on his face that only Dean seems to be able to put there.
Sighing and longing for the days when a whole other sort of nervousness made his heart speed up at that look, Dean raises his eyebrows and stares back. “Something on your mind?” he asks the angel, knowing that it’s best to get it over with.
The Castiel’s eyes narrow slightly. Another person probably wouldn't have noticed it, but Dean has become so attuned to the smallest change in Castiel’s facial expressions that it’s honestly frightening. He could probably write a guide or something: “How to read an angel’s face”. Not that there would be much use for it - there aren't that many people who get the opportunity to look an angel in the face - and besides, Dean rather likes that he’s the foremost expert on the language of Cas. He’d rather keep that title to himself, thank you very much, and no, he won't be admitting that out loud any time soon.
“What were you thinking?” Cas's voice interrupts his musings and for a moment, he panics, thinking that the angel means just now, that he somehow knows and how awkward would that be? However, Cas immediately reassures him by continuing: “You could have got yourself killed!”
Oh, that! That was nothing and Dean relaxes. “I was trying to save your ass, Mister I’m so pumped up on angelic mojo I’ll take on six demons all by myself.”
Alright, so not the best quip he’s ever come up with, but those eyes are really distracting and he isn't really all that annoyed. Cas had proven himself more than capable of taking care of himself, even against six demons, and Dean’s interference had not so much helped as got him into a shitload of trouble, forcing Cas to take on another two demons in addition to the ones he had been already been fighting to bail him out. So yeah, the ground he’s standing on may not be so much solid as really fucking thin ice, but still. They’re alive, aren’t they, and not that hurt, so what is there to bitch about?
Castiel obviously does not share the sentiment and judging by the look on Sam’s face, he very much sides with the angel. “That was really stupid, Dean”, he says, crossing his arms and giving his brother his best ‘you’re such an idiot’ bitchface. “Even for you!”
Dean would like to protest, even if it’s just for principle’s sake, but he’s suddenly beginning to see their point and isn’t that inconvenient? “As if you were doing any better”, he grinds out, now as thoroughly annoyed as he only gets when he knows he’s in the wrong and even more annoyed, since he knows Sam can see right through him. Almost as an afterthought, he adds sullenly, “Bitch!”
“Jerk”, answers Sam without missing a beat. “But seriously, what were you thinking?”
What can he say? He hadn’t been thinking. He had seen that Cas might be in trouble and without pausing to reflect, he'd leapt into the fray to rescue his fair damsel in distress, only to turn out to be the one who needed a knight in shining armour himself. Fuck, he’s pathetic! This stupid crush will turn out to be the death of him - literally. Obviously, his plan of letting his feelings sort themselves out isn’t going to work. He’s going to have to take drastic action, before he actually begins growing girl parts or gets one of them killed.
“I guess I wasn’t”, he mumbles and great, now the final filter between his brain and his mouth is apparently completely fried. “I was worried about Cas, okay, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt!”
“Oh god!” he hears Sam groan, as he goes to open the passenger door of the Impala. “Of all the times to fess up, he chooses to do it in front of a shitty diner full of corpses, while we’re all covered in blood. Talk about romantic!”
So apparently Sammy is already far beyond the point of suspicion. Good to know, although maybe he could have clued Dean in, since he obviously knows how oblivious his brother is, instead of encouraging him to waste his and Lisa’s time on something that was clearly never going to happen.
Raising his voice, Sam says, “You two obviously have some things to discuss. I’ll just wait in the car. And Dean”, he adds looking at his brother, “no chickening out. I’m not about to watch you die because you’re too scared to man up and tell him.”
Dean flips him the bird, Sam sticks out his tongue at him and then he’s suddenly alone with Cas and holy crap, he can’t do this.
“Dean?” Cas’s voice is as low and gravelly as usual, but he doesn’t sound angry anymore. Dean is almost disappointed. If Cas had still been angry, it would have given him an excuse to put this off a while longer. “Dean? What did Sam mean? Tell me what?”
Dean sighs, tells himself that he has faced far worse and still survived and that whatever happens, it is highly unlikely that Cas will cast him off, just for liking him a bit too much.
“Yeah”, he says, which doesn’t exactly answer Cas’s question, but whatever, “we need to talk. But not here.” Whichever way this conversation goes, he is not about to have it where his brother is likely to be watching. “This way.”
He leads the angel to the back of the diner and what do you know, it’s actually kind of nice back here. There’s a narrow path through a small wood and just beyond is the farm where the owners obviously grew the ingredients for the diner’s ‘Homegrown and Homemade Food: Even better than your mama’s cooking'. Dean hears some cows lowing and some sheep bleating and tries not think of what will happen to them now that the farmers are dead. They will have to remember to make an anonymous call to the police, once they are far away from here.
He finds a low stone wall that surrounds the vegetable patch and sits down, indicating to Cas to sit down beside him. They sit there in silence for a while, Dean looking for the words to say what he has to say and Cas alternating between staring at him and examining some object on the farmyard.
Finally, the angel’s patience seems to run out and he breaks the silence. “You had something to tell me”, he prompts.
Dean nods. He still has no idea how to do this, but stalling won't make it any easier. “Yeah”, he says and internally winces at the cracking of his voice. He swallows and tries again. “I do.” There, that’s better, even if the words put him in mind of a wedding ceremony and he is so not thinking about that right now.
Cas waits for another few moments, until it becomes clear that Dean isn’t saying anything else. “Does it have something to do with your actions earlier this evening?”
Dean nods again, grateful for an opening. “Yeah, sort of”, he says. “Look, Cas, I don’t have that many people I care about anymore. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most of the people that were close to me have died.”
“I have noticed”, Cas says and his voice is so uncharacteristically soft that Dean is surprised into looking at him. Cas meets his gaze and there is such sadness and such sympathy in his eyes that Dean has to swallow down a lump in his throat.
“Yeah”, he says and now his voice is even gruffer than the angel’s, “well, I’d rather like to keep the friends I have left alive.”
Cas nods seriously, as if he understands, but it is obvious from his confused look that he really doesn’t. “You were surrounded by six demons, Cas”, Dean says, trying to explain. “I know you’re all strong and powerful now - new and improved - but there were six of them and I just thought it’d be too much even for you to fight them all off.”
“So you were concerned for my safety?” There’s that adorable head tilt (and he did not just think that), as if the angel can’t understand why anyone would worry about him.
Dean huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess I was”, he says. “The thing is, Cas” - he takes a deep breath before plunging in - “you’ve come to mean rather a lot to me.”
“You mean a lot to me too, Dean”, Cas says promptly, even though he still seems confused. “However, that is no reason for you to risk your life for me.”
“I’m not sure I have a choice”, Dean admits and this is really a whole new level of low. “It wasn’t exactly a conscious decision. I thought you were in danger and I reacted.” He looks down at the hands he has clutched in his lap. “I can’t watch you die for me again, Cas. I won’t! I don’t even want to see you get hurt for me ever again. You’ve suffered enough for my sake!”
“And you don’t think that I would suffer if I knew that you had been injured or even died for me?” the angel asks quietly and Dean has to admit that he has a point.
“Fair enough”, he concedes, “and I’ll try not to do something that stupid again if you promise not to take on six demons on your own again.”
He’s glad that he raised his eyes just then, because otherwise he would have missed the tiny smile that plays at the corners of Cas’s mouth, the one that always makes his knees week, his head swim and his heart sing. He hates the sensation, but he loves the cause, loves that he can make a smile appear on that usually so serious face.
“I believe we have a deal”, Cas says and holds out his right hand.
Dean snorts, but shakes it solemnly. “Deal”, he agrees.
His nerves seem to have calmed down, now that he has apparently dodged the bullet again and he’s getting ready to go back to the car and face Sam’s disapproval when he notices that Cas isn’t moving. He looks at the angel and finds that unnervingly penetrating stare fixed on his face again.
“Was that what Sam wanted you to tell me?” Cas asks.
Dean sighs. Apparently, this is one bullet that will hit its mark. Or maybe it’s an arrow. He can just imagine one of those creepy, fat, naked Cupids soaring over their heads, giggling maniacally at the spectacle Dean is about to make of himself. Actually, that would explain rather a lot.
“There aren’t any... other angels around here, are there?” he asks Cas suspiciously and there’s the head tilt again, along with a startled widening of the eyes.
“No”, the angel answers slowly, clearly wondering if Dean has lost it.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I would know.”
Yeah, Dean guesses he would. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, that he wouldn’t get such a perfect excuse. It’s all him then. Life, man! It really sucks sometimes.
“Dean.” Great, now the angel sounds worried. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah”, Dean answers. “Peachy. Listen, Cas, I do have something I should probably tell you, but I’m not sure how to.”
“You can tell me anything”, Cas assures him gravely and Dean can’t help but smile at his earnestness. He knows Cas means it and it’s sort of a relief. Whatever happens, he definitely won’t be losing a friend here tonight.
“You know when I said that you mean a lot to me”, he begins. Cas nods and opens his mouth to reply, but Dean cuts him off. "I don’t think you quite understood me.” Another head tilt, but at least Cas stays silent. "You thought I meant as a friend, didn’t you?” Cas nods, still looking puzzled. “I didn’t.”
At this, the angel apparently can’t stay quiet any longer. “You do not see me as your friend”, he asks and Dean could swear that he hears a trace of hurt in his voice.
“No, no, no”, he hurries to assure him, “that’s not what I meant. You are my friend! My best friend, if you don’t count Sam and Bobby, which I don’t because they’re more like family. I just mean that you mean more to me than just a friend.”
He forces himself to meet the angel’s gaze, trying to convey with his eyes what he can’t bring himself to say in words, but he should have known it’d be a hopeless case. Cas looks utterly bewildered. “I'm afraid I don't understand”, he admits. “What is more than friendship? You obviously don't mean family, because you said Sam and Bobby are family and that seems to exclude me.”
Dean sighs. He knew he’d fail at this. He just doesn’t have the language to talk about feelings. He’s not a man of words, he’s a man of action. And maybe that’s the answer. Meditatively tilting his own head, he looks at the angel and weighs his options. He could continue to drop increasingly obvious hints and hope that Cas gets them, but knowing the angel, he won’t until Dean actually comes right out and says it. Or he could just show the angel what he means and hope that Cas doesn’t smite him for it. He tries to imagine himself forming the words, “I love you! I am in love with you!” to the angel and almost shudders at the idea. No, he is not ready for that. Door number two it is then.
“No”, he murmurs as he moves in closer, “I don't mean family.”
Cas’s lips are firm and warm when Dean finally presses his own against them. They are slightly chapped, as Dean knew that they would be, but they feel absolutely divine (no pun intended). He's afraid to open his eyes, unsure of what expression he'll see on Castiel's face, so he keeps them closed, even when he pulls away a moment later. He has dreamed of this more times than he cares to admit, even to himself, and he just wants to savour the moment a while longer.
Cas is sitting absolutely still beside him, as if frozen in shock, and while he doesn’t speak, Dean can pretend that it’s just the surprise that kept him from responding. Dean's heart is pounding so loudly and he has no doubt that Cas can hear it, but then, there aren’t really any more secrets for him to keep, are there?
Eventually, the suspense becomes too much to bear and steeling himself against the possible rejection, he looks up. Cas is staring at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes huge and incredulous. He has raised one hand to his lips, as if to feel if any traces of Dean’s kiss remain there, and his breathing seems rather shallow. When Dean risks a small, uncertain smile at him, he seems to regain his senses and his face lights up in an answering smile.
“Oh”, he says and if Dean thought his voice was gravelly before, it's nothing to this, “yes. I guess that is more than friendship.”
His tone is full of happiness and affection and Dean suddenly feels like ten times the fool for not realising sooner that as much as he likes the angel, the angel has always liked him more. He said it himself earlier. Cas has suffered through so much for him and you don’t do that unless you like someone, unless you...
Oh! Maybe the l-word won’t be that difficult to say, after all.
He is sure that his face is positively beaming as he leans in to kiss the angel more properly. This time, Cas is more than happy to respond, with an enthusiasm that more than makes up for his obvious lack of experience. He eagerly follows Dean’s lead, until the latter is forced to break away or pass out for lack of oxygen. Oh yes, they’re definitely going to be doing this a lot from now on, demons or no demons.
For now, though, Sammy’s waiting. They need to find a nice and cosy motel for the night, where they can get two rooms, one for Sam and one for him and Castiel. As for what will happen then? Only time will tell, but one thing’s for certain: Cas still has a lot to experience and Dean plans to make the most of the time they have together. After all, Dean once promised that he would not let Cas die a virgin and he’s going to make sure he doesn’t break that promise again.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Warnings: Repeated use of one specific bad word, beginning with an F. Possible bad writing and OOC characters. Oh, and it may just make your teeth rot.
Spoilers: The final episode of season 5
Word Count: 3,911
Author's Notes: Last night, I couldn't sleep for a number of reasons. I needed something happy to take my mind off things, so I sat down at the computer and this is what came out of my sleep-deprived brain. It is unforgivably girly, fluffy and ridiculous, which isn't really my style, so please, don't be too hard on it. Romance may be one of the easiest genres to write, but it's the most difficult to write well and I never claimed to be Jane Austen or even Sidney Sheldon. I'll go back to writing "Love Is the Greatest Sin of All", now that I've purged my brain of this rot.
Edit: Title changed - this story used to be "Dean Winchester - The Self-Professed Great Big Girl's Blouse"
Disclaimer: Obviously, I have borrowed all the characters and the world in which this is set. I'll be more than happy to return them to their rightful owners, once I'm done playing with them.
Summary: Dean has a crush. It's time to man up and confess.
The Trouble with Feelings
Dean likes to think of himself as a fairly ordinary person, albeit with a rather extraordinary job. Alright, so he may be aware of the fact that he’s probably slightly more handsome than most, but there are plenty of handsome people out there and while it may get him the attention he wants from women, it doesn’t make him stand out that much in a crowd.
He may also be a bit braver. After all, most people who encounter the things he deals with on a daily basis run away screaming or end up pinching themselves, trying to wake up from the horrific nightmare that just materialised before them. So yeah, he’d say he was either born with a heck of a lot of courage or circumstances made him grow some, (although Sam would probably try to pass it off as a general lack of common sense).
He knows he isn't exceptionally clever. Not that he's stupid. He has his bright moments now and then, but when it comes down to it he prefers to rely on his guts rather than his brains. Sam’s the genius in the family and that’s fine by him. He doesn’t really have the patience for all that thinking anyway.
He’s not an especially good person, in the virtuous, kind and benevolent sort of way. He tries to be kind a lot of the time, but sometimes people just get on his nerves. As for virtuous, that’s just laughable. He likes drinking, he likes gambling and hustling, and he really likes sex, almost as much as he likes ganking those sons of bitches that go bump in the night.
Alright, admittedly, he may not be your average Joe, but still, he’s close enough to pass for human. So when was it, he asks himself, as he watches his own personal guardian angel smite the sixth demon that evening, that his life became so frigging weird?
Really, wasn’t it enough that his brother was singled out as the Devil’s chosen one, making a demon kill their mother and sending their father traipsing around the country on some quest of personal vendetta with his two young sons in tow? Wasn’t it enough that another demon killed Sam’s girlfriend, making him follow in their father’s footsteps? Add to this the fact that Dean has died more times than he cares to count, has been to both Heaven and Hell, has met (and played an active role in the often quite violent demise of) innumerable creatures out of nightmare and legend, including, but not limited to angels, gods, demons, vampires, werewolves and the Four Horsemen, and it still wasn’t enough for that capricious Lady Luck or whoever rules his fucked-up life. Even after he and Sam had been caught in the middle of the frigging Apocalypse, finding themselves wedged between the forces of Heaven and Hell, and eventually virtually single-handedly averting the end of the world as we know it, by making Dean stand by while both his brothers fell into the Pit with the two archangels who were wearing them around like Mardi Gras costumes, only to then have Sam sent back to him as good as new (more or less), fate still had one more curveball to throw his way.
He, Dean Winchester, had to go and develop this big, ridiculous, girly crush on a frigging angel of the Lord. An apparently male angel, insofar as angels have specified genders. Also, the weirdest angel of the Lord of all the angels they have so far encountered; an angel without any concept of personal space or other unwritten social codes. The same angel who is currently fighting off four more demons, while Sam is struggling not to be killed by their two buddies and oh yeah, he should probably be helping them, shouldn’t he?
The good thing about killing demons, Dean reflects, as ten demons and what used to be a quaint little roadside diner later, he, Sam and Cas make their way back to the Impala, miraculously unscathed apart from a deep cut in Sam’s left arm and what felt like a broken rib on Dean’s part (both of which have been healed by Cas), is that it tends to clear your mind of all the unwanted junk that so often clutters it. After all, ganking monsters he is good at; feelings, not so much. It only stands to reason therefore that he should probably focus on the former and leave the latter to sort themselves out as best they can on their own. It isn’t as if there aren’t monsters enough to keep him busy until Judgement Day (which he’s hoping will be far, far off in the future, now that Lucy is once again securely in his cage). Now that the Apocalypse is over, most of the MVP’s either dead or incarcerated and God has proven himself voluntarily MIA, it seems that every single little shitty monster and his grandma are trying to grab the throne that Lucifer has vacated and crown themselves the Prince of Darkness. And guess whom it falls on to clean up that mess? That’s right, Sam and Dean Winchester, as if they haven’t already done enough.
Sometimes Dean hates that he has a conscience that won’t allow him to say, “Screw it! I’m out!” and walk away. Why is it that in the stories, the hero gets to ride away into the sunset with his best gal in the saddle in front of him, knowing that his work is done and that happier days await him beyond the horizon, while Dean still finds himself ass-deep in demons and various other undeads.
He tried the happily ever after for a while, after Sam fell, just as he had promised, but how could anything be happy without his brother? Besides, as much as he liked Lisa and doted on Ben, he soon discovered that his dreams of familial bliss were not enough to turn liking into love and he left, before he could do even more damage to yet another family. He still misses them and he misses the idea of what they could have had, but he is beginning to suspect that there is a reason why that life felt all wrong to him, why Lisa seemed wrong for him. A reason that is currently looking at him with those penetrating blue eyes and that look of supreme displeasure on his face that only Dean seems to be able to put there.
Sighing and longing for the days when a whole other sort of nervousness made his heart speed up at that look, Dean raises his eyebrows and stares back. “Something on your mind?” he asks the angel, knowing that it’s best to get it over with.
The Castiel’s eyes narrow slightly. Another person probably wouldn't have noticed it, but Dean has become so attuned to the smallest change in Castiel’s facial expressions that it’s honestly frightening. He could probably write a guide or something: “How to read an angel’s face”. Not that there would be much use for it - there aren't that many people who get the opportunity to look an angel in the face - and besides, Dean rather likes that he’s the foremost expert on the language of Cas. He’d rather keep that title to himself, thank you very much, and no, he won't be admitting that out loud any time soon.
“What were you thinking?” Cas's voice interrupts his musings and for a moment, he panics, thinking that the angel means just now, that he somehow knows and how awkward would that be? However, Cas immediately reassures him by continuing: “You could have got yourself killed!”
Oh, that! That was nothing and Dean relaxes. “I was trying to save your ass, Mister I’m so pumped up on angelic mojo I’ll take on six demons all by myself.”
Alright, so not the best quip he’s ever come up with, but those eyes are really distracting and he isn't really all that annoyed. Cas had proven himself more than capable of taking care of himself, even against six demons, and Dean’s interference had not so much helped as got him into a shitload of trouble, forcing Cas to take on another two demons in addition to the ones he had been already been fighting to bail him out. So yeah, the ground he’s standing on may not be so much solid as really fucking thin ice, but still. They’re alive, aren’t they, and not that hurt, so what is there to bitch about?
Castiel obviously does not share the sentiment and judging by the look on Sam’s face, he very much sides with the angel. “That was really stupid, Dean”, he says, crossing his arms and giving his brother his best ‘you’re such an idiot’ bitchface. “Even for you!”
Dean would like to protest, even if it’s just for principle’s sake, but he’s suddenly beginning to see their point and isn’t that inconvenient? “As if you were doing any better”, he grinds out, now as thoroughly annoyed as he only gets when he knows he’s in the wrong and even more annoyed, since he knows Sam can see right through him. Almost as an afterthought, he adds sullenly, “Bitch!”
“Jerk”, answers Sam without missing a beat. “But seriously, what were you thinking?”
What can he say? He hadn’t been thinking. He had seen that Cas might be in trouble and without pausing to reflect, he'd leapt into the fray to rescue his fair damsel in distress, only to turn out to be the one who needed a knight in shining armour himself. Fuck, he’s pathetic! This stupid crush will turn out to be the death of him - literally. Obviously, his plan of letting his feelings sort themselves out isn’t going to work. He’s going to have to take drastic action, before he actually begins growing girl parts or gets one of them killed.
“I guess I wasn’t”, he mumbles and great, now the final filter between his brain and his mouth is apparently completely fried. “I was worried about Cas, okay, and I wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt!”
“Oh god!” he hears Sam groan, as he goes to open the passenger door of the Impala. “Of all the times to fess up, he chooses to do it in front of a shitty diner full of corpses, while we’re all covered in blood. Talk about romantic!”
So apparently Sammy is already far beyond the point of suspicion. Good to know, although maybe he could have clued Dean in, since he obviously knows how oblivious his brother is, instead of encouraging him to waste his and Lisa’s time on something that was clearly never going to happen.
Raising his voice, Sam says, “You two obviously have some things to discuss. I’ll just wait in the car. And Dean”, he adds looking at his brother, “no chickening out. I’m not about to watch you die because you’re too scared to man up and tell him.”
Dean flips him the bird, Sam sticks out his tongue at him and then he’s suddenly alone with Cas and holy crap, he can’t do this.
“Dean?” Cas’s voice is as low and gravelly as usual, but he doesn’t sound angry anymore. Dean is almost disappointed. If Cas had still been angry, it would have given him an excuse to put this off a while longer. “Dean? What did Sam mean? Tell me what?”
Dean sighs, tells himself that he has faced far worse and still survived and that whatever happens, it is highly unlikely that Cas will cast him off, just for liking him a bit too much.
“Yeah”, he says, which doesn’t exactly answer Cas’s question, but whatever, “we need to talk. But not here.” Whichever way this conversation goes, he is not about to have it where his brother is likely to be watching. “This way.”
He leads the angel to the back of the diner and what do you know, it’s actually kind of nice back here. There’s a narrow path through a small wood and just beyond is the farm where the owners obviously grew the ingredients for the diner’s ‘Homegrown and Homemade Food: Even better than your mama’s cooking'. Dean hears some cows lowing and some sheep bleating and tries not think of what will happen to them now that the farmers are dead. They will have to remember to make an anonymous call to the police, once they are far away from here.
He finds a low stone wall that surrounds the vegetable patch and sits down, indicating to Cas to sit down beside him. They sit there in silence for a while, Dean looking for the words to say what he has to say and Cas alternating between staring at him and examining some object on the farmyard.
Finally, the angel’s patience seems to run out and he breaks the silence. “You had something to tell me”, he prompts.
Dean nods. He still has no idea how to do this, but stalling won't make it any easier. “Yeah”, he says and internally winces at the cracking of his voice. He swallows and tries again. “I do.” There, that’s better, even if the words put him in mind of a wedding ceremony and he is so not thinking about that right now.
Cas waits for another few moments, until it becomes clear that Dean isn’t saying anything else. “Does it have something to do with your actions earlier this evening?”
Dean nods again, grateful for an opening. “Yeah, sort of”, he says. “Look, Cas, I don’t have that many people I care about anymore. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most of the people that were close to me have died.”
“I have noticed”, Cas says and his voice is so uncharacteristically soft that Dean is surprised into looking at him. Cas meets his gaze and there is such sadness and such sympathy in his eyes that Dean has to swallow down a lump in his throat.
“Yeah”, he says and now his voice is even gruffer than the angel’s, “well, I’d rather like to keep the friends I have left alive.”
Cas nods seriously, as if he understands, but it is obvious from his confused look that he really doesn’t. “You were surrounded by six demons, Cas”, Dean says, trying to explain. “I know you’re all strong and powerful now - new and improved - but there were six of them and I just thought it’d be too much even for you to fight them all off.”
“So you were concerned for my safety?” There’s that adorable head tilt (and he did not just think that), as if the angel can’t understand why anyone would worry about him.
Dean huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess I was”, he says. “The thing is, Cas” - he takes a deep breath before plunging in - “you’ve come to mean rather a lot to me.”
“You mean a lot to me too, Dean”, Cas says promptly, even though he still seems confused. “However, that is no reason for you to risk your life for me.”
“I’m not sure I have a choice”, Dean admits and this is really a whole new level of low. “It wasn’t exactly a conscious decision. I thought you were in danger and I reacted.” He looks down at the hands he has clutched in his lap. “I can’t watch you die for me again, Cas. I won’t! I don’t even want to see you get hurt for me ever again. You’ve suffered enough for my sake!”
“And you don’t think that I would suffer if I knew that you had been injured or even died for me?” the angel asks quietly and Dean has to admit that he has a point.
“Fair enough”, he concedes, “and I’ll try not to do something that stupid again if you promise not to take on six demons on your own again.”
He’s glad that he raised his eyes just then, because otherwise he would have missed the tiny smile that plays at the corners of Cas’s mouth, the one that always makes his knees week, his head swim and his heart sing. He hates the sensation, but he loves the cause, loves that he can make a smile appear on that usually so serious face.
“I believe we have a deal”, Cas says and holds out his right hand.
Dean snorts, but shakes it solemnly. “Deal”, he agrees.
His nerves seem to have calmed down, now that he has apparently dodged the bullet again and he’s getting ready to go back to the car and face Sam’s disapproval when he notices that Cas isn’t moving. He looks at the angel and finds that unnervingly penetrating stare fixed on his face again.
“Was that what Sam wanted you to tell me?” Cas asks.
Dean sighs. Apparently, this is one bullet that will hit its mark. Or maybe it’s an arrow. He can just imagine one of those creepy, fat, naked Cupids soaring over their heads, giggling maniacally at the spectacle Dean is about to make of himself. Actually, that would explain rather a lot.
“There aren’t any... other angels around here, are there?” he asks Cas suspiciously and there’s the head tilt again, along with a startled widening of the eyes.
“No”, the angel answers slowly, clearly wondering if Dean has lost it.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I would know.”
Yeah, Dean guesses he would. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, that he wouldn’t get such a perfect excuse. It’s all him then. Life, man! It really sucks sometimes.
“Dean.” Great, now the angel sounds worried. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah”, Dean answers. “Peachy. Listen, Cas, I do have something I should probably tell you, but I’m not sure how to.”
“You can tell me anything”, Cas assures him gravely and Dean can’t help but smile at his earnestness. He knows Cas means it and it’s sort of a relief. Whatever happens, he definitely won’t be losing a friend here tonight.
“You know when I said that you mean a lot to me”, he begins. Cas nods and opens his mouth to reply, but Dean cuts him off. "I don’t think you quite understood me.” Another head tilt, but at least Cas stays silent. "You thought I meant as a friend, didn’t you?” Cas nods, still looking puzzled. “I didn’t.”
At this, the angel apparently can’t stay quiet any longer. “You do not see me as your friend”, he asks and Dean could swear that he hears a trace of hurt in his voice.
“No, no, no”, he hurries to assure him, “that’s not what I meant. You are my friend! My best friend, if you don’t count Sam and Bobby, which I don’t because they’re more like family. I just mean that you mean more to me than just a friend.”
He forces himself to meet the angel’s gaze, trying to convey with his eyes what he can’t bring himself to say in words, but he should have known it’d be a hopeless case. Cas looks utterly bewildered. “I'm afraid I don't understand”, he admits. “What is more than friendship? You obviously don't mean family, because you said Sam and Bobby are family and that seems to exclude me.”
Dean sighs. He knew he’d fail at this. He just doesn’t have the language to talk about feelings. He’s not a man of words, he’s a man of action. And maybe that’s the answer. Meditatively tilting his own head, he looks at the angel and weighs his options. He could continue to drop increasingly obvious hints and hope that Cas gets them, but knowing the angel, he won’t until Dean actually comes right out and says it. Or he could just show the angel what he means and hope that Cas doesn’t smite him for it. He tries to imagine himself forming the words, “I love you! I am in love with you!” to the angel and almost shudders at the idea. No, he is not ready for that. Door number two it is then.
“No”, he murmurs as he moves in closer, “I don't mean family.”
Cas’s lips are firm and warm when Dean finally presses his own against them. They are slightly chapped, as Dean knew that they would be, but they feel absolutely divine (no pun intended). He's afraid to open his eyes, unsure of what expression he'll see on Castiel's face, so he keeps them closed, even when he pulls away a moment later. He has dreamed of this more times than he cares to admit, even to himself, and he just wants to savour the moment a while longer.
Cas is sitting absolutely still beside him, as if frozen in shock, and while he doesn’t speak, Dean can pretend that it’s just the surprise that kept him from responding. Dean's heart is pounding so loudly and he has no doubt that Cas can hear it, but then, there aren’t really any more secrets for him to keep, are there?
Eventually, the suspense becomes too much to bear and steeling himself against the possible rejection, he looks up. Cas is staring at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes huge and incredulous. He has raised one hand to his lips, as if to feel if any traces of Dean’s kiss remain there, and his breathing seems rather shallow. When Dean risks a small, uncertain smile at him, he seems to regain his senses and his face lights up in an answering smile.
“Oh”, he says and if Dean thought his voice was gravelly before, it's nothing to this, “yes. I guess that is more than friendship.”
His tone is full of happiness and affection and Dean suddenly feels like ten times the fool for not realising sooner that as much as he likes the angel, the angel has always liked him more. He said it himself earlier. Cas has suffered through so much for him and you don’t do that unless you like someone, unless you...
Oh! Maybe the l-word won’t be that difficult to say, after all.
He is sure that his face is positively beaming as he leans in to kiss the angel more properly. This time, Cas is more than happy to respond, with an enthusiasm that more than makes up for his obvious lack of experience. He eagerly follows Dean’s lead, until the latter is forced to break away or pass out for lack of oxygen. Oh yes, they’re definitely going to be doing this a lot from now on, demons or no demons.
For now, though, Sammy’s waiting. They need to find a nice and cosy motel for the night, where they can get two rooms, one for Sam and one for him and Castiel. As for what will happen then? Only time will tell, but one thing’s for certain: Cas still has a lot to experience and Dean plans to make the most of the time they have together. After all, Dean once promised that he would not let Cas die a virgin and he’s going to make sure he doesn’t break that promise again.