A Heart That Hurts (Is A Heart That Works) - Chapter 6
On we go.
Chapter 6
Castiel’s arms, face, and the back of his neck felt like they were on fire. When Dean had woken him from his nap, Castiel had received a lecture on how he could get sunburned if his skin was exposed to the sun for a long time, especially if he didn’t already have a tan. Then he’d been recruited to help with dinner, which consisted of burgers and chips.
Castiel helped willingly, trying not to let on how uncomfortable he was all through dinner. Claire remained largely silent, responding with questions about her day with short sentences that didn’t give much real information. That left Dean, Sam, and Bobby to carry the conversation, which made for a very awkward dinner.
“I cleared out the other room upstairs,” Bobby announced as Castiel helped Sam clear the table. “If one of you boys wants to take it.”
“Sam can have it,” Dean said. “Cas and I are okay down here. I have to get up early anyway.”
Surprise flitted across Sam’s face, but he shrugged. “Thanks, Dean. I have to get to work.”
“I can help with the dishes,” Claire offered.
Bobby smiled at her. “Thanks. I’ll give you a hand while Dean takes care of Castiel.”
Bobby’s pointed look caused Castiel to stare fixedly at the wood grain of the table, feeling the heat in his face.
“I get sunburned, too, when I’m outside for too long.”
Claire’s quiet words caused Castiel to glance up to meet her eyes. Castiel knew her, of course, probably better than either of her parents had in a way, and yet there was a disconnect between them.
“Come on, Cas,” Dean said softly. “We’ll get you taken care of.”
Castiel waited until they were in the upstairs bathroom to speak. “Dean, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For this.” He stared down at the bright red skin on his forearms. “I don’t know enough about being human. Even a child can take care of herself better than I-”
Dean seized his shoulders, cutting him off. “Claire’s had twelve years to learn how to be human, Cas. She had a mother and a father to help; you’ve got me.”
“You are more than enough, Dean.” Castiel looked earnestly into Dean’s eyes, willing him to believe it. “You are-” He stopped and changed tactics. “I disobeyed for you, and I would do it again.”
Dean’s expression didn’t change; he stared into Castiel’s eyes as though searching for something. Dean put a finger under Castiel’s chin, one of the few places on his face that wasn’t on fire, and tipped his head up before pressing his lips to Castiel’s.
For a moment, Castiel didn’t respond, not knowing what to do. Dean’s kiss was gentle but insistent, and Castiel began to echo his movements, opening his mouth when Dean’s tongue pressed against his lips.
Dean’s hands latched onto Castiel’s hips, and Castiel found his own hands fluttering uncertainly before landing on Dean’s upper arms, gripping the hard muscle of Dean’s biceps.
Castiel didn’t know who pulled back first, but Dean was the one to take a step back, his hands falling away.
“Go ahead and get cleaned up,” Dean said softly. “Better keep the water cool, though. It’ll feel better against that burn. When you’re out, I’ll put something on it.”
“Dean-”
“Get cleaned up,” Dean repeated. “I’ll be downstairs.”
Castiel sighed, uncertain of what the kiss had meant. He knew that Dean often was physical with those for whom he cared nothing, but he hoped that wasn’t the case this time.
Still, the kiss had been comforting, even invigorating, and Castiel thought he could add kissing Dean to the list of things that were good about being human.
~~~~~
Dean watched as Sam pulled into the salvage yard in the Impala from his spot on the bed of an ancient truck. His mind was still whirling with thoughts of Castiel and their kiss, and he’d been unable to settle for long.
“What are you still doing up?” Sam approached Dean where he sat on the back gate of the old truck he’d started working on. “I thought you had to work early tomorrow.”
“I do.”
“So, what’s up?” Sam sat down next to him, their shoulders barely brushing.
Dean shook his head. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
“How’s Cas doing?”
“Sore, but he’ll live. I’m going to have him ward the house tomorrow,” Dean replied. “Bobby said he did a good job today.” Dean glanced over at Sam. “How was work?”
Sam shrugged. “It was fine. Nothing exciting happened.”
“That’s the way you like it, huh?”
“It makes a nice change,” Sam admitted. “But I wouldn’t want it to be like that forever.”
“It won’t.” Dean rubbed a rough patch on the right knee of his jeans, knowing that he’d have a hole there soon. “We’ll get settled in, and then we’ll find a hunt.”
“And leave Cas behind?” Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.
Dean shrugged. “Someone will have to stay with Claire, and it’s not exactly safe to take him along.”
“How long have you felt that way about him?”
“Felt what way?” Dean asked sharply.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dean. The first thing you did after we escaped from Lucifer was to look for Cas.”
“He faced down the archangels for me,” Dean mumbled. “Of course I was going to look for him.”
“And then, when Michael tells you that you could have anything, you ask for Cas,” Sam continued as though Dean hadn’t said anything.
“He’s-”
Sam’s look stopped Dean in mid-explanation. “Come on, Dean. Give me some credit here. I was there when you broke every traffic law to get to him as quickly as possible.”
Dean sighed. “I don’t know exactly how I feel. It’s been-it’s been a long time since…” Since he’d had a chance at more than a one night stand, Dean thought but couldn’t say. Since it had been about more than just sex.
And he’d never felt this way about another man.
Sam braced a hand on Dean’s shoulder and pushed himself off the truck bed. “Good night. Don’t stay up too late.”
Dean followed Sam inside a few minutes later. He doubted he’d be able to sleep, but Sam had been right; he did need to get up early.
Castiel was sleeping on the couch, moving restlessly, his face creased as though in pain. As Dean moved closer, he could hear Cas whimpering and knew from prior experience that the screaming would follow soon after.
Dean squeezed Castiel’s shoulder gently, kneeling down next to the couch. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s Dean. I’m right here.”
Castiel whimpered once more, then settled, his breathing evening out slowly. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and moved his pallet on the floor closer to the couch, just in case Castiel needed him during the night.
~~~~~
Castiel shoveled cereal in his mouth without really tasting it, the sounds of cutlery fading into the background. The kiss weighed on his mind; Castiel wasn’t sure what, if anything, it had changed between him and Dean. Dean treated him as he had since he’d found Castiel lying in the field, newly human-with a kind of rough affection, solicitous, and yet not coddling.
Whether it was his obvious discomfort, or something else, Claire didn’t seem to be ignoring him anymore. She had sat down next to him at the kitchen table without complaint, and she responded to his inquiry on how she slept.
Bobby and Sam were still sleeping, so the three of them were alone together in the kitchen; from what Dean had said, this would likely become their routine, with Dean up early to take Claire to school, and Castiel awake because he wanted to be close to Dean.
“If Cas can get the wards done today, we’ll move into the house this weekend,” Dean said in response to a question from Claire.
“I’ll have my own room, right?” Claire asked. “And I can really paint it?”
Dean nodded. “Anything other than pink. Or purple.”
“You said anything other than pink,” Claire pointed out, with all the ruthlessness of a born haggler.
Dean smirked. “When you’re paying rent, you can paint the house whatever color you want.”
Claire grinned at that, and Castiel wondered if he would ever be able to do that, to set her at ease and make her smile, or if the fact that he wore her father’s face would prevent that.
“What about you?” she asked.
Dean sipped his coffee to buy time. “What about me?”
“Are you doing to have your own room?”
“Cas and I are going to bunk together,” Dean said mildly.
Castiel focused on his own cup of coffee, not wanting to see the expression on Dean’s face, not wanting to know how Dean felt about the arrangements.
“Because there are only three bedrooms?” Her voice was sly, knowing, something that Castiel didn’t understand. What might she know that he didn’t?
“Something like that.” Dean put his mug down on the counter. “Grab your stuff. If we don’t leave now, you’re going to be late for school.”
Claire obeyed, putting her dishes in the sink and running upstairs to get her school things. Castiel wondered at how quickly Dean had adjusted to this role; he seemed born to be a father.
“Dean-”
“Later, Cas.” Dean wouldn’t meet his eyes. “We’ll talk later.”
Castiel didn’t believe him, but he could wait; he had nothing better to do, and he would stay by Dean’s side, even if the kiss meant nothing at all.
~~~~~
Dean hadn’t rented a house in a long time. Dad had on occasion when they were younger, and if it was cheaper than a motel, or he was on a long-term hunt that required him to be in one place for a while.
Hunting with Sam had meant a long string of motel rooms, rarely staying in one place longer than a couple of days, maybe a week at most; the apocalypse had required even more moving around.
So, in a way, it felt good to be able to unpack his bag, to put clothing in drawers and on hangers. What hadn’t been in the house, he, Sam and Cas had found in thrift stores and behind dumpsters, and even though the furniture was stained and threadbare, it was all comfortable.
Dean looked up at the ward Castiel had drawn over their bedroom door in chalk. More complex than those Dean was used to, Castiel had assured him that it would prevent demons from entering; there was one over every opening in the house, including the front entrance.
Cas had spent an entire day perfecting each one while Dean was at work and Claire was at school. Right now, Cas was helping Sam get the kitchen put together-not that they had much, although Dean figured that they probably ought to make more of an effort to cook with Claire around.
Dean finished unpacking, glancing over at the queen sized bed and thinking about Sam’s suggestion that they get an air mattress for one of them. There was just enough space for one, but Dean abruptly realized that he didn’t want to deal with it.
He could hear Claire’s voice in the kitchen as he approached, and Castiel’s answering rumble. Cas’ voice wasn’t quite as deep as it had been when he was still an angel, but it was still powerful, and Dean still found himself aroused.
“Yes, I do, actually.”
Dean had no idea what Castiel meant, having come in on the middle of the conversation, and he paused.
“Do you think God meant for it to happen?”
“I don’t know.” Castiel sounded troubled, uncertain.
Dishes clanked together, and Claire said, “Daddy didn’t want to pray after he came back. I don’t think he believed anymore.”
“He believed. Without a doubt, he believed. But your father was angry, and he had a right to be.” Castiel paused. “You have a right to be.”
“Are you angry?”
Another pause. “Sometimes.”
“I want my dad back.” The raw hurt in Claire’s voice caused Dean to wince, and he wondered how Castiel had gotten her to talk like this. Maybe it was just because Cas and Claire were connected in a weird sort of way. Maybe Claire figured this was as close as she’d get to talking to her dad.
Dean still missed his own father, so he understood that; Castiel probably did too.
“If I could switch places with him, I would. I wish I could bring your father back for you.”
Dean could tell that Cas meant every word, and he was selfishly grateful that it wasn’t possible. Losing Castiel once was enough; Dean didn’t want to lose him again.
Dean made some noise as he walked, wanting to be sure that they heard him coming.
“Where’s Sam?”
“He went to get dinner,” Castiel replied, his voice not betraying the emotion Dean had heard moments before. The sunburn was fading, leaving his skin bronzed underneath the peeling skin. “Sandwiches, I think.”
“Subway,” Claire added. She looked from Dean to Castiel, then announced, “I’m going to watch TV.”
Dean suspected that she was leaving the way clear for them to have a private conversation, and he wondered how Claire felt about the possibility of the two of them together.
“Did you already bring your stuff in?” Dean asked.
Castiel shrugged, a human gesture he’d apparently picked up. “I thought I’d let you unpack first. I don’t have much.”
“Yeah.” Dean took a step closer to him. “Cas, about the other night…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Castiel said hurriedly. “I understand if you’re not interested. I’m not-”
Dean couldn’t resist; he kissed Castiel, swallowing the words before Cas could say anything more. He had to admit that as strange as it was, Castiel felt pretty damn good snugged up against him, Cas’ hands resting on his chest.
The small, helpless sounds that Castiel was making caused Dean to deepen the kiss, his hands tugging Castiel’s hips even closer to his own.
“What were you saying?” Dean asked when he finally broke off.
Castiel seemed to find Dean’s neck fascinating. “Nothing. There is nothing.”
Dean sensed Cas’ need for reassurance, remembering his words to Claire, that he would switch places with Jimmy Novak. “Hey, we’re in this for the long haul, right?”
Castiel looked up at that, blue eyes wide and searching. He swallowed. “Yes. We’re in this for the long haul.”
Dean nodded, satisfied. “Good. Then, uh, if you don’t mind, I’ll tell Sam to forget about getting the air mattress. I think the bed is big enough for two of us.”
Castiel’s cheeks flushed, and he glanced away. This time, Dean thought, it had more to do with shyness than anything else. “I believe it is.”
“Good. Great.” Dean might have leaned in for another kiss, but he heard the front door open and Sam’s voice calling out that dinner had arrived.
Dean released Castiel reluctantly and hoped he’d said the right thing.
Chapter 6
Castiel’s arms, face, and the back of his neck felt like they were on fire. When Dean had woken him from his nap, Castiel had received a lecture on how he could get sunburned if his skin was exposed to the sun for a long time, especially if he didn’t already have a tan. Then he’d been recruited to help with dinner, which consisted of burgers and chips.
Castiel helped willingly, trying not to let on how uncomfortable he was all through dinner. Claire remained largely silent, responding with questions about her day with short sentences that didn’t give much real information. That left Dean, Sam, and Bobby to carry the conversation, which made for a very awkward dinner.
“I cleared out the other room upstairs,” Bobby announced as Castiel helped Sam clear the table. “If one of you boys wants to take it.”
“Sam can have it,” Dean said. “Cas and I are okay down here. I have to get up early anyway.”
Surprise flitted across Sam’s face, but he shrugged. “Thanks, Dean. I have to get to work.”
“I can help with the dishes,” Claire offered.
Bobby smiled at her. “Thanks. I’ll give you a hand while Dean takes care of Castiel.”
Bobby’s pointed look caused Castiel to stare fixedly at the wood grain of the table, feeling the heat in his face.
“I get sunburned, too, when I’m outside for too long.”
Claire’s quiet words caused Castiel to glance up to meet her eyes. Castiel knew her, of course, probably better than either of her parents had in a way, and yet there was a disconnect between them.
“Come on, Cas,” Dean said softly. “We’ll get you taken care of.”
Castiel waited until they were in the upstairs bathroom to speak. “Dean, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For this.” He stared down at the bright red skin on his forearms. “I don’t know enough about being human. Even a child can take care of herself better than I-”
Dean seized his shoulders, cutting him off. “Claire’s had twelve years to learn how to be human, Cas. She had a mother and a father to help; you’ve got me.”
“You are more than enough, Dean.” Castiel looked earnestly into Dean’s eyes, willing him to believe it. “You are-” He stopped and changed tactics. “I disobeyed for you, and I would do it again.”
Dean’s expression didn’t change; he stared into Castiel’s eyes as though searching for something. Dean put a finger under Castiel’s chin, one of the few places on his face that wasn’t on fire, and tipped his head up before pressing his lips to Castiel’s.
For a moment, Castiel didn’t respond, not knowing what to do. Dean’s kiss was gentle but insistent, and Castiel began to echo his movements, opening his mouth when Dean’s tongue pressed against his lips.
Dean’s hands latched onto Castiel’s hips, and Castiel found his own hands fluttering uncertainly before landing on Dean’s upper arms, gripping the hard muscle of Dean’s biceps.
Castiel didn’t know who pulled back first, but Dean was the one to take a step back, his hands falling away.
“Go ahead and get cleaned up,” Dean said softly. “Better keep the water cool, though. It’ll feel better against that burn. When you’re out, I’ll put something on it.”
“Dean-”
“Get cleaned up,” Dean repeated. “I’ll be downstairs.”
Castiel sighed, uncertain of what the kiss had meant. He knew that Dean often was physical with those for whom he cared nothing, but he hoped that wasn’t the case this time.
Still, the kiss had been comforting, even invigorating, and Castiel thought he could add kissing Dean to the list of things that were good about being human.
~~~~~
Dean watched as Sam pulled into the salvage yard in the Impala from his spot on the bed of an ancient truck. His mind was still whirling with thoughts of Castiel and their kiss, and he’d been unable to settle for long.
“What are you still doing up?” Sam approached Dean where he sat on the back gate of the old truck he’d started working on. “I thought you had to work early tomorrow.”
“I do.”
“So, what’s up?” Sam sat down next to him, their shoulders barely brushing.
Dean shook his head. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
“How’s Cas doing?”
“Sore, but he’ll live. I’m going to have him ward the house tomorrow,” Dean replied. “Bobby said he did a good job today.” Dean glanced over at Sam. “How was work?”
Sam shrugged. “It was fine. Nothing exciting happened.”
“That’s the way you like it, huh?”
“It makes a nice change,” Sam admitted. “But I wouldn’t want it to be like that forever.”
“It won’t.” Dean rubbed a rough patch on the right knee of his jeans, knowing that he’d have a hole there soon. “We’ll get settled in, and then we’ll find a hunt.”
“And leave Cas behind?” Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.
Dean shrugged. “Someone will have to stay with Claire, and it’s not exactly safe to take him along.”
“How long have you felt that way about him?”
“Felt what way?” Dean asked sharply.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dean. The first thing you did after we escaped from Lucifer was to look for Cas.”
“He faced down the archangels for me,” Dean mumbled. “Of course I was going to look for him.”
“And then, when Michael tells you that you could have anything, you ask for Cas,” Sam continued as though Dean hadn’t said anything.
“He’s-”
Sam’s look stopped Dean in mid-explanation. “Come on, Dean. Give me some credit here. I was there when you broke every traffic law to get to him as quickly as possible.”
Dean sighed. “I don’t know exactly how I feel. It’s been-it’s been a long time since…” Since he’d had a chance at more than a one night stand, Dean thought but couldn’t say. Since it had been about more than just sex.
And he’d never felt this way about another man.
Sam braced a hand on Dean’s shoulder and pushed himself off the truck bed. “Good night. Don’t stay up too late.”
Dean followed Sam inside a few minutes later. He doubted he’d be able to sleep, but Sam had been right; he did need to get up early.
Castiel was sleeping on the couch, moving restlessly, his face creased as though in pain. As Dean moved closer, he could hear Cas whimpering and knew from prior experience that the screaming would follow soon after.
Dean squeezed Castiel’s shoulder gently, kneeling down next to the couch. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s Dean. I’m right here.”
Castiel whimpered once more, then settled, his breathing evening out slowly. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and moved his pallet on the floor closer to the couch, just in case Castiel needed him during the night.
~~~~~
Castiel shoveled cereal in his mouth without really tasting it, the sounds of cutlery fading into the background. The kiss weighed on his mind; Castiel wasn’t sure what, if anything, it had changed between him and Dean. Dean treated him as he had since he’d found Castiel lying in the field, newly human-with a kind of rough affection, solicitous, and yet not coddling.
Whether it was his obvious discomfort, or something else, Claire didn’t seem to be ignoring him anymore. She had sat down next to him at the kitchen table without complaint, and she responded to his inquiry on how she slept.
Bobby and Sam were still sleeping, so the three of them were alone together in the kitchen; from what Dean had said, this would likely become their routine, with Dean up early to take Claire to school, and Castiel awake because he wanted to be close to Dean.
“If Cas can get the wards done today, we’ll move into the house this weekend,” Dean said in response to a question from Claire.
“I’ll have my own room, right?” Claire asked. “And I can really paint it?”
Dean nodded. “Anything other than pink. Or purple.”
“You said anything other than pink,” Claire pointed out, with all the ruthlessness of a born haggler.
Dean smirked. “When you’re paying rent, you can paint the house whatever color you want.”
Claire grinned at that, and Castiel wondered if he would ever be able to do that, to set her at ease and make her smile, or if the fact that he wore her father’s face would prevent that.
“What about you?” she asked.
Dean sipped his coffee to buy time. “What about me?”
“Are you doing to have your own room?”
“Cas and I are going to bunk together,” Dean said mildly.
Castiel focused on his own cup of coffee, not wanting to see the expression on Dean’s face, not wanting to know how Dean felt about the arrangements.
“Because there are only three bedrooms?” Her voice was sly, knowing, something that Castiel didn’t understand. What might she know that he didn’t?
“Something like that.” Dean put his mug down on the counter. “Grab your stuff. If we don’t leave now, you’re going to be late for school.”
Claire obeyed, putting her dishes in the sink and running upstairs to get her school things. Castiel wondered at how quickly Dean had adjusted to this role; he seemed born to be a father.
“Dean-”
“Later, Cas.” Dean wouldn’t meet his eyes. “We’ll talk later.”
Castiel didn’t believe him, but he could wait; he had nothing better to do, and he would stay by Dean’s side, even if the kiss meant nothing at all.
~~~~~
Dean hadn’t rented a house in a long time. Dad had on occasion when they were younger, and if it was cheaper than a motel, or he was on a long-term hunt that required him to be in one place for a while.
Hunting with Sam had meant a long string of motel rooms, rarely staying in one place longer than a couple of days, maybe a week at most; the apocalypse had required even more moving around.
So, in a way, it felt good to be able to unpack his bag, to put clothing in drawers and on hangers. What hadn’t been in the house, he, Sam and Cas had found in thrift stores and behind dumpsters, and even though the furniture was stained and threadbare, it was all comfortable.
Dean looked up at the ward Castiel had drawn over their bedroom door in chalk. More complex than those Dean was used to, Castiel had assured him that it would prevent demons from entering; there was one over every opening in the house, including the front entrance.
Cas had spent an entire day perfecting each one while Dean was at work and Claire was at school. Right now, Cas was helping Sam get the kitchen put together-not that they had much, although Dean figured that they probably ought to make more of an effort to cook with Claire around.
Dean finished unpacking, glancing over at the queen sized bed and thinking about Sam’s suggestion that they get an air mattress for one of them. There was just enough space for one, but Dean abruptly realized that he didn’t want to deal with it.
He could hear Claire’s voice in the kitchen as he approached, and Castiel’s answering rumble. Cas’ voice wasn’t quite as deep as it had been when he was still an angel, but it was still powerful, and Dean still found himself aroused.
“Yes, I do, actually.”
Dean had no idea what Castiel meant, having come in on the middle of the conversation, and he paused.
“Do you think God meant for it to happen?”
“I don’t know.” Castiel sounded troubled, uncertain.
Dishes clanked together, and Claire said, “Daddy didn’t want to pray after he came back. I don’t think he believed anymore.”
“He believed. Without a doubt, he believed. But your father was angry, and he had a right to be.” Castiel paused. “You have a right to be.”
“Are you angry?”
Another pause. “Sometimes.”
“I want my dad back.” The raw hurt in Claire’s voice caused Dean to wince, and he wondered how Castiel had gotten her to talk like this. Maybe it was just because Cas and Claire were connected in a weird sort of way. Maybe Claire figured this was as close as she’d get to talking to her dad.
Dean still missed his own father, so he understood that; Castiel probably did too.
“If I could switch places with him, I would. I wish I could bring your father back for you.”
Dean could tell that Cas meant every word, and he was selfishly grateful that it wasn’t possible. Losing Castiel once was enough; Dean didn’t want to lose him again.
Dean made some noise as he walked, wanting to be sure that they heard him coming.
“Where’s Sam?”
“He went to get dinner,” Castiel replied, his voice not betraying the emotion Dean had heard moments before. The sunburn was fading, leaving his skin bronzed underneath the peeling skin. “Sandwiches, I think.”
“Subway,” Claire added. She looked from Dean to Castiel, then announced, “I’m going to watch TV.”
Dean suspected that she was leaving the way clear for them to have a private conversation, and he wondered how Claire felt about the possibility of the two of them together.
“Did you already bring your stuff in?” Dean asked.
Castiel shrugged, a human gesture he’d apparently picked up. “I thought I’d let you unpack first. I don’t have much.”
“Yeah.” Dean took a step closer to him. “Cas, about the other night…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Castiel said hurriedly. “I understand if you’re not interested. I’m not-”
Dean couldn’t resist; he kissed Castiel, swallowing the words before Cas could say anything more. He had to admit that as strange as it was, Castiel felt pretty damn good snugged up against him, Cas’ hands resting on his chest.
The small, helpless sounds that Castiel was making caused Dean to deepen the kiss, his hands tugging Castiel’s hips even closer to his own.
“What were you saying?” Dean asked when he finally broke off.
Castiel seemed to find Dean’s neck fascinating. “Nothing. There is nothing.”
Dean sensed Cas’ need for reassurance, remembering his words to Claire, that he would switch places with Jimmy Novak. “Hey, we’re in this for the long haul, right?”
Castiel looked up at that, blue eyes wide and searching. He swallowed. “Yes. We’re in this for the long haul.”
Dean nodded, satisfied. “Good. Then, uh, if you don’t mind, I’ll tell Sam to forget about getting the air mattress. I think the bed is big enough for two of us.”
Castiel’s cheeks flushed, and he glanced away. This time, Dean thought, it had more to do with shyness than anything else. “I believe it is.”
“Good. Great.” Dean might have leaned in for another kiss, but he heard the front door open and Sam’s voice calling out that dinner had arrived.
Dean released Castiel reluctantly and hoped he’d said the right thing.