The Dead Bodies Mean "I Love You" Part XII
Masterpost | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI
Dean wakes up on Sunday. He doesn’t wake up from sleep so much as he tears himself out of the black hole in his chest. He bursts into the light and is reeling from the change. Sam is still there, deep in his soul, a painful nub that will never go away, but it is bearable. He’s cried and sobbed and fought.
He understands what Sam was asking for. Sam didn’t just want Dean to keep Cas in line. He wanted Dean to be happy again. And maybe, for the first time, he’s happy with someone who isn’t his brother. Maybe this is his shot at something new.
Dean might not believe in heaven or God, but he believes in spirits and ghosts. He sends up a prayer of thanks, hoping that wherever Sammy is, he can hear it.
Hopes that Sam is happy with the way things went down even if Dean isn’t. He may never forgive himself for getting his brother killed, but he’s come to terms with it. Accepted it and found a smidgen of solace in another human being for the first time in ages.
It’s liberating.
Castiel walks into the room and Dean smiles.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas says softly, gently. As if he’s afraid Dean will run away.
What has Dean been doing to make Cas afraid he’ll disappear? He doesn’t even remember what’s been going on for the past... however long he’s been out. Whatever has been going on he doesn’t really care. He’s got a gorgeous man looking at him like he’s made of glass.
With Sam given a permanent shrine in his mind, Dean looks at the matter at hand, which is a dark haired blue eyed gorgeous man.
“Mornin’ beautiful,” Dean smiles.
Castiel’s eyes widen minutely, his mouth dropping open. He takes three hasty steps forward and puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders, cheeks flushed.
“You’re back,” he whispers.
“I’m back.”
Castiel leans down and kisses him.
---
The first thing Dean does is steal Castiel’s keys, ties him up and drives far away. Across three state borders until they’re in the middle of North Dakota where there’s only empty plains for miles and miles and miles. No people to murder for miles. No one to bother them.
He scoops Castiel out of the Impala, bridal style, and drops him on the thick grass covered in snow. The air is frigid and Dean watches as Cas shivers, the snow around him melting ever so slightly. Castiel pulls his hands against the rope and smiles a bit.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“A present,” Dean replies, lying next to Cas. “For, I don’t know. Being you or something.”
“Isn’t the present usually the thing that is tied up?” Castiel quirks an eyebrow, “Not the receiver?”
Dean laughs and unties the blindfold and ropes around Castiel. Cas opens his eyes and Dean thinks in any other circumstance they would be reflecting the sky but he has eyes the same color as the sky so it’s really moot. Especially with his cheeks turning pink against the cold.
“I love your eyes,” Dean says softly, tracing a hand over Cas’s cheekbones.
Castiel turns to look at him.
“I love your lips,” Castiel says. “Such a beautiful mouth.”
Dean chuckles. His thumb brushes over Castiel’s stubble and he sighs, content. He almost forgot what it was like to be happy, to be at peace. More than that, he has forgotten what it’s like to look at something beautiful and appreciate the beauty of it.
Something that isn’t related to torture or blood or weapons at least. He’s always been able to appreciate the beauty of blood on white skin. The beauty of a silver knife in moonlight. That delicious sound of someone being torn apart from the inside out.
This is a different kind of beauty though. This is Castiel and his sky blue eyes and plush mouth and strong nose and sure jaw line. The man with dark hair (brown, not black like he’d originally assumed) that is perfectly messy in a gravity-defying kind of way.
He’s beautiful.
Dean’s never felt that way about another human being, much less about another man. He thinks he’d be more upset if Cas wasn’t his goddamn soul mate or something.
His hand stills on Cas’s face. Soul mate. That’s a little... big. And sudden. Very sudden and very very big. Dean doesn’t do commitment. Non-familial commitment at least. There was a reason he and Lisa didn’t work out because she had a kid and wanted him to be the dad and stay and be all committed and stuff.
He couldn’t do that. Not with Sam to look after.
Castiel rubs his thumb across Dean’s lower lip, bringing Dean back to the empty fields of North Dakota. He blinks and smiles.
“What were you thinking about?” Castiel asks.
“Sam,” Dean doesn’t bother lying. It won’t do him any good.
“You think about him a lot,” Cas says. “Does it hurt?”
“Not as much,” Dean shrugs. “Being with you kind of helps. I guess.”
“It helps you feel human, doesn’t it?” Cas says. “Being with someone. It makes you feel like you’re not alone. Like you’ve got someone to fall back on when things go to shit.”
“Yeah,” Dean props himself on his elbow so he can properly look Castiel in the face. “Like I have someone to scheme with. Someone who is just as broken and twisted as me.”
“Someone who gives as good as he gets,” Castiel traces his hands up Dean’s arms, blinking slowly.
“Someone who fits against a crack I didn’t know was there,” Dean throws a leg over Cas so he’s straddling the other man.
“Someone who belongs like a thorn you never want taken out,” Castiel’s hands are at Dean’s neck now, pulling him down slowly.
“Someone I want,” Dean lowers himself until he can feel Castiel’s breath on his lips. “Who wants me. Who makes me better in every way.”
“Someone your brother wants you to be with,” Castiel whispers. “Someone Sam Winchester approves of.”
And then they’re kissing, mouths hot and greedy. Cas is right. Sammy approved of Cas and that is more than enough for Dean to want to make this work.
The grass is itchy and Dean’s pants get stuck around his ankles. Snow gets into the most inconvenient places and he bites Castiel’s neck when he drops some down his shirt. It’s almost uncomfortable but Cas is gasping and tugging like he can’t get enough of Dean. Maybe he can’t. God knows Dean can’t get enough of Cas. He might never get enough of Cas.
The sun goes down and the night brings a bitter chill and a hint of clouds. Dean considers not moving and just building an igloo and staying here forever but at the same time he’s getting frostbite on his ass and that just will not do.
He and Cas move back to the Impala and Dean again considers just hunkering down in the car for a night. Again, that little voice of logic (which sounds suspiciously like Sam) tells him to just find an empty house or a motel or something that has heating because it’s November in North Dakota and how pathetic would it be for the top serial killers to be found frozen to death?
So Dean starts up the car, shivering at the growl of her engine, and pulls away from the field. Castiel reaches over and laces their fingers together before setting his head on Dean’s shoulder and falling asleep.
---
Castiel wakes up curled around Dean in a nondescript motel room. He’s warm and content and peaceful. He doesn’t want to move. He could stay here forever.
“This might be too soon,” Dean mumbles. “But I love you.”
Castiel heats up under Dean’s arm and snuggles in closer. “I love you too.”
Dean presses a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head, taking a deep breath as he does so. Goosebumps run down Castiel’s spine.
Yes. He can admit that to himself freely now. He loves Dean Winchester. He loves this man beneath him. He loves the heartbeat under his fingers. The boner that’s pressed up against his leg. The soft stubble that scrubs against his forehead. The way Dean says his name or gasps with pleasure when Cas bites him.
He laughs to himself a little bit. He can’t believe it was mere days ago when he believed that there was no love between him and Dean.
Despite their flaws they are still, innately, human beings. They still need human touch and human connection. They still need each other. Maybe they’ve always needed each other. Maybe they always will.
Part XIII
Dean wakes up on Sunday. He doesn’t wake up from sleep so much as he tears himself out of the black hole in his chest. He bursts into the light and is reeling from the change. Sam is still there, deep in his soul, a painful nub that will never go away, but it is bearable. He’s cried and sobbed and fought.
He understands what Sam was asking for. Sam didn’t just want Dean to keep Cas in line. He wanted Dean to be happy again. And maybe, for the first time, he’s happy with someone who isn’t his brother. Maybe this is his shot at something new.
Dean might not believe in heaven or God, but he believes in spirits and ghosts. He sends up a prayer of thanks, hoping that wherever Sammy is, he can hear it.
Hopes that Sam is happy with the way things went down even if Dean isn’t. He may never forgive himself for getting his brother killed, but he’s come to terms with it. Accepted it and found a smidgen of solace in another human being for the first time in ages.
It’s liberating.
Castiel walks into the room and Dean smiles.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas says softly, gently. As if he’s afraid Dean will run away.
What has Dean been doing to make Cas afraid he’ll disappear? He doesn’t even remember what’s been going on for the past... however long he’s been out. Whatever has been going on he doesn’t really care. He’s got a gorgeous man looking at him like he’s made of glass.
With Sam given a permanent shrine in his mind, Dean looks at the matter at hand, which is a dark haired blue eyed gorgeous man.
“Mornin’ beautiful,” Dean smiles.
Castiel’s eyes widen minutely, his mouth dropping open. He takes three hasty steps forward and puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders, cheeks flushed.
“You’re back,” he whispers.
“I’m back.”
Castiel leans down and kisses him.
---
The first thing Dean does is steal Castiel’s keys, ties him up and drives far away. Across three state borders until they’re in the middle of North Dakota where there’s only empty plains for miles and miles and miles. No people to murder for miles. No one to bother them.
He scoops Castiel out of the Impala, bridal style, and drops him on the thick grass covered in snow. The air is frigid and Dean watches as Cas shivers, the snow around him melting ever so slightly. Castiel pulls his hands against the rope and smiles a bit.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“A present,” Dean replies, lying next to Cas. “For, I don’t know. Being you or something.”
“Isn’t the present usually the thing that is tied up?” Castiel quirks an eyebrow, “Not the receiver?”
Dean laughs and unties the blindfold and ropes around Castiel. Cas opens his eyes and Dean thinks in any other circumstance they would be reflecting the sky but he has eyes the same color as the sky so it’s really moot. Especially with his cheeks turning pink against the cold.
“I love your eyes,” Dean says softly, tracing a hand over Cas’s cheekbones.
Castiel turns to look at him.
“I love your lips,” Castiel says. “Such a beautiful mouth.”
Dean chuckles. His thumb brushes over Castiel’s stubble and he sighs, content. He almost forgot what it was like to be happy, to be at peace. More than that, he has forgotten what it’s like to look at something beautiful and appreciate the beauty of it.
Something that isn’t related to torture or blood or weapons at least. He’s always been able to appreciate the beauty of blood on white skin. The beauty of a silver knife in moonlight. That delicious sound of someone being torn apart from the inside out.
This is a different kind of beauty though. This is Castiel and his sky blue eyes and plush mouth and strong nose and sure jaw line. The man with dark hair (brown, not black like he’d originally assumed) that is perfectly messy in a gravity-defying kind of way.
He’s beautiful.
Dean’s never felt that way about another human being, much less about another man. He thinks he’d be more upset if Cas wasn’t his goddamn soul mate or something.
His hand stills on Cas’s face. Soul mate. That’s a little... big. And sudden. Very sudden and very very big. Dean doesn’t do commitment. Non-familial commitment at least. There was a reason he and Lisa didn’t work out because she had a kid and wanted him to be the dad and stay and be all committed and stuff.
He couldn’t do that. Not with Sam to look after.
Castiel rubs his thumb across Dean’s lower lip, bringing Dean back to the empty fields of North Dakota. He blinks and smiles.
“What were you thinking about?” Castiel asks.
“Sam,” Dean doesn’t bother lying. It won’t do him any good.
“You think about him a lot,” Cas says. “Does it hurt?”
“Not as much,” Dean shrugs. “Being with you kind of helps. I guess.”
“It helps you feel human, doesn’t it?” Cas says. “Being with someone. It makes you feel like you’re not alone. Like you’ve got someone to fall back on when things go to shit.”
“Yeah,” Dean props himself on his elbow so he can properly look Castiel in the face. “Like I have someone to scheme with. Someone who is just as broken and twisted as me.”
“Someone who gives as good as he gets,” Castiel traces his hands up Dean’s arms, blinking slowly.
“Someone who fits against a crack I didn’t know was there,” Dean throws a leg over Cas so he’s straddling the other man.
“Someone who belongs like a thorn you never want taken out,” Castiel’s hands are at Dean’s neck now, pulling him down slowly.
“Someone I want,” Dean lowers himself until he can feel Castiel’s breath on his lips. “Who wants me. Who makes me better in every way.”
“Someone your brother wants you to be with,” Castiel whispers. “Someone Sam Winchester approves of.”
And then they’re kissing, mouths hot and greedy. Cas is right. Sammy approved of Cas and that is more than enough for Dean to want to make this work.
The grass is itchy and Dean’s pants get stuck around his ankles. Snow gets into the most inconvenient places and he bites Castiel’s neck when he drops some down his shirt. It’s almost uncomfortable but Cas is gasping and tugging like he can’t get enough of Dean. Maybe he can’t. God knows Dean can’t get enough of Cas. He might never get enough of Cas.
The sun goes down and the night brings a bitter chill and a hint of clouds. Dean considers not moving and just building an igloo and staying here forever but at the same time he’s getting frostbite on his ass and that just will not do.
He and Cas move back to the Impala and Dean again considers just hunkering down in the car for a night. Again, that little voice of logic (which sounds suspiciously like Sam) tells him to just find an empty house or a motel or something that has heating because it’s November in North Dakota and how pathetic would it be for the top serial killers to be found frozen to death?
So Dean starts up the car, shivering at the growl of her engine, and pulls away from the field. Castiel reaches over and laces their fingers together before setting his head on Dean’s shoulder and falling asleep.
---
Castiel wakes up curled around Dean in a nondescript motel room. He’s warm and content and peaceful. He doesn’t want to move. He could stay here forever.
“This might be too soon,” Dean mumbles. “But I love you.”
Castiel heats up under Dean’s arm and snuggles in closer. “I love you too.”
Dean presses a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head, taking a deep breath as he does so. Goosebumps run down Castiel’s spine.
Yes. He can admit that to himself freely now. He loves Dean Winchester. He loves this man beneath him. He loves the heartbeat under his fingers. The boner that’s pressed up against his leg. The soft stubble that scrubs against his forehead. The way Dean says his name or gasps with pleasure when Cas bites him.
He laughs to himself a little bit. He can’t believe it was mere days ago when he believed that there was no love between him and Dean.
Despite their flaws they are still, innately, human beings. They still need human touch and human connection. They still need each other. Maybe they’ve always needed each other. Maybe they always will.
Part XIII