we are all gay here

No.

I can never tell if anything will actually happen.

When Dean pulls his baby to a stop, the dust billows out from behind her. Twilight has fallen over this particular slice of Heaven and the reflection of the moon ripples across the surface of the water. He’s not sure how long he’s been driving (Bobby was right when he said that time was different here) but…he figures it’s been long enough.

He steps out of the Impala, letting Miracle jump out behind him with a happy yelp. She tears off toward the railing of the bridge and then sits, panting with her ears crooked. “What out there, girl?” Dean asks, not really asking - it’s just become a thing that he says to Miracle when she shows interest in something.

He stretches and revels in the way his back and knees don’t pop or ache in the slightest. He lets out a breath and when he inhales, he smells it. It tips his head down and brings a smile to his face. There’s dust on his boots and he swirls up more as he kicks over to open the trunk.

When he pulls his head out, crumpled to hell trench coat in his hands, he finds that he’s not alone. He’ll be along, Bobby had said, knowing smile. Sam would come too, down the road, but right now - 

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean meets his eyes, his finger-in-a-socket hair, his perma-stubble and oh. “Let’s get two things out of the way,” Dean says firmly, walking toward the angel.

Castiel tilts his head in that deliberate act of confusion, but his eyes are sparkling. He’s long learned how to tell when Dean is joking. “Yes?”

“First, I hate that trench coat,” he says, pointing to the one Cas wears. “This is the right one.” He shoves over the ball of canvas in his hands and Cas doesn’t hesitate. He sheds his coat and takes the one from Dean - thinner and longer, belt floppy. It’s a trench coat that, years ago, Jimmy Novak pulled on in the middle of the night to leave his family, not sure what he was doing or where he might be going. 

“And second?” Cas asks. 

They’re close, now. Close enough that Dean can fuss with the lapels of the coat, straightening them and shaking the collar out. And then, his hand rests, big and warm, right over Cas’s heart. “Second is I love you too, you stupid son of a bitch.”

Before Cas can finish saying, “Dean I don’t think you should swear in Heaven,” Dean is kissing him. It’s awful - they’re both laughing into it and trying to hold each other the same way at the same time. It’s awful and a mess and they keep kissing until it’s not. Until it’s perfect. Until they’re perfectly slotted together.

They pull apart at Miracle’s bark, both of them looking over. In the time since Dean pulled over, it’s come on dawn and the sun is rising over the lake’s horizon. The dog is standing beside the Impala, tail wagging and ears cocked expectantly.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says, turning to rest his forehead against the angel’s, “wanna go for a drive?” 

-

When Dean pulls his baby to a stop, the dust billows out from behind her. Twilight has fallen over this particular slice of Heaven and the reflection of the moon ripples across the surface of the water. He’s not sure how long he’s been driving (Bobby was right when he said that time was different here) but…he figures it’s been long enough.

He steps out of the Impala, letting Miracle jump out behind him with a happy yelp. She tears off toward the railing of the bridge and then sits, panting with her ears crooked. “What out there, girl?” Dean asks, not really asking - it’s just become a thing that he says to Miracle when she shows interest in something.

He stretches and revels in the way his back and knees don’t pop or ache in the slightest. He lets out a breath and when he inhales, he smells it. It tips his head down and brings a smile to his face. There’s dust on his boots and he swirls up more as he kicks over to open the trunk.

When he pulls his head out, crumpled to hell trench coat in his hands, he finds that he’s not alone. He’ll be along, Bobby had said, knowing smile. Sam would come too, down the road, but right now - 

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean meets his eyes, his finger-in-a-socket hair, his perma-stubble and oh. “Let’s get two things out of the way,” Dean says firmly, walking toward the angel.

Castiel tilts his head in that deliberate act of confusion, but his eyes are sparkling. He’s long learned how to tell when Dean is joking. “Yes?”

“First, I hate that trench coat,” he says, pointing to the one Cas wears. “This is the right one.” He shoves over the ball of canvas in his hands and Cas doesn’t hesitate. He sheds his coat and takes the one from Dean - thinner and longer, belt floppy. It’s a trench coat that, years ago, Jimmy Novak pulled on in the middle of the night to leave his family, not sure what he was doing or where he might be going. 

“And second?” Cas asks. 

They’re close, now. Close enough that Dean can fuss with the lapels of the coat, straightening them and shaking the collar out. And then, his hand rests, big and warm, right over Cas’s heart. “Second is I love you too, you stupid son of a bitch.”

Before Cas can finish saying, “Dean I don’t think you should swear in Heaven,” Dean is kissing him. It’s awful - they’re both laughing into it and trying to hold each other the same way at the same time. It’s awful and a mess and they keep kissing until it’s not. Until it’s perfect. Until they’re perfectly slotted together.

They pull apart at Miracle’s bark, both of them looking over. In the time since Dean pulled over, it’s come on dawn and the sun is rising over the lake’s horizon. The dog is standing beside the Impala, tail wagging and ears cocked expectantly.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says, turning to rest his forehead against the angel’s, “wanna go for a drive?” 

-

Castiel comes to him when it’s over and not before.

After the blood and the drive and the rushing of the water under the bridge, that’s when Castiel comes to him. 

Before that, he waits. He holds steady. He goes to Earth - does the little things that are missing now that Dean isn’t there. Castiel hunts now and again. Like he always has done, Castiel helps.

And when it’s over, and not before, Castiel comes to Dean.

“So,” Dean says. “Took you a while.”

“I wanted to wait,” Castiel says.

“Right. I, uh. I missed you.”

Castiel says nothing. He isn’t sure how, or exactly why, he was missed. The peace inside him, the happiness, that’s been easy and calm since he last spoke to Dean - it’s stirring and humming inside him. Something about the look on Dean’s face is confusing. He doesn’t look stoic or conflicted, but he doesn’t look happy, either. He looks - it takes Castiel a moment to place it. 

Dean looks hopeful.

What could Dean be hoping for in Heaven? He has everything he could wish for. Everything he could dream.

“Cas,” Dean says, and then repeats, “I missed you.”

“I…” Castiel swallows. “I missed you, too.”

Dean’s eyes are searching Castiel’s. They’re standing in Heaven and somehow it’s suddenly not enough for either of them, not even with the walls all fallen. They’re looking at each other and Castiel wishes, wants, desperately hopes, and it seems - it seems almost within reach, and yet impossible, and -

“Cas,” Dean tries again. “Cas, what you said. Before. That…” He looks away, down at the ground, and then he breathes out a little hard, and says, “Look, would you just get over here.”

There’s a little space between them. Castiel crosses it in three steps.

“Better,” Dean says. And then he reaches out and, clumsy, he takes Castiel’s hand. 

Castiel holds it.

destiel canon apparently but more pressing issue: