Despite the wings and the grace and the almost-invincibility, Dean is endearingly, infuriatingly human. Even at that first moment, with Casās knife sticking out of his chest, Dean grinned like he was greeting an old friend and said, āHeya, Cas.ā They were both lostāor foundāafter that.
It didnāt take long for Dean to fall in love with food and movies and sleep and then, after a particularly bloody hunt, sex. He healed each of Casās injuries with a kiss and then exploded every lightbulb in the shitty motel room with a violent flap of wings when he came for the first time.
Cas worries. He stays awake while Dean sleeps, sitting between the door and his angel as if Dean needs his protection. He wonders if Dean dreams, what he dreams about, but never asks. He encourages Dean to eat a vegetable every now and then, because heās not sure if Deanās vessel can wither away from malnutrition. He puts up with cheesy cowboy movies just to see Dean smile.
When it comes down to it, itās the fucking that worries Cas most. Dean is so tender, so sweet in his touches, the flutter of his eyelashes so vulnerable. Cas drinks him up with a quenchless, reverent thirst, but not everyone will. Some people will see that shy smile and take pleasure in ripping it to shreds.
Both of them are still sticky with sweat but hazy enough in pleasure not to care. Dean tucks himself against Casās side, fitting into his arms like he doesnāt belong anywhere else. Cas squeezes him close and listens as Deanās breath starts to slow down and even out, the arm thrown across Casās belly going lax.
With Dean warm and heavy in his arms, Cas drifts into a fantasy of a future heāll never see. Hunting is a til-death-do-us-part job, and duties to heaven last for infinity, but what ifāa little house in the country, drinking coffee at sunrise, making love all day if they want, no worries about vampires or skinwalkers or fucking dragons, maybe they get a dog and name it Indiana Jones.
Cas smiles a little. Runs his fingers through Deanās hair, soothing himself with the feel of silken strands against his palm. With Dean sleeping, Cas is brave enough to kiss his forehead, gently. Adoring touches are part of the fantasy.
Dean stirs and murmurs, āWhat was that for?ā
Stupidly, Casās heart pounds. Heās put his mouth on nearly every inch of Deanās skin, so it seems absurd to react to a forehead kiss with a racing pulse, but he thought Dean was sleeping. He thought his affection was private, locked away in a nesting doll of compartmentalization. He thought he could take anything Dean offers without revealing the truth.
āI wanted to,ā Cas says.
Dean sits up on an elbow, staring down at Cas. Cas wonders what he seesāhis charred soul? His longing? Nothing at all?
āI want to do something too,ā Dean says.
āWhat would that be?ā
After the briefest of hesitations, Dean cups Casās jaw in his hand and kisses him.
This isnāt some Pretty Woman arrangement where they donāt kiss. They kiss, hard and deep and frantic and needing, all the time when theyāre fucking, but they donāt kiss like this. They donāt kiss when the sex is over and itās time to start thinking about the next hunt. They donāt kiss just for the intimacy of mouths touching and tongues brushing together.
At least, they didnāt used to kiss like that. Now they do, and Cas slides his hand around to the back of Deanās neck to pull him even closer. The longer the kiss lingers, the more Cas thinks Dean must be able to see how golden and glowing he feels.
Dean stares at Cas again when the kiss breaks, like heās searching for something in the planes of Casās cheekbones or the circles under his eyes. āWas that ok?ā
āYes,ā Cas says. He could say more, something about how kisses like that will string his heart on the rack and shatter it, but decides heāll take his chances.
āI want to do it again,ā Dean says. āI donāt mean right nowāI mean, yes, right now, but other times, too.ā
āWhat do you mean?ā Cas asks. Thereās a glimmer of hope in his chest, something he hasnāt felt since he was too young to know better.
āI think Iām about to make an ass of myself,ā Dean says, ābut I have to say it, ok? Because I donāt want to wait until itās too late.ā
āJust say it, Dean,ā Cas says.
Casās heart stops, then gallops to catch up.
āIāve tried to say it before,ā Dean says. āGuess Iām a coward.ā
āYouāre ridiculous. Youāre the bravest person I know.ā Cas takes a careful breath, squeezes Deanās shoulder. āYou must know that I feel the same.ā
Deanās eyes widen a bit. āAre you fucking with me?ā
āOf course not.ā Another careful breath. āI love you, too.ā
Everything goes dark as the lightbulbs shatter.