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It’s only five minutes into the movie when Dean sits down to watch. Cas is curled up on the love seat in the library, and the TV is a shitty old thing they picked up at Good Will. They don’t even get basic cable, but it plays DVD’s and Cas is slowly amassing a rather impressive collection. If he’s honest a tiny rebellious part of him had wanted to see it while it was in theaters. It was supposed to be good, at least according to a copy of Rolling Stone he picked up in some back country truck stop. He’d spent a few long hours staring at a grimy motel room ceiling trying to justify the purchase of a ticket, telling himself that even if they were gay cowboys, they were still cowboys so that had to count for something. But the part of his brain that always twisted uncomfortably when he said he was straight, told him to avoid the movie altogether. John would know, and then where would Dean be? But John’s been dead almost seven years now and it’s supposed to be a tragedy. And if Cas is going to insist on watching it than Dean’s got to watch it with him to make sure he’s okay.
The film starts out quiet, a lot of panning shots of sheep and a gentle guitar. Dean’s not really sure what to expect. He’s heard the jokes, of course, but the beginning is boring-slow is probably the word Sam would use, and he gets distracted by Cas’ feet, bare toes brushing against Dean’s thigh. Cas is engrossed, his eyes are glued to the screen and his hands are wrapped around a mug of quickly cooling tea he has yet to take a sip of. Dean tunes in again as Heath Ledger’s character –Ennis- is telling Jack that it’s no one’s business but theirs, and Dean thinks he can relate.
It’s actually scary how quickly he finds himself in Ennis, once he actually starts paying attention. And all he can think about is Lisa and Ben who he left; and Cas, who will have sex with him but won’t spend the night. A part of him wonders, if he had stuck around for Lisa, would he and Cas still have fallen into bed? He sort of thinks the answer is yes.
There’s a part of him that’s furious Ennis doesn’t leave his wife and daughters to be with Jack. He gets it, fuck, does he get it. But Ennis doesn’t have a good excuse for not being with Jack other than that he’s a yellow-bellied-son-of-a-bitch who’s to cowardly to grab on to the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Dean’s own hand snakes out to rest on Cas’ knee. Cas looks over at him curiously, but fits his own fingers with Dean’s.
By the time they’re back on the mountain, and wishing they knew how to quit each other; Cas has curled into Dean his cheek pressed into Dean’s chest and his tea sitting long forgotten on the floor. Dean squeezes Cas a little tighter, presses a kiss into Cas’ hair, and thinks about all the myriad and horrible ways John would react if he could see his son now. And then he’s just grateful that God seems to be dead, because even though he’s never read the bible all that thoroughly he’s pretty sure God would have a problem with Dean’s homosexual interspecies love affair with a falling angel.
He knew it was going to happen, before the movie started he knew it was going to happen because he had heard the jokes. But the movie had killed him. Killed Jack-fucking-Twist, with his messy dark hair and big blue eyes and stupid unending devotion to a bastard that didn’t deserve it. He’s squeezing Cas tightly against his chest and he can feel every little tremor and shake as Cas cries quietly, eyes still glued to the television. Dean buries his nose in Cas’ hair and takes comfort in the stupid girly shampoo Cas insists on using. He thinks Cas should have quit him a long time ago.