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The ride back to the bunker passes in icy silence. Dean is seething and the more miles they travel, the angrier he gets. Fucking angel with his fucking death wishes. He glances over at the angel in question who is sulking and staring resolutely out the window. Only an hour ago their fingers were brushing together on the space between them. Now that space feels like miles and is immeasurably colder.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
Cas isn’t sure what to do with himself when they finally arrive back at the bunker. The Winchesters all tumble out of the car, stretching long limbs and yawning. They make for the door of the bunker and Cas watches them go, wondering if perhaps he ought to leave them to their reunion in peace. Then Dean turns back to him, stony-faced.
“You’re staying, right?” His voice is gruff, accusatory.
Cas scowls. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” Dean balls his hands into fists and twitches. “Just— don’t flap off and do anything stupid while we’re asleep.”
Dean turns on his heel then and disappears inside as Cas bristles at the reminder of his broken wings. He won’t be flapping anywhere tonight.
Sam and Mary are both apologetic and Sam gives his assurances that Dean will be better in the morning once he’s had a chance to sleep it off. Cas isn’t so sure.
It’s been excruciating all this time without Dean and now he’s finally here. Cas wants to soak Dean in, wants to scrub him clean of the prison grime and smooth away the new lines that have formed on his hardened face. He wants to breathe him in and re-catalogue every freckle. Instead he watches Dean disappear down the hall and slam his bedroom door.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
Dean is definitely not better in the morning. He shuffles into the kitchen and stops in his tracks at the sight of Cas sipping coffee and reading the paper. It’s all just so goddamn domestic and the irritation from yesterday flickers back to life as he thinks about what sort of cosmic consequences might be in store for the angel in his kitchen who’s drained the coffee pot and not bothered to start another.
As he moves behind Cas, Dean reaches to smooth down the angel’s ridiculous bedhead before he catches himself and lowers his arm back down to his side. He puts another pot of coffee on and starts breakfast, banging drawers a little louder than is strictly necessary.
Sam smirks. Dean glowers.
Cas says nothing, just glares at him every so often over the top of his paper.
Dean had months to think of all the things he wanted say to Cas when he got out. Now he says nothing either.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
The next evening they’re sitting around the table researching when Dean finally pipes up.
“Sam, can you please tell Cas not to leave dirty dishes in the sink?”
Cas rolls his eyes. “Sam, please tell your brother that it was one mug and he’s being unreasonable.”
Sam clears his throat, looks like he’s about to say something, then thinks better of it. The silence continues.
When Mary leaves to help the twins with a hunt she pulls Castiel aside before she goes and thanks him.
Cas cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes, unsure at first what she’s referring to.
“For taking care of my boys,” she says simply. Then she adds, “He’ll come around. What you did for them— for us—thank you just doesn’t seem to cut it.”
Mary seems genuinely thankful and Cas warms a little at her words. But it’s not Mary’s opinion that matters to him just now.
“Dean doesn’t seem to see it that way.”
Mary gives a small, sad smile that’s achingly familiar to Castiel.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
Dean stares at the shadow of Benjamin’s wings burned into the wall where he was slain. They are broken and burned looking and he realizes with a pang that Cas’s wings must be like that too. He hasn’t seem them since Metatron’s spell. The sick feeling in his gut grows worse. Cas is more fragile than he’d realized and certainly not in the the state he should be if cosmic consequences are headed their way.
He’s indignant when Cas tells them to wait outside at the diner because Ishim doesn’t like humans, but Cas cuts him off.
“If I plan to do anything else stupid, I’ll let you know.”
Any retort Dean had been about to say dies on his lips and he is left staring slack jawed at Cas’s back as he walks away towards the diner, trench coat flapping behind him.
Dean paces.
He knows they’re Cas’s brethren but Dean has never trusted other angels. He thinks of Naomi and Metatron and the skeptical, suspicious, uncomfortable feeling in his gut continues to grow.
Sam is muttering something undoubtedly obnoxious and Dean ignores him.
It’s the wings that finally do it. He thinks of Benjamin’s broken wings and he just can’t sit here anymore twiddling his thumbs. Dean Winchester doesn’t twiddle his goddamn thumbs.
He slides in next to Cas in the booth, gets nice and close, and stares down the other angel. He has to make sure they know that Cas is not alone. Cas has a family and they have his back.
He bristles at the way Ishim talks to Cas and the way Cas just takes it.
Then he thinks of some of the things he’s said to Cas just this past week alone when he lashed out in anger and how Cas had taken that too.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
Cas is annoyed but not surprised to see Dean being predictably obstinate as he barges into the diner. He is arrogant and foolhardy and insufferable. But when Dean’s body slides in next to his in the booth and he can feel his warmth pressing against him, he doesn’t care about any of it. This is the first time they’ve touched since the brief hug in the woods and the moment their fingers brushed together in the car.
Castiel is breathless with it and he’s sure Ishim must see right through him and read him like an open book.
Dean glares at Ishim, who could crush him like a bug, and Cas feels a swell of affection for Dean’s reckless impudence.
He didn’t realize just how well Ishim had him figured out until later when he’s laying beaten and bleeding on the ground. True, a banishing spell may kill him now, but it will save Dean and that’s what matters. It’s the right thing to do and Cas is ready. He turns to look at Dean’s face one last time.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
Dean can breathe a sigh of relief once he has Sam and Cas back in the bunker, safe. As he’s collecting beer in the kitchen with Sam, he takes the opportunity to talk to his brother alone out of earshot of the angel.
“Does he seem off to you?”
Sam nods. “Yeah. But then again, he did save our lives and you’ve been kind of an ass about it all week.” Dean sighs. “Just talk to him, Dean. He needs to hear it from you.”
Dean brings the beer in for Cas and pats him on the shoulder as he passes. He sinks into a chair, bracing himself mentally for words and talking and all of this feelings crap that puts his stomach in knots. It’s Cas though, and he can tell he’s hurting not just by the cut on his face that hasn’t fully healed yet, but by the way his shoulders droop and the way the dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced. Dean really is an ass.
“What Ishim said, you know you’re not weak, right Cas?”And then Sam jumps in and Dean feels buoyed by the support. They can do this, they can lift Cas up again, maybe stop him from thinking so little of his own life all the time.
“I’m not mad Cas, I’m worried.” This at least he needs to make clear.
He thinks they might be getting through, but then his heart sinks through to the floor at what Cas says next.
“I don’t regret what I did even if it costs me my life.”
It’s no use and the conviction with which Cas says this is unsettling to Dean. So he changes the subject to Kelly and the nephilim.
They drink to a better way.
They drink a lot, actually, and everything’s a little warm and fuzzy for Dean when they finally say their goodnights. Sam wanders off to his room and Dean makes to follow, ruffling Cas’s hair on his way out.
“Get some rest, Cas. We can pick up the research again in the morning.”
Dean feels reasonably good about the way they left things but then, as he’s climbing into bed, there’s a knock at his door.
“Dean?” He looks up to see Cas standing in the doorway.
“What’s up, Cas?” He yawns and shuffles over, making room on the bed next to him.
“Are we done now?”
Dean stares. “Done what?”
“The not talking to each other. Can we be done?”
Dean thought he’d made it clear that they were good, but there’s a note of desperation in Cas’s voice and he softens.
“Please?” Cas adds.
“Yeah Cas, we can be done. We’re done. C’mere.” He pats the space next to him on the bed. Cas hesitates in the doorway for a moment, his hands in fists at his side. Dean pats the bed again and Cas seems to jolt out of some kind of stupor, and this time he comes, collapsing in a heap on the other side of the bed.
He looks over at Dean, his eyes big and watery and blue and hiding nothing. Quietly, almost under his breath, he murmers, “I missed you, Dean.”
“I missed you too, buddy.” A derisive laugh bubbles up and escapes him. “You have no idea.”
He turns and Cas is right there, staring intently at him. Maybe it’s the beer, but he’s not really concerned about personal space right now and finds he quite likes the proximity after so long without it. It has been so long… so long without any touch at all. Cas is only inches away. He could lean over, just a bit, and their foreheads would touch. Or their lips...
He clears his throat, finally ready to broach the subject that’s been eating at him all day.
“I didn’t realize it was a mortal sin,” he mutters. “Angels bumpin’ uglies with us mud monkeys.”
Cas furrows his brow. “Don’t call yourself that.”
“All those times I tried to… I thought maybe…” Dean trails off, his brain tripping up on the words. All the times I tried to tell you I love you, he thinks. All the times you rejected me. He thinks of Purgatory and the crypt and all the other times he’s put himself out there and Cas has walked away.
He turns away so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye and lets it all out in a quick huff: “I thought you just didn’t want me.” He means it to sound nonchalant and he’s annoyed at how vulnerable he sounds. So he laughs to cover it up, but that sounds hollow even to his own ears. “Turns out all this time you could have been killed for… for feeling. I’m sorry if I ever caused you to be in danger.”
He looks up then to see Cas staring at him aghast. “I always want you, Dean,” he says solemnly and slowly, as if talking to a small child.
Dean shivers. “Is it still a criminal offence? Is that why we never… you know?”
“Yes, it’s still frowned upon. Though heaven isn’t exactly operational now. I think it would be difficult to enforce at present…” he trails off, then looks up at Dean. “You should know, it was never about me. They would have killed you too.”
Dean grins. “Then I say screw them. Consequences be damned, right?” He laughs. “I guess it’s kind of our thing.”
Maybe it’s the beer that’s loosened his tongue and made him bold, but Dean leans in then, and it feels right. This is what he’d imagined their reunion looking like.
This was how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
Just this once, Cas thinks. Just this once and then he will confess and repent and never be tempted again.
It has always been about protecting Dean. The angels would have come for him and hunted him down. Once he was out of the way they would have gone after Dean and Cas wouldn’t have been able to keep him safe.
If it were only about himself he would have caved years ago.
He caves now.
Dean kisses him, soft and slow and sweet, and Cas is overwhelmed. Dean pulls back a moment later, anxiously searching Cas’s face.
“Is this okay?” Dean asks, and Cas has never known how to say no to Dean. He never wants to, and he certainly doesn’t want to now. Dean’s hand is on Cas’s face, stroking his jaw and Cas is helpless to do anything but stare at the human who is truly his greatest weakness.
He kisses him back.
Cas thought he had experienced most of what humanity had to offer, but he was wrong. This is something else entirely, having the taste of Dean in his mouth. He thought he knew what this was after his time with April but this is altogether different. Everything is brighter, every sensation amplified as if he can feel his grace echoing in Dean.
And if he’s going to do this, if he’s going to break this last sacred oath, he’s going to go all in.
He grabs at Dean like he’s drowning, one hand tangling in his hair and the other running across his shoulder and down his back. He gets his hands under Dean’s t-shirt and lifts it up to reveal the warm expanse of skin beneath. He pulls gently and Dean lifts it off over his head.
He kisses the freckles on Dean’s nose and cheek and just above his lips. He kisses along his jaw and down the column of his throat. He tastes at the space behind his ear and then continues lower. He latches onto a nipple and Dean groans, stoking the fire that’s growing in Cas’s belly.
“Cas,” Dean breathes and pushes him gently down onto the bed. He starts undoing buttons until they’re both bared to one another from the waist up. He kisses down Cas’s chest and towards his belly and Cas’s body thrums underneath him. Dean hovers over him, flooding his senses, and Cas can’t keep still, can’t get enough. He cranes his neck, desperate to kiss every part of Dean he can reach.
Dean begins to roll his hips downward and Cas’s head drops heavily back onto the bed as he sees stars swarming his vision. He bucks up eagerly seeking friction and Dean settles them into a gentle rocking motion, his breath starting to come out in short gasps of air. Dean grunts and pants and it’s the most beautiful thing Cas has ever heard.
“Dean…”
“I know… I got you, Cas.”
Then Dean is grappling with his zipper, reaching inside, and Cas’s breath catches in his throat at the first feel of Dean’s hand and he shivers. Dean’s own cock is out and he presses them together, his hand encircling them both. He starts to move his hand up and down, squeezing them together, continuing to grind down.
Dean’s fingernail grazes over his slit and Cas jolts upward. Unfortunately it’s the precise moment that Dean has chosen to lean down and their heads bump together with a dull thump. Cas is mortified, but Dean bursts out laughing and then kisses him hard. He pulls back to examine the spot where they collided.
“That one might leave a mark.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. We’ve both had worse.” Dean smiles and Cas lifts his head more carefully this time to gently kiss the bump that’s forming on Dean’s forehead.
As Dean finds his pace again, Cas finds himself getting greedy. He thinks of all the different ways their bodies could press together. He wants Dean underneath him, wants to taste every part of him, wants to find each spot on his body that makes him gasp and moan. Cas has known Dean’s body before, has stitched it carefully back together from the tattered shreds he found in hell. But Cas has never known Dean’s body like this before, has never known Dean like this.
All at once he realizes that this will never be enough and it will never be a one time thing. For as long as Dean will have him, Cas will want this, will want Dean.
Dean twists his hand and suddenly Cas’s orgasm is punched out of him, surprising them both. The force of it shocks him and he squeezes his eyes tight against the assault of sensation. He gasps and shudders, his arms tightening their hold around Dean.
When he finally opens his eyes again a few moments later, Dean is a beautiful mess. There’s a pink flush on his face that has spread down and across his chest, and a bead of sweat on his brow that Cas is desperate to taste. His face is scrunched up and his breathing erratic. Now that his own sense of urgency has passed, Cas savours these last few moments with Dean before he topples over the edge. He snakes his hand down between their bodies, through the wetness that has pooled on his belly, and joins his hand with Dean’s.
Dean is babbling and incoherent, his face buried in the crook of Cas's neck. “Fuck.. Cas.. fuck.. oh god fuck.. I missed you… I’m sorry… I… fuck.. fuck.. Cas!”
Cas watches in unfettered amazement as Dean comes apart and collapses with a loud groan into the stickiness between them. His body shudders violently once and then goes perfectly still. Cas holds him tight, smoothes the hair back from his sweaty forehead, and places a kiss to his hairline.
Heaven is wrong. This is not a sin. Dean Winchester is not his weakness.
Cas feels whole and loved and like he’s right where he belongs.
This is how it’s supposed to go.
~~~~~
The next morning Sam groggily stumbles down the hall of the bunker on his way to the kitchen. He comes to a halt after passing Dean’s room and backtracks a few steps to Dean’s open doorway. His brother and his best friend are tangled together in a heap of blankets and Sam smiles to himself.
This is how it’s supposed to go. Finally.