Chapter Text
Dean holds onto Cas's arm, inhaling through his nose and licking his lips as he pans eyes around, still holding the gun that is too long and friggin cumbersome for just one hand, honestly, but - he can't let go.
Not even that.
He doesn't wanna let go.
Feels like his heart beats in his fingers as he swallows, as then he says "Cas, uh. I've-we've had some hard times, man, an' this ain't meant to be a pity-party so don't you dare start doin' somethin' like you do -apologizin' for shit, I just." He sighs, his brow drops, and his tone roughens. "I've been a real dick to you about things. Things you knew about, maybe, but I knew about em too, I just wouldn't let myself think out all the crap I knew could happen. Like I - I knew Jack was getting bad, he was havin' trouble controlling his power anyway and the whole not havin' a soul..." Dean's voice goes quieter as he offers a squeeze to the angel's elbow now. Cas's body stiffens, he feels it. He feels the guy get on edge, and even feels as much as sees in the angel's eyes, the tinge of regret and self-loathing and defeat. That stuff all comes in, threatening to pile on, but Dean isn't gonna let it happen.
He grips and shakes the angel's arm sharply.
"I'm saying I shouldn't 've blamed you, man. Shouldn't have told you that if he..." his voice fails before he blinks away burning tears and continues "if he did somethin' to Mom that YOU were dead to me, because - if that-" Dean chokes on his words, drops his head. He feels Cas turn, feels those eyes on him, worried, but he waves the concern away. "I'm good, I just. Need ya to know that was -horseshit, what I said. 'Cause there's no way I'd be able to even handle you bein' dead to me, not while you're still here. I couldn't even take it when you -" Dean inhales through his mouth, an almost whistling slow breath before blinking hard, clearing his throat. "When you were- whenever you were gone." Dead. "Ya don't know how much that tore me -" up inside, "absolutely to hell." I couldn't sleep or eat and you know how nuts that is, his lips nearly twitch even as his eyes are flat and full, glistening with sorrow. He blinks as he feels that damn tear bead up and start to fall. He sniffles, reaches up and swipes at his face, his nose with a jerk of the arm.
He still hasn't let go of Cas, his fingers now rubbing circles through coat and shirt, hoping to reach his skin as much as reach the guy with what he's saying. What he's trying to say. "I need you, buddy," Dean speaks gruffly. "And I don't mean I need you to- do anything. Just to ...just to be here" with me. "And stick around." He feels himself sweating, prickles of moisture at the nape of his neck and edge of his hair. And - to stay. Please, stay. "I'm so fuckin sorry I ever made you think you hadta leave. That isn't what I wanted, friggin -ever." You're my best friend, Cas. You're ...more. Dean swallows, blinking hard and desperately, his vision blurring, a tear sliding down his nose. "You keep me goin' as much as you save me, pal. Which is a l- which is all the damn time."
Cas is looking at him with an expression damn near to his squinty-eyes-and-tilting-head look. Those sky blues are quizzical, and Dean swears quietly. He's got to make the guy understand -
Again, Dean swallows hard. "I keep sayin' you're like our brother, Cas - but you're not, to me. You're -"
"You said I was your best friend, in your prayer," Castiel speaks quietly, and Dean starts nodding rapidly. Sweet sonofabitch giving him a lifeline, and he probably doesn't even know it.
"Yeah, exactly," Dean catches his breath. They've reached the area of the portal now, and he scans around again for signs of leviathan or anything else, but sees naught for the moment but that shimmer of dark blue and white that strikes him in the chest with familiarity, with the last time he'd been with Cas here, and the guy had ripped himself away and bellowed for Dean to go.
No. This time he ain't going. Not without saying this, getting across what he needs to.
Not without Cas.
He's staring at the angel, now; devouring the dude with his eyes, and alright, there's some begging in there too, begging the guy to get it, to understand what he means.
"Cas," spinning his body and sliding opposite hand to hold the back of the angel's coat, shifting shotgun to keep upright and distant enough so it doesn't hit the guy, Dean takes his hand from Cas's arm and grabs his face, thumb to cheek, fingers extended and pushing through hair. His eyes track across the angel's face and then he comes in, tilting face, nose brushing along Cas's cheek. With a thready inhale he presses his lips to Castiel's. Grabs at the angel's clothes and face and hair, feeling Cas's closeness, that same hint of relaxation with which he had sagged, during their hug, into Dean.
Despite the fact the angel has been so focused on procuring the ingredients for the spell and keeping thoughts on providing the necessary assistance, and possible rescue...
Cas is frozen in the moment, here; his eyes shoot wide and then flutter closed at the sight of Dean's lashes spread down across his freckled cheeks. He hears the rapidity of Dean's breaths through nostrils and then feels the soft yet insistent presses of plump lips. Dean has kissed him before, but not like this; not as if the kissing is speaking, as if this is meant as the culmination of something, of everything.
Grasp of his hand has traveled down Cas's side, sliding under his trenchcoat to grip ribs, and then hip, to tug the angel flush to him even as Dean drops his lips from the seraph's now and rests together their foreheads, exhaling another shaky breath. He's withdrawing, his entire body trembling. There are tremors in his fingers' grasp, and Castiel says "Dean." Drops one of his hands to cover Dean's, and then with the other cups his face, traces his lips. He blinks and lifts eyes to meet Dean's.
Dean gulps and says "Brothers don't do that," his voice is quiet and so, so rough. "Brothers don't even think about it, an' you and I - uh." Dean falters with his cheeks now burning red.
Castiel nods at him in understanding and hand fisting sharply in the cloth of Dean's clothes, the angel tugs at the man's shirt and drags his body even closer. Dean's eyes widen as he expels sound in half-grunt, half-whine. "I'd love nothing more than to continue this, but we have to get back, Dean. We have to do this spell and spare the world from God. -I can't believe...," He shakes his head, eyes widening in wonder.
Dean almost chuckles, one side of his mouth lifts. "Can't believe you're sayin' this, huh? Who'd a thought Chuck would be -"
"Such a capricious god?" Cas asks.
"I was gonna say, who'd a thought he'd be such a dick, but sure. Capricious works too." He winks at the angel. "You an' your big dorky words," though his tone is light and teasing, Dean's gaze is so warm and fond that it makes Castiel's heart flutter.
They've stepped back from one another and turned, reaching the portal itself now, and Dean extends his hand. They are still so close as to be bumping shoulders, but Cas doesn't hesitate to reach back. He threads their fingers together as Dean runs his thumb across skin of their joined hands and squeezes.
"I'm with you," he says, voice retaining a hint of roughness. "-we got this. Let's go kick it in the ass."
"As I am with you, Dean," Castiel replies. And he shall be, for as long as he can.
"Let's go."