Chapter Text
Cas glanced over at Dean in confusion then looked back at the items in the room. "Dean...?" The hunter didn't answer. Dean was silent for a moment then walked over to the table. His heart felt heavy and it was taking every ounce of his restraint not to cry. Dean swallowed hard and picked up one of the items. Cas peered around Dean's shoulder and frowned; in Dean's hands was a pair of glasses. Cas looked down at the table and saw a sweater and dark jeans folded neatly beside what seemed to be some type of record.
Cas heard what sounded like a whimper and looked back up at Dean. The hunter had his eyes squeezed tightly shut and he was gripping the glasses in his hands. "Dean...give me those. You're going to break them," Cas said softly, a little alarmed by Dean's reaction. When Dean didn't automatically hand them over, Cas gently pried Dean's fingers from the glasses and put them in his trench coat pocket. Dean opened his eyes and Cas briefly saw his expression of heartbreak before Dean turned away.
"Dean, what's-,"
"Please, Cas,"
Cas paused, his hand hovering over Dean's shoulder. Dean had stiffened and had one wavering hand up, as though in a warning. Hurt, Cas let his hand fall back to his side. He stared at Dean's back as the hunter walked slowly into the bathroom. As he shut the door behind him, Dean slumped to the floor. Head in his hands, Dean took in a few deep breaths. "Damn you, Sammy. This isn't right, man. It's too soon," Dean murmured, his voice thick. He wiped at his eyes, wincing at how raw they were. After a few moments, Dean stood up and flicked on the bathroom light.
As his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, Dean caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. "Ah crap. I look like I just got pulled out of Hell," he muttered. It was true; Dean looked like absolute shit. He guessed that, at some point, he must've gripped at his hair while reading Twist and Shout; it stuck up in about five different directions. His green eyes were bloodshot, red-rimmed, and were still slightly puffy. Now that Dean was alone and could actually pay attention, he noticed that his face was sticky with dry tears and snot. "Gross," he mumbled.
Turning on the water, Dean began to make himself more presentable. Cas, sitting quietly on one of the beds, was fiddling with the bottom of the sweater. He had changed into the clothes while Dean was in the bathroom, realizing that that was why they were there; they were meant to be worn by Cas. He wasn't used to the warm softness of the sweater. The sleeves covered Cas' knuckles instead of his wrists, but it fit quite nicely everywhere else. He was turning the glasses around and around in his fingers, wondering over their purpose.
Cas looked up and noticed that there was a strange looking machine sitting in the middle of the table with the record beside it. Frowning a little, Cas pondered over why Sam had bought all of these things. It was clearly making Dean upset and, from what the angel had gathered, the hunter had been through quite an experience that day. Sam hadn't been too clear when he had informed Cas that Dean might be acting strange. All he had said was: "Dean said that he wants to see you as soon as possible. I don't know what's wrong, but it sounded urgent. Oh, and he might act weird, so be prepared for that. Okay? Thanks, Cas."
Cas looked down at the glasses again and his frown deepened. "Why do you always look so serious all the time, Cas?" The angel looked up as Dean came out of the bathroom, looking better than he had before. Much better, actually. Cas hadn't realized that his mouth was hanging open until Dean came over and closed it by tapping his finger against Cas' chin. "You combed your hair?" Cas managed to squeak. Dean's hair, usually either ragged or mussed, was, indeed, neatly combed and was slightly wet.
Dean grinned a little and scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Yeah. What, you've never seen me with my hair brushed before?" Dean asked, sitting down beside Cas on the bed. In the bathroom, Dean had seriously thought over the situation with Castiel. He had made an attempt to separate the feelings he had towards the real Cas and the story Cas, but it wasn't easy on his heart. For the fictional Cas, Dean felt a sort of connection that he assumed was just stemmed from his imagination. But how could his mind have been able to form such feelings for a character if his feelings towards the real thing weren't identical?
Dean had gathered his nerves and had his heart set on finding a way to tell Cas- the angel of the real world- exactly how he felt and that it was genuine. But how? Dean and Cas sat in a tense silence- Dean looking down at the carpet and Cas fiddling with the glasses. "Why do you keep messing with those? It's not like you need to wear them," Dean said. His voice was slightly above a whisper and it sent a shiver down Cas' back. Castiel was another one with his heart set on confessing. He had been wanting to do so for a long time now. But poor Cas, being an angel and still new to the human world, was having a hard time with it.
He brought the glasses up and peered at them, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I don't understand the purpose for these, Dean. What are they supposed to do?" he asked. Dean's eyebrows rose and he opened his mouth then closed it. For a moment, all he did was look at Cas with a mildly amused expression. Dean gushed out a mixture between a sigh and a laugh then gently took the glasses from Cas' hand. As their fingers brushed, Dean felt a small, almost prickling sensation shoot up his hand. Judging from Cas' wide eyes, he had felt it, too.
"People use them to see. Like, say they have bad eyesight. They could use these," Dean said, gesturing with the glasses, "to see better." When Cas tilted his head in confusion, Dean opened the glasses up and held them in both hands. "Here, I'll show you," he said. Cautiously, Dean slipped the glasses on over the bridge of Cas' nose. The angel had his face scrunched up and his eyes squeezed shut, as though he were expecting it to hurt. Dean chuckled and made a few adjustments. When the hunter sat back, Cas slowly relaxed his face and paused, waiting.
"It's not doing anything, Dean," Cas said in disappointment. Dean laughed loudly and tapped a finger against Cas' forehead. "Open your eyes," he said. Cas' mouth opened in a silent 'oh' then he hesitantly opened his eyes. Dean's heart spasmed, but he kept his emotions in check. Cas looked around with wide eyes, taking in his surroundings. He looked like a child in a candy store, staring at everything in wonder. "These are very strange, Dean," he muttered, "Things are clear, but I sense no change in my vision. Did I break them?"
Dean shook his head with a small smile. The glasses slipped down a little and Cas, without thinking, pushed them back up with his knuckle. Once again, Dean felt his heart clench. Cas opened his mouth to ask Dean if he was alright, then remembered what had happened the last time. His eyes suddenly found the machine on the table. "Dean," he asked, "What is that?" The hunter frowned a little and looked over his shoulder at the machine. His body seemed to slump and he sighed, looking back at Cas. "A turntable, Cas. Back in the day, um, people used to listen to music on them," Dean managed to say.
Cas tilted his head and the glasses slipped down a little more. As Cas lifted his hand to push them back up, Dean found himself doing it for him. Cas stared at Dean with a slightly confused look. He smiled a little and gestured to the glasses. "Shouldn't I take these off?" he said. Dean raised his eyebrows at the hint of a tease in the angel's voice and his lips curled into a tiny grin. "Nah, I think you look pretty hot with them on," Dean said. Before Cas could register what Dean meant, the hunter stood and walked over to the turntable.
'Okay, Dean, just put on the record. You have to get it over with. Listen to the songs and try not to breakdown like a damn chick,' Dean told himself as he fiddled with the machine. After he managed to get the thing working, Dean picked up the record. Sam had, of course, bought the Blue Hawaii album. He could almost hear the fictional Cas telling him to play the record with Elvis wearing the hula shirt. Dean flipped the record over and scanned the song list. Nodding, Dean pulled the shiny black record from its paper case and placed it gently on the turntable. As Blue Hawaii began to play, Dean found himself experimentally bobbing his head to the music. '"I can dig Elvis."' Dean instantly halted his actions and looked over at Cas.
The angel was listening to the music with a content look on his face. He was even tapping his foot a bit. Dean suddenly got an idea and shrugged off his jacket. Cas looked up at him as the hunter came over with his hand held out. "Come on, Cas, I wanna try something," he said. When Dean smiled charmingly at him, Cas grinned shyly and took Dean's hand. Moving to the center of the room, Dean took Cas' hands and placed them over his shoulders.
"Dean-,"
"Just go with it, Cas,"
The angel's face was getting redder and redder as Dean pulled him closer by the hips. "Dance with me, Cas," he teased in a soft voice. Cas looked down at their feet and pouted a little. "I don't know how to...to dance, Dean," he said. A devilish grin curled up the hunter's full lips as Almost Always True began to play. "You gotta start sometime, right?" His hands rested on Cas' hips and he began moving the angel in a rhythmic motion. Cas, startled, glanced back up at Dean. The hunter was gazing at him with a tender expression that made another shy smile spread across Cas' face.
Through each song, Dean slowly taught Cas how to move with the music and they eventually got to hang of it. By the time No More began to fade away, the two had gotten comfortable with dancing together. Cas had even laughed a bit when Dean spun the angel around. Dean was just pulling Cas back against him, when the song- the one that would be his breaking point- began to softly play. As it filled the room, Dean leaned his forehead against Cas', his eyes heavy-lidded. He watched Cas look up and catch the hunter's green eyes and Dean felt as though he could drown in the ocean blue depths of the angel's gaze.
Dean hummed along to the song, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Cas, concerned, gently wiped at the tears that escaped down Dean's cheek with his thumbs. He didn't know why, but something about this particular song made Cas feel a strong emotion towards the hunter. He had never felt such an intense feeling towards anyone before. Cas gently stretched up and placed a soft kiss against the stubble of Dean's cheek. Dean didn't react the way the angel had been expecting; he thought Dean would pull away in disgust and shove him. But, no, Dean...simply took in a deep shuddering breath and held Cas closer.
They were gently swaying to the sweet music that seemed to fill the entire room. Dean's forehead was pressed against Cas' shoulder and Cas had his arms around Dean's back, his cheek against the hunter's neck. "Like a river flows...surely to the sea," Dean sang quietly in a broken voice, "Darling, so it goes...some things are meant to be." Cas closed his eyes and listened to Dean's singing. It sounded very sad and almost, in a way, nostalgic. Cas was sure he had heard this voice before, perhaps once in a dream.
Dean sang along with Elvis, his slightly raspy, deep voice mixing with the sweet tenor of the King. Every fiber in Cas' being was relaxed and he could feel Dean's strength beneath his clothes. He felt secure in Dean's arms, feeling the muscles flex a bit around him. Cas' heart felt almost too full and heavy with emotion and thudded hard and steady in his chest. The angel could feel Dean's heart beating against him and smiled warmly. The corners of his eyes crinkled up as he did so. A somewhat contented sigh escaped his lips and he, without realizing it, began to lightly stroke Dean's back.
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and allowed Cas' scent to soothe him. The soft sweater brushed against Dean's forehead as he gently swayed with Cas. 'Am I really doing this? Is this actually happening?' he thought. He heard Cas sigh and, when he felt the angel's fingers glide across his back and shoulders, Dean allowed himself to cry. The turntable and its music faded to the background as Dean's focus concentrated fully on Castiel. Suddenly, Dean realized something about their situation.
Abruptly, Dean pulled away and extracted himself from the angel's embrace. Cas barely had time to look hurt for Dean crossed the room and took the record off of the turntable. Mumbling under his breath, Dean began rummaging through his bag, searching for that one specific thing. Cas, meanwhile, stood silently and struggling with inner turmoil. 'Did I do something wrong? I should probably say sorry. I liked dancing and I liked it when Dean sang. Why am I continuing this thought process?' Cas thought, shaking his head with a small frown.
"Dean, what are you-?"
"Found it!"
Castiel blinked in surprise as Dean held up what appeared to be a music tape- or whatever they were called. The angel peered at Dean curiously as the hunter slipped the tape into a music player by the television. Cas opened his mouth to speak, but his words caught in his throat when Dean suddenly crossed the room to stand in front of him. With a shy smile, Dean carefully removed the glasses from Cas' face and laid them on the table next to the turntable.
Cas huffed out a confused, frustrated sigh as Dean hurried away again. "Dean, what are you doing?" he said. Dean simply smiled and pulled out a clean button down white shirt from his dufflebag. When Dean approached Cas again, he was more hesitant and had a light blush dusting his cheeks. Cas, still not understanding what the hell was going on, stood still as Dean's fingers splayed warmly against the smooth skin of the angel's stomach.
Very slowly, Dean slid his palms along Cas' skin to the angel's sides, lifting the soft material of the sweater in his climb upwards. Cas shivered as Dean's fingers bumped along his ribs and the warmth of the hunter's rough palms glided against his skin sensually. Cas had never been touched like this before; sure, he had had sex with that April girl, but it hadn't been anything special. This- what Dean was making him feel right now- was something entirely different.
It was over sooner than Cas would have liked. Sweater less, Cas stood somewhat awkwardly, the chilly air hitting his bare skin and making him shiver. Dean turned toward the angel then paused, eyes slowly taking in Cas' figure. Cas nearly choked as Dean nodded and made small hum of approval. He handed Cas the white shirt and went back to the music player. Frowning, Castiel buttoned the shirt up, fumbling with the last two buttons. "Leave them." Something in Cas' stomach fluttered and he looked up at the hunter.
"Dean, why did you want me to change?" he asked. Dean glanced over from the music player and smiled sadly. "Because that wasn't us, Cas. That wasn't our moment in time," he said softly. Cas didn't quite understand, but there was something in Dean's voice that stopped him from questioning further. Dean continued to look at Cas for a moment, his eyes flickering over Cas' body, then returned to the music player. With a satisfied hum, Dean pressed the play button and made his way back over to Cas, his gaze blazing with intense emotion. Cas' heart thudded a bit faster.
Music filled the room and Dean raised his brows a little. "I didn't know if you liked Metallica," he said, pulling Cas flush against his body. The angel smiled and even chuckled a bit. Dean bit his lip and tried to stifle the laugh bubbling in his chest. Cas snorted and, soon enough, the two were laughing again, leaning against each other. "I can always change the song," Dean said. Cas shook his head and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck again. "You like Metallica. You told Sam once that it helped calm you down," Cas murmured.
Dean couldn't help the dorky smile that just about engulfed his face at Cas' statement. The angel laughed as Dean started moving them to the rhythm. They spun and swayed to the music, each with a goofy grin on his face. "Never cared for what they do. Never cared for what they know. But I know...so close, no matter how far. Couldn't be much more from the heart. Forever trusting who we are and nothing else matters," Dean sang. Cas rocked to the classic rock and his heart beat faster as Dean twirled him around again.
It was when Dean pulled him close again- close enough that their noses brushed- that Castiel felt exactly how hard his heart was pounding. At first, he wondered if maybe it was from the dancing, but, the moment Dean's green gaze caught his eye, Cas understood. Dean and Cas both paused in their dancing, eyes locked in one of their usual moments of prolonged eye contact. There was a certain...spark to this moment, however. Dean hesitantly leaned forward a little, glancing from the angel's lips to the deep blue of his eyes.
Cas was looking up at Dean, feeling as though he were drowning in those green pools of warmth, when their lips brushed. It was the smallest of touches, just a tiny breath of contact. But it was enough to make Dean's stomach drop and Cas' breath to nearly stop. Dean took in a sharp intake of breath and his arms tightened around Cas instinctively. Cas, without breaking eye contact, brought his hands down and cupped the hunter's face between his palms. That was all the initiative that Dean needed.
Leaning down, Dean captured Cas' lips with his own, feeling that this kiss had been long overdue. Cas gasped against Dean's lips and his hands slid from the hunter's neck to his hair. Cas' fingers lightly scraped against Dean's scalp, sending shivers down the taller man's spine. Dean's hands found their way back under Cas' shirt. As Dean's palms slid up Cas' back, the angel let out a small whimper. Dean felt as though he had been electrocuted, his heart jolted so hard.
'Holy crap,' Dean thought. Cas pulled away to breathe and Dean took that opportunity to trail his lips down the angel's strong jaw. Dean had never kissed a man before and found that he enjoyed the prickly sensation of Cas' facial hair on his lips. Cas tilted his head back, giving the hunter access to his neck. The angel's head was a whirlwind and he could barely think straight. Metallica was still playing, but neither man was paying too much attention to it. Dean's caressing hands sent cascades of shivers through Cas' skin, leaving the angel with goosebumps.
"Dean...Dean, we should stop. Before things get out of hand," Cas breathed reluctantly. Dean kissed the sensitive spot under Cas' ear and felt his heart jump again as the action illicted a tiny moan from the angel. "Mmm, I don't even care anymore," Dean whispered. Cas forced himself to pull away from the hunter, even as Dean trailed tingling kisses down the smooth skin of Cas' throat. "Dean, please," he murmured. Dean groaned and pulled away from Cas.
The final strums of guitar were fading away as the song ended. Crossing the room, Dean shut off the music player. Cas gulped and fixed his shirt, pulling it down from where Dean had bunched it up. Dean stood with his back to Castiel, trying to understand the torrent of emotions that threatened to overpower him. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around Dean's waist and a chin nestled in the crook of his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Dean," Cas whispered. Dean shushed him softly and twisted so he was facing Cas. Without thinking, Dean pressed a kiss to Cas' forehead.
"Don't apologize, Cas, you were right. We went too fast," Dean mumbled. Cas bit his lip and hugged Dean to him, taking the hunter by surprise. Dean, after a moment, smiled and hugged the angel back. They stood there for what felt like hours, holding each other. "Dean?" Cas broke the silence shyly, his fingers lightly gripping the back of Dean's shirt. The hunter made a small hum in response. "I like Metallica." Dean pulled back a little and looked down at Cas, who gazed up at him with an innocent expression.
Dean chuckled then started laughing. Cas frowned for a moment then smiled. "I like you," Dean said. Cas was a bit taken aback by this and his eyebrows flew up in surprise. Dean stared at him with a deer in headlights look and bit his lip. "I-uh-I meant that you're, you know, great. More than great. You're awesome and, um-," Dean stammered. His face was burning with embarrassment and he was internally yelling at himself for making such an awkward comment.
Cas smiled and lightly kissed Dean on his plump lips, silencing the nervous spluttering. Dean relaxed and kissed the angel back. "Let's dance again. I enjoyed it quite a lot," Cas said. Dean grinned and pressed the play button. As the two began to dance once more, Sam leaned against the passenger side door of the Impala. He grinned triumphantly and looked down at the figure within the Impala. "It's about damn time, you idjits," Bobby said, laughing. When Sam got back into the Impala and started the engine, he glanced back into the motel. He watched his brother and the angel dance like dorks through the open window. Sam grinned smugly.
"You're welcome, jerk."