Chapter Text
It’s ridiculous. Dean knows it’s ridiculous. But he can’t help it.
So he ignores the eye-roll from his brother and the pitying look from Charlie as he rights himself, having avoided Cas’ elbow by mere inches.
Cas is still towering over him.
Dean risks a quick glance upwards. Cas is frowning but he’s looking right through him. It’s like he’s frowning at himself.
It makes Dean’s stomach tumble over itself again. Ridiculous. Ridiculous amounts of hope. All because Cas is giving him any attention at all, negative as it may be.
Charlie elbows him in the ribs. “Stop drooling,” she whispers as Cas turns away abruptly.
Dean’s heart sinks, the short moment of preening under Cas’ attention already giving way to feeling pathetic. Well, he’s accustomed to that.
He glares at Charlie. “Am not drooling.”
“Right.” The sarcasm is dripping off of the sentence.
Dean doesn’t answer because sarcasm is okay but if he answers he’ll accidentally tell her how happy it makes him that Cas tried to elbow him in the face instead of ignoring his existence, and then she’s going to declare him certifiable. Which, in all fairness, he probably is.
Thing is, it’s been three months. Three months in which Cas could have gone home with someone else on eleven different occasions that Dean counted. That’s how many times they were all out together. Oh, Cas has flirted with someone else every single one of those times and Dean’s jaw had hurt for two days from gritting his teeth when Cas groped a guy right in front of him. But then later that night, that guy had asked Cas to go home with him. And Cas had said No.
So excuse him if he sees it as a good sign that Cas is A, still available and B, doesn’t ignore him completely anymore. That if nothing else, at least when they’re roughhousing Cas is not going out of his way to make sure he’s not interacting with Dean.
Charlie sighs loudly next to him and pokes him in the ribs again. “Earth to Dean, we’re still here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean sighs. He takes a swig of his coke. No alcohol. Never any alcohol around Cas anymore.
Cas takes his soda bottle and puts it to his lips before seeing Dean’s coke. He frowns at it, then at his own drink, then at Dean and finally sets his drink back down on the table without drinking.
Charlie looks from Cas to Dean and back, groans and buries her face in her hands. “You’re such fucking idiots, I can’t take it.”
“Gee, thanks Charles. Way to be a supportive best friend,” Dean grumbles.
“I am, dude, I am. I am way more supportive than I ever thought I could stand without puking.” She groans again. “I really didn’t need to know this about you.”
Dean looks at her puzzled because she already knows that he’s following Cas around like a lovesick puppy, so there’s really not that much new information there.
“Oh my God,” the groan turns into a slightly hysterical laugh, “you don’t even notice, do you?”
“Charlie, what the fuck?” Dean shakes his head.
“If I didn’t know this was serious…,” she wheezes.
Dean takes another sip of his drink and lets her get it out of her system. When she’s calmed down, she leans in close, waving Sam off when he looks at them curiously. “I swear he’s thinking about tying you up and spanking you until he’s not irritated at himself anymore.”
Dean feels himself turning beet-red. He opens his mouth to rebuff her but no words come out.
Charlie, for all of her conspiratorial closeness, has been watching him like a hawk. “Wanna deny this any time soon? Cause the longer you wait, the more I’m gonna be convinced you’d be on board with that plan.”
“I -,” But the words don’t come. Instead, his eyes are drawn to Cas’ soda. He’s sober. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t been drinking at any of their get-togethers. Not where Dean could see, anyway. Dean averts his eyes. “He ain’t gonna,” he says to Charlie, not bothering with the denial he knows is useless.
“Why’s that?” Charlie asks.
“You got over the whole ‘I didn’t need to know this about your sex life’ fast,” Dean tries to divert her attention.
“Dean,” she says sternly.
He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t work like that, you know that, right? Just cause he can get me to do stuff, doesn’t mean it works the same for you.”
She raises one eyebrow at him, sits up straight and leans forward into his space.
“You suck,” he mumbles but he shrinks back against it a little. Just enough that she smirks and backs off.
“So?” She asks.
“So what?” he tries one last time to get out of this.
“So why can’t he just – punish you and get over this? Seeing how you’re obviously hung up on each other still.”
“Cause that ain’t how it works, either.”
“Why?”
Dean sighs. “Cause he’s a control freak. He doesn’t trust himself when he’s angry. And believe me, he’s angry.”
“What did you do anyway? You never said.”
“Freaked out on him. Said a few things.” Dean shrugs. “I was drunk.” That should be explanation enough.
The pity from before is back in Charlie’s eyes. “Who did you say the things about? Him or yourself?”
“Umm.” She knows him way too well. Dean’s heart seizes up but since he’s already spilling his guts here, what’s the use in withholding that piece of information. “Myself, I guess. Though obviously that inferred a few things about him.”
“Dean, you gotta stop doing that.” Charlie squeezes his knee. “John’s an asshole and everything he says is bullshit.”
There are tears prickling at the corners of Dean’s eyes, so he quickly looks away from Charlie. Of course that makes him look right into the worried eyes of his younger brother. And one of Cas’ frowns.
Great, now they’re teaming up on his sorry ass.
“I gotta get some air. I’ll be back.” He stands up abruptly, snatching his coke bottle from the table because it’s at least something to hold on to, seeing how he’s given up on all his vices. For a moment, he resents Cas for that, then his Dad, then himself. Then he lets it go.
Because deep down, he knows it’s better this way. He’s got his Dad as an example of what happens when a bottle of Jack is your best friend. And cigarette smoke tastes vile, he can’t really deny that, even if he gave that one up for Cas and right now he’s in the mood to be stubborn about anything that Cas brought into his life.
He plonks down on the porch steps. That’s the worst part, probably. That he’s pining and pathetic, and at the same time his life is still better than it was before Cas. He downs more of his coke. It’s the irony of it all, that he lost Cas over an outbreak of anguish and self-deprecation that really wasn’t even him anymore.
Because these days, Dean’s actually kind of proud of his life, pathetic lovesickness aside. He’s got a job that he doesn’t hate, he’s got great friends, and back when he thought Cas was the One and would be sticking around, he’d finally managed to get his head out of his ass and come out to everyone. So even though the whole sticking around thing didn’t work out, Dean’s still happily out and it’s made his life approximately 85% easier. He’d never noticed how much energy that posturing thing zapped before he stopped doing it.
He’s not quite so sure reactions would be similarly positive if the things he’d just told Charlie became public knowledge. Accepting your brother is bi is one thing, accepting that he likes to get trussed up and used is another. Dean grimaces, the words are not his friends even when he’s only thinking them.
So what does that make me? If this is what you think of yourself, what do you have to think of me?
Cas’ words rattle around in Dean’s head, complete with Cas’ gobsmacked expression, gradually replaced by hurt when Dean couldn’t take back what he’d said. When his self-hate was too deep that day, a few hours after coming back from spending Christmas at his Dad’s place.
He’s tried to apologize since. At least for the part where he hurt Cas with what he said. Because Cas is awesome and Dean hasn’t got a single bad thought about him. But Cas had been stubborn about this one, wounds running too deep.
A few words won’t solve this, Dean. You meant what you said, and we both know it.
Which yeah, Dean had meant it, and he also hadn’t. He’d been drunk and his Dad’s voice had been louder than his own. And yeah, he can’t guarantee that that won’t happen again. He’s trying, though. Noticeable if by nothing else then by how he’s nursing his coke and not even freaking out about Charlie figuring it out.
Which, you know, he still doesn’t know how she did that. All he’d seen was Cas scowling. Then of course, Cas scowling while Dean pathetically follows him around, flirts too hard, and basically just in general tries too hard and flushes scarlet every time it gets him any attention at all, is pretty much a common occurrence these days. And if you want to label it with a power balance, well, Dean’s not coming out on top in that dynamic.
Thing is, his heart soars every time Cas so much as looks in his direction and he can’t do jack about it. And he’s not going to stop hanging out with his friends to avoid Cas.
“You’re infuriating,” a dark gravelly voice suddenly says.
For a moment, Dean believes it’s his imagination taking on Cas’ voice but then the man himself comes into view. He leans against the porch railing instead of sitting down.
Dean feels the heat creep up his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” Cas asks a little exasperatedly.
“For being infuriating?” It’s what Cas said and as good a guess as any. Also, Dean guesses that it’s fair enough to call his pathetic state infuriating.
Cas huffs, though, so the answer was apparently wrong. Dean stomps down the urge to apologize again and bites his lips instead. He doesn’t want to make Cas leave. And if he says anything else that’s probably what’s going to happen.
“You’re infuriating because I can’t get you out of my head. And the way you’re,” Cas clears his throat, “the way you’re reacting to me isn’t helping, either.”
The heat creeps up Dean’s neck again. Of course Cas would notice. He’s always been attuned to Dean, inside and outside of their playtime. Dean fiddles with the leather band around his wrist.
“I can’t,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”
“What?” Cas squints at him, puzzled.
“You’re going to ask me to stop. And I can’t. It’s just,” he shrugs helplessly, “the way I am around you.”
With a sigh, Cas pushes himself off the rail and sits down next to Dean after all. “If it’s any consolation, that’s not what I was going to say.”
“It wasn’t?” Dean asks.
“No,” Cas shakes his head. “But I might still take some measures to make things easier on us.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I cannot and do not want to control your actions, Dean. The only thing I can control is myself. And I’m not doing it very well around you.”
“So you don’t want to be around me at all,” Dean deducts, voice flat, heart sinking somewhere towards the floor.
“It’s not a matter of want, Dean. It’s a matter of being practical.” Cas trails off, looking into the distance instead of at Dean.
“’s your choice,” Dean mumbles. “I mean, obviously. It‘s just… just that I miss you terribly and I don’t know what to do to make you not angry with me anymore. Like, not even get back together, just… I hate it that you’re angry and disappointed.” Which of the two is worse, he doesn’t know. As it is, his voice is getting smaller the more he feels Cas tensing next to him, so he stops. “You didn’t want to hear that. Sorry.” He hangs his head.
“I…,” Cas rubs his forehead. “You’re right, Dean. I didn’t want to hear it. If only because it would make things easier if you had moved on. Benny would take you back in a heartbeat. Lisa, too.”
Dean scowls, unhappy about Cas listing potential romantic partners like this is just some human on human transaction. As if there’s nothing deeper to Dean’s feelings than having someone, no matter whom. “Don’t want him,” Dean grits out. “Or her.” He doesn’t add the want you. If Cas isn’t aware of that, he doesn’t deserve the knowledge.
But apparently Cas gets it because he’s quiet for a while, before he finally says, “I’ve spent a long time coming to terms with myself. I cannot lose that.”
“I wouldn’t want you to,” Dean replies somewhat heatedly. “When I fell in love with you, it was with all the quirks included. And the, umm, dominant thing as well.” His voice wavers towards the end of the sentence, short-lived anger already burned out and embarrassment creeping back in. He shakes his head unwillingly. He’s been over this with himself a bazillion times in the past few months, he will manage to say it out loud to Cas. “My boyfriend and my Dom. I loved you as both of those, Cas.” It comes out stable and Dean even remembers to word this in the past tense. He nods satisfied. At least something.
It gets him a small smile from Cas, too, like he notices the effort that that’s cost Dean. The smile is not as bitter as he’s used to seeing lately, either. Unfortunately, it’s a lot sadder instead. “I’m angry at myself, Dean. Not at you.”
“For letting me get to you,” Dean figures out immediately because he’s an idiot but not that big of an idiot. “For letting me make you feel bad about yourself. Which makes it my fault again.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Cas shakes his head. “It’s my job to have a stable core of who I am. It’s not your job to bolster that.” Cas chuckles softly. “For all your self-deprecation, I think you do a better job at that than me. At knowing who you are.”
Dean shrugs. He doesn’t always like who he is but he’s got enough people calling him out on his bullshit that being honest with himself has become habit. “Yeah, I kind of know who I am. I kind of know what I want, too.” He takes an ostentatious sip from his coke bottle, knowing that Cas will get what he means.
That it’s Cas that he wants and that he wants to be sober because he wants what they had and he wants all the playtime and he doesn’t want his judgement to be impaired. But it’s also more than that. He doesn’t want to go back to the person he was before Cas came into his life. He’s working on his coping mechanisms and even if it doesn’t help with the lovesick puppy thing, Dean’s life isn’t falling apart because Cas isn’t in it anymore. He doesn’t need Cas. But boy, does he want him.
“You still shouldn’t let me elbow you in the face,” Cas says, voice and face softer than they had been. Like he’s noticed everything that Dean has changed and is proud of him but doesn’t want to admit it.
“I trust you,” Dean says simply. “You wouldn’t go too far.”
“Sometimes I think that your judgement is more impaired sober than when drunk,” Cas shakes his head.
“Dude,” Dean’s not sure whether he should take offense or laugh. He decides to go for the third option. “Keep this up and you’ll never again have a leg to stand on when telling me I’m too self-deprecating.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Cas snorts. Then he lets out a long deliberate breath. “I’m glad I came out here, Dean, and that we talked. It was the right thing to do.”
“Because open communication is important?”
“Because I don’t like loose ends. And I didn’t want you to think that I’m still upset with you. I’m not. I don’t regret what we had, Dean. Not a single moment of it.”
“So this is goodbye?” Dean suddenly understands. His heart sinks into his stomach again.
“For a while anyway,” Cas nods. “I’m leaving early tomorrow. I’m going to visit my granny for the summer. I don’t know how long I’ll be away.”
There are a thousand questions immediately on Dean’s mind. How and why and what about your work and your friends and what about me. But he doesn’t ask them. Instead, he says, “Guess if I asked you whether I could text you, you’d say No, huh?”
“I can’t, Dean. I need to clear my head. I can’t do it while you’re around.”
“Okay,” Dean nods because it’s not like he didn’t expect the answer. “But you know, you could still - if you get bored in Washington and you want someone to talk – just text me. I promise I won’t contact you unless you write me first.”
“You remember that.”
“I remember what?”
“That she lives in Washington. “
“Yeah,” Dean nods. “Course I do. She’s your granny.”
“I never mentioned her more than in passing.”
“Which part about me being in love with you didn’t you get?” Dean chuckles though it’s a mirthless laugh. “I actually listen when you talk, you know. And not just when you’re giving me orders.”
Cas stretches out a hand, softly puts his fingers on the wristband Dean was playing with. He makes sure not to touch the skin beneath. “You didn’t take it off.”
“It was a present,” Dean says, voice already defensive. “You can’t order me to take it off.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Cas sighs. Then he shakes his head like he knows he’s doing something stupid and fumbles in his pocket. His hand comes back out with his keys. He holds them up for Dean to see.
The matching leather wristband is dangling from the keychain.
Dean blinks at it. But it doesn’t disappear, it stays solidly right where it is, cradled in Cas’ palm. “You didn’t throw it away.”
“No,” Cas shakes his head. “I wanted to, for a while there. But I didn’t. And now I want to keep it.” He runs his fingers over the leather, lets the band glide between his fingers. It’s a firm hold, the leather not slipping away. At the same time, it’s endlessly gentle.
Dean shivers just watching it. Then he swallows hard. “Is it ridiculous?” he asks, voice rough. “To have hope?”
It takes a long time before Cas answers. But when he does, he has the leather band clasped tightly in his hand and he meets Dean’s eyes and there’s even something like a small smile curling around the corners of his mouth.
“No, Dean. Hope is never ridiculous.”