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It was a well known fact in their town, as well as the surrounding area, that Dean Winchester was a rather sought after catch, even though he was rumored to be a rake. His easy smile and handsome features and laughing green eyes drew the attentions of all the eligible ladies (as well as a few of the ineligible ones, much to the annoyance of their husbands), and his yearly income drew the attentions of all the mothers of the eligible ladies. But as many options as he had at his disposal, he was about to reach his twenty fifth year still a bachelor. His best friend and closest confidant, Castiel Shurley, could not comprehend how he had never once found a woman that suited his fancy.
“I will never understand how not a single girl has yet to catch your interest, Dean,” Castiel told him one day as they were walking through the gardens that the Shurley estate was well known for.
“Many of them were quite interesting,” Dean admitted, running his hand along one of the artfully trimmed hedges. “That I will not deny.”
“Yet you haven’t chosen any to properly court,” Castiel pointed out. “Even that one Braeden girl. Lila, wasn’t it?”
“Lisa,” Dean corrected him. “And yes, she was one of the more interesting ones. A nice face and very good with children. Quite pleasant to converse with, as well.”
“Yet you never tried to pursue her,” Castiel pointed out.
“She wasn’t what I wanted, what I was looking for,” Dean explained, slowing down his pace and stroking lightly at a rose blooming. He was careful to avoid the thorns, to the point of appearing to caress the flower tenderly.
“You must have impossibly high standards, then, if even Lisa couldn’t meet them with how fondly you just recalled her,” Castiel said, moving to stand next to his friend, who had now stopped completely to admire the rose beneath his fingers.
“High, yes, but not impossible,” Dean corrected him. He plucked the rose, avoiding the thorns, and held it gently in his hands. He had a look of regret on his face that Castiel couldn’t quite figure out the reasoning behind.
“Impossible, yet none have met them?” Castiel teased. His friend was bordering on melancholy, and Castiel couldn’t bear the thought of Dean feeling so down when he was there to cheer him up.
“One has,” Dean said softly, turning the rose this way and that in his hands.
“Ahh, so that’s the reason you haven’t started courting. Your heart already belongs to someone,” Castiel exclaimed, and Dean nodded, still staring intently at the red flower in his hands. Of course, now it all made sense. But who? “It wasn’t Lisa, so perhaps Cassie?” Dean shook his head no. “Joanna? Celeste? Pamela? Tessa?” Each name was met with another shake of Dean’s head.
“Not Bela?” Castiel asked in disgust, having run out of other possibilities. Miss Talbot was known to be selfish and poorly tempered, and would most likely drive whatever unfortunate soul who was fool enough to marry her into the poor house within a year.
“Lord no,” Dean finally responded, looking at Castiel as if he had grown a second head. “There is nowhere enough alcohol in this world to make me wish for that fate.”
“Then who, Dean?” Castiel asked, even more confused than before. “Who holds your heart so tightly that you can’t look past them to court another?”
Dean mumbled something, but it was so low that Castiel couldn’t make out what his friend has said. He gave Dean a hard look that didn’t need words, and his friend let out a long sigh. “You.”
“What?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side. He was sure of what Dean said this time, but there was no way he could have meant it. They were both men, and such things were unheard of.
“You, Cas,” Dean said, resorting to the childhood nickname that he had always used whenever the conversation had taken a turn to seriousness. “I…” He flushed and looked away, his face now greatly resembling the rose he was crushing in his fist. “I fell in love with you. Ages ago, possibly longer than that. Maybe I always loved you?”
“But Dean, two men together, it would be unseemly. Things like that just aren’t done.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, just as he had always been told, though he was starting to wonder whether or not he believed them himself. “They would call it unnatural, even.”
Dean whirled around. “You don’t think I know that, Cas?” He said, sounding broken. “You don’t think I’ve had those exact thoughts, over and over again? Thought of how wrong my feelings were for you? How our parents would never allow it, our neighbors and friends would condemn us? You don’t think I know these things to be fact?” Tears were splashing onto his shirt front as he spoke, making Castiel want to reach out to him, comfort him.
“No Dean,” he said instead, since he didn’t know how else to respond to such accusations
“I am helplessly in love with you, Cas, and there’s nothing that can be done for it,” Dean said, his posture collapsing in on itself in defeat. “Hate me if you will, never speak to me again, but that is the absolute truth. I love you, as a man is only supposed to love a woman.”
Castiel felt frozen to the spot, his mind racing with thoughts he had been repressing so long they had almost ceased to exist. But if Dean was brave enough to admit to them…
“I as well,” Castiel all but whispered. Dean looked up at him in surprise, his green eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“Cas?” One word, but with it Dean spoke everything needed.
“I’m less than a year younger than you, Dean, yet I remained unmarried as well,” Castiel spoke slowly, the thoughts and feelings new to him as well as Dean, but no less true. “Deep down, I think I knew that no woman could ever compare to you. Not one that I have met has ever even come close.”
“Really?” Dean asked in awe.
“You were my impossibly high standard that I judged them all by,” Castiel admitted. He could distinctly remember thinking things like her eyes look nice but aren’t near as lovely as Dean’s or Dean would tell that story in a much more entertaining way. He had always assumed it was because he wanted his wife to be his friend as well, but all this time what he had actually wanted was his friend.
“Cas,” Dean said as he stepped closer. He moved his hand only inches away from Castiel’s face and held it there, questioningly. When Castiel gasped, Dean smiled. “No one can see us here, the hedges are too high,” he assured him.
Castiel nodded his head slightly in invitation, and let out a pleased moan as Dean’s hand met his cheek. “Dean, we could never… this could never be anything,” he said sadly, and felt a tear trail down his own cheek.
“But maybe it could?” Dean whispered as he leaned his face closer.
“How?” Castiel wanted to believe him, more than anything, but he couldn’t see a way.
“We could move far from here, find a small cottage without busybody neighbors. We couldn’t be anything other than friends in public, but in private…” Dean didn’t elaborate, because he really didn’t need to.
“Would that work?” Castiel asked, afraid to hope.
“We would make it work,” Dean said, and Heaven help him, Castiel believed.
“I would… like that very much,” Castiel said slowly, trying to wrap his head around the events of the past few minutes.
“I would too,” Dean said, and leaned in those last few inches to place a soft kiss on Castiel’s lips. Castiel kissed him back, and prayed that this would work, even if it was wrong to want.