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“What crawled up your ass and died?” Sam said when Dean skulked into the kitchen, scowling something fierce.
“Nothing,” Dean muttered. He poured himself a cup of coffee, slamming the coffee pot down harder than was necessary.
“Uh huh.” Sam crossed his arms. “Right. And I’m the Queen of England.”
Dean didn’t say anything for a long while; not until he’d drained his cup of coffee and had refilled his cup. “Has Cas…fuck, has he been acting weird to you?” he finally said slowly.
“Weird how? I’ve barely seen him, which isn’t really that unusual.”
“No, I mean –” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “He’s…not even pissed. I was expecting him to be furious about that ‘flirting with Daphne’ stuff, y’know? Which was totally unintentional –”
“Right, because flirting with pretty women is ever unintentional with you,” Sam snorted. Dean glowered into his coffee.
“I mean,” he said, “that I’m naturally flirty, sure, but I never woulda kept puttin’ my hands on her like – like some kinda creepy frat fuckboy, even if I wasn’t with Cas. Like, I dunno, it sorta felt like the cartoon just…amped everything up to eleven, you get me?”
“You do have a point,” Sam said slowly. “Cas was even snarkier than he normally is. And then he smiled at Shaggy and Scooby. Don’t get me wrong,” he added hastily when Dean side-eyed him. “I know he does smile. Sometimes. It just felt…over the top. Cheesy. And I…I felt a bit off too.”
“Okay, now that we’ve established that,” Dean said. “I thought he would’ve been pissed and I’d have to explain and then we’d have hot, angry make-up sex.”
“Which is something I could’ve gone my whole life without hearing,” Sam muttered. Dean pretended he hadn’t heard that.
“But he’s – he’s just been ignoring me.” He shook his head. “Nah, not even that. Ignoring me would imply he’s around me enough to pretend I don’t exist. He’s – fuck, he’s avoiding me.”
“Where is he now?” Sam said.
“His room. I heard him watching Netflix on your laptop.”
“Uh…then go and talk to him.”
“I can’t!” Dean resisted the urge to toss his mug into the sink. It’d be satisfying, sure, but it was his Princess Leia mug, and he sure as fuck wasn’t tempting fate with that. Carrie Fisher would probably descend from the heavens and fuck his shit up, Charlie on her heels. “Every time I try, he makes some excuse and hightails it outta there! And he doesn’t even look pissed. He – Jesus fuck, Sammy, he looks scared. And I dunno what the hell I coulda done to scare him like that.”
Instead of putting his bitchface back on, Sam actually looked thoughtful. “He keeps avoiding you?” he said. “Right. I know how to get you into his room. C’mon.”
Dean followed Sam down the hall to Cas’ room.
“Cas?” Sam knocked on the door. “It’s me. Just wondering if I could have my laptop back? Just wanna look for cases till we can find out where Lucifer is and get his grace for the spell.”
Dean held his breath. Just as he was starting to write this off as a lost cause and go back to sulking in solitude, the door creaked open and Sam slid inside, shaking his head at Dean. Dean huffed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, but he didn’t have to wait long for Sam to emerge, laptop in hand. Before Dean could even react, Sam had grabbed him and shoved him into the room, then yanked the door shut behind him.
“Talk your shit out!” Sam yelled through the door. Dean shot a glare over his shoulder, then turned back to the bed, where Cas was frozen and staring at Dean with wide eyes. Okay, so there was something clearly up with him, but Dean still felt anger simmering in his stomach.
“What the fuck, Cas?” he demanded, taking a step towards the bed. Cas twitched, like he was going to curl in on himself but stopped at the last second. “Why’ve you been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t,” Cas said straight away, almost on autopilot. Dean would’ve laughed at how many of his bad habits Cas had picked up if the situation wasn’t so tense.
“Bullshit. Look, if I fucked up with Daphne, I’m sorry. Just – childhood crush, and I got excited, and I think the cartoon amped everything up ‘cause I never would’ve kept touching her like that –”
“I’m not mad about Daphne,” Cas said quietly. Dean spread his hands.
“Then why are you pissed at me? Just wanna know what I did wrong, man.”
“I’m not…pissed.” The curse word sounded foreign and heavy on Cas’ tongue. “You didn’t do anything…wrong.”
Dean latched onto Cas’ hesitation. “I did something, didn’t I? What’d I do? C’mon, man, I gotta know.”
Cas’ eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but Dean. Dean took a deep breath to try and reign in his temper, because losing his shit at Cas was the last thing that needed to happen.
“It’s…Dean, it’s nothing you did.” Cas took a deep breath, even though he (maybe?) didn’t need to breathe. “Or at least, it’s nothing you did intentionally.” He ran a hand down his face. Dean was suddenly struck by just how weary Cas looked. “I’m not explaining myself well.”
“You’re really not.” Dean sat down on the bed, reaching out to take Cas’ hand. The minute he brushed against Cas’ skin, however, Cas jerked back and hugged his knees to his chest quicker than the speed of light, burying his face in them.
“Dean –”
“Okay, seriously, the hell did I do?” Dean said. “‘Cause if you can’t even fuckin’ touch me, I’ve done something real shitty!”
Cas just trembled where he sat, refusing to look up at Dean. Belatedly, Dean realised that his voice had crept up in volume, and his shoulders slumped.
“‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “I just…fuck, Cas, the thought of me doin’ something to hurt you…” He winced when his voice cracked, but it seemed to do the trick because Cas looked up. His eyes were glistening rather suspiciously, so Dean focused on the angel’s fidgeting hands so he wouldn’t have to think about Cas crying and subsequently end up having a conversation about those kinds of feelings.
“You didn’t…hurt me.” Cas spoke very slowly, as though choosing every word with extreme care. “I just…I’ve been dealing with…well, flashbacks.”
“Flashbacks? To what?”
Cas’ shoulders slumped. “Dean, do you remember when I couldn’t leave the bunker after Rowena’s spell? When you got angry at me for being so useless?”
“I mean, you weren’t useless, and I’d still care about your ass even if you couldn’t fight,” Dean said, his stomach sinking. “But yeah, I remember.”
“Remember how I told you what Metatron said? About how – how I was – traumatised? Angry? And how I said that I…kept having flashbacks?”
“Yeah…” Dean said, biting his lip and hoping that this wasn’t going where he thought it was going. Cas lowered his eyes, clutching his knees tighter with trembling hands.
“It…wasn’t just Rowena’s spell that I was having flashbacks about.” Cas’ voice was a murmur, barely audible, but Dean was hanging onto his every word. “I…also…”
Before Dean could even react, Cas had sprung off the bed and was making a break for the door. But Dean was closer to it, so he was able to react and position himself in front of it before Cas reached it.
“Dean.” Cas’ voice was steady. Too steady, in fact. “Let me out.”
“No.” Dean crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s up.”
“Dean –”
“What else did you see, Cas? What else fucked you up to the point where you couldn’t leave the bunker? And how the fuck’s that got anythin’ to do with me?”
“Dean, please –” Tugging on his tie like he was trying to either choke himself or loosen it, Cas tried to slide around Dean, but Dean wouldn’t budge. He was keenly aware that Cas was an angel and could just manhandle him out of the way, but he was banking on Cas not wanting to hurt him because…well, he liked Dean for whatever goddamn reason.
Loved, Dean’s mind supplied. He resolutely ignored it. Now he just had to hope that Cas didn’t panic to the point of losing control over his mojo and blasting Dean out of the way.
“Also, why’s this shit affecting you now?” Dean said. “You’ve been fine for a year. Well, maybe not fine, but still –”
“It was you hitting me!” At his breaking point, Cas backed away from Dean and curled up on the bed again, once more burying his face. Dean followed him over but made no attempt to try and touch him like before. When Cas spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “You…with the Mark of Cain…beating me…”
Dean’s heart plummeted and dropped clean out of his body. “You – that – you had flashbacks of that?” he said through the bile rising in his throat. His words, spoken under a cloud of rage and blood, haunted his mind: “Next time, I won’t miss.”
“Yes.” Cas drew in a shuddering breath. Dean wondered if he was going to cry, then shoved that thought out before it could stick. “I…never wanted to tell you. I knew you had no control over your actions.”
“Bullshit.” Dean’s voice cracked. “I just didn’t care at that moment.”
“I knew you’d blame yourself, much like you’re doing now.” Cas’ shoulders started to shake. Holy shit, he was going to cry, Dean couldn’t handle this, please, for the love of Chuck, don’t let him cry. “I managed to finally exert some semblance of control over my mind. But…when I landed through the window in that curtain…and I saw you looming over me, ready to – to hit me…”
“Shit.” Cas’ bloody, resigned face swam before Dean’s eyes, and he tried to swallow around the nauseating lump in his throat. He couldn’t throw up. At least, not yet. The last thing Cas needed was for Dean to centre himself in this discussion. “And that’s why you don’t want me to touch you?”
“I know you won’t hurt me.” Cas’ words tumbled over each other in their haste to escape. “I know you wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me to hurt me when you’re in control of yourself.”
Dean opened his mouth to counter that he’d stabbed Cas when they’d first met, but quickly closed it. The last thing he needed was to give Cas shit when the angel was finally opening up.
“I know you wouldn’t touch me with anything other than love now,” Cas continued. “But…for a moment, having you loom over me violently…it…I couldn’t help but see…”
Instead of Cas’ bloody face, this time Dean saw his animated form, on the ground with a look of terror as he held a hand up in protection. Dean had thought he’d just been alarmed from being blinded and then attacked…but holy shit, he’d never once considered that Cas might have been – goddammit, triggered into a flashback. No wonder he hadn’t wanted Dean to touch him. Dean wouldn’t want to touch himself after that display of violence under the Mark.
“Sorry. ‘M sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” Cas said immediately. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You reacted appropriately to an unknown when in a dangerous situation. I – just – if I wasn’t so – so weak –”
“Whoa,” Dean interrupted. “Hell, no. You’re not fuckin’ weak, Cas. You can’t help it if your mind freaks out like that.”
“You’re not going to tell me to man up?” Cas’ voice dripped with sarcasm.
“The fuck? No way!” Dean said. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to have your mind fucking with you?” He reached out to run a hand up Cas’ arm but stopped. “I – can I touch you?”
Cas shook his head. Dean was about to start wallowing in pity and self-loathing like he always did, but Cas’ whole body started to shake before he could and then, lo and behold, Cas was crying. Jesus, Dean had never heard him cry before. It was so fucking surreal to hear that deep, gravelly voice choking out sobs; to see Cas, normally composed and graceful, curled up and rocking on the bed as he unravelled and lost control.
“Cas…” Dean wanted to reach out, to grab Cas, pull him into a tight hug and never let him go…but he couldn’t. Cas didn’t want Dean to touch him. Not that Dean could blame him, really. Considering that he broke everything he touched, it was a miracle Cas had even welcomed his touch in the first place. So all he could do was sit there helplessly, waiting for Cas to ride out this meltdown while fiddling with the hem of his shirt so he wouldn’t give in and touch Cas and freak the guy out.
Dean lost track of how long Cas lost it, but he was just wondering if he should give Cas some space when Cas jumped up and headed for the door. Dean sprang into action, ready to follow and make sure that Cas didn’t accidentally hurt himself in this state, but Cas didn’t even leave the room; instead, with a wild cry, he punched the wall hard enough to leave a fist-shaped indentation in it without cleanly breaking it.
“Cas?” Dean said, approaching with his hands up, making it clear that he wasn’t trying to touch. “Cas, hey –”
Cas whirled on him. For a fleeting moment, Dean half-expected Cas to just deck him in the face – and man, he wouldn’t have complained – but, to his surprise, Cas quite literally jumped him, clinging to him tightly and screaming into his shoulder.
“Cas, can I touch you?” Dean said. Cas nodded this time, still panting and shouting into Dean’s skin, even latching on and biting down hard as he trembled and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck as tightly as possible without strangling him or breaking his neck. Dean immediately slid one arm into Cas’ trench coat and suit jacket, resting a hand around Cas’ waist on top of the white shirt while gently stroking Cas’ hair with his other hand. Holy shit, there was no way this was just from Rowena’s spell and his attack. This had to be years of built-up shit that Cas was only now allowing to explode out like an atomic bomb of suppressed emotions.
Carefully, so as not to jostle Cas into an even worse breakdown, Dean guided them to the bed and let go of Cas just long enough to lie back against the pillows. But Cas remained clinging to him and just curled right up on top of Dean, crying and yelling into Dean’s shoulder. All Dean could do was just let Cas get it all out and offer even the little support of stroking his hair. He wasn’t sure if Cas was okay with being touched more than that and in Cas’ current state, he didn’t want to assume.
Eventually, Cas’ sobs died down to choked hiccups, then he went limp on top of Dean. Dean would’ve assumed Cas was asleep if not for his ragged breathing, to be completely honest.
“You ‘kay?” Dean murmured into his ear. Cas gave a tiny nod. “Can I kiss you?”
When Cas nodded again, Dean nuzzled into Cas’ hair and pressed a little kiss to his head. Cas made a small sound, then wriggled so that he was less on top of Dean and more snuggled into his side, resting his head on Dean’s chest rather than hiding his face in Dean’s shoulder.
“My apologies,” Cas croaked. “I didn’t mean to lose control of myself like that. Especially in front of you.”
“Sounds like it was a long time coming,” Dean said, trying not to sound like he was probing even though he totally was. Cas clearly wasn’t fooled for an instant. Oh well, that was what Dean got for having a profound bond with someone.
“Possibly,” Cas agreed. His voice was beyond tired and straight into blank, like any life had been sucked out of him. It broke Dean’s heart to hear his angel like this. “I suppose it was inevitable that everything would build up. There’s certainly a sort of irony in an angel having trauma like – like a human. Just a marker of how far I’ve fallen.”
“Mm.” Dean carded his fingers through Cas’ hair, earning a small groan in return. “Cas…shit, man, I’m so fucking sorry for what I did. Not just for the Mark crap but…your family hates your guts and it’s all my fault. I kept pushing you into –”
“Excuse me, who’s the one who just had a mental breakdown?” Cas said. “Wait your turn.”
Caught totally off-balance, all Dean could do was gape at Cas, then let out a sharp burst of laughter. “When’d you get a sense of humour?”
“I’ve been around you for too long,” Cas said. “And no, Dean, you’re not going to flagellate yourself over that. You’re not going to invalidate my choice and free will like that. Even knowing how bad things get, I’d choose to fall a thousand times over if it meant getting to have you like this.”
Something warm swooped in Dean’s belly and he couldn’t help but grin. Okay, that was so not fair. Cas couldn’t get away with saying that sort of stuff to him!
Guess again, sucker, his brain retorted.
“Sap,” Dean grumbled before dropping the smile. “Look, Cas…how d’you want the touching to go down from now on? I don’t wanna accidentally trigger ya by touching you when you don’t want.”
Cas hummed but Dean didn’t miss how he stiffened ever so slightly. Ah, there was the embarrassment of feeling weak. “I…you don’t have to ask,” he finally said. “Apart from when I’m having a breakdown or flashback, you never need to ask. But…I would appreciate knowing that you’re going to touch me.”
“Okay.” Dean bent down and gave Cas a quick kiss. “No sneaking up behind and no surprise touching. Can do.” He paused for a moment. “You think you’d be okay with me bein’ on top of you? Y’know, with how I was kinda looming over you and all…”
“It should be fine,” Cas said. “I’m not fragile, Dean. I was just caught off-guard.”
“Never said you were fragile. But you’d be doin’ the exact same if it was me, right?”
Cas looking away and refusing to answer gave Dean that tiny bit of victory. Not much, but goddamn he was going to savour it.
“Hey, on your back. I wanna try somethin’.”
“My apologies, Dean, but I…don’t think I’m up for that,” Cas said, but he still rolled off Dean and allowed Dean to straddle him. Something in his eyes flickered for the briefest moment, so Dean just paused.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna sex ya up after you just had a meltdown,” he said. “Dude, you’re really okay with me like this?”
“It’s a little alarming,” Cas admitted. “But I know you won’t hurt me. My body just doesn’t seem to have grasped that. What are you going to do?”
In response, Dean bent down to kiss Cas, unbuttoning the angel’s shirt. He only broke the kiss when he had to shuffle back and let Cas sit up to get the trench coat, suit jacket, white shirt, and tie off, followed by his shoes and socks.
“You wanna keep your pants on?” Dean said. “Comfier for ya?”
“At the moment, yes,” Cas said. Dean nodded but still fumbled to undo Cas’ belt, just for that extra layer of comfort. “Dean, what are you doing?”
“You’ll see.” Dean dropped the belt over the side of the bed and sat back to just drink in the sight of Cas’ lean, tan torso and arms. And those hipbones, Jesus Christ, those hipbones. Dean could write psalms about those hipbones and have them performed in churches across the world. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, man.”
A red flush spread across Cas’ face and down his neck and chest. “My vessel is objectively attractive,” he said, looking down at himself. Dean rolled his eyes.
“I’m talkin’ about you, dummy,” he said. “Yeah, all I can see of ya is your vessel, but it’s the way you carry yourself.” He leaned down so that his breath brushed across Cas’ lips, making the angel shiver. “It’s the way you’re always nibbling these damn lips and chapping them, even when I warn ya.”
Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Dean interrupted by kissing him squarely on the lips.
“And it’s those eyes,” Dean continued when he pulled back slightly. “They’re so bright and blue. I can’t see your true form, but I can see you in ‘em. Smart, brave, stubborn, infuriating, kind…shit, man, I could go on. Just…you.”
He both felt and heard Cas’ breath hitch when he kissed Cas on each eyelid. Cas made a funny sound, like he was trying to hold in a sob and a laugh at the same time.
“Dean, why are you doing this?” he said in a suspiciously wavering voice.
“Because I fuckin’ love you, genius,” Dean said. “And you need to hear this. I shoulda been sayin’ this shit to you years ago.”
“You – you don’t have to –”
“Nah. But I want to.”
Dean trailed kisses down Cas’ throat, then latched onto his pulse point and bit gently. Cas hissed before letting out a small, quivering moan as Dean sucked hard enough to leave what promised to be a nice, blossoming bruise.
“I like hearing and feeling your heartbeat,” Dean said against Cas’ skin. “Reminds me you’re alive. That I get to have you.”
When he kissed down Cas’ chest, he couldn’t help but smile at how rapidly it rose and fell underneath him, this time in pleasure instead of pain. He gently kissed Cas’ left nipple, resisting the urge to start licking and toying with it. This wasn’t meant to be arousing. That wasn’t what Cas wanted.
“And I like these,” Dean said after kissing Cas’ right nipple. Cas just made a choked sound, squeezing handfuls of Dean’s hair. “So damn sensitive. Always get ya fired up, don’t they, Cas?”
“Dean –” Cas whimpered.
“Shh.” Dean left wet kisses down each of Cas’ arms, paying special attention to each finger. “And your hands. Man, the things they do to me…killin’ the shit outta monsters but also touching me just…like…this.”
Dean trailed his own fingers down Cas’ ribs and sides, featherlight and gentle, then grabbed his hands again. Cas let out a funny kind of sob. When Dean looked up, he grinned at the sight of Cas with eyes squeezed shut and bottom lip between his teeth.
“Hey.” Dean very lightly slapped Cas on the side. “Eyes open. If you’re gonna try and escape and believe you don’t deserve shit, don’t use all the tricks I use.”
“So…infuriating,” Cas said breathily, but his eyes still fluttered open. Dean’s stomach twisted into a tight knot at the sight of the glazed blue looking back at him.
“That’s me, sunshine.” Dean let Cas’ hands fall back to the bed. “I’m a pain in everyone’s ass.”
“But you’re only in my ass,” Cas said. “Literally.”
Dean grinned, then bent down and planted a kiss right on Cas’ belly button. “I like your belly. ‘S smooth and warm. And –” he nipped at Cas’ left hipbone, “– these fuckin’ hipbones. I can’t get enough, man. I’m addicted to you.”
“I – I knew you only liked me for my hipbones,” Cas said, smiling weakly. But, rather than rising to the bait, Dean sat back up and looked Cas straight in the eye.
“I love you for you,” he said. “And…shit, I’m sorry for everything. Not just for the Mark and stuff, but…how I’ve treated you ever since we met. Dunno what you see in me. ‘M still fucking up, even flirting with cartoon characters –”
Cas grabbed Dean by the face and yanked him down into a messy, desperate kiss. Dean let out a surprised groan and cupped Cas’ face, and he was openly panting by the time they broke apart so that he could breathe.
“I thought we agreed that your behaviour in the cartoon was unable to be helped,” Cas said. He reached up and brushed strands of hair off Dean’s forehead. “And I forgive you for everything. I forgave you the moment you did those things, because I love you too.”
Body feeling like it was going to float away, Dean slid off Cas onto his back and let Cas snuggle up to him, nuzzling into the crook of Dean’s neck like he belonged there. Which really, he did.
“I still hate myself every day for beating you up like that,” Dean said quietly, one hand stroking Cas’ hair and the other idly running up and down his hot, bare back. “I – I still have nightmares about it. Seeing you like that, knowing you coulda decked me in a heartbeat but refused to lift a finger…even knowin’ that I only contributed to your trauma stuff…”
“Which is why I didn’t tell you,” Cas said. “I didn’t want you to constantly hurt yourself over something I’d already forgiven you for. I just…learned to deal with the fallout myself.”
Dean let out a harsh laugh. “You shouldn’t’ve had to! I should’ve been there for you! Least I could do after causing the shit…”
“Dean Winchester, shut your attractive mouth right now,” Cas muttered. Dean rolled his eyes, but he did as Cas said and shut up. “I forgave you because I love you, which is why I didn’t lift a finger to hurt you. I couldn’t after what – after what Naomi made me do. And too bad if you don’t feel like you deserve my forgiveness, because I say you do. Now, shut up and go to sleep. I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Aye aye, captain,” Dean mumbled, but he let the argument go and allowed his eyes to slide closed, relishing in the warmth in his arms and the soft, ticklish sensation of Cas drawing shapes on his chest.