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Dean can’t sleep after ringing in the New Year at midnight. He tries for a few hours and then gives up, deciding his time would be better spent doing something productive rather than fighting his insomnia. He doesn’t actually do anything productive but the sentiment is there. He fetches a beer from the fridge and joins Cas in the library where he’s reading.
“Hello Dean,” he says, not bothering to ask why he’s still awake. He knows better than that by now.
“Hey Cas,” he replies and then they’re silent for a few minutes. Dean keeps his eyes scanning Cas’ face idly. He really is beautiful when he’s focused. The way his blue eyes flutter while he reads, the way his large, tanned hands flip the pages, the way he sits straight up in his chair with squared shoulders.
Dean clears his throat to bring himself out of his own thoughts.
“I can help you sleep,” Cas suggests, a bit of an edge in his voice.
“Tryin’ to get rid of me, man?”
“No, Dean. You need to rest. When was the last time you slept?”
“Last night. Got my four hours. I’m fine,” he answers.
Then Cas is in front of him, bracing himself on the table with one arm and using the other to touch Dean’s forehead with two fingers. Dean feels Cas’ grace flow into his head and disperse throughout his body.
“It’s not gonna work,” he protests.
“Then let’s go somewhere else.”
With that, Cas grasps Dean’s shoulders and suddenly they’re on a beach and he’s cold. Dean shoves his hands in his pockets as the scent of salt water envelopes him. It’s still pretty dark and he can see stars over the ocean. Cas is standing impossibly still next to him and staring out at the water.
“Where the hell did you take me?” Dean asks, and it’s more of a demand than a question.
“This is a public beach in Delaware. I thought we could watch the sunrise. Humans like to pray for good fortune on New Year’s Day during this sunrise,” he explains, turning to face his friend.
“Well, for one, I’m not really the praying type,” Dean says and Cas opens his mouth to dispute but Dean continues. “Prayers to you don’t count. And for two, the sun won’t be up for at least another hour. And, Cas, it’s fucking cold out here. I’m not dressed for this. I don’t even have a coat.”
“That’s an easy fix,” Cas says as he grabs Dean’s hand, pulling it from his pocket. He flinches at first but relaxes into the touch when he feels the cold melt away. This isn’t the first time he’s held his hand to do some magical angel shit. He knows Cas doesn’t really understand what holding hands means so he usually lets it happen.
“Okay, well, what about the fact that the sun doesn’t come up for another hour or so?” he asks.
“We can take a walk,” he suggest.
“Romantic,” Dean scoffs, but his heart flutters despite himself. Watching the sunrise, holding hands, taking a walk on the beach? Are they on some kind of angelic date?
“Or we could find a bench,” Cas offers, but he seems dejected. Dean sighs and shakes his head, concealing an amused smile in the darkness.
“We can take a walk first,” he says but then Cas is shaking his head.
“It’s okay. We can walk later,” he replies and Dean’s not sure why he changed his mind. He’s too tired to care.
It doesn’t take long to find a bench. Although this one is rickety and old, it’ll hold up for now. They sit side by side, too close for Dean’s usual comfort but Cas is already holding his hand so he doesn’t scoot away. Before he realizes it, he’s dozing off and leaning his head on Cas’ shoulder. He tries to stay awake, flicking his eyes open and trying to focus on objects in the distance, but he eventually closes his eyes as they grow impossibly heavy. He doesn’t know if it’s the salty breeze or the sound of the waves or the way Cas is rubbing his thumb over his hand but he’s perfectly content the moment he drifts into a light slumber.
It lasts about an hour, dreamless and safe, before Cas gently nudges him awake for the sunrise.
“It’s starting,” he says quietly when Dean looks up at him with confused, tired eyes.
Cas is unbelievably beautiful in the soft light of the morning. His tanned skin is glowing as golden as the sun on the horizon. His eyes reflect orange and yellow like the ocean before them.
Dean’s eyes drift to Cas’ lips and suddenly he can’t control his urges anymore. He cranes his neck up from where he’s leaning on Cas to place a kiss on his mouth and then shifts so he’s sitting straight up, cupping Cas’ chin. It’s soft and sweet and familiar, like kissing Cas is the most natural thing in the world.
When Dean opens his eyes, he’s completely missed the sunrise over the water and decides to watch Cas’s eyes instead.
“I love you,” Dean blurts out, his heart hammering in his ears. Cas isn’t shocked even though Dean can’t believe he just said that.
“I love you, Dean. I always have. From the moment I pulled you from hell, I’ve loved you. I won’t stop loving you for as long as this universe exists. When you die, wherever you go, I’ll be there. I love you more than anything, Dean,” Cas confesses and then Dean is kissing him again.
Then they’re in Dean’s room, laying on Dean’s bed.
“Please sleep so we can have a real conversation about this later,” Cas urges. The promise of talking about feelings later doesn’t help him drift off but Cas’ strong arm around him sure does.
This was definitely some kind of angelic date, Dean thinks as he falls asleep again in the arms of the angel he loves.
This new year might be okay.