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“we are.”
dean grips the door-frame, half in, half out of the room. his shoulders shake as if he’s laughing. cas can’t see the humor in it.
“no, we’re not, cas, have never been.”
dean looks like he wants to leave, shakes his head. he turns. four strides into cas’ space.
“we’re not. and you know how many times i told myself later, this is not the right moment, we’ve got to get through this catastrophe or that first. chuck made us hop through all these fucking hoops, and for what? for his amusement, because he was bored. we never stood a chance, cas. never had a choice.” his chest is heaving.
“we always have a choice,” cas answers. “right now we have a choice,” he adds. he lost heaven and jack and his faith and his wings. he might lose what little he still has very soon, but he puts his hand on dean’s shoulder, moves it up to his neck until his thumb brushes dean’s racing pulse.
“we are real,” he says again.
dean’s still mad at him, he knows, and dean’s mad at god and fate and the unfairness of it all. but cas missed chances, too, and he might not get another.
a hidden clock ticks away their precious time. the decision hangs in the stale air, suspended.
chuck might have taken everything else from them, maybe even led them here, but this choice is theirs alone, an act of free will in a world that might end any moment. cas sees the realization in dean’s eyes, right before they narrow in resolve. dean gives in with a wounded sound that seems to rip right from his chest, echoes through cas’ own.
a clash of lips, anticiptated, longed-for, feared for all it meant. it’s simple now that it’s there, a fact of warmth and rhythm and shared breath. the push and pull of bodies, basic physics and biology, atoms colliding,
and yet. nothing simple about it.
cas’ whole being is vibrating, every touch of dean’s hands a spark of joy, every lick of his tongue, every motion of dean’s body toward his own. they move as if they want to crawl into each other, hide each other where the world can’t touch them.
a thought comes crashing through the frenzy. cas pushes against dean’s chest, parts their mouths.
“whatever happens next, i need you to know i don’t regret any of it,” cas murmurs. dean nods, not really hearing him, impatient. they kiss again, and kiss and touch, and cas feels real, more real than he ever has. he gives himself over to it in the knowledge that dean will know, later, what he meant-