Archive of Our Own ^beta

“The course of true love never did run smooth.”
-- Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

“What do you idjits need now?” Bobby grumbled over the static of the cell phone.

Dean let the insult slide over him as he always did. “It’s Cas. We were fighting some witches and he was hit by a spell, and now he’s not moving.”

He sounded calm when he told Bobby the news, but as his eyes drifted over to Castiel lying on the motel bed motionless, he felt a curl of dread unfurling in his gut. Sam was similarly affected - he was sitting on the bed opposite of Castiel, staring at him and wringing his hands.

“Angels can be affected by spells? Well, I’ll be,” Bobby said gruffly. “He’s just unconscious? Nothing else wrong with him?”

“He looks like he’s sleeping, angels aren’t supposed to sleep.” It was unsettling, seeing Castiel look so... human. It reminded him of a certain trip to the future that he wanted to forget. “But other than that, no. We tried everything to wake him up too, but nothing has worked.”

Bobby snorted. “Sounds like a real Sleeping Beauty.”

“What? Dude, no. This isn’t a fairytale, he isn’t gonna be woken up by a kiss or whatever.” The thought of someone kissing Castiel--of someone being his true love--tied a knot in his stomach, and he gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable sensation.

“You never know, witches have a sense of humor. But I’ll do some research, see what I can dig up.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said and then hung up. He then looked at Sam, who was now watching him. “What?”

“Does Bobby really think he could be awakened with a kiss?” Sam looked perplexed but also disturbingly thoughtful, and--no. He had to shut that down now.

“He was just joking, jeez Sam, don’t look so eager to kiss him, I knew you were gay.” He couldn’t resist the jab at Sam’s sexuality, though his words came out with a little more force than usual.

Sam rolled his eyes, not rising to the bait. “I’m just saying, we should be trying everything we can to wake him up, or he might be like this forever.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of Castiel never waking up, but he ignored it and spat out, “No, not this.” Desperate to change the subject, he brightened and said: “Hey, maybe we could try putting his hand in warm water.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at the diversion, but he allowed it. “Dean, we already tried that.”

“Maybe the water wasn’t warm enough!” He said with glee as he went to grab the bucket. Sam just sighed and followed him.

Four days later, Castiel was still lying motionless on the bed. Before, Castiel had just looked asleep, but now all Dean saw when he looked at him was death. He knew he wasn’t dead, but Castiel was supposed to be up and staring at him, getting all into his personal space, and growling at him. He wasn’t supposed to be motionless on a bed. The more time passed, the more he couldn’t handle it, so he called Bobby. “Got any news?”

“Hello to you too,” Bobby muttered before saying, “None good. There’s surprisingly little lore on spells that make victims fall asleep, aside from all the fairytales like Sleeping Beauty.”

Dread settled in his stomach. “You’re not saying...”

“I don’t know, boy. It might be the only shot you’ve got.”

“No way. There has to be something you’ve overlooked.”

Bobby sighed. “I’ll look again, but if you’re that desperate to not kiss him, maybe you should ask another angel.”

“Another angel? Like... like Gabriel? Aw hell no, Bobby, I don’t want to deal with that douchenozzle again.”

This time Bobby practically growled into the phone and Dean jumped despite himself, not expecting it. “I’m sorry, princess, did you want some quick and easy solution? Tough shit, this is what we got so suck up your pride and deal with it, Dean.” Dean was stunned into silence so Bobby continued in a calmer tone, “I’ll let you know if I find anything else, but don’t call and whine again.”

Feeling thoroughly reprimanded, Dean only managed to say thanks before Bobby hung up. Sam caught the look on Dean’s face and laughed. “He got you good this time, didn’t he?”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean mumbled. He looked back to Castiel lying on the bed. Even with not exactly encouraging news, the phone call eased some of his anxiety, so Dean didn’t see death in Castiel’s face. His face looked peaceful, a look he had never seen on his face before. It... suited him. If you looked past the fact that he was an angel, a dude angel at that, who shouldn’t be sleeping, he was almost... beautiful.

Dean shook his head. Crap, he really was buying into this fairytale bullshit. He needed a drink.

Sam looked between Castiel and Dean and asked, “So, what did Bobby say?”

“He said to either do the... kiss thing...,” he mumbled under his breath quickly, “or ask Gabriel.”

“Seriously? Wow.” Sam blinked a few times, then looked back at Castiel. “If Bobby thinks we should be doing this, then we should do it, Dean.”

Dean snorted. “Great idea, Sammy, how are we gonna find chicks willing to kiss a random, comatose stranger?” Admittedly, Castiel was kinda hot in his own way, so it might not be too hard... but Dean would never say that out loud.

Sam gave him a weird look. “You really think some random woman would be his True Love? Dean, he’s only talked to hunters and supernatural creatures. With his grasp on humanity, you really think he’d find love with someone outside of all this?”

This riled Dean up. “Hey! What are you implying about Cas?”

Sam put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Nothing, Dean. I just think it’s more likely that he’d respond to someone he knows. Like...,” he gulped, “Like us.”

Dean’s mind blanked out for a moment at the thought of kissing Castiel. But then he realized Sam also included himself, and he couldn’t miss that opportunity. “Aww, Sammy, is this a confession? Do you looove him?” He really, really hoped that he was wrong.

Sam scowled. “No. But we have to try. Cas deserves at least that much.” He walked over to the bed and sat carefully on the edge of it.

“Wait, seriously? Just like that?” Dean blurted out, not wanting to see this. Not at all.

Sam gave him a Look. “Yes, Dean. How else would I do it?”

Dean realized he couldn’t figure out what exactly his objection was--other than seeing his baby brother kiss anyone, but after all the times they had walked into each other having sex, simple kissing is nothing--so while Dean tried to come up with something to say to stop this from happening, Sam ignored Dean’s inner turmoil and leaned over Castiel anyway. Sam paused over him as if he was just realizing what he was doing, but he then leaned down the rest of the way and kissed him.

Nothing, at first. But then... Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. Castiel’s fingers had just twitched. And Sam noticed it too. “Holy shit,” Sam said, clearly nervous, and eyed Dean. “Isn’t the True Love’s kiss thing supposed to be instantaneous?”

“I don’t know, girly fairytales are your division Sam, not mine.” He aimed for dismissive but only hit disturbed, as images kept flashing in his mind--Sam, as Castiel’s True Love, getting married and having weird angel babies. The thought made him sick.

Sam huffed, annoyed. “Maybe it works differently with angels. I should... kiss him again,” he said slowly, appearing remarkably calm at the idea of being Castiel’s True Love. Dean wanted to shake him.

Sam kissed him again, a little longer this time. They waited with bated breath, and this time Castiel’s whole hand moved. Sam let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can keep kissing him with such slow results. You should try, Dean.”

His stomach somersaulted. “What, you don’t want to keep kissing your one true love? I’m disappointed in you, Sam. Though you knew how to treat a lady... er... person better than that.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Dean, I’m serious.” He sat up from the bed and stepped away, giving Dean ample room to take his place. Dean gulped but walked over anyway. He could kiss him and get it out of the way, and then Sam could continue kissing Castiel until he woke up and they could live nerdily ever after.

The thought shouldn’t have made him as miserable as it did.

He sat on the bed and leaned over him. He paused for a moment, but then thought, Fuck it, and kissed him. He lingered for a bit, waiting for something to happen, but he eventually pulled off. Castiel was still, and disappointment gripped his heart hard which, no, he didn’t even want to be his True Love, this was ridiculous--

Suddenly, Castiel’s eyes opened wide, looking directly into Dean’s. “Holy shit,” breathed Dean, his heart beating like crazy.

“Hello, Dean.” The gravelly voice sounded warm, even affectionate, and he also smiled. The smile made something loosen in Dean’s chest. He looked over to Sam. “Sam.”

Sam, just as stunned as Dean, managed to say “Hi, Cas. Uh... was that really a True Love spell?”

“Yes. It was an invention of one of the Cupids. It was only a matter of time before a witch came across it. I should have a word with him though. It wasn’t supposed to affect angels.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? No way. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“When does Cas ever joke?” Sam said around laughter he was trying but failing to keep muffled.

“Hey, he responded to you too, you know!”

Sam stopped laughing, and Dean almost counted it as a victory, but then Sam said, “Yeah, but he woke up because of you, Dean!” He started laughing again while Dean glared. He managed to say, “When’s the wedding?” in between laughs.

“Marriage is not required. I am content with just this knowledge.” The brothers looked back at Castiel and saw that he was, of course, serious.

Dean was flustered. “What knowledge, exactly? Cause I think it made a mistake. I mean, I’m straight, and you’re an angel, what would you want with a human anyway?”

This made Castiel angry. He stood up from the bed and pushed himself into Dean’s personal space, glaring intensely. “Don’t presume to speak for me, Dean. Deny your own feelings as you please, but I have always loved you.”

Dean’s jaw dropped again. A few feet behind them, Sam laughed nervously. “I think I’ll go and... get some food... be back later!” He ran out of the motel room and the door slammed behind him, but Dean didn’t hear any of it.

The words echoed in his head. “I have always loved you.” Dean couldn’t breathe. He should be saying something pithy right now, but how could he, with that bomb dropped on him? “How... how can you say that, Cas? You can’t mean that. You’ve seen me in Hell--”

Dean was interrupted by Castiel pushing him up against the wall. He was even more furious now. “Don’t tell me what I mean, Dean. You taught me to think and feel for myself, and I choose to love you. I love you because you are the Righteous Man, and the brightest soul I’ve ever seen. You are worth so much more than you realize.”

This was too much for Dean. He didn’t deserve to hear such words from anyone, much less an angel of the Lord. “I... I can’t, I’m sorry. It’s too much.” He couldn’t look him in the eye, too afraid of what he might find there.

Castiel’s expression turned sad, and he tilted his head. “You do deserve to be loved, Dean. But if that is what you wish...,” he trailed off and stepped back. He looked away. “I should return to my search.” He fidgeted awkwardly--such a painfully human gesture, and it just reminded him of minutes earlier, when Castiel was out cold to the world.

It had freaked him out really bad, more than he let on to Sam. Even if he did have big gay feelings for Castiel, for them to become something more... he could barely manage to stay afloat as it was. If he accepted what Castiel was offering, he would drown.

So Dean stayed silent, and when he heard the unmistakable sound of wings flapping, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and turned on the TV, determined to not think about it. This was for the best. It was.

Sam returned a few hours later. Instead of walking in, he knocked. Dean rolled his eyes at Sam’s presumption, but he got up and opened the door. Sam looked behind Dean into the motel room. “Is it safe to come in?”

“Nothing happened, Sam,” Dean stalked back to his bed without a glance back, so he missed the surprise on Sam’s face.

“Really? Nothing happened? Even though...,” Sam stopped himself, as the truth of the situation dawned on him. “He told you he loves you, and in typical Dean fashion you pushed him away. That’s what happened, isn’t it?”

Dean flinched. “‘Typical Dean fashion’? Really Sam? Thanks a lot.”

Sam laughed, without humor. “What, are you saying it’s not true? Did something else actually happen?”

He hated it when Sam was so infuriatingly right. He would never verbally admit to it though, so instead, he looked back at the TV and forced a grin. “Hey look, Sam, it’s your favorite show! Girls sitting around and talking about their feelings!”

Sam scoffed in disbelief. “You’re a moron.” Dean could tell that he actually meant it too, and it hurt. But what did Sam know anyway? He wasn’t Castiel’s “True Love”.

“You’re a moron,” he mumbled under his breath. Sam huffed a laugh, and that was the end of it. For now.

The next time Castiel dropped by, he didn’t stare at Dean. At all. All of that intense energy was focused on Sam, who squirmed under his gaze. In fact, Dean noticed with suspicion, he seemed to like it.

At first, Sam was obviously tense and uncomfortable; of course, Castiel was oblivious. Sam’s eyes kept flicking back to Dean as if Sam was expecting Castiel to turn his attention to Dean at any moment. When it stayed on him, however, he relaxed a little. When there was a pause in the conversation, Sam actually smiled at him. Not his polite, placate-the-boring-person smile, but a real smile. And Castiel had a ghost of a smile on his lips in response, and Dean was torn between being pleased that Castiel was smiling, and angry that it wasn’t because of him.

He was so focused on watching them that he lost track of their actual conversation, so he started with surprise when Sam asked, “Dean, what do you think?”

For the first time that day, Castiel’s eyes were on him, and Dean had forgotten what a vibrant shade of blue they were. He thought he missed having those eyes on him, which was such a disgustingly sappy thought that he needed to think about something else, pronto.

He grinned his most charming grin and said, “Run that by me again, please?”

Sam stared, then laughed. “Did you listen to anything we said at all?”

“Of course I did! You were talking about... the case!” That was always a safe bet.

Castiel glared at him. “This is not a game. If you are not going to take this seriously, then just leave. I can tell Sam everything.”

For an irrational second, Dean felt like Castiel was replacing him with Sam, and he just could not let that happen. “No, I’m staying. Everything you tell Sam, you tell me.” Sam shot him a weird look, but Dean was too focused on staring Castiel down.

“Fine,” Castiel finally said, looking away from Dean to focus his attention back on Sam. Dean felt oddly bereft. They continued the discussion, and with Dean actually participating, they quickly figured out a plan of attack against the demons plaguing the town. When another lull in the conversation occurred, Dean saw Castiel getting antsy, clearing planning on flying away. Despite the awkwardness between them, Dean wanted him to stay a little longer.

Clearly, so did Sam, because he beat him to the punch. “Hey, wait, Cas, stay, I have something to ask you anyway.” He said the last sentence hesitantly, which made Dean instantly worried about what Sam had in mind.

Castiel seemed pleased that Sam wanted him to stay, and no, Dean was totally not jealous. “Alright, Sam. What is it?”

Sam breathed in, glancing at Dean guiltily, before looking back at Castiel. “When you were under that curse, you... responded to me. Not like you did with Dean, but you still moved when you weren’t moving before. Why is that?”

Dean was thrown. Was Sam actually asking him that? He was asking that now? He had been curious too, of course, but he didn’t want to think about it. If Sam was asking about it, though, that meant he was thinking about it. Why would Sam be thinking about this?

Castiel blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “I care for you deeply, Sam. The curse must have sensed that.”

Sam flushed from the admission, and... wait, what? Dean couldn’t believe his eyes, but it was true, Sam had a little more color to his face now. “Thanks, Cas. But if I had kept kissing you, would you have woken up?”

Sam was asking if he could’ve been Castiel’s True Love. Distressingly, Castiel wasn’t laughing it off (or whatever Castiel’s equivalent would have been)--no, he was tilting his head, looking thoughtful.

Way too thoughtful, in Dean’s opinion. This could not be happening. He had to stop this now. “What the hell, Sam?!” he yelled.

Sam flinched, as if he had been under a trance--under a trance because of Castiel’s eyes and, oh God, this had to stop, this was so wrong--and glared at Dean. “I know you’re curious too, Dean, don’t deny it!”

“There’s curious, and then there’s asking him if he’s in love with you!”

“I don’t mind,” Castiel cut in, “It is a good question. One that I don’t have the answer to.”

It took Dean a moment to process what Castiel meant, but once he did, he saw red. He was so angry he didn’t think for a second about what he was saying. “Are you saying that it’s actually possible?! But I’m your True Love!”

Both Sam and Castiel looked shocked at the outburst, and once his words caught up with him, Dean was a little embarrassed. Before he could take it back, though, Castiel’s shock sharpened into anger. “You claim that title so easily, and yet refuse to love me. Do you just wish to control me?”

Dean was taken aback by what he thought was a non-sequitur. “What? Of course not!”

Castiel wasn’t placated. “Are you sure? Because you refuse the personal investment and responsibility in accepting my love, and yet you are demanding that I only love you. You don’t get to have it both ways. Figure out what you want, or stop wasting my time.” Dean blinked, and Castiel was gone.

Dean’s mind devolved into a mantra of “shit, shit, shit...” because that went spectacularly badly. Clearly in the mood to make it even worse, Sam whistled low. “Damn, Dean, you really messed that up.”

Dean glared at him. “What the hell was up with those questions, Sam? You don’t even like him!” Sam looked away, not meeting Dean’s eyes, and his stomach dropped. “No. Way. Sam, you told me you didn’t like him!”

“I don’t know what I feel,” Sam admitted, and Dean felt it like a punch. He thought Sam would’ve denied it. “I don’t think you’ve ever noticed how focused he is on you all the time, Dean. He rarely pays any attention to me, and I never blamed him. Being the center of his attention was... nice. That’s all.”

A visceral part of Dean was scared, and his mind was once again flooded with images of Sam and Castiel getting married and living happily without him. But... it was Sam. If Sam wanted him, then by God, Dean would do everything in his power to make sure that Sam got him.

Dean’s heart pounded as he said, “Hey, he couldn’t answer your question. That’s a good sign, right? You have a shot!”

Sam looked at him as if he had been replaced by an alien. “Dean... he loves you. And you were angry about this not even ten minutes ago!”

He was still a little angry, but what he felt was not important anymore. “That was before I knew you wanted him!”

Sam’s face softens. “Dean, do you love him?”

He should’ve seen that coming. He scoffed. “No, Sam, do I look like a girl to you?”

This seemed to piss Sam off. “Can you for once just drop the macho act and be honest? You have nothing to prove to me--nor to Cas!”

Dean winced. He knew it was true, though he never wanted to give up the satisfaction of calling Sam girly. That was just his God-given right as his older brother. He let out a sigh and pointedly looked away from Sam. “I don’t know, Sam, alright? I don’t know. Conversation over.”

He headed towards the kitchen, planning on grabbing a beer. Sam called out to him. “Dean!”

“Over!” Dean yelled back, not even looking back at him. Make that two beers.

A couple of days later, Dean and Sam had just walked into a motel after the end of a long case when Sam’s phone buzzed. Sam fumbled to grab the phone out of his pocket, and then frowned when he looked at the message. He hesitantly said, “It’s... Cas. He asked for our location, he has another case for us.”

Now, there was nothing unusual about Castiel texting them for their location, since he could no longer track them with his angel mojo. What was unusual, however, was that Castiel was texting Sam instead of Dean. Dean’s already sour mood plummeted at the realization of what just happened. “Oh, great, we just finished a damn case for him and now he wants us to do another one?! Why can’t he do this shit himself, he’s an angel for crying out loud!”

Sam looked up sharply from his phone to glare at Dean. “After all he’s done for us, it’s only fair for us to help him in return. You of all people should know that, Dean.”

Dean did know that. He knew that Castiel had lost everything in order to help them. That reminder only served to intensify the twisting in his gut.

Instead of waiting for a response from Dean, Sam quickly texted Cas the motel address. A second later, Castiel appeared before them and immediately looked at Sam. “Hello Sam,” he says warmly, in yet another aberration from normal--Castiel always greeted Dean first. After an agonizing beat, he finally glanced towards Dean, and with an even more monotone voice than normal, said, “Dean.”

Dean scoffed while clenching his fist. He could feel the toxic feelings bubbling up and over without any way of stopping them. “Why hello Cas, what new crap do you want us to do for you now?”

“Dean!” Sam yelled in admonishment.

Castiel glared at Dean in full force and moved into Dean’s personal space intimidatingly. “This ‘crap’ is about saving people’s lives. Or do you no longer care about anyone other than yourself?”

Dean was fuming. “Of course I care about saving people Cas, what the hell!” Dean looked like he was about to swing a punch.

Sam’s eyes widened as he stepped forward to break them apart. “Okay you guys I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot here, how about we just talk about the case?”

Castiel swiftly stepped away from Dean. “You’re right, Sam, we should talk about the case,” he said coolly, then gave Dean a pointed look. “You may want to step outside so you don’t have to hear about this ‘crap’,” he remarked dryly, even making air quotes with his hands.

“Like hell, I will, Cas! You’re not getting rid of me that easy. So please,” Dean said this last word in a deeply sarcastic tone, “tell us all about the case.”

Castiel didn’t respond directly to Dean, instead directing everything about the case to Sam. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. This time around, Sam was not enjoying being the focus of Castiel’s attention--he stood anxiously, eyes flitting back and forth often between Dean and Castiel, clearly uncomfortable. Dean was desperately trying to focus on the details of the case in order to quell his urge to punch Castiel in the face for what he said earlier and now for calmly acting as if nothing happened.

Once they had all the details down, Dean expected Castiel to immediately vanish. Instead, he seemed to have something else up his sleeve. “By the way, Sam,” he began, carefully not acknowledging Dean’s continued presence in the room, “I did some research on the curse. It turns out you may have been right. I am not sure how long it would have taken, but it is possible it could have worked.”

Sam blinked, confused, while Dean staggered back as if he had been physically slapped. “How is that possible?!” Dean bellowed, “Doesn’t that fairytale shit say you only have one true love?”

Castiel looked at Dean and frowned in confusion. “Multiple people in the course of a person’s life have the potential to become their true love. Who that person turns out to be is mostly a result of circumstance. If events had played out differently, it might not have been you who woke me up.” Castiel didn’t spell it outright, but the meaning is clear.

Instantly all of Dean’s anger dissipated, replaced by a cold feeling of despair. He was a fool for ever believing for a moment that he could possibly be Castiel’s true love. Maybe the only reason Sam wasn’t able to wake him up is that Castiel hadn’t spent enough time with him yet--but surely Castiel would easily come to love Sam, much more than he could ever love Dean.

Sam, who was well-versed in reading Dean’s mood shifts, noticed something was wrong right away. “Well uh, that’s certainly interesting, Cas,” he said delicately, “but that’s not really important, is it? What matters is the here and now. Dean was able to wake you up right away, so…” Sam trailed off.

“Of course, that’s still true,” Castiel said to Sam, and then addressed Dean, oblivious to his sinking mood. “I thought it might comfort you to know you do not need to shoulder the burden of my love alone anymore if it bothers you that much.” With that, Castiel disappeared with a flutter of wing beats.

Immediately Sam turned to Dean. “I am so sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I had known he would answer like that…”

Dean pulled on a blank mask to cover his stormy feelings. “Why would you be sorry, Sam? Man, I’m beat. I’m gonna hit the hay.” Dean turned and headed toward the bathroom to get ready. Sam knew it was futile to try to talk to Dean now, so he just sighed and started getting ready too.

The next day was spent entirely on the road to the destination of their new case. At the beginning of the drive, Sam attempted to bring up what happened the night before, but Dean responded by turning up the volume of the music. So much for that.

Dean’s thoughts while driving were tumultuous. The conversation with Castiel from last night was playing in his mind on repeat.

It was obvious what Castiel was implying--that he could have fallen in love with Sam instead. So why then, exactly, did he fall in love with Dean? Dean kept wracking his brain for any memories that could possibly explain this but came up with nothing. Just the phenomenal mistake of raising Dean from Hell in the first place, and then getting repaid with a bunch of bullshit Castiel would be much better off without.

He knew that Castiel and Sam didn’t exactly meet under the best of circumstances--but there was that word again, circumstance. They were both huge nerds, Castiel easily had more in common with Sam than with Dean--so why Dean? If Sam hadn’t been on demon blood when they met, would Castiel have fallen for Sam instead?

Dean tortured himself with possibilities for the majority of the drive, only stopping for food breaks. When they finally reached the motel they were staying at, Dean parked just long enough to let Sam get out of the car. “Going out, back later,” was all that Dean grunted before he drove away again.

This was yet another sleepy little middle American town, so there weren’t many bars around. But one was all he needed. Dean flashed his trademark charming grin in the rearview mirror as a warm-up before walking inside.

Dean looked around slowly. Not many people here tonight. However, Dean spotted a stunning brunette woman sitting by herself at the bar. Jackpot.

He readied his charming grin while approaching her, and unleashed it when he smoothly sat down on the stool next to hers. “Hey, I’m Dean, can I buy you a drink?”

She was a little startled at first by his sudden appearance, but quickly relaxed. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’d love a Long Island.”

Dean whistled lowly. “Damn, those hit hard, you must have one hell of a tolerance!”

She smirked. “I definitely know how to handle my liquor.”

“I bet you do,” Dean leered, before quickly waving down the bartender and ordering her drink. Once he turned back to her, he was finally struck by how blue her eyes are, even in the low light of the bar. His mind instantly flashed to Castiel’s brilliant blue eyes, but he quickly dismissed the thought. “So tell me a little more about yourself… I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Oh! Sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Casey, and I’m a librarian. What about you, Dean?” She smiled sweetly up at him as she sipped the drink the bartender just gave her.

She already remembered his name, which was a good sign. But… Casey, really? That was so similar to “Cas”. Just what exactly were the odds of that? She even had a nerdy job! He was a little disconcerted, but he once again shoved the feelings to the back of his mind.

He gave Casey a sheepish grin. “Just in town with my brother for a couple of days. We run a freelancing business, always traveling, you know how it is.” Dean actually did not know how it is, but he recently learned that “freelancing” is an increasingly popular career choice. Freelancing in what, Dean didn’t know, but he never cared. It made for a good excuse for strangers, and they always filled in the blanks with their own assumptions anyway.

“So you won’t be in town for very long, huh?” Casey asked coyly, with an assessing gaze.

This was it. She was definitely interested. Now he just needed to close the deal. Yet… he looked at Casey again, and for a moment he only saw Castiel. His mind started to run with it. What would happen if he were to go to a bar with Castiel? Would their conversation only be a prelude for sex and nothing more, like this, or would they just drink some beers together while Dean painstakingly explained whatever sport was playing on the bar TV…?

“Dean? Are you okay?” Casey asked, looking both concerned for him and also worried that she was talking to a weirdo.

Dean abruptly snapped out of his reverie, and simultaneously his heart sank. His mind was so preoccupied with Castiel that he couldn’t even pull off a simple bar hookup without problems. He was clearly off his game. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry about that, I just remembered that I have some work I need to get done. Enjoy your drink.” He stood up from the stool.

Casey frowned, clearly disappointed. “Ah, that’s too bad. I hope I can see you again soon!”

Dean smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I hope so too,” he winked, mostly as consolation. He didn’t want her to think that he didn’t find her attractive, because she definitely was. In different circumstances…

Different circumstances. It kept coming back to that, didn’t it.

Either way, it was clear that he wasn’t getting laid anytime soon.

Whenever there was any downtime, Dean ruminated on what he would say when he saw Castiel again. However, one night while driving to their latest motel, it suddenly dawned on him that it had been almost three weeks since he had heard anything from him. A longer absence wasn’t entirely unusual for Castiel, but there were usually at least a couple of text messages in the interim. This time, he had gotten nothing at all. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Have you heard anything from Cas lately?” Dean asked Sam, who was sitting next to him in the Impala, staring out the window. Dean was aiming for casual but missed by a mile.

Sam startled a bit; he had been wrapped up in his own thoughts during the drive. He quickly recovered by saying, “No, I don’t think so.” He took his phone out anyway to double check. “The last text I got from him was about the last case he sent us on. Why? Have you heard from him?” Sam also tried to keep his question casual and similarly failed.

Dean was weirdly satisfied by that answer. At least Sam and Castiel weren’t carrying on a secret friendship behind his back. “No, I haven’t,” he grunted.

Sam eyed him warily. “Do you think he’s okay? Want me to text him?”

“No!” Dean immediately reacted, with a little too much force. He realized this and toned himself down. “No, I’ll text him. We’re almost there, anyway.”

“Okay,” was all Sam said, with a weird little smile on his face. Dean didn’t know exactly what Sam was thinking but he knew that whatever it was, it was wrong.

They fell back into silence, and a few minutes later they’re pulling up at a motel. Once they had checked in and settled into their room, Dean grabbed a beer from their cooler and excused himself. “I need some air.” He walked out before noticing how Sam was smiling again.

He leaned against the hood of the Impala and took a swig of his beer, looking up at the night sky. Then he stared back down at the phone in his hand, opened up to Castiel’s contact screen. He opened up a blank message, then stared some more.

He wrote, i’m sorry, then quickly deleted it. No emotional crap over a text message.

He wrote, hey cas what’s up, and paused. That would start a conversation over text. That was definitely not what he wanted. He wanted to see him face-to-face.

He deleted what he previously wrote and wrote, can we talk and sent it. Seconds later he realized that it sounded a little ominous, but it was too late.

His phone buzzed immediately after. Where are you?

Dean texted him the motel address, noting that he was outside next to his car. Moments later, Castiel appeared, standing a little too close to Dean. “Hello, Dean,” he said, a little warily. Dean couldn’t blame him.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said, then froze. What was he going to say? He had spent so much time thinking about what to say, he never concluded what he actually would say once the opportunity arose. He eventually settled on, “It’s been awhile.”

Castiel nodded. “I believe we both needed some distance to process our emotions.”

Jumping into emotions already? Jeez, so much for stalling. Dean huffed a laugh. “You know I’m not really that good at that stuff, right?”

Castiel looked at him wryly. “Trust me, I am well aware of your deficiencies in this area, Dean.”

“Hey!” Dean protested though he knew it was true. “You can’t be much better at it than me, you only just started feeling them.”

“That is true,” Castiel admitted, switching to a much more serious tone, “but at least I know and accept what I feel. Tell me, Dean, what do you feel?”

Oh, God. That was the worst question in existence. Dean wanted to hightail it out of there but also knew that it might make Castiel angry again. Yet he couldn’t just start opening up with everything. “If you want someone to talk to about feelings, it’s Sam you want, not me,” he deflected.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I asked you, Dean. Not Sam.”

Bringing up Sam had also brought to surface all the toxic thoughts Dean had had lately in regards to Sam and Castiel’s relationship. This was why he suddenly lashed out. “But that’s what you’d really prefer, right? You might as well just go talk to him then since he’s apparently a potential true love! No need to waste time on me!”

Castiel was bewildered. “I just told you that so you knew you weren’t obligated to return my feelings. Sam is just one option. There could be others out there that I will meet someday that could have potential too. The same is true for you, Dean. You have rejected me, but you will meet someone else you can potentially love someday.”

Everything coming out of Castiel’s mouth was just wrong, wrong, wrong. But Dean didn’t know how to address why hearing that made him feel so cold and hollow. “So… you’re not interested in Sam?” he asked instead.

“No, of course not,” Castiel said, sounding a little amused. “I care about Sam, but I will never love him the way I love you.”

That was… a huge relief. Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Oh. Uh. Good,” he stumbled, not allowing himself to process the fact that Castiel had just confessed his love for him again. At least it wasn’t directed toward Sam.

“Good?” Castiel spat, glaring at him. “Why is it good that I am not interested in Sam when you have already rejected me? Are you trying to control me again?”

Dean’s eyes widened. “No, Cas, that’s not what I meant, Jesus Christ.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Then what did you mean?”

Good question. There was a twist in his gut that intensified whenever he imagined Sam and Castiel together, but he didn’t know what it meant--or rather, he didn’t want to look too closely at it, because he suspected he did know what it meant. So he went with the safe answer. “Cause it’d be weird as hell to see my little brother dating you.”

“Is… that it?” Castiel asked, sounding a little deflated.

“What else would it be?” Dean asked, praying he didn’t decide to probe much deeper.

Castiel stared a bit like he didn’t believe him, but then he sighed. “Very well. But know this, Dean: As long as you reject me, you do not get any say in who I am or am not interested in.”

Dean’s stomach dropped at the thought of Castiel being interested in a mysterious third person. He hadn’t considered that possibility before. “So is there someone else then?” he blurted.

Castiel looked at Dean as if he just said something very stupid. Which, admittedly, he had. “That’s not the point,” he said patiently. He paused and looks thoughtful. “Why do you care so much?”

“What?” Dean asked, before realizing what Castiel was really getting at. He got defensive in response to quell the rising panic he felt. “I don’t, I was just curious, can’t a guy be curious about his best friend?!”

There was a definite sadness in Castiel’s eyes and tone when he says, “Of course. If that is all, I still have work to do.”

Dean didn’t want to see him leave yet, but he didn’t know how to ask him to stay. He just shook his head, and Castiel disappeared. Dean chugged the rest of his beer and headed inside. Time for another beer.

When he stepped inside the motel room, he was greeted by Sam working on the laptop. “Hey! Did you talk to Cas?”

“Yeah, I did,” Dean said as he grabbed his second beer out of the cooler, failing to elaborate.

Sam waited for a few moments but realized that’s all he was getting from Dean without prompting. So he asked, “Are you guys okay now? No more arguments?”

Dean laughed sardonically. “There will never be ‘no more arguments’.” They had never had an entirely peaceful relationship, after all. “But for now? Yeah, we’re good.” Not entirely. Not that Sam needed to know that, though.

Sam smiled. “So you finally confessed?”

Dean did a double take. “Confessed what, Sam?”

“You mean you still haven’t…” Sam trailed off, then sighs. “Nevermind. I’m glad you’re doing alright now.”

Dean wasn’t stupid, he knew what Sam was implying. He just wasn’t in the mood to try to tackle that problem at the moment. He took a swig from his beer and turned on the motel TV. He could worry about it later. Or never.

Things appeared to go back to normal after their conversation. No one brought up the topic of the curse or true love. It was almost as if it never happened.

Yet something had changed. Not in any outward or visible way, but in the way that Dean viewed Castiel. He hadn’t been able to forget that he was Castiel’s true love, that Castiel directly confessed his love for him.

He just didn’t understand what that really meant, nor why Castiel fell in love with him, specifically. It nagged at him constantly, even though he wouldn’t ask Castiel himself about it.

Instead, he found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Castiel. Maybe that way he could figure out via osmosis, and then he could stop worrying about it. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Which is how Dean found himself in a random bar one night, after a successfully completed case. At first, he had considered trying to pick up a woman again. But even though there were a couple of attractive women in the bar, he found that he just wasn’t in the mood to try, the memory of his previous attempt still fresh. So here he was, the sad loser sitting alone at a bar.

Then it dawned on Dean: he didn’t have to be alone. He whipped out his phone and sent a text to Castiel: at a bar right now u should come. He followed it up with the bar address.

That much information was still enough. Moments later, Castiel was walking over to the bar and sitting on the stool next to Dean’s. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked from Castiel to the bar entrance and back. “Wait, did you actually use the door this time?”

Castiel looked sheepish. “I’ve noticed that other people become disturbed when I suddenly appear.”

“Wait, but you just randomly appeared all the time for me! Even when I was in the middle of driving!” It had given Dean a heart attack more than once, though that hadn’t happened since before Castiel worked his mojo to hide them from him.

“But it didn’t disturb you,” Castiel said matter-of-factly.

“It damn well did when I’m driving! It made me almost crash every time!” Dean wasn’t exaggerating.

“I would not allow that to happen,” Castiel reassured.

“That’s not the point!” Dean countered. “It’s just dangerous, man!”

Castiel pondered for a moment, tilting his head. “So you are suggesting that I always use the door from now on?”

“Yes, that’s how normal people function!” Dean said automatically but then remembered how the sound of Castiel’s wing beats always tell him Castiel was there before Dean even saw him. He realized he liked the sound. It was just such a basic “Cas thing”, and Dean didn’t really want to lose it. So he changed his mind. “But you’re obviously not normal, so you know, keep doing you.”

“So… you want me to continue suddenly appearing?” Castiel asked, confused by Dean’s contradiction.

Of course he did. The more often, the better. Dean said instead, “Yeah, buddy, if that’s what you want.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed at the use of “buddy”, but he nodded. At this point, the female bartender finally noticed Castiel’s appearance and asked for his order. Castiel just looked at Dean and said, “I’ll try whatever he’s having.”

The bartender looked between them and suddenly smirked, but just said “You got it,” before leaving to make the drink.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cas, I could’ve given you a recommendation for something else to try.” His beer wasn’t exactly high quality stuff--just cheap.

Castiel looked puzzled. “But if you’re drinking this, then it must be good,” he said as if that alone proved it. The bartender returned right then to give Castiel the beer, and he thanked her before taking a sip. He made a slight face as it went down, and the sight of it made Dean laugh.

“I told you, this isn’t great beer. You really need to try the better stuff. I usually save the money, but next round we’ll try it, I promise,” Dean said, clapping Castiel on the back. Instead of moving his hand quickly away from Castiel’s back, he let his arm drop slowly, subconsciously wanting to prolong his contact with him. His fingers lightly traced Castiel’s back until his arm finally fell back to his side.

Castiel looked over his shoulder briefly to track Dean’s arm, then looked intently back at Dean. “I look forward to it.”

The words and the gaze made Dean feel a little hot under his collar for some reason. He cleared his throat and changed the subject.

Dean was sitting on one of the motel beds, TV blaring at nearly full blast. Sam yelled over the noise, “Would you turn that down? I’m trying to find a new case!”

Dean looked at him, gave him a shit-eating grin, then turned back to the TV as he increased the volume even further

He flinched when Sam suddenly slammed his laptop shut. “Fine, I’m leaving!” He shoved the laptop into his bag, then slammed the door on his way out.

Dean snorted and immediately lowered the volume so he could hear himself think. Finally. He grabbed his phone and texted Castiel. u wanna watch some TV He followed it up with the motel address, then waited.

Moments later, Castiel materialized next to the bed. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean beamed at him. “Hey, you made it! Come sit down with me.” He scooted over to the other side of the bed and then patted the empty space he left behind. He belatedly realized he normally didn’t do that. Castiel could see the screen just fine from the other bed.

Castiel hesitated, clearly also realizing that this was unusual for them. Then he seemed to make up his mind and gingerly sat down next to Dean. He didn’t leave much room between them, a couple of inches at most.

Dean hadn’t expected Castiel to be so close, and he visibly swallowed as he felt himself flushing. He could feel the heat radiating from Castiel’s body. Desperate to get his mind off it, he looked back at the TV. “They’re having a Dr. Sexy marathon today. You gotta watch it, man. It’s awesome.”

“I defer to your judgment,” Castiel said dryly. “What is it about?”

Dean launched into an explanation of the basic plot, though dwelled on describing the titular character. “Keep an eye on his feet. He always wears cowboy boots. That’s what makes him so sexy.”

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up. “You find this character sexy?”

Dean spluttered. “He’s--it’s in his name! He’s Dr. Sexy. Of course he’s sexy, that’s the point.”

He didn’t let it go. “But it sounded like you, personally, find him sexy.”

Dean looked away so Castiel couldn’t see his face, which had gone completely red. “It’s the boots,” he mumbled, barely audible.

Unfortunately for Dean, Castiel had superior hearing abilities, so he still heard the mumbling loud and clear. “I understand. Cowboy boots are sexy. Anyone who wears cowboy boots is sexy.”

Dean turned to face him again. “No, not anyone! There are too many rednecks and old people out there who wear cowboy boots! Not all of them are sexy, believe me.”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “Are old people not sexy? I’m old. I’m older than humanity.”

“Cas--” Dean took a deep breath. He forgot sometimes, or all the time, how old Castiel really is. It’s far beyond his comprehension so he preferred to ignore it. “I wasn’t talking about you. You don’t age, so it doesn’t count.”

Castiel had what appears to be the beginning of a smirk on his face. “So, if I understand correctly, people who wear cowboy boots are sexy, unless they are a ‘redneck’,” he added air quotes with this unfamiliar word, “or old. Unless they’re a being who doesn’t age, like me. So, if I wore cowboy boots, you would find me sexy?”

Dean’s brain temporarily short-circuited as he imagined Castiel wearing cowboy boots. He envisioned Dr. Sexy’s pair in particular. What a sight that would be. He’d still be wearing his typical tax accountant outfit, and then… cowboy boots. “It’d be kinda weird if you wore them, especially looking like that.”

Castiel looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with how I look?”

Dean took this as an excuse to study him. His clothes were super nerdy and a little bulky, making it more difficult to check out his body. He moved his gaze to his face and found him staring back at him. His eyes were piercing, and so deeply blue. Dean quickly glanced down to take in the rest of his face, lingering on his lips, before meeting Castiel’s eyes again. “Nothing,” he breathed. “Absolutely nothing.”

The tension between them became smothering as they continued staring into each other’s eyes, the TV forgotten entirely. Dean suddenly remembered when he technically kissed Castiel, starting the whole mess between them. It wasn’t a particularly notable kiss, as Castiel woke up but didn’t kiss him back. What would it have been like if Castiel had kissed him back? What if he kissed him now? He waited, breathless, for Castiel to make the first move.

Instead, Castiel broke the gaze and looked down at his feet. Dean followed his glance and saw that he had replaced his sensible shoes with cowboy boots. Dean stared for a moment--it really was quite striking to see him in the boots--but then he started laughing. “Shit, Cas, you didn’t have to actually do it.”

“If nothing is wrong with how I look, then I am free to wear cowboy boots. Am I sexy now, Dean?” Castiel asked, a little too earnestly.

Dean softened. “When I said nothing was wrong, I meant that you didn’t have to change a thing.” He had always known that Castiel was attractive; he had functioning eyes after all. He just refused to outright agree that Castiel was sexy.

Castiel smiled and looked down, flustered but pleased. “Thank you, Dean. So no cowboy boots?”

“It’s a free country, buddy,” Dean slapped him on the back, hoping to ease the tension and bring it to friendlier territory, “You can wear whatever you want.” His body betrayed him, however, as his hand rose to rest on his shoulder.

Castiel’s smile deepened. “I’ll keep them for today. In honor of…,” he paused, then said in a deadpan tone, “Dr. Sexy.”

Dean let out a surprised laugh. “Already a fan and haven’t even watched it, huh? Damn, I’m good.”

“Yes, you are,” Castiel said, deadly serious.

The conviction in his voice tied Dean’s stomach into knots. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t good enough for Castiel. It must’ve been some kind of mistake that he was his true love. His hand fell from Castiel’s shoulder as he looked away briefly to compose himself. He didn’t want to ruin this, so when he turned back to Castiel, he had a forced smile. “Whatever you say, Cas. We need to start actually watching the show, you superfan.”

Castiel frowned, clearly picking up on Dean’s concealed distress. “Dean, please believe me. You are a really good--”

“Don’t,” Dean cut him off. He couldn’t do this right now. The knots in his stomach seemed to tighten just from those words alone. “Let’s just watch the show.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, but he relented. “Very well then.”

The TV was currently in the middle of an episode. Dean filled Castiel in on what was going on. Unconsciously, he pulled Castiel even closer to him, so that their entire bodies were touching, and his arm remained draped across his shoulder. As his fingers slowly traced patterns on Castiel’s shoulder, the lingering tension seeped from his body.

Their latest case was near Sioux Falls so naturally, they had to take a break from the motel life to drop in on Bobby for a few days. It should have been easier to fall asleep on a good bed, but Dean still found himself tossing and turning.

He couldn’t get it out of his mind. The warmth of Castiel’s body against his. Staring into his eyes, on the verge of a kiss, He kept wondering, what would have happened if they had kissed? In the dead of night, he couldn’t hide from the truth: he had wanted it to happen. He… wanted Castiel. Maybe, deep down, even loved him.

That particular thought was what spurred him to get up and head to the kitchen for a beer, or maybe two. When he got there, he saw he wasn’t alone: Bobby was also there.

“Hey Bobby,” Dean said, trying hard to sound casual.

Bobby cut to the chase. “Dean, why are you up? I know you barely get enough sleep as it is, boy.”

“Hey, I could ask you the same question! Why are you up?” Dean retorted, not wanting to explain himself.

“None of your damn business,” Bobby spat. “Now spill. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t sleep. I thought a beer would help.” That wasn’t a total lie, Dean reasoned. Something was absolutely wrong, but he definitely wanted a beer. Especially after this conversation.

Bobby narrowed his eyes. “Is this about Castiel?”

“W-why--” Dean stuttered, eyes wide with shock and fear, “why do you think it’s about Cas?”

“Your reaction, for one,” Bobby snorted in amusement. “Also, you’ve been real fishy about what happened when he was hit with that spell that put him in a coma. Suddenly he’s back to normal but you won’t tell me what cured him. Spit it out, Dean. What happened?”

Dean was foolish to think he could keep this from Bobby forever. He just knew that Bobby wouldn’t put up with his bullshit. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “We tried your suggestion. Kissing him like he’s freaking Sleeping Beauty. And well,” he gulped, “it worked. I kissed him, and he woke up.”

Bobby started laughing. “Straight out of a fairytale, you two. You’re his Prince Charming! When’s the wedding?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Why did Sam and Bobby both have to go there? Dean tried very hard not to think about getting married to Castiel. He was terrified enough as it was just at the thought of dating him.

Bobby sobered up. “Seriously, kiddo, what’s eating at you? You saved the day, you should be fine. You can get your sorry ass over kissing a dude.”

But Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to get over kissing Castiel. He hesitated for a moment--did he really want to confide in Bobby about this?--but if he lied Bobby would know. “Kinda the opposite problem,” he admitted quietly.

“The opposite problem?” Bobby asked, his face scrunching in confusion. “What, so you don’t care that you kissed a guy? Never figured you for being mature enough to handle it.”

Dean grimaced. “Thanks, Bobby,” he said sardonically. To be fair, he wasn’t sure he had handled any of this particularly well. “What I meant is that I think we almost kissed again the other day,” he paused, not wanting to say this even as it was coming out of his mouth, “And I think… I think I wanted it.” His stomach immediately clenched. Now it was out in the world instead of just in his own mind. He could no longer deny it.

Bobby’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re finally admitting it.”

“Finally--” Dean looked gobsmacked. “What do you mean, finally admitting it?!”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Son, we all know you like him. That you like each other. You broadcast it every time you look at him.” He paused in thought. “In a way, it reminds me of how I used to look at Karen.”

Dean flinched, eyes growing wide. “But she was your wife! Me and Cas, we’re, we’re not like that!”

“But you want to be, and it’s scaring the pants off you, am I right?” Dean just stared at him, which Bobby took as a “yes”. “You forgot I practically raised you, you idjit. Of course I know when you like someone. So what, you’re having gay panic? Well get over it, princess, because I can tell that angel of yours is good for you.”

All of his freak outs distilled into two words: “gay panic”. He couldn’t really deny that had something to do with it. But-- “It’s not just that, Bobby. When I kissed him and he woke up, that meant…,” he in particular really didn’t want to admit this, “That meant I’m his true love. But I can’t be. Surely that’s a mistake, cause look at me! I’m a terrible person. I did awful things in Hell. I don’t deserve to be anyone’s true love, much less his.” This Dean knew, deep in his bones. He didn’t deserve love. Especially not from someone like Castiel, who was so much better than him it was laughable.

Bobby looked frustrated now. “How many damn times do I gotta get it through your thick skull that you ain’t a terrible person! It doesn't matter what you did in Hell, it was Hell. You’re a good person, Dean.” Dean looked like he was about to protest, so before he had the chance Bobby continued. “True love, though, that’s heavy stuff. What does the angel think?”

Having the decency to look sheepish, Dean said, “He told me he loves me. Even when I told him how terrible I am, he still loves me.” Just saying the words out loud gave him a funny feeling in his stomach. It was hard to believe it was true, despite everything that had happened so far.

“Then what’s the damn problem?!” Bobby roared. “He loves you. You clearly love him, though you won’t admit it. Oh, right. That’s the problem. You’re too chickenshit to admit you love him. Dammit boy, you’re gonna give me an ulcer.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Seeing Bobby seem so disappointed in him just confirmed his worst fears. “See, Bobby? I’m just a disappointment to you, to everyone. Definitely not worthy to be Cas’ true love.”

Bobby sighed heavily. “No, Dean, I just hate seeing you do this to yourself. Punishing yourself by refusing to go after something that would actually make you happy. Punishing Cas, too, from the sound of it. Now, tell me this: does Cas deserve to have his true love reject him?”

Dean had never thought about it like that before. He frowned. “No, of course not. He deserves to be loved, by someone worthy of him.”

“It sounds like he already thinks you’re worthy, and that’s what matters, boy.” Bobby kept raising his voice as he spoke, clearly agitated. “I would give up everything to have just one more day with Karen, and here you are, wasting your damn time while the one you love is right in front of you just because of some oh woe is me bullshit. Snap out of it! If you don’t act on it, then you’re right: you don’t deserve it!”

Dean felt Bobby’s words like a physical blow. They cut right to the heart of the matter, and worst of all, he was right. “Fuck, Bobby,” he breathed. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Bobby softened. “Nobody does, but we do it anyway because we love them. Go tell him, son.”

Despite feeling scared shitless, he nodded. “Thanks, Bobby.”

After bidding each other goodnight, Dean immediately headed outside, to where the Impala was. He leaned against the hood, staring at the stars. It was easier to think out here. He more or less told Bobby that he was going to tell Castiel that he… loved him.

God, did he really love him?

Everyone else seemed to think so, sure, but that didn’t mean it was true. Many memories of Castiel started flashing through his mind. Meeting for the first time in a barn, confiding in him for the first time in a park, being there with him in the aftermath of torturing Alastair, slyly giving him the hint he needed to save Sam from Lillith, rebelling against the angels to help him try to stop the apocalypse, failing spectacularly at the brothel causing him to laugh harder than he had in years, saying he loved him despite everything, nearly kissing him again for real…

Dean was overwhelmed. They definitely butted heads sometimes, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Wouldn’t want Castiel any other way but exactly how he is.

He loved him.

Bobby’s words weighing heavily on his heart, he knew what he needed to do. An urge to grab a beer to boost his courage nearly overcame him, but he forced himself to relax. Castiel deserved to hear this when he was sober.

He took a deep breath. “Cas, you got your ears on?” He paused, still feeling a little hesitant. “I.. I was hoping we could talk. Face to face. Please, it’s important. I’m at Bobby’s place, on Baby.”

In the next breath, Castiel arrived in a flurry of wing beats. “Hello, Dean.”

It was one thing to talk to Bobby about telling him or think about telling him. Having him standing before him now, looking fond but curious, made his throat close up. “Hey, Cas,” he croaked.

Castiel frowned. “What’s wrong? You don’t look injured. Are you in danger?”

In danger of dying from mortification, perhaps. Dean chuckled. “No, Cas, I’m fine. No danger.”

“So what’s so important?” Castiel asked, confused.

Now that he had allowed himself to accept his feelings, Dean was immediately swept up by fondness. He looked… almost adorable like that. Ugh. What was wrong with him? Only girls think people are adorable. “There’s just… something I think I need to say,” he managed to spit out.

Castiel blinked. “Okay,” he said, a little warily, “what is it?”

He knew he needed to say it. It should be simple. Just three little words. Easy peasy. Looking into Castiel’s expectant face, though, left him stricken. He already knew he loved him back, so it wasn’t like he was going to be rejected. It shouldn’t be terrifying. Then why did it feel like he couldn’t breathe?

Dean’s anguish must have shown on his face because Castiel stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “Dean, are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Dean blurted out. Not what he meant to say but he was on a roll, now. “Ever since you told me you love me. It doesn’t make any sense. Why me? I don’t deserve it. But even the thought of you being with someone else makes me so angry--”

“Because you still want to control me,” Castiel interrupted, looking pissed now. “You have no right--”

“No!” Dean shouted. “I’ve never wanted to control you. It’s just I don’t want to see you with anyone else because it should be me!” Well. That’s one way to say it.

Castiel flinched away from Dean, stunned. “What… Dean, what are you saying? Please don’t do this if you don’t mean it.”

Dean stepped closer, close enough to kiss. “I mean it, Cas. Don’t be with anyone else. Just me.”

For a moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Dean dropped his gaze to look at Castiel’s lips. When their eyes met again, Castiel’s pupils were blown wide. Slowly, Dean began to lean in, and Castiel met him in the middle.

This was nothing like their first kiss when Castiel was comatose. No, this time Castiel was a very active participant, opening his mouth and tangling his tongue with Dean’s. They wrapped their arms around each other, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Dean’s hand dove into Castiel’s hair to cup the back of his head, whereas Castiel’s hands roamed all around Dean’s back.

The heat and the pleasure of the kiss seemed to alight all of Dean’s nerve endings on fire. He had kissed so many women he had lost count, but he had never had a kiss like this one, where it overwhelmed his senses so completely, where nothing else in the world existed except him and who he was kissing.

When they finally parted--only far enough to be able to look each other in the eye, still locked in an embrace--they were faintly panting from exertion. Castiel was awed. “Dean, that was--”

“Amazing,” Dean finished for him. He couldn’t believe how good it was. Why hadn’t he done it sooner?

“Dean,” Castiel gushed, “I love you.”

Dean froze. Having a spectacular kiss was one thing. But hearing those words again--and having to respond properly this time--tripped him up. “Cas, you gotta know, right? I just don’t know if I can say it just yet.”

Castiel rested his forehead against Dean’s. “It’s okay, Dean. I can feel it now. That’s enough for me.”

Dean’s body fully relaxed against him. “Thanks, Cas.” They spent a moment in silence, just enjoying the feeling of being together. Then the wind picked up and sent a strong chill over Dean, causing him to shiver. “Damn, it’s gotten really cold. Let’s go to my room.”

“To your room?” Castiel asked, eyebrows high.

“Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to, okay? But honestly,” Dean smirked, “I’d love it if something did.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Castiel smirked back.

The next morning, Dean and Castiel headed to the kitchen for coffee. To their surprise, Bobby and Sam were already there, making bacon and eggs. They also looked surprised to see Castiel.

“Hey, Cas! Didn’t realize you had dropped in!” Sam said with a grin.

Bobby simply looked between Dean and Castiel and snorted. “Finally.”

Sam turned to look at Bobby. “Finally? Finally what?!”

Dean and Castiel looked at each other, communicating without words: should we tell them? Dean hesitated, then nodded. In for a penny, in for a pound. They didn’t say a word, opting instead to hold hands.

Sam beamed. “Dean, you finally told him? Thank God. I couldn’t handle all your drama about it anymore.”

Hackles raised, Dean bellowed, “Drama?! Oh, I’ll show you drama!” He stepped towards Sam menacingly.

Sam started laughing and held his hands up in surrender. “Relax Dean, I’m teasing. I’m so happy for you guys, truly.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Castiel said quietly, with a small smile that quivered slightly.

Dean saw the expression on Castiel’s face and immediately softened. He then turned back to Sam. “Geez Sammy, no need to get all mushy on us.” He was secretly pleased, but Sam didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, I bet you were mushy last night,” Sam said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Knowing he couldn’t deny it, all Dean could say is, “Shut up, bitch.”

Sam laughed. “Never, jerk.”

“All right, enough yammering, the food’s ready,” Bobby cut in. “Castiel, you’re eating too. I don’t care about that ‘I’m an angel so I don’t eat’ crap. You spend the night here, you eat with us.”

Castiel’s mouth twitched. “Very well, then.”

Soon enough they were all seated at the table, Sam and Bobby on one side, Dean and Castiel on the other. While eating, they all got caught up in a lively debate over the best way to kill vampires.

In the middle of the meal, Castiel suddenly placed his right hand on Dean’s thigh under the table. Dean startled at first, but then carefully covered Castiel’s hand with his left hand. They shared a private look that promised more to come later.

Dean had to suppress a full-body shiver when he saw that look on Castiel’s face, but nevertheless joy started bubbling up within him. It certainly wasn’t perfect. They still had a lot of issues left unsaid, and they would likely have many more fights to come. Yet maybe, for once in his life, he had found a happily ever after.