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It all started with a cat.
Cas had noticed the presence of feline activity near the Bunker. He'd seen tracks in the mud on rainy days and the occasional dead mouse in the grass but this was the first time he'd seen the animal.
The weather was particularly tempestuous with rain smattering on the ground and as he walked towards the entrance of the Bunker he saw it huddling in the corner. Only as it moved in the darkness of the night, did Cas see it. The black cat had the features of an adult but it looked small and miserable as it pushed back into the corner.
Cas kneeled down and slowly extended a welcoming hand. “It's alright, come here little friend.”
The cat didn't make a mad dash trying to escape him but neither did it make any motion to come near him. It mewled once but the sound was faint, almost drowned out due to the rain.
Cas waited patiently.
The cat blinked, its blue eyes staring at him as if trying to determine if he was trustworthy or not.
“You know, I have seen your evolution from a large animal of prey to the little tiny creatures you are today. You are fierce hunters, despite your current size. It's cold outside, and if you come with me, I'll have a meal for you and a nice, warm place to sleep in. Sounds good?”
The cat cocked its head curiously and slowly walked up to Cas.
Cas picked it up gingerly, holding it close to his chest. “You're soaked. Let's get you inside.”
He used a small tendril of grace, examining the cat for any serious injuries or diseases but besides the cat being hungry and cold it seemed fine.
It was 2.45 in the morning and both Sam and Dean were asleep. Cas grabbed a towel and rubbed the cat dry. As he carried it in his arms, he thought of names for the feline, but nothing stuck out to him. Names were important.
He walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, the cat nestled close to his chest. The Winchesters were not big on fish and although Sam sometimes stocked up on canned tuna, Cas was out of luck. He eyed one of Dean's favorite food items. The one that deserved its own place in the food pyramid according to Dean.
He quickly fried up some bacon, all while the cat meowed impatiently on the counter. “Shh, soon Bacon, be patient.” A smile creased his lips, Bacon, that was a good name for a cat.
Cas feed Bacon tiny pieces of bacon. He was not sure how long he'd been out and since he hadn't sensed any chips or seen any collar he figured the cat had been a stray.
Bacon methodically ate all the pieces of the bacon Cas offered it. When dinner was finished she slowly started licking her paws, the pink, coarse tongue being thorough.
Rinsing the pan, Cas brought a bowl with water with him back to his room. Bacon followed him on soft feet. He placed the bowl in the corner; he knew they wanted solitude. The door he left slightly ajar so Bacon could roam as she pleased during the night.
He didn't feel the need to rest but nonetheless he crept down into the bed. Usually, Cas used a couple of hours to read in bed, do the next day's chores or organize the groceries in the cupboard if they were not working on a case. Bacon looked to the door before she turned to him with her cat eyes. Her blue gaze was eerily perceptive.
Cas nodded and Bacon jumped up gracefully. She curled close to Cas, her head resting near his throat. Almost immediately, she started purring and soon she breathed in the steady rhythm of sleep.
Cas woke up with a start, Dean shouting his name.
“Cas!”
Cas jumped out of bed and went for the door, his angel blade already in hand. He bumped into Dean, their chests colliding.
Dean's brows were drawn down into a frown but he backed up, his arm outstretched. “What the hell, Cas? This hellspawn woke me up by licking me. In the face! Why's there a cat in here?” He glared at Bacon. “Are you even a cat?”
Cas grabbed Bacon from Dean's hand and immediately she cuddled close, content to be near Cas again.
“Of course, she's a cat. I checked her with my grace.”
Dean rubbed his hand on his pants. “I need to go take some meds. I can already feel a rash coming on me. Hell, maybe even a fever.”
“You don't have a fever, Dean. Your bodily temperature is slightly elevated, but the likely cause is your state of mild irritation rather than any – “
Dean raised a finger. “It's not mild irritation, I'm angry. And it's allergies, alright Cas. I know me. Now I'ma turn around and pretend this didn't happen.” He walked away, his robe swirling behind him dramatically.
Cas sighed as he scratched Bacon behind the ear. “Don't mind him, Bacon, he's an angry sleeper, like a bear. He'll mellow after his morning coffee.”
Unfortunately for Cas, his prediction didn't come to pass.
Bacon was curled up in Cas' lap, her calm breathing already bringing him comfort. It was something about cats that tempered any sharp edges people had, something inviting, an aura maybe, that pulled people in and offered them relaxation. A rare gift to let go. No wonder cats of the past had been worshiped.
Dean was resisting the pull. He slammed the door to the fridge and breathed out sharply in frustration. “Man, I could have sworn I had bacon in there.”
Cas quickly licked his lips and schooled his face into a picture of innocence.
Bacon jumped down and started stroking herself against Dean's legs. “No, don't do that. I don't need you shedding all over the kitchen. The health department will be all over my ass.”
“The health department doesn't have jurisdiction in private homes.”
Dean sighed. “Whatever.” He picked up Bacon, in what Cas assumed was a motion to throw her out of the kitchen.
Bacon dug her claws in and the only result was Dean pulling at his T-shirt. “Cas, a little help here?”
Cas got up and grabbed a pot of coffee, pouring the black liquid almost to the edge of the mug. Dean would need it. “I think she's bonded with me. Besides, she's thin and she needs me. She needs us.”
“Well, I need her off me.” Dean yanked at her but she just dug her claws in more.
Cas put the coffee mug down on the counter. “You have to be gentle, Dean. Cats are very perceptive of energy.” He walked up to Dean and put a soothing hand on her.
Dean glanced at the cat, then his eyes found Castiel's again. He licked his lips. Clearing his throat, he let the cat go. “See, she's still there, hanging on me like some cute Gremlin.”
Cas reined in his impulses like he always did around Dean. Again they were close, so close that Cas could count each individual freckle on Dean's sun-kissed skin. What he wouldn't give to be the cause of some kisses on that same skin.
He cleared his throat. “Bacon is cute, I'll give you that.”
Dean dropped his hand from Bacon's back and she jumped down, arching her body against Dean's legs before finding Cas'. “You named the cat... Bacon?”
“I thought it was apt.”
“You gave her the bacon, didn't you?” Dean sighed but it was a resigned sound.
“She'd been alone in the rain for who knows how long, and she was cold, and alone and miserable. I seem to recall you being a great advocate for comfort food.”
“That was high-quality bacon, Cas. With good fat and all.” He sat down on a chair. “It's too early for this Dr. Dolittle drama, I need to wake up.” He took a sip of coffee, sighing deeply. “At least something is right in the world.”
“I can fry up some eggs for you”, Cas offered. It was a peace offering and Dean knew it.
He grunted a yes in reply. “Sam will not be happy about this.”
Speak of the Devil and Sam walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Cas I didn't know if Bacon wanted dry or wet food so I bought – “ He stopped mid-sentence at the sight of Dean.
“He knew?! Before me?” Dean made a disapproving face, his dimples of discontent showing.
Cas found it sort of adorable, not that he'd ever tell Dean that. “He went for a jog,” Cas offered as the sole explanation.
“So?”
Sam put the food down, already opening a can of wet food for Bacon. “So, I woke up early, you were still snoring in bed and me and Bacon became friends. Only the good stuff for you Bacon, wet food it is.”
Bacon meowed happily as Sam put down the food.
“Does no one care that I have allergies?!”
Sam snorted as he shook his head. “It's 10 percent allergies and 90 percent in your mind. But, as the caring brother I am – “ Sam tossed Dean a bottle of pills. “For your allergies.”
Over the next couple of days, Bacon settled in at the Bunker. She had her favorite toys, Sam's shoelaces and anything that smelled like Dean, much to his dismay. She had already claimed the vast underground space as her own, confidently walking in the corridors, resting in the library on top of Sam's feet as he read lore and on occasion following Dean as he tried to get away. But still, she liked to nestle close to Cas at night, whether he was in bed meditating, relaxing or reading.
Cas stirred in his bed. He'd slept for a few hours, only to wake up alone. “Bacon?” All he got was silence, no soft calling from the cat or a gentle stroke around his legs. Cas had come to find Bacon good company and he felt surprisingly uneasy with her gone. He'd open up his heart to the feline faster than even he expected. Too much heart was always your problem.
Unbidden thoughts of Dean came to him. The heavy weight of his arms when Dean hugged him, always welcome yet never enough. The soft caresses as Dean stroked his shoulder, his hand always falling away too soon. Those green golden eyes that held the world, when Cas longed to be his world. The soft lips that he yearned to claim in a kiss that he'd fantasized for years would convey all the feelings he had for Dean. And the sorrowful realization that that would never be them.
“Bacon? You there?” He knew it was in the middle of the night, so Bacon's absence was curious but not alarming. Cas padded out in the corridor on soft feet. He walked by Dean's room and stopped in surprise. A soft light peeked forth underneath Dean's door.
Cas opened the door, only to find Dean asleep, snoring loudly. A book lay cracked open on the floor and Bacon was coiled up next to Dean, purring happily. Dean rested a heavy hand on her back, fingers curled through her fur.
At the sound of Cas, Bacon opened her blue eyes, a soft sound escaping her lips. Her tail swayed back and forth before she stretched her front legs out long. Her claws dug into the covers and she closed her eyes, a very catlike dismissal and went back to sleep.
Cas stayed for a minute, just watching Dean as he slept. He was not having any nightmares, so Cas had no reason to stay. There were no terrible pictures to dispel from Dean's mind, no heart rate to calm down, no chills to chase away. Yet Cas found himself lingering, watching Dean.
He seemed at peace.
Cas stayed because he wanted to stay.
There were a lot of things he wanted. The uncertainty of if Dean wanted the same things lay heavy on him. He could feel Dean's longing, it cloaked around Cas' heart like a fresh spring, sustaining him with its revitalizing energy and yet that's where it stayed. In his heart.
To Cas' knowledge, Dean had never expressed a desire for more and while he knew that Dean cared for him deeply, Cas was not certain those feelings were the same level of depth as the ones Cas harbored for Dean.
Cas loved Dean.
But as long as Dean needed him as a friend, that's what Cas would give him. The thought of ruining what they had in search of something that may never be made Cas' heart ache.
What about what you want?
Cas ignored the voice. He'd done it for years. He left the door ajar, allowing Bacon the option to leave if he wanted to.
They were watching a movie the next evening, one that Jack had picked. The popcorn bowls were empty, and end credits were close to rolling.
“Who's ready for another one?” Dean asked, holding up Hatchet man vol. 5.
Sam yawned, shaking his head. “I'm out. I think one gore movie a night is enough.” He removed Bacon, who was hanging like a limp rag in his hands. “Here Cas, take your cat clone and cuddle. I'm sweating.”
He mumbled a good night as he left the Dean cave.
“I fail to see the resemblance, “ Cas grumbled before answering Dean. “I could watch another one.” He enjoyed being in Dean's company and the times were they were all at ease were far and few in between. For now, the monsters seemed to be, if not at peace, then at least slumbering.
Jack took a handful of popcorn, watching Bacon. “Sam's right. He does look like you, Cas. Same black shade as your hair, and the blue eyes. It's uncanny.” The popcorn crunched as he chewed them.
“It's just colors,” Cas answered. “Do you think the same, Dean?”
Dean glanced at Bacon, then at Cas. “I mean – “ He licked his lips. “Jack kind of has a point. If you ever turn into a cat for whatever reason, you'd be the spitting image of Bacon.”
Jack interjected. “You know cats were worshiped once, viewed as gods?”
Dean closed his mouth. “I did not... know that. That's, uh, interesting.”
Jack shrugged and got up. “In some cultures and time periods. In other cultures, different times, they ate cats. Or they were seen as the Devil's messengers.
“Well, if Cas was a cat I'd rather worship him than eat – “
Cas stared at him in confusion.
“I'm just saying that if you were a cat, I'd like that...” Dean continued awkwardly. “Cuddle I mean...”
“Good night, guys. Have fun. I'll go rest for a while.”
Dean cleared his throat and patted his hand on the couch. “Here we go. You ready?” Bacon took the seat next to him and started cleaning herself, totally oblivious to Dean's and Cas' exchange.
They were ten minutes into the movie when Bacon stretched out in Dean's lap, tiny claws flexing.
Cas had one eye on Yeager but most of his concentration was on Dean's strong hands, how he carded his fingers through Bacon's fur.
Bacon was in cat heaven, purring loudly, eyes closed contently. Now and then, her paws flexed softly as she buffed against Dean's stomach.
A rush of jealousy coated around a core of want surged through Cas. He pictured Dean carding his fingers through. his hair
“You're not allergic anymore, Dean?”
Dean shrugged. “Mm, I am, but I take these pills once a day, and they take the edge off the worst of it. And I gotta' admit, she's really cute.” He scratched Bacon behind the ear. “For being a cat.”
“Her size does lend her an extra level of cuteness.”
“Nah, not the knife, you need the ax to chop his leg off!” Dean suddenly yelled at the TV but he quickly turned around as if Cas' words had just reached him then.
“Her size. Her size? She's tiny and all, sure but look at her! That black, glossy fur, the same shade as your hair, Cas. It's perfect. And her eyes. I know we've tested her for every curse, hex and hidden shapeshifter magic we could think of so she's probably just a cat. But come on. Don't tell me you can't look into those blue eyes and drown into them? They're a fucking carbon copy of your eyes. Not that you're tiny or anything Cas, heck, you're bigger than me...”
The more Dean talked the more Cas' eyebrow rose. When Dean's monologue died down, Cas paused for a second. He knew what Dean had said but it was all in connection with Bacon so he tried not to put much faith in it.
“I was a commander for my garrison. I wouldn't call myself tiny. So your assumption is correct.” He could see Dean's expression go soft, before a subtle shade of red colored his cheeks. A human would not have noticed it but Cas was an angel and had no problem deciphering Dean's tiny tells of embarrassment.
“I know you're not – “
“I didn't mean to – “
Cas hesitated but decided to continue. “Seems you've given my appearance considerable thought.”
Dean was in the middle of tossing some popcorn in his mouth but fumbled.
Bacon immediately perked up and escaped Dean's grasp. Diving in she chewed happily and when she was done, she put a paw on Dean's arm, pressing gently.
Dean started stroking Bacon but more out of habit than anything else. He looked down before finding Cas' eyes again. “I just... you're not a cat, Cas.”
Cas chuckled and could feel the tension drain from Dean. Or maybe the fact that Bacon had started to nibble on his fingers helped. “I am not. I've been a lot of things through my years, but a cat is not one of them.”
Silence stretched out between them, but this was a different kind of pause for Cas. It was filled with tension and something else rather than the usually easy and companionable silence they enjoyed together.
Bacon wiggled out of Dean's grip and settled in between them.
As Cas reached out to pet Bacon, Dean thought to do the same and their hands met on the warmth of her fur.
The heat of Dean's hand against his own felt like a furnace compared to the body of Bacon. Cas was hyper-aware of his rough skin, the softness of Bacon's fur and Dean's fingers resting on the top of his hand.
Bacon started purring at the same time as Dean's hand twitched.
The TV was a low hum in the background, barely acknowledged.
Cas needed to remove his hand, he should have done it. But he didn't want to and Dean didn't make any moves of his own either.
Dean's thumb moved an inch and it sent a sharp thread of heat, happiness and above all else hope through Cas.
The silence dragged on, but neither of them moved.
“This feels a lot more like skin than fur...” Dean's voice was low and husky and he had his eyes downcast but Cas could see a small hesitant smile play on his lips nonetheless.
Cas nodded slowly, as opposed to his heart which was rushing at a speed of several hundred miles an hour. “It does.”
Dean looked up at Cas, licked his lips. “Yeah...” He looked down at Bacon again and removed his hand.
Cas' heart sank. He wanted to say something but couldn't. He almost found it amusing that when he needed words the most, they always failed him. But at the same time, he wasn't sure. And he couldn't, just couldn't risk ruining the friendship and close bond he had with Dean.
He was about to open his mouth when he saw Dean's face set into grim determination. “I've given your appearance a lot of thought, yes.”
Cas frowned. “If this is about my trench coat, I've told you that I find it – “
Dean surged forward. His lips met Cas' mouth. It was a slow and hesitant kiss and he instantly retracted. “Cas, sorry – “
Cas' entire world realigned, perspective and views shifting until everything, his entire being, all that he knew could be divided by a singular point: before and after. He didn't have a conscious thought, he just knew that he pulled Dean towards himself. They met in a frenzy of hands, touches and hungry kisses.
Dean tasted like coming home, the still waters on a cold lake in the crisp morning, with faint traces of metal and the beer he'd had earlier. He tasted like life and Cas kissed him like a dying man finally finding reprieve.
Finally, they pulled away from each other, but not too far away.
Dean's hand was still around his neck, his nose against Cas' own. Dean was breathing heavily, staring down at Cas' knees as if he had to gather himself from the enormity of what had just happened.
Cas hadn't let go of Dean's hair, his fingers carding and caressing.
Dean's voice was husky but layered with emotion. “Was that... is this still good?”
Cas' mouth split into a smile. “Yes, Dean, it's still good.”
Bacon jumped down as Dean leaned into Cas as if offended that they had totally forgotten about her in all her feline majesty.
They leaned into and kissed each other again, their fervor not diminished in the slightest.
Cas was finally home.