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Dean taps.
Its a habit Castiel noticed shortly after he regularly started hanging around the Winchesters. Dean taps. Sometimes Sam taps too, but mostly its Dean.
Dean taps.
He taps his pen against the table when he’s nervous, taps his fingers absentmindedly when he’s looking through the local diner’s menu, taps his foot against the floor impatiently while he’s waiting to get the key to their most recent motel room. He taps the rhythm of Led Zepplin songs against the steering wheel, taps when he’s thinking, taps when he’s listening to a witness talk about what they saw. He taps morse code when he can’t speak, he taps and he taps and he taps.
And all this tapping is continuous. It’s a string of taps, one after another, completed absentmindedly. So Cas takes notice when he comes across a deliberate set of taps that stop.
-----
Sometimes, if it’s just him and Dean, Dean will tap three times.
He pats Cas on the shoulder, tapping three times before dropping his hand, he taps three times against the bathroom sink when he knows Cas is sitting on the motel bed nearby. He pulls Cas along by sleeve of his trench coat, tapping the fabric three times before letting go, he taps the menu three times while Sam is in the bathroom, he pulls Cas into his arms after he almost died and taps three times against his back. He taps three times against the doorframe before disappearing into his room for the night, three times against his pillow when he knows Cas is watching over him, three times against the angel’s arm after a bad nightmare because he knows his voice won’t hold up if he speaks.
Cas doesn’t bother questioning what it means, he’s seen Dean do it with Sam too, and thinks maybe it’s a human thing. But the longer he stays on earth and the more he learns about humans, the more he realizes, no one else really seems to do it.
He finally discovers what it means after a particularly long hunt and a particularly harsh fight. Cas cringes in the background as Sam and Dean yell at each other from across the map table until it becomes too much and Cas cuts them off.
“Enough.” He’s tired, and it’s evident in his voice.
The brothers turn to stare at him and the tension in the air is palpable, but they stop. They refuse to look at each other as Dean storms away, presumably to his bedroom to calm down, and maybe even sleep it off. The only sound to be heard is the thumping of Dean’s boots against the bunker’s floor, but Sam very deliberately knocks 3 times on the map table. Dean freezes in his tracks, turning slowly back around to face Sam, who is staring him dead in the eye. Cas can see them both fuming underneath, the anger welling up in their eyes, but Dean lifts up the phone in his hand and taps on it 3 times in response. Neither of them says anything, and Dean is soon out of sight, but the atmosphere is different.
Sam heaves a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Cas. Maybe we can come back to this later, once we’ve cooled down and rested for a bit.” He says, his gaze drifting towards the hallway where Dean disappears.
“Of course.” Cas pauses, “What was the tapping?”
“I don’t know where we picked it up,” Sam admits, “but neither of us is particularly good with our emotions, so if it’s too much to say, then,” He swallows “3 taps means I love you.”
And suddenly, a lot of things make sense.
Dean taps.
Dean taps because it’s an alternate way of communicating.
Dean taps because words can be too much sometimes. There is too much going on in his head, years of bad habits, repressed trauma, feelings he won’t admit to.
Dean taps because he loves too much, but love is dangerous.
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One day, they’re in a motel, Sam is out getting food, and Dean is pouring over research in attempts to figure out what they’re hunting. He’s tapping absentmindedly against the table and then stops. He glances over at Cas on the bed, quickly adverts his eyes, and taps three times. It takes a second for Cas to reply, but Dean’s eyes are drawn to him as he walks over to the wall, and knocks against it.
The hunter’s eyes widen, green full of hope and fear, frozen in his seat. He clears his throat uncomfortably. “Do you- uhh- know what that means?” He asks as if he’s just afraid Cas will admit he’s copying what he had seen Sam do.
“I love you too,” Cas says, in lew of a proper response.
“Right, uh. Right.” He looks embarrassed. “I mean, I do that with Sam too, but I- it’s different with- well.”
“I know,” Cas reassures him, coming over to stand next to the table, where Dean hurriedly evacuates his seat. He stands next to the angel, a little pink in the face like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, but Cas cradles his face in his hands, and taps three times against his cheek, softly.
They lean in and kiss softly, and Dean slides his arms around the angel, tapping three times in response. They stand there for a few minutes longer, kissing, until they hear Sam at the door, and Dean jumps away embarrassed. Sam comes inside to find a red-faced Dean sitting at the table, Cas standing next to him. He raises an eyebrow in confusion, but Cas taps three times, and he understands. He smiles as he sets the food down and says nothing except a simple “Congratulations.”
Dean mumbles something that vaguely sounds like “Shut up, Sam,” burying his face in his hands, but reaches out and taps three times against the table.
“I love you too, Dean.”
------
So, yeah. Dean taps.
But now, Cas taps too.