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“Do you ever think about the time we lost, not having this?”
Dean’s voice cuts through the comfortable quietness of Room 11, where they’ve been laying in bed trying to catch their breaths after what can be referred to as a "very thorough coital investigation" (when Cas refers to having sex as such, it makes Dean laugh hysterically, as if Cas is the funniest person on the planet, which is why he keeps doing it in the first place).
One of his hand wanders on Cas’ shoulder blade, the hunter’s fingertips caressing his skin softly in a gesture that’s so tender that it makes Castiel’s heart flutters, while his other hand cards through the angel’s hair.
If Cas didn’t know better, he’d agree that this is, actually, Heaven.
He raises his head from where it’s been resting on Dean’s naked chest instead, his fingers drawing the contours of his anti-possession tattoo, and looks into the hunter’s emerald greens.
“Why would I?” he asks sincerely, propping himself up on one elbow to keep his gaze on his boyfriend, his other hand resting on Dean’s hip, “it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”
A wild smile appears on Dean’s face, “okay, Dumbledork, no more Harry Potter movie nights for you.”
“I’m serious. Why would you waste any time regretting something when you could use that same time to have… steamy make-out session with me instead?”
Dean laughs at that, and it takes everything in Cas not to reach out and suck a kiss underneath his jaw.
Well, scratch that, actually.
“Mhm,” Dean hums in delight as Cas sucks a mark into his skin, “I’m not saying I’m regretting anything, I’m just… you know, if we could rewind our story, wouldn’t you do it? Tell yourself that it’s worth the fight in the end?”
“No,” Cas deadpans, letting go of Dean’s skin to nuzzle against his jaw, dragging his lips against the delicious burn of Dean’s stubble, “What matters is that I’m here, we’re here. I try not to look at our past mistakes too much, otherwise I can’t sleep.”
Dean turns his head just enough to brush his lips against his cheek, Cas closing his eyes on impact, enjoying the soft feeling of Dean against him. It’s not something they really talk about unless Castiel wakes up screaming into the night. He knows they’ll address it at some point, when they’re both ready to unpack this.
Not yet.
Dean’s lips are on his then, and Castiel just sinks in the feeling of Dean’s tongue mapping the contour of his mouth, Dean’s hand clutching him closer like he never wants to let go.
“Would you do it? Rewind?” Cas asks after Dean lets go of his lips with a soft sigh, his forehead still pressed against Cas’ and his eyes closed, “What would you tell your past-self, if you could?”
Dean smiles, eyes still closed, brushing a kiss on the corner of Castiel's mouth.
“I’d tell him it’s worth it. I’d tell him it’s all worth it because at the finish line there’s us, and a world where it’s okay to stay in bed all day to make out with an angel.”
Cas smiles at him as he opens his eyes again, drowning himself into the pool of green that he loves so much. Everyday Cas thinks it’s impossible to love someone as much as he loves Dean, yet he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into the rollercoaster of what loving Dean Winchester feels like.
“It is important to fight and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay though never quite eradicated,” he states solemnly, waiting for Dean to pick up.
When the hunter does, it’s with a snort that makes Castiel smile wide as he watches his boyfriend lose it all over again.
“Okay, Professor McGonagall, now I’m truly vetoing you from watching any Harry Potter movie ever again,” Dean says, fondness twinkling inside his eyes.
“That’s a Dumbledore quote, Dean,” Cas says, trying to keep a serious face and failing miserably so as Dean cracks up again, falling back on the mattress and carrying Cas with him.
“I know it is, but you’ve got that… That McGonagall vibe on you,” Dean gestures wildly, still unable to stop laughing as Cas resume his place on his chest.
“Bold of you to assume I’m a Gryffindor when I am, in fact, a Ravenclaw.”
“You’re a Hufflepuff, honey,” Dean answers right away, “and I won’t take any criticism.”
The next hour is spent thoroughly arguing about which Hogwart House they all belong to, with both of them finally agreeing that Castiel is, in fact, a Hufflepuff (just like Jack) when Dean definitely belongs in Gryffindor, and Sam’s “abso-fucking-lutely” a Ravenclaw.
When he lies in bed that night, Dean sleeping soundly with his arms wrapped tightly around him, Castiel reflects on the hunter’s question.
What would I tell Castiel, the angel that walked into that barn in South Dakota on September 18, 2008? What could I possibly state that prevents him from ever losing hope?
And suddenly it’s clear as day.
Everything you do, every choice you make, good or bad… It's all worth it, because it will lead you to him, and he will become everything you always thought you didn’t deserve.
He will be your Home.