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“Dean will you stop it,” Cas said, slapping his palm on the table. It stung, more so than it should have if he was at full power, but he ignored the feeling in favor of staring at the man across him, chest heaving.
Cas didn’t know the exact cause of the outburst. Maybe it was how Dean had just dismissed Cas’ fears over his wounds, claiming they weren’t worth it. Maybe it was the countless times Cas has been called “buddy” or “brother” when they both knew that neither fit. Or maybe it had been waiting inside of him for a long time, since the first moment he had watched Dean and Anna kiss, something blooming inside him that he knew was not doubt. Either way, he was done with it.
“Stop what?” Dean asked after a beat, still sitting in his chair at the map table. He glanced over at Sam who was standing at the doorway, but Sam just shook his head.
“I think I’m going to go help Jack with his homework,” Sam said, fleeing the room before Dean could protest. Cas barely glanced his way, eyes still focused on Dean.
It was quiet with only the two of them. When Dean looked back at him they just stared, the way they have since Cas first pulled Dean out of hell and was reborn alongside him.
“Stop what, Cas?” Dean repeated, pushing out of his chair and standing in place.
Cas looked down at his hand, still pressed flat against the table, before resting it limply at his side.
“Stop putting on this act, pretending you don’t see what’s between us, that you can’t feel it in every thing you do,” Cas said.
“What are you talking about, man?”
That was it. Man. And buddy, and brother, and all the other terms that were supposed to soften the blow. But Cas wasn’t family, what bound him to Dean wasn’t blood but an endless series of choices that led him down the same road, the only one he had ever truly wanted to follow.
“I love you, Dean.”
It rang out between them, clear as the words he had once sung to all the angels. And although what he said was true, Cas wasn’t done saying his part.
“And I know you love me too,” he finished. “So why do this? Why dance around the truth? I want you, and I will want you until all that is left is dust and ash.”
His words were heavy, but they needed to be said. He was tired of unfinished sentences and half-voiced thoughts, things that could only be communicated through action because then they could be ignored.
Instead of responding, Dean started the long trek around the map table, stopping in front of Cas. If Cas had been an angel, and this had been a decade before, Dean would have made some quip about personal space. Cas didn’t want personal space. He wanted to share a kiss, a room, a life. He wanted far more.
Silence stretched between them, and Cas opened his mouth to try and fill it.
“Dean, I—
“Just shut up and kiss me,” Dean said, lips inches from his own.
Cas closed his eyes and leaned in, and only had enough time for one giddy thought before words were lost to him: so this is what it felt like to finally get what he wants.