Chapter Text
“Cas what’s that?”
Dean was out on a beer run, Jack was in his room. Only Cas and Sam remained in the bunker library, doing research for a local ghoul case.
Cas had been absentmindedly fiddling with a rectangular object in his hands. Clearly frustrated with the lack of progress he was making. Computer based research still wasn’t his strongest suit, yet he wanted to be helpful and so he soldiered through.
“Oh it’s- it was a gift” Cas replied, his gruff voice almost reading as shy. Sam couldn’t gauge why.
He tucked whatever it was back into his one of his trench coat pockets gently, and then patted the item lightly as if to make sure it was still there.
“From who? What is it?” Sam’s curiosity was piqued. Cas didn’t have any friends that he knew of besides them, and he was sure the other angels weren’t gift giving types.
Cas hesitated as if he weren’t sure he was allowed to say anything. He didn’t know why he felt that way so he pushed it aside and answered.
“It’s a mixtape. Dean made it for me.”
Sam’s eyes widened for a split second. His mouth threatened to turn up at the edges but he pressed his lips together just as quick.
“Dean made you a mixtape?” He asked slowly. There was humour in his tone for reasons Cas didn’t understand.
He tilted his head slightly, confused. “Yes. Why is that funny?”
“It’s not funny, I just uh- Can I see it?” Sam continued to press down a smile and looked up at Cas with raised brows.
Cas couldn’t think of a reason why not, though he was still hesitant, especially now that Sam was reacting oddly. He removed the tape from his pocket and tentatively passed it over to Sam who was now grinning.
“Oh wow. This is. This is great.” He smiled up at Cas, reading the handwritten label on the tape.
Cas smiled lightly. It was great. It was from Dean.
“Zeppelin huh. That’s uh. Interesting. You know our parents loved that stuff.” Sam stated too casually. He had a mischievous glint to his eyes as he passed the tape back to Castiel.
Cas feared he had made a mistake. He was going to inquire further about Sam’s seemingly strange reaction before the bunker door swung open.
“I come bearing gifts!” called out Dean.
He came down the stairs and casually dropped two six-packs onto the table, before slouching into a chair next to Cas.
Sam spared no time.
“Yeah, I’ve been hearing all about your gifts Dean.” He coughed out, his tone teasing.
Dean frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Cas looked around nervously. This conversation seemed like it wasn’t going to end with a happy Dean.
“Nothing, nothing.” Sam smirked lightly. It wasn’t nothing, and Cas could tell Sam would bring this up again.
Dean looked back and forth between Cas and Sam with a frown trying to figure out what he’d missed, but before he could say anything Sam spoke up.
“Anyways I think I’ve got something on this ghoul.”
•
They were exhausted.
What they had thought to be one ghoul had turned out to be five. The energy in the Impala on the drive back was tense to say the least... they were all worn out and grumpy. Except for Jack who seemed happy to be involved as ever.
“Put on some music, it’s too quiet.” Dean gruffly gestured his head to the tape deck. The frown that had been plastered on his face unwavering.
“Any requests guys?” Sam looked back at Jack and Cas.
Cas remained silent, looking out the window. He’d been ambushed by three of the ghouls during the hunt. They’d been no match for him, but Dean had blown up over it. So now they all suffered the silent treatment.
Jack spoke up carefully “I like Lizzo, me and Cas listen to he-“
“Yeah that’s not happening.”
“Dean.” Sam chastised.
At that Dean sighed, tilting his head up to the roof in frustration. Sam continued to glare at him.
“Sorry Jack. We uh don’t have any Lizzo here.” Dean managed to sound genuinely apologetic.
“That’s okay Dean.” Jack seemed happy enough with that.
Dean glanced over at Sam to make a ‘happy now?’ face, but the younger brother seemed to be too busy contemplating something. Whatever it was couldn’t be good because he looked much too happy about it.
Dean looked back out at the road. Sam finally spoke up after a few moments.
“What about ‘Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx’?”
The Impala swerved for a split second.
Dean’s face straightened out. He looked up at a still silent Cas through the rearview mirror, before abruptly looking away.
“What?” Dean tried sounding confused.
“Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx... with two X’s” Sam repeated, the smile audible in his tone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean coughed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
Dean glanced at Cas again, nervously. The man in the backseat was now looking at Dean with his head tilted in confusion.
“Dean, he’s talking about the gift you gave me.” His tone was genuine, almost sad.
Dean’s face softened. Of course he hadn’t forgotten. He almost wanted to say as much to get that sad look off of Castiel’s face.
“Yeah Dean, the mixtape you made Cas.” Sam smirked up at him with raised brows.
At that Dean’s expression hardened.
“Yeah, and? What’s the big deal?” He had given up on the forgetful charade.
“Did you play it out of a boom box the first time or-?” Sam muttered under his breath teasingly, his tone light, clearly not malicious.
“He’s got crap taste in music, I was trying to help him out!”
Cas interjected.
“I think Lizzo is a perfectly respectable music artist Dean.”
“Cas you’re not helping.”
At that Cas squinted. He was perpetually confused with this conversation. What was the big deal with the mixtape?
“This conversation is confusing.” He stated plainly.
At that he received a soft sympathetic smile from Sam, who Dean was glaring daggers at.
“Dean do you have a crush on Cas?” Jack suddenly interjected innocently.
Many things happened at once.
Sam half choked himself to death trying not to burst out into a fit of hysterics. The Impala swerved again much more dramatically, before Dean was able to guide it back. And Castiel’s head whipped to the side to face Jack with wide questioning eyes.
“What, what I- What?!” Dean managed to sputter out.
Jack — confused at the reactions he’d received —continued on, more unsure of himself this time.
“I- In the movies I’ve watched that’s what it means when you make someone a mixtape.” The statement coming out more like a question.
Sam contemplated taking out his phone to film the moment.
Before Dean could answer, Cas intervened.
“Jack, not everything from pop culture is accurate to real life. Some things are just friendly gestures.” The hint of sadness in his tone did not go undetected by either Sam or Jack.
“Oh. Okay.”
Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He took down a mental reminder to wake up early and spit in Sam’s smoothie the next morning.
•
The following night Dean wandered into the bunker’s kitchen for a glass of water, or something stronger. He hadn’t made up his mind yet.
But then, there was Cas sitting by himself at the table, mixtape in hand. Dean inwardly swore.
He hadn’t necessarily been avoiding him, but ever since the awkward car ride he definitely had been more reserved around Cas. Sam had noticed and commented on it, he seemed apologetic. Dean was going to let him feel bad for another day or two.
He finally took in a breath and walked up to the fridge. Cas noticed him then.
“Hello Dean. Couldn’t sleep?”
“Yeah not so much.” Dean settled on a beer, and walked over, taking the seat opposite Cas.
Cas eyed the bottle disapprovingly but didn’t say anything. He continued to fiddle with the mixtape. He held it in his hands running his thumbs over the writing on the front. It seemed as if he found it comforting.
Dean took a swig before talking.
“You sure like that thing huh.” He tried sounding casual and light, but affection and a hint of pride seeped through his voice.
Cas merely nodded, not looking up.
“Didn’t realise you’d end up being such a Led Zeppelin fan.” He continued with the same feigned lightness.
“It’s not about the band.”
Dean knew he should probably leave it there. But he wanted to keep pushing. He couldn’t stop himself, for some reason he felt bolder than usual in that moment.
“Then what’s it about?” He didn’t mean to gulp as he finished his question, but he felt tense.
Cas finally looked up. Eyes not revealing anything, though he smiled softly.
“It’s because it’s from you Dean. I appreciate it.”
Dean blinked rapidly before huffing out a laugh.
“Well aren’t you sentimental.”
Cas smiled again.
“I’m sorry Sam was teasing you about it. I wouldn’t have told him if I-“
“Hey man thats not on you. He was being a dick all on his own.” Dean shook his head and took another sip.
“Still, I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable with the-“ Cas looked around awkwardly “-the uh implications he was making. I didn’t realise until Jacks comment.”
Dean’s face began to heat up. He should’ve just stayed in bed.
“Hah. It’s no big deal pal.” His voice was unconvincingly gruff and jokey.
As he considered what Cas had said, a wave of sadness hit him suddenly. His throat felt tight.
“So you uh-“ He didn’t know what he was going to say or how to say it, so he just took another sip.
Cas looked at him questioningly however, so he tried again.
“What uh- what did you think when I first gave it to you?” Dean asked vaguely.
Cas tilted his head ever so slightly.
“I was very happy, I’ve never gotten a gift before.”
At that Dean’s heart melted.
“No but- What about the songs, what did you- Like all of it. What did you think it meant?” He had no idea what he was doing or why, but he was being pulled further and further down this path.
Cas only looked more confused.
“I enjoyed the songs, though that may be because I know you enjoy them. I thought it was a helpful gesture to try and broaden my musical tastes.” Cas responded. He stared at Dean inquisitorially.
Dean nodded tensely before getting up and walking back to the fridge.
“Did I misinterpret it’s meaning?” Cas asked carefully, sounding worried.
Dean stared into the open fridge. He sighed. Even he wasn’t sure of the answer.
Sure, he’d gone into it thinking he was just showing Cas some ‘real’ music. But then he’d actually started putting the tape together. Picking the songs. Pouring over it. It had begun to feel like he was pouring his own heart into it. Things he couldn’t say himself, he could say through it.
That’s what made this moment difficult. How was he supposed to explain to Cas the things he had needed a mixtape to try to express.
Instead he just picked up another beer and joined Cas at the table again. He opted for a slight topic change.
“What was your favourite song on it?”
Cas narrowed his eyes slightly, but to Dean’s relief he allowed the obvious detour.
“I quite liked ‘Good Times Bad Times’.”
“Figures.”
“There were a lot of songs about love on it.” Cas said suddenly. Even he looked surprised at the words having come out of his mouth. His oceanic eyes widening for a split second.
Dean choked down the sip of his beer that had seemed to have gotten stuck in place when Cas had spoken.
The silence was heavy. Dean heard himself breathe out. His head rang. He couldn’t form any coherent thought in that moment so he just answered.
“There were.”
“Why?”
There was determination in his voice, but Cas was looking at Dean almost fearfully, like he was watching something slip away. Whereas Dean’s eyes were darting around to various sections of the floor. Neither of them was able to stop the conversation however, both stuck, only able to go forward when running back seemed like the safer option. Dean took another sip of his beer.
“Because- I-“ he swallowed “-why do you think Cas?” Dean half whispered. His voice sounded choked. He couldn’t understand why his eyes were watering in that moment. Why did he feel like he was drowning? Why was he so scared?
“I don’t know Dean.”
At that Dean finally looked up at Cas, half pleadingly.
Cas looked back at him softly, but with frustration underlying his features. His brow furrowed. He continued.
“I don’t know what to think. I know what I want- I know what I hope- But I don’t know what you-“ Cas sighed, he was unable to get the words out.
Dean was surprised. It wasn’t often that Cas was unable to communicate coherently.
Dean breathed in deeply.
“Cas I-“
Cas looked up at him with soft eyes. They were tender. Comforting. But Dean still felt the room closing in around him.
“-I should go to bed. It’s late.”
For a split second Cas looked like he’d been slapped, but his face returned to its neutral state immediately.
“Of course Dean, I’m sorry. Good night.” He smiled slightly. It looked pained.
Dean hastily got up from his chair, not bothering to pick up the empty beer bottles from the table. He rushed out of the kitchen making a break for his room.
He lay awake most of the night.
It felt like a knife was twisting in his chest.