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Dean thinks he can pinpoint when it first started. It was the anniversary of Mary Winchester’s death. He had holed up quietly in his room, drank maybe a bit too much, and woke up the next morning feeling absolutely awful. But, per every year since he had opened up about his childhood and grief, Cas had left some ibuprofen and a glass of water on his bedside table at some point after he had passed out.
“Do you need anything, Dean?” Cas would always say, rubbing gentle circles in Dean’s back as he puked his guts out. They’d spend the whole next day together in relative silence. Watching movies, not mentioning Dean’s behavior the day before. But this time, after they had finished watching the Star Wars Prequels for the thousandth time and prepared to retire to their bedrooms for the night, Cas had stopped him outside of the bathroom.
“What’s up, Cas?”
“I just wanted to tell you to have a good night.” Dean gave him a small smile, heading for his bedroom door.
“Well, uh, goodnight to you too, man.”
“Sleep well, Dean.” Sleep well. Sleep well.
Dean had stood still for a few minutes after Cas had disappeared into his own room, trying to understand what about that interaction was tripping him up. Sleep well. It’s a typical saying, right? Nothing to freak out over. Sure it’s maybe a bit more intimate than anything Dean would say, but Cas is an affectionate guy. Dean’s overthinking this. There’s nothing weird about wishing your best friend a nice rest. But then it seemed to become a habit. Every night without fail:
“G’night, Cas.”
“Sleep well, Dean.”
And it was always just to Dean. When Sam crashed on their couch it was “Have a good night, Sam”. If Cas got off the phone with Charlie or Gabriel it was “Night”. And Dean was definitely NOT smug about it at all. Really! It just felt good to be told to sleep well and know that Cas meant, sincerely, for him to have a good night’s rest. So of course, when Dean overheard Cas on the phone with Meg one night and happened to hear him end the conversation with “sleep well”, it kind of felt like a slap in the face.
What the fuck? Cas only says that to Dean. Why would Meg need to sleep well? She would probably still sleep perfectly fine without Cas saying anything. Without thinking, Dean stormed into Cas’s room, hurting for reasons he couldn’t quite place. “The fuck, Cas?”
“Dean? Is everything alright?”
“I heard you talking to Meg.” Cas blinked at him from his spot on the bed.
“O...kay. And what’s the problem?” How could Cas not get it? How could he not see what a betrayal this was?
“You told her to sleep well,” Dean’s cheeks were starting to burn with embarrassment. He was being overdramatic and definitely overcompensating. God why did he just barge in like that? Cas cocked his head to the side and squinted up at Dean, trying to figure him out. A look of fond understanding crossed his face. He stood up and carefully took Dean’s hand in both of his.
“Dean, Meg is my friend. Maybe even my best friend after you. You understand that, don’t you?” Dean couldn’t meet his eyes. Cas steamrolled on. “I told her to sleep well because I care about her, but if it bothers you that much, I won’t say it to her again.” Dean groaned and took his hand back.
“That’s not the point, Cas.”
“Then what is the point?” Cas finally caught Dean’s eye. For a moment, Dean’s brain was stuck on blueblueblueblueblue.
“I thought it was an us thing, okay? I don’t really know why I’m even in here right now. It just… bothers me.” Cas took another step forward and hesitantly brought one hand up to cup Dean’s face, the other sliding into place at the nape of his neck. He grabbed at Dean’s hair gently and lightly stroked his thumb along Dean’s jaw. Dean was practically frozen.
“Cas.”
“Hmm?”
“What’s this?” Cas gave a small smile and his gaze dropped to Dean’s mouth.
“I want to try something,” Cas spoke in a hushed tone. He wet his lips before bringing his eyes back up to Dean’s. “Tell me if this isn’t okay.”
Dean’s eyes fluttered shut as Cas pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. Holy fuck. He loves Cas. He loves Cas and he’s an utter idiot for not figuring it out sooner and oh god Cas just kissed me and I haven’t responded yet. Dean opened his eyes to see Cas regarding him impassively, keeping a carefully neutral face as he waited for Dean’s brain to stop imploding.
“Hey, Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“I think I love you.” Cas’s smile lit up his whole face. It was like staring at the sun.
“I think I love you too.” Dean let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and smiled what he hoped to be a charming smile back before tackling Cas onto his bed.
Later, after a few dozen more kisses and a talk that Cas insisted they have because “you can’t just jump into these kinds of things, Dean”, Dean found out that Cas’s bed is way more comfortable than his. And that Cas is happy to let him be the little spoon as long as it means that Dean won’t leave his side.
Cas turned off the bedside lamp and pulled Dean back flush against his chest. Dean could feel the steady rhythm of Cas’s heartbeat. Dean grinned in the dark. He grabbed the hand that Cas had draped across his stomach and dropped a kiss to his knuckles before closing his eyes. And there, in the darkness, right before he nodded off, Cas kissed the top of his head and whispered,
“Sleep well, Dean.”