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“Would you stop playing with that?”
The words were out of his mouth before Dean had even realized he was going to speak, and he immediately wished that he could’ve bitten them back. One of the smaller, but definitely annoying, parts of the Mark of Cain was his lack of filter. Words just spilled out before he had the chance to decide if he wanted to say them or not – and in this case, he definitely did not.
Sam’s hand paused and he turned to Dean with a surprised look. “What?”
“Never mind,” Dean muttered, turning his eyes back to the road, but Sam had already pulled his hand back from the fake Samulet that Marie had given to Dean. Putting it on the rear-view mirror had been an impulse move, but Dean hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It was a prop, a reminder of both a weird experience and better days gone by, and nothing more.
Except Sam had developed the bad habit of reaching out to play with the stupid thing every time he was distracted or thinking hard. It was annoying to have a hand stretched out into Dean’s field of vision like that, but even more than that, Sam playing around with the Samulet was always proceeded by –
Sam smirked over at him. “What’s the matter, Dean? Feeling tense because there’s too little Destiel in your life?” he asked teasingly.
By that.
“Shut the fuck up,” Dean mumbled, stomach churning for reasons he really did not want to express to his brother. Sam’s shit-eating grin just widened, and he chuckled to himself even as he dropped his hand back into his lap. Dean ignored him and focused on the road. The teasing rankled, but at least Castiel hadn’t been around to hear it.
But naturally, that reprieve didn’t last long.
They were in Idaho and had stopped for the night. Dean was tired – or maybe cranky was the better word for it. The itch to kill something was churning in his gut, but he was doing his damndest to ignore it. He thew his bag down in the corner of the room and slumped into the bathroom to turn the shower on. He turned the water as hot as it could go and then jumped in, determined to stay in until the water went cold no matter how much Sam would bitch later on.
He felt marginally more human by the time he got out, and the only thing on his mind was a huge cheeseburger with bacon – right up until he opened the door and saw that Castiel had joined them. The angel had obviously stopped by the Impala, because the Samulet was swinging from one outstretched index finger. His face was set in that classic, faintly baffled, ‘humans are weird’ expression.
“It was actually kind of cool, weird as it was,” Sam was saying as he rifled through his bag. “Dean and I learned a lot, didn’t we, Dean?”
Castiel’s head turned to look in Dean’s direction, and Dean was suddenly very aware that the only thing he was wearing was a towel wrapped around his waist. A weird mixture of shame and arousal curled in his chest as Castiel’s eyes pinned him in place. He couldn’t help staring back, even though Sam was now looking back and forth between them and making a show of rolling his eyes.
“I think those kids had it right with the whole Destiel thing,” Sam muttered.
“Destiel?” Castiel repeated, not looking away from Dean, but the sound of his voice saying that word jolted Dean out of his stupor.
“It’s nothing,” Dean said heatedly, stalking over to his bag. He wished more than anything that Sam would drop it, but of course that didn’t happen.
“It’s a combination of yours and Dean’s name. In that play those kids were putting on, you and Dean were together,” Sam said.
Dean whirled around. “We were not!”
“Together?” Castiel echoed, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“Together romantically. Like you were a couple,” Sam said, smirking at Dean. “It was a whole DeanCas sort of thing. You know…” He made some obnoxious kissing noises, exaggeratedly smacking his lips.
“Sam!” Dean exclaimed.
Sam sniggered. “What’s the matter? A little too close to the truth?” he asked tauntingly.
“Just shut up!” Dean yelled at him, not even daring to look at Castiel. Instead, he grabbed a pair of jeans, some boxers, and a shirt and stormed into the bathroom to get dressed. The grating sound of Sam’s laughter came through the door and made his irritation deepen as he quickly hauled on his clothes.
He debated going back into the room, but honestly, he didn’t think he could stand dealing with Sam tonight. Luckily, there was another way out. Like most shitty motels, it didn’t take much effort to force the window open. Dean put a foot up onto the frame, the other up on the rim of the toilet, and heaved himself out. He nearly fell onto the ground face-first but managed to catch himself just in time.
“Stupid Sam,” he muttered under his breath, hopping down to the ground. A couple people walking by looking at him strangely, but Dean ignored them. He straightened up and adjusted his shirt, belatedly realizing that he didn’t even have his wallet on him. It was still sitting in his bag.
Well, that was fine.
Three hours later, Dean smirked and tossed off a careless salute to the four men whose asses he had just whipped in pool. He tucked several bills into his pocket and headed over to the bar. He took a seat on one of the stools and sighed with satisfaction: he didn’t think that parting fools from their money would ever get old. And it only got better when the hot bartender walked over to him with a particular sway to her hips.
“Hey,” she said with a sultry smile. “What can I get you?”
“I’m not sure, but I can tell you I’m real thirsty,” Dean said, smiling back. There was no way he was going back to the room he’d gotten with Sam tonight, and he didn’t have the keys to the Impala on him, but he’d gotten enough money from those idiots to get another room if need be.
Her smile widened. “We have lots of good things on the menu,” she said, leaning her arms on the bar. That allowed Dean to get a nice peek down her top, and he definitely liked what he saw.
“Why don’t you recommend something?” he suggested, letting himself lean forward too. That brought him close enough to be able to tell that she was wearing perfume. It smelled soft and florally and nice. His head started to fill with images of the two of them in bed together.
But suddenly, she straightened up. Her smile faded and then she sighed. “I should have known,” she grumbled, turning on her heel and stomping away.
“Wait, what?” Dean said to her back, utterly baffled, right before that all-too-familiar feeling of someone being all up in his personal space washed over him. He closed his eyes in momentary resignation, knowing that if he opened them, he would find an angel standing at his elbow. An angel that was standing much too close for anyone else’s comfort, and which definitely gave people the wrong idea.
“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, practically in his ear, and Dean groaned.
“Damn it, Cas,” he said, opening his eyes. That wasn’t the first woman that Castiel’s lack of personal space had chased away and sadly, she probably wouldn’t be the last.
“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked, sounding a little weird. When Dean turned his head, he saw that Castiel was wearing a too-innocent expression that suggested he knew exactly what he was doing. Dean scowled at him and made it a point to stand up and move to the next stool over to put some space between them.
“You know what’s wrong. That girl was really pretty, and you chased her away,” Dean grumbled. “Wait… Sam isn’t with you, is he?” He looked around, a bit alarmed at the thought. Sam was the last person he wanted to see.
“No. After we discovered that you had left the bathroom through the window, Sam locked himself in to take a shower. I left just as he was yelling about the lack of hot water.” There was a small, knowing smile playing around Castiel’s lips, and despite himself Dean smiled back.
“I hope he got a faceful of icy cold water,” Dean said, glancing over at the bartender. She wouldn’t meet his eye, but her co-worker looked their bar. Dean motioned to the beers and held up two fingers.
Castiel sat down next to him, balancing a little awkwardly on the stool. Though he was much better at pretending to be human after all this time, it was usually the little things like this that gave him away as something otherworldly. Dean couldn’t have expressed in words exactly what it was, but it was all there in the way that Castiel stiffly gripped the stool with his knees and sat with his back straight, like he was relying on certain inhuman appendages for balance.
“Are you okay?” Castiel asked finally, and Dean sighed.
“I’m really not in the mood for a chick flick conversation, Cas,” he muttered.
“Are you ever in the mood for those conversations?” Castiel wanted to know.
“No,” Dean said, but he had the feeling that wasn’t going to be enough to get Castiel to drop it. Unfortunately, that feeling turned out to be right.
“It upset you,” Castiel said quietly. “When Sam was talking about you and me being together. It’s insulting to you.” And oh great, now Castiel was the one who sounded upset. Dean snuck a quick glance at him and sighed when he saw that Castiel was frowning.
“It’s not that,” Dean said reluctantly. “It’s not insulting at all.”
“Then what is it?” Castiel looked over at him before Dean could look away, and the full force of those sad blue eyes hit Dean like a punch to the stomach – except he was pretty sure that no punch to the stomach had ever hurt as much as the look on Castiel’s face right then. It made Dean feel like the worst kind of monster.
“I’m aromantic,” Dean heard himself say. Once again, the words spilled out before he could stop them. He immediately froze, heart starting to race.
He had never said that out loud before.
“Okay,” Castiel said. He still looked confused, which was to be expected given that most people didn’t know what that meant.
Luckily, the bartender came over with their beers at that moment and he was able to gain a precious few seconds by taking a long swig. It wasn’t his favorite kind of beer, but it was cold and helped to get his thoughts in order. He knew Castiel well enough to know that the angel wasn’t going to let this go, so it was best to be short and succinct about it.
Dean lowered his glass and said, “I don’t do relationships. I don’t really fall in love. None of that romantic crap interests me, and it never has. I love sex, but that’s about as far as it goes. It’s one of the reasons why I couldn’t make things happen with Lisa. She was expecting me to marry her. She wanted me to her husband. And that doesn’t fly with me. I couldn’t give her that, not like she wanted.”
He had to force himself to stop and take a breath. Remembering those nights with Lisa still hurt. She’d been so mad, so upset, and so disappointed in him. Like she genuinely couldn’t understand why Dean wouldn’t give her what she wanted, because it was all so simple to her. He knew that in the end, she’d assumed it was something to do with Dean being a hunter. But that wasn’t the case because Sam wasn’t like that. Sam had been more than ready to do the 2.5 kid thing with Jessica and then again with Amelia.
“I know,” Castiel said.
“You – wait, what?” Dean said, turning to him with a baffled expression.
Castiel merely looked back at him. “Dean, I rebuilt you from nothing. I cradled your soul in my grace,” he explained slowly, as though he was talking to a small child. “I know far more about you than you could have imagined.”
“So… wait.” Dean had to take another sip of beer to help process that. “Why didn’t you say anything before?!”
“You dislike talking about “chick flick” stuff,” Castiel said, making the quotes with his fingers. “I always assumed that it wasn’t something you wanted to discuss.”
Dean opened his mouth and then promptly closed it, because yeah – that was actually a fair assumption to make, wasn’t it? If it weren’t for Sam being a gigantic asshole, then Dean never would’ve been having this conversation. Still, it was annoying to know that one of his biggest secrets wasn’t, in fact, an actual secret.
“Then… what Sam was saying, it didn’t bother you?” Dean said warily. He knew there was always something between him and Castiel. Something that was more than anything Dean had ever felt before. But he had never tried to quantify it for fear that he might end up losing everything. He didn’t know what he’d do without Castiel. The angel had become as much of a necessary constant in his life as Sam.
“Not at all,” Castiel said. “I have always loved you, Dean, and I suspect that I always will.”
Dean had just taken his third swig of beer and ended up choking. Looking amused, Castiel reached over to touch his arm. The beer that Dean had aspirated into his lungs vanished instantly, and this time his lungs actually functioned when Dean inhaled. So Dean took a couple of deep breaths, staring at Castiel.
“You – you can’t – did you not hear what I just said?!” Dean blurted out.
“You said you don’t do romantic relationships, and that romance does not interest you,” Castiel recited.
“Then you can’t say shit like that,” Dean hissed at him.
“Love can take many forms, Dean. It need not always be romantic in nature,” Castiel said gently. “That is something that you and Sam taught me. I don’t need romance from you. I never have. It is enough for me to stay by your side, and it always has been.”
“But don’t you like… want more?” Dean said suspiciously because this sounded way too good to be true.
“No,” Castiel replied. “Relationships and romance seem very confusing to me.” He frowned to himself. “I’m sure they are enjoyable, but it seems like the sort of thing where it’s only enjoyable if it’s something that both parties want. You don’t, and I don’t think that I do either, so…” He looked at Dean expectantly.
“Right,” Dean said. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation – couldn’t believe that for once, it was actually going well. Usually by now, a beer would’ve been dumped on his head. People couldn’t seem to understand, or maybe just didn’t want to accept, what little Dean had to give.
He dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious – trust it to be an angel that finally understood. He couldn’t bring himself to say that he loved Castiel back, even though it was the truth. It was too much right now, and too uncomfortably close to what Lisa had tried to force out of him so many times. But there was something else he could say instead.
“I want you stay with me too, Cas,” he said.
Castiel smiled. It was a really nice smile. His blue eyes positively sparkled. Despite himself, Dean found himself smiling back. Maybe the whole ‘Destiel’ thing didn’t have to be such a big deal. Sam would get tired of it once he realized that it no longer bothered Dean. And now that Dean knew it wasn’t going to give Castiel any wrong ideas, he could kind of see the humor in it.
“There is one more thing, though,” Castiel said, picking up his own beer finally.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Dean asked. His beer was half empty. He motioned to the bartender for another and tossed back what remained in his glass.
“I know you said no romance, but I would very much like to experience having sex with you. I hear it’s a very enjoyable experience.”
For the second time that day, Dean choked on his beer. And for the second time, a smirking angel had to rescue him.