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The grass felt nice in his back. Soft, comfortable. Natural. It smelled nice, too. It smelled fresh, inevitably inducing associations of a warm, peaceful summer.
Cas turned his head slightly to the side. A single longer blade of grass that was standing out weakly poked into his cheek. Dean was there right next to him, lying in the soft grass of this meadow, just like Cas himself, their hands weakly intertwined in between them.
The green of the grass was tying in beautifully with the green of Dean’s eyes, Cas thought.
Dean now noticed Cas’s gaze on him, and he turned his face as well.
“What?” he asked quietly. It wasn’t loud, barely more than a breath, a whisper, but loud enough for Cas to hear, and that was what counted.
A warm smile made its way over Cas’s face.
“I’m proud of you,” he said.
“Why’s that?”
A bee flew by Cas’s ear. There was that familiar buzz for just a second, a tiny body moving by just in the corner of his eye, and then it was gone again, probably off to focus on one of the various colourful flowers all around them.
“You’re here,” he explained quietly, “with me, like that. Holding my hand, for all world to see. A younger version of you would’ve never done this, not even with a gun to his face. You’ve come a long way”
Dean’s immediate reaction was a little smile. He wordlessly looked into Cas’s eyes for a moment.
“Yeah,” he then said. “I guess, younger me would’ve been ashamed. Today’s me knows that you’re the best that’s ever happened to me, and there’s literally nothing at all to be ashamed of. It’s who I am, and I like who I am”
A soft smile from Cas.
“I’m proud of who you are,” he whispered.
“Yeah, me too,” Dean breathed. “I’m proud of who I am”