Work Text:
Dean pulls Cas out of the Empty and into his arms. He buries his face in his shoulder, tucking his nose against Cas’ neck, and digs his fingers into Cas’ back, holding him close, closer. Cas returns the favor by wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and squeezing, exhaling shaky breaths into the space between them.
“ Cas,” he breathes. “Cas.”
“Dean,” Cas murmurs, and oh Dean missed him, missed his gravely voice and his ozone-strawberry scent.
When Dean pulls back--minutes or years later, he doesn’t know--his eyes are welling up and a smile breaks out on his face without permission. Cas looks at him and smiles.
“You got me out,” he says, softly.
“‘Course I did,” Dean says, voice thick, then Sam clears his throat and Dean reluctantly untangles himself from Cas so he can step aside, and Sam can swoop Cas into a giddy hug.
“We actually did it,” Sam says, laughing, and Dean grins, exhales a laugh, elation welling up inside him, and Cas is beaming, his smile so, so beautiful. “We saved the world, we got Cas back.”
“We killed God,” Dean adds, and Sam throws back his head.
“We did!” he says. Dean feels high on euphoria. He’s done everything he’s had to, and now he can tell Cas--
He can tell Cas, and they’ll be together, and everything will be perfect--
“What do we do now?” Sam asks, looking between the three of them, his arm still around Cas, and Dean laughs, shoves lightly at his brother.
“Ain’t it obvious, Sammy?” he says. “Now we go to the beach.”
--
The high of earlier doesn’t fade as they load their things into the Impala, packing up the towels and pool floaties Dean grabbed from Walmart while Cas looked for swimsuits and Sam stocked up on beer and chips.
Their first stop is Eileen’s, and Dean honks the horn when they pull up to her house before Sam hisses, not angry at all, that Dean’s being an idiot and Eileen can’t hear , dumbass.
“Oh, right,” Dean says, feeling kind of stupid and still kind of high on endorphins or whatever the happy chemical is. Cas is in the back with blue plastic sunglasses on and Dean is going to tell him, maybe on the trip or maybe when they get home, and everything is going to be great. Better, even.
Sam shoots out a text to Eileen and she bounds out with a duffel bag over her shoulder. She’s wearing a tank top and jeans, flip-flops smacking against the pavement, and she throws her bag into the back and then signs something at Cas, who laughs and opens his own door.
“Of course,” he says, signing the words as he says them, and he walks around the Impala as Eileen tugs on Sam’s flannel.
Sam climbs over the back seat and Cas slides into shotgun. Dean beams at him and Sam settles next to Eileen. She kisses him and Dean revs the engine.
“Florida, here we come!” he cries and Cas and Sam cheer.
Dean tears out of Eileen’s neighborhood and heads toward the freeway, merging onto I-40 and cruising southeast.
It’s a seventeen hour drive, and they drive about six, blaring Zepp the whole way. Sam and Eileen converse quietly (by texting each other, and more-than-occasionally giggling) in the back and Dean keeps his eyes on the road, sneaking glances at Cas and making a plan.
Here’s what Dean’s gonna do:
One of the nights they’re at the beach, he’ll ask Cas to take a walk with him. They’ll walk on the sand while the sun sets over the water, turning the ocean pink and orange, and Dean will hold Cas’ hand. Cas will stop walking and tilt his head in confusion, and Dean will tell him. He’ll tell him, and they’ll have their first kiss on the beach, water lapping around their ankles and their toes in the sand.
When they stop for the night, Dean books them another shitty motel with the promise of a nice hotel tomorrow night. Sam and Eileen take a queen and after they leave Dean books another single queen.
He’s impressed at his own balls, and he leads Cas to the room, hoping Cas will understand. Yes, Dean is going to say it, but it’d be easier if Cas just...understood.
Cas surveys the room, nods.
“I will take the chair,” he says, and he sits down. Dean puts his duffel on the bed, slightly confused.
“Why?” he asks, then he feels his face heat. Cas tilts his head.
“Because...I don’t sleep?” he says.
“Oh,” Dean says. “Right.”
He flees to the bathroom, face burning. How could he be so stupid ? Of course Cas doesn’t want to share a bed with him. Just because he’s in love, or whatever, doesn’t make him any less of an angel.
Dean splashes cold water on his face and strips to his undershirt and boxers. He stares at himself in the mirror.
Tell him , a little voice that sounds sort of like Sam says.
During the trip, Dean promises himself. Cas deserves better than a shitty, stumbling confession in a crappy motel room. He deserves something nice. Beach. Sunset. Romance. You’ve got this.
He goes back to the bed. Cas has turned on the TV and is watching some cooking show with the volume turned way low and the captions on, and Dean settles in, turning off the lamp and bringing the blankets up over his shoulder.
“I can change the channel,” Cas offers. Dean likes the sound of his voice in the dark. He can almost imagine forever like this--Cas in the chair beside the bed, the dark cradling them. Dean falling asleep to the sound of Cas’ breathing, every night.
“Nah, leave it,” he says. “Night, Cas.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas says, and is Dean imagining how hopelessly fond he sounds?
He falls asleep to the low murmur of the TV, and dreams of a sparkly sea, stretching for miles and miles without interruption.
--
When Dean wakes up, sunlight streaming through the motel window, he’s alone. The TV is off and Cas’ chair is vacated. Dean figures he must’ve went out to get some coffee or something, so he gets up and takes a quick shower, puts on fresh clothes and even brushes his teeth for the first time in...well. Dean’s not particularly inspired to commit to dental hygiene when Cas isn’t around.
Dean grabs his duffel and keys and goes outside, where he finds Cas and Sam and Eileen standing around the Impala.
“What’s up?” he asks, striding over to them. Cas turns to him, smiling.
“I saw Jack last night.”
“Oh, really?” Dean asks, opening the trunk and letting Sam and Eileen put their bags inside before he puts his own in.
“He visited me after you fell asleep,” Cas says. “He told me all about his plans for Heaven.”
“Nice,” Dean says.
“Then he...gave me a gift,” Cas says.
“What kind of gift?” Eileen asks.
Cas’s eyes glow, blue-white. Dean can feel the power crackling off of him. Sam gasps.
“He gave you your mojo back!”
“Yes,” Cas says, smiling. “I am now fully-powered in a way I have not been since…..well, a long time.”
“That’s great!” Sam says.
“I’m so happy for you!” Eileen says.
“I’m gonna run an angel blade through my heart, be right back,” Dean doesn’t say, though he thinks it.
Cas is...fully juiced up. No longer teetering on the edge of human and angel, no longer susceptible to things like hunger, or pain, or sleeping, or emotions. If Cas is fully angel again, then there’s no way he feels anything more than--than general fondness for Dean.
Maybe Dean changed him, but Jack just hit the reset button on all of that.
Dean swallows, looks away, says “Awesome,” in a dull voice. He ignores the looks Cas and Sam are surely giving him, and thumps the roof of the Impala. “Let’s get on the road. Got a lot more driving to do today.”
They load in, Sam and Eileen in the back and Cas sitting shotgun. Just like yesterday.
“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asks quietly. Dean keeps his eyes on the road.
“Peachy,” he says, and he puts his foot on the gas.
--
The rest of the drive is passed with Dean keeping his eyes firmly on the road, ignoring Sam and Eileen’s giggling in the back and the concerned glances Cas keeps sending him. Sam makes him stop driving after a miserable lunch at the Dairy Queen Grill & Chill, and Dean gets in shotgun, pressing his face firmly against the window, crosses his arm, and stares stubbornly at one of the mossy green trees outside.
“Um, okay,” Sam says. Dean can hear his eyeroll. “Cas, do you mind sitting in the back with Eileen?”
“Not at all,” Cas says. He slides into the back. Eileen’s probably glad for someone who’s actually fluent in ASL, Dean thinks, and Sam starts the car and Dean keeps glaring outside the window until they stop again.
--
They pull up to the hotel around ten-thirty that night, Dean dropping Eileen off to run inside to grab them rooms. When Dean rolls down the window, he can smell the salty sea air.
This is everything he’s ever wanted, he reminds himself. Even if he can’t take Cas out to the beach at sunset and hold his hand and kiss him like he means it, he can still have fun. He’ll still have a great day.
Cas, Dean, and Sam walk into the lobby, loaded down with duffel bags and pool floaties. Eileen grins at them and doesn’t offer to help, just tosses a keycard at Dean’s chest.
“I got rooms next to each other,” she says. “Come on.” She leads the way to the elevator and laughs at Sam when he has to squish himself through the doors.
Dean elbows the fourth floor button since he’s closest, and they fall out of the elevator when the doors open. Eileen swipes the door to her and Sam’s room open, and nearly pushes him in.
“Goodnight, guys,” she says, waggling her fingers and grinning and leaving Cas and Dean alone in the hallway.
Alone in the hallway.
Dean fumbles as he tries to unpeel the card from the little cardboard sleeve, sticking it into the card reader and pushing the door open when the light turns green. He flicks open the lights.
Eileen got them a double, with two queen beds and a TV hanging between them. Dean hasn’t been in a hotel in a long time, but the sheets are white and clean and the carpet smells fresh. There’s a little kitchenette in the corner and the bathroom is big and mold-free.
“Nice digs,” Dean says, dropping his bag on his bed and trying not to look at Cas.
“Yes,” Cas says. He puts his duffel on a chair and runs his hands along the bedspread. “Very nice. You chose well, Dean.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dean mumbles, blushing. Now what?
Dean grabs his stuff and goes into the bathroom. He takes a very long shower, spending a lot of time just standing there, staring at the wall.
He doesn’t know what he expected. That he could just, what, hold Cas’ hand and dance off into happily ever after? On the beach, during sunset? How pathetic is that. Obviously Cas would never...he’d never…
Dean growls and shuts off the water. He dries off and throws the towel into the shower, then gets dressed and curls up in bed.
“Are you alright?” Cas asks. When Dean looks at him, he sees that Cas has gotten out two beers and is sitting at the table. Dean wants to cry.
Instead, he pulls the blanket over his head.
“Peachy,” he mumbles. “Cas, I’m tired. I wanna be all good for tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay, Dean,” Cas says quietly. Dean’s probably upset him. He’s probably fucked it up like he fucks up everything.
Dean rolls over, keeping the blanket over his head, and curls up tighter.
When he sleeps, he dreams of nothing at all.
--
When Dean wakes up, he decides to pretend nothing is wrong and enjoy his fucking time at the beach. It’s only a matter of time before Cas takes off to hang out in Heaven with Jack, after all, and Dean’s gotta savor the time he’s got.
So he’s cheerful, going downstairs to pick up some of the free breakfast and bringing up a muffin for Cas. Cas takes it carefully, smiling at him, and Dean grins and says “Alright! Let’s get dressed and head down!”
The beach is only a short walk from the hotel. Dean even bought fuckin’ flip-flops for this.
He slips into the bathroom and strips off his sweatpants and t-shirts, swaps them for a pair of blue swim trunks and a button down with short sleeves. He puts on the flip-flops and frowns at his feet. These shoes are so weird.
He grabs a pair of sunglasses from his bag and walks outside the bathroom and promptly trips over his own fuckin’ bed.
Cas is wearing a swimsuit.
Cas is wearing a swimsuit.
CAS is WEARING a SWIMSUIT!!!
Dean hasn’t ever seen Cas in less than two layers that cover all of his arms and all of his legs, not counting the time April killed Cas and his shirt was open, and Dean was kinda distracted by the fact that Cas was dead. But the point is that Cas is always wearing like, an undershirt and a button-down and a suit jacket and a trenchcoat, at all times, except now, because he’s in yellow swim trunks and no shirt and when did Cas get that ripped?
“Are you okay?” Cas asks, coming toward Dean. He scrambles up from the bed, holding out his hands.
“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m fine, I’m fine, was just--I don’t know. Maybe it’s from driving all day yesterday, who knows.”
“You always drive for long periods of time,” Cas says, frowning. Dean forces a laugh and with much willpower, turns away from him. God. Get a hold of yourself, Winchester.
“Let’s go get Sam and Eileen!” Dean says with forced cheerfulness, and he grabs his towel and slings it over his shoulder, marches outside the room without turning around. He pounds on Sam’s door, and Eileen answers. She’s wearing a red swimsuit and a large floppy beach hat, and she grins at him.
“Sam!” she calls over her shoulder, and Sam comes up behind her, carrying his rafts and towel.
“Let’s go,” Sam says, and Dean steps back and gestures for Sam to lead the way.
Outside it’s hot and sticky, but Dean can hear the crash of the waves and the call of the gulls from overhead. The beach is calling him. It has been calling him for years, and now he’s here.
Dean grins. On the edge of the hotel’s property, there’s wooden steps that lead up to a short boardwalk over the sand dunes, then a few wooden steps to drop them off onto the sand. Dean shucks off his flip-flops and wiggles his toes. Finally.
The sea is a bit away, and umbrellas dot the beach. Sam has an umbrella in the stuff he’s carrying, and they walk down to the water, Eileen taking off her sandals to kick the sand at Sam and Sam trying to kick her back without dropping the stuff in his arms.
Cas frowns.
“I don’t think I like the texture of sand,” he says.
“Maybe we can get you some of those water shoes,” Dean says, looking at Cas’s face only.
Sam puts his umbrella in the ground and spreads out his towel. He grabs sunscreen from his bag and tosses it at Dean.
“I know you didn’t put any on yet,” he says, rolling his eyes. Dean looks at the bottle in his hands and has a vision--Cas’s big hands, rubbing sunscreen onto his back and chest, Cas staring at him intensely.
Dean’s brain shorts out.
He comes back online when Eileen pokes him.
“We’re going to the water,” she says. “Wanna come?” Dean looks up, and Sam and Cas already headed down, Cas twisting around to look at him, and Dean’s mind conjures up visions of Cas’ bare chest, water dripping down it, and he sits down.
“Nah,” he says. “I’ll just, um, watch the stuff.”
“Okay,” Eileen says skeptically, and she turns around, runs to join Cas and Sam.
Dean puts the sunscreen aside and stares at the water, watching some other family push water at each other, laughing and shrieking.
Dean turns and digs through the beach bag. He finds some romance novel and isn’t sure if it’s Eileen’s or Cas’, but he opens it to the first page anyway.
The plot is stupid and the main character’s an idiot, but Dean finds himself invested anyway. The ocean breeze curling around him and the smell of the sea air lead to some nice ambiance, and Dean can’t help but think this is pretty nice.
Pretty nice, but his feet are growing warm and so is his back and arms, but he can’t go in the water because Cas and his stupid partial-nudity are in the water. Dean casts a glance up at them and finds Eileen clinging to Sam’s back and Cas clinging to a noodle. He thinks he can see their heads tilted back in laughter, and his face burns and he shoves his face back into his book.
Some time later, when he’s about halfway through the book, a shadow falls over him. Dean looks up to see Cas, smiling at him.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, and Dean shoots to his feet, dropping the book and losing his place.
“Actually I’m gonna go in the water it’s so hot outside you’re naked I mean I’m naked and I need water bye!” Dean says, and he sprints across the sand. Except sprinting is hard and sand keeps flying everywhere. Jesus christ.
The water is cold but in a refreshing way, and Dean splashes his way toward Sam and Eileen.
“Finally, he emerges!” Eileen calls.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says, leaping up with a wave. The water is clear and Dean spots a fish under the flickering of the waves. He smiles at it and swims to Sam and Eileen.
He determinedly does not turn around and look at Cas, all alone on the beach. Not once.
--
At around one or two they get tired of only eating Dortios, and Dean makes Sam come with him to find some real grub.
“Dean, what is up with you?” Sam asks as they cross a parking lot, flip-flops smacking against the asphalt.
“Nothing’s up with me,” Dean says. “Hey, look, a Subway.”
“Dean, come on,” Sam says. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.”
“ You’ve been acting weird since yesterday,” Dean says, pushing past his brother to lead the way to the Subway.
“Shut up,” Sam says. “Come on, is this about Cas?”
Dean freezes.
“Is what about Cas?” he asks carefully.
“Are you upset that he’s a full angel again? You know that doesn’t mean he’s gonna leave, right?”
“Whatever, Sammy,” Dean mumbles, reaching for the door to Subway and pulling it open. He ushers Sam inside first and follows him in. They order three subs and four cookies, then take them all back to the beach. Luckily, Sam seems to have dropped the topic of Dean’s behavior.
Unluckily, Cas beams at Dean when he hands him the spare cookie, and Dean has to look away and, like, take deep breaths to calm down.
--
A few hours later, they head back to the hotel to change for dinner. Sam found some fancy seafood joint he wants to try out.
They get back to the room, and Dean winces when he pulls off his shirt. Cas frowns.
“Dean,” he says. “You’re sunburned.”
“I’m fine,” Dean says.
“Dean,” Cas says again, and he comes up to him, gets right into his personal space. “Let me?”
Mouth dry, Dean nods, and Cas puts his hands on Dean’s bare chest, and the tingle of grace flows through him, soothing and healing the burn.
Cas lifts his right hand and cups Dean’s cheek, his thumb brushing Dean’s nose, and heals the burn on his face, as well. Dean can’t tear his gaze away from Cas’, doesn’t know that he would even if he could.
Cas lets his hand linger, then steps away.
“We should get dressed,” he says, and Dean clears his throat and grabs his bag, fleeing to the bathroom.
--
Once Cas is fully dressed again--wearing a trenchcoat to the seafood restaurant, the dork--Dean is fine, so dinner is fine and normal. Dean relaxes into the ritual, orders a burger despite Sam bitching at him and lets Cas steal his french fries.
Sam and Eileen’s fish looks gross but smells good, and Sam makes Dean try a bite of his salmon and it’s not even that bad.
After, Eileen drags them to the shops that line this area. They’re all shitty and full of tourist-trappy crap, but Cas eats that stuff up, grinning at the keychains and eyeballing the BEACH BUM shirts like he wants one.
Dean rolls his eyes and throws one over his shoulder. Cas beams at him.
“Are you sunburned? Your face is red,” Sam informs him. Dean throws a pink flip-flop that feels like it’s made of cardboard at him and goes to find the water shoes or aqua socks or whatever they’re called.
In the back of the store, there are a bunch of tacky Hawaiian shirts, and Dean grabs three green ones, then pauses and grabs a fourth. When they’re back at the hotel, Dean tosses the X-L to Sam and the S to Eileen, tosses Cas an L and keeps the other for himself.
“Are you serious?” Sam says, holding it up and laughing.
“I don’t joke about matching shirts, Sammy,” Dean says.
“I love it,” Eileen says, putting hers on over her tank-top, and Cas holds his Hawaiian shirt and his BEACH BUM T-shirt and his aqua socks on his lap like they’re precious.
They all hang out in Sam and Eileen’s room for a while, turning on some reality TV show and making fun of the people on it, drinking beers and growing warm and happy. Dean could use some pie, but being here with his family is sweet enough.
--
Okay, so Dean might’ve had an ulterior motive when it came to the Hawaiian shirts, in that now Cas will be clothed when he goes to the beach. It’s a win/win, really, except when Dean comes out of the bathroom the next morning Cas is wearing his new shirt the same way Dean is--that is to say, open across his chest.
Dean walks into a wall, this time.
That bare strip of skin, tattoo barely peeking out as Cas moves, is somehow more tantalizing then seeing the whole of him, bare and exposed to the world.
“Are you hungover? I didn’t think you drank that much last night,” Cas asks, tilting his head. Dean wants to throw him on the bed and crawl on top of him and not let him leave until it’s time to go back to Lebanon, but he shakes his head and grabs the beer cooler and barks out, “I’m fine, let’s go.”
He stomps down to the beach, angry with himself for even thinking of stupid matching Hawaiian shirts, and plops his ass on the towel under the umbella.
“What is wrong with you?” Cas asks.
“Nothing,” Dean growls. Cas frowns, glares at him.
“Fine,” he snaps. “Don’t forget sunscreen.”
He lobs the bottle at Dean and turns around, stripping off his shirt and stalking toward the water.
“What’s going on with them?” Eileen asks Sam, who’s laying out his own towel. He lays down on it, stretching out and putting his hands behind his head, sunglasses on his face.
“I’ve decided I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Sam answers.
“Fair enough,” Eileen says, and she lays down beside Sam. Dean grumbles and puts on sunscreen, on his face and arms and chest and even his legs, but he doesn’t get his back and he doesn’t care. Whatever.
He finds the romance novel again and flips until he finds his spot.
When Cas comes back, dripping wet and glowing from the sun, Dean tries to get up but Cas growls, “Don’t,” and sits on Eileen’s other side, letting Dean stay curled under the umbrella like some kind of vampire.
Eventually Dean and Eileen escape into the ocean. When Dean turns back to look at the shore, Cas’ arms are crossed and he can nearly feel the force of his glare.
“I’m ruining everything,” Dean signs, and Eileen waits for a wave to pass before she shakes her head and says, “No you aren’t.”
“I could be,” Dean says.
“But you aren’t,” Eileen says, shrugging like it’s that simple. Dean isn’t really sure he can communicate any other arguments while signing so he lets it go.
--
When they get back to the hotel, Sam sticks his head into Dean’s room and says, “Hey, Eileen and I are going out. Catch you later,” and then leaves, the asshole. Dean hopes they have a real nice fucking date.
Dean lasts like thirty minutes sitting in the room with Cas, the History Channel playing something about aliens, before he gets to his feet.
“I’m going out,” he says, and he escapes before Cas can ask him where he's going.
He’s outside the hotel before he realizes he didn’t grab Baby’s keys, so instead he just goes to the beach.
The sun has mostly already set and Dean’s dressed in jeans, but he rolls them up to his mid-calf and just plods down, letting the water kiss his toes as he walks along the shore. Nobody’s swimming but he passes a group of kids running after something, shrieking with laughter, and down the way some teenager sets off a couple fireworks. An old lady and her husband are doing the same as Dean but the opposite direction, hands clasped firmly together. They nod at him when they pass, and he tries to muster up a smile.
God, he sucks. Here he is, wallowing, while Sammy and Eileen are having a nice date at some nice restaurant, and Cas is alone in the hotel room, watching History Channel and wondering what the fuck is wrong with Dean.
Dean turns around, intent on returning and trying not to be such shitty friend, but he startles, as Cas is standing right there, wearing a BEACH BUM t-shirt and pajama pants and fucking socks, arms crossed against his chest
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cas asks him, and Dean thinks he might cry. “You’ve been acting weird for the whole trip.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Dean says. “Come on, man.”
“No,” Cas says. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Cas pauses, swallows.
“I understand if my confession made you uncomfortable, but I was telling the truth that happiness is in just being. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“What?” Dean asks.
“I am content to just exist together,” Cas says. “I don’t need anything from you.”
Dean chokes.
“You mean you still….”
Cas frowns. “I’ve loved you from the minute I met you and will love you until the world ends for good. Nothing you could do would change that.”
“I thought...since you were angeled up again…”
“You thought wrong,” Cas says. He stares at Dean. Dean stares back.
Oh. Well this changes things, doesn’t it.
Dean looks around. Cas is literally in pajamas, and the sun has already set, but they’re here, on the beach, aren’t they? It’s night, they’re walking (kind of)...
Cas deserves to hear it. It’s never gonna get better than now.
Dean opens his mouth.
“I thought that since you were a full angel again you couldn’t feel love. I’ve been acting so weird because I was upset.”
“Why were you upset?” Cas asks.
“Because I….because I love you, too,” Dean says.
His heart feels lighter and his head feels warmer. A giddy rush wells up in him, and suddenly Dean can understand how just saying it made Cas the happiest he’s ever been. He grins, looks at Cas. He’s sure there are stars in his eyes.
“No you don’t,” Cas says, and Dean’s heart drops.
“What?”
“You don’t love me,” Cas says. “Not like that, anyway.”
“What, the gay way?” Dean asks. Cas nods. “Um, I definitely love you in the gay way.”
“No,” Cas says again. “No, I think if you did I would know.”
“Wouldn’t I know better than you?” Dean says. Cas shakes his head.
“Nope,” he says.
“But I do love you!” Dean says.
“Sure, like a brother,” Cas says, as if explaining to a small child. Dean frowns.
“No!” he says. “Here, I’ll prove it. Let me suck your dick.”
“No,” Cas says. “I don’t want that--you’re just offering ‘cause you think it’ll make me feel better.”
“Actually I think it’ll make me feel better,” Dean says.
“You’re just saying that,” Cas says.
“No, I’m not!” Dean says. He shoves him, and Cas takes a few stumbling steps into the water. Getting his socks wet, but the asshole deserves it. “I love you, you asshole!”
“No you don’t!” Cas says.
“Why not?”
“It’s impossible!” Cas says. “I love you, you don’t love me, that’s how it works!”
“Dude, I thought it was the other way around until you fucking died about it!” Dean yells. “I love you and I wanna kiss you and marry you and grow old with you and cook you dinner and hold your fucking hand, Castiel!”
“You’re lying,” Cas says, his eyes wide and so, so blue. “You must be--are you a shapeshifter? The real Dean wouldn’t say that.”
“I’m not a fucking shapeshifter!” Dean cries, and he shoves at Cas again. Cas shoves him back. “It’s me! It’s me and I love you and that’s the realest thing about me! I’ve loved you for years and years and years and you’re gonna doubt me? You fucker--you said I’m the most loving man in the world? Well all of that love-- all of it-- it’s for you! You can have it! You can have me. I love you, you dumbass. I’m in love with you.”
With horror, Dean realizes that he’s crying. Cas looks like he’s been hit over the head, mouth slightly open.
“I love you so bad, Cas,” Dean says, voice thick. “I wanna be with you all the time. I love you so, so much.”
“Dean,” Cas whispers. “Dean. Oh, my love.” Dean is sobbing into his hands, now, the way he hasn’t since Cas--well.
And Cas reaches for him, pulls him close, and Dean digs his fingers into his soft t-shirt, sobs against his shoulder, and Cas holds him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I love you too. I love you so much.”
“You’re the worst,” Dean cries.
“I know,” Cas says, running his hand up Dean’s back. “I know. Come here.”
Dean’s knees are weak but Cas falls with him, pulling him to the ground. They’re on the sand, in the water, but Dean couldn’t care less.
When he pulls away from Cas’ shoulder, it’s to lean in and kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him. Press him against the ground and kiss him some more, even when sand is clearly getting into Cas’ hair. Dean rolls them over, putting Cas on top, because Cas doesn’t like sand, right, and they kiss and kiss until a wave crashes over them, soaking them completely.
--
When Dean wakes up the next morning, all tangled with Cas, he hides his grin in Cas’ chest. Cas squeezes him and lets him up, and they change into their swimsuits together, Dean wrapping Cas’ Hawaiian shirt around him as Cas ties Dean’s swim trunks closed. They step apart reluctantly.
Sam and Eileen are cheerful and hold hands on the way to the beach. Once they’ve set up their towels and umbrella, Dean hands the sunscreen to Cas.
“Will you do my back?” he asks, peering at him through his eyelashes, and Cas takes the bottle and nods.
They sit down, and Dean has to bite back a moan when Cas puts his hands on him. When he’s done, Dean turns around and crawls on top of him, pushing him down against the towel.
“We’ll swim later,” he says.
“Of course,” Cas says, eyes sparkly, and Dean digs out the book, stays nestled against Cas as he finds his page.
A towel over, Sam finishes rubbing sunscreen on Eileen’s shoulders.
“What’s that all about?” Eileen asks, gesturing at Cas and Dean, curled up under the umbrella. They watch as Cas’ arm snakes across Dean’s middle and he hooks his face over Dean’s shoulder to read the book from behind him.
“You know what?” Sam says, capping the sunscreen and tossing it aside. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Race you to the water?”
“You’re on,” Eileen says. Sam may be taller, but she has more beach experience than him. They take off toward the water.
Dean turns the page in his book.
“I love you,” Cas murmurs.
“I love you, too,” Dean says. Cas squeezes him.
Dean wonders if it’s too early to start planning a proposal. After all, they still have three more days at the beach, and there are still sunsets every night over the water. In fact, with a little bit of adjusting, he could even recycle his old plan.
Cas tangles their feet together, and Dean decides plans are overrated, anyway.