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Bobby sighs, “Ya know… that boy who keeps coming around to see Sam?”
Dean nods nonchalantly but the name Cas rattles through his brain like a haywire pinball machine. He thought he’d be used to this by now, but he still finds himself shutting down at even the mention of Sam’s best friend. Bobby doesn’t continue so Dean looks up from where he was picking a hangnail. He looks annoyed— to be fair, Bobby always looks annoyed— but this time it’s laced with something else. It’s getting too close to a chick flick moment for Dean so he schools his face into a bratty expression that screams “and?”
His adoptive father sighs again and Dean rolls his eyes— they aren’t good at moments like this and Dean can feel his collar getting hot because despite feigning confusion, he knows exactly where this conversation is going.
“Son, I don’t think he’s comin’ around here all these times for Sam…” Bobby’s voice trails off and Dean’s throat turns dry.
He thought they were being careful. Cas promised not to tell anyone and Dean couldn’t even if he wanted to— his brain powers down at the mere thought of speaking the word aloud.
Gay .
But then there was Cas and how could Dean let him go— repressed, trauma induced hypothetical closet dwelling aside. The man flipped Dean’s world on its head and Dean hasn’t been this happy in his entire life.
But no one was supposed to know.
Not yet.
Bobby must take Dean’s internal turmoil as a refusal to talk— which it basically is— so he stands to leave the bedroom. He pauses in the door frame, turning slightly but not facing Dean directly, “Just don’t be an idjit. They don’t wait around forever.”
He nods in response despite Bobby shutting the door behind him. Once he hears the creak of the old steps from down the hall, Dean stands up and walks to his closet. Opening the door, he braces for what’s to come.
“Ya know, boy, I think that kid is gay for you.” Cas does his best Bobby imitation before he busts out in a whispered laugh. Using Dean’s hands, he hoists himself out of the pile of blankets Cas must’ve accrued from all the times he’s had to hide in there.
The irony is not lost on Dean.
“Ah, shuddup, Cas.” Dean can’t help the smile that forms across his lips before pulling his boyfriend in for a chaste kiss. Cas tastes like the pancakes Dean made for them early this morning— breakfast in bed dates happen much earlier when you’re doing them in secret.
Something about that realization shoots a ping of regret through Dean’s heart.
He grabs either side of Cas’s face and just looks . Looks at his handsome, funny, pragmatic, nerdy, perfect best friend and, not for the first time, he wants.
Images of dates in the park or at the movies or even just on the living room couch flood his mind and he can’t help but want to show off his best friend. The ever present fear that what they’re doing is wrong seems to be finally overpowered by want.
Maybe it’s because Bobby practically told him to go for it. Because Bobby isn’t John and John isn’t here anymore and he wants his boyfriend to meet his dad.
He wants the world to know that he’s not scared to be Cas’s and he’s lucky as hell that Cas wants to be his.
A different kind of fear fills him at the idea of telling Sam.
But none of that is enough to stop him anymore. Removing his hands from Cas’s face he intertwines their fingers and pulls gently towards the door, “Follow me.”
Cas smiles and nods. Instantly, a weight lifts that Dean had been carrying for so long that, without it, he feels like he’s flying.