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2014 Dean Winchester has had a very eventful day. Between meeting a past version of himself, finding the colt, and planning a suicide mission for all his closest friends, he hadn't had much time to truly take it in. This was probably why he decided to pour himself a few fingers of whiskey and go stargazing outside his cabin. It was warm enough where a fire wasn’t necessary, so he was plunged into complete darkness, due to the camp taking an early night to prepare for tomorrow. Dean knew he should feel guilty, or at least nervous, leading his friends to what would most likely be their deaths, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he could focus on was that it would finally be over. Either he would kill Lucifer and set the world back on the right path or he would die. At this point, he would welcome both with open arms.
A rustling comes from behind Dean, snapping him to attention. A hand flits for his gun before seeing the familiar, if glossy, eyes of Castiel.
“Jesus, Cas! A warning, just once, would be nice,” Dean barks out. Cas just smiles, eyes crinkling, before pulling up a chair and sitting, as always, way too close to Dean.
“My apologies, old habits die hard.” Cas’s speech is surprisingly clear. He doesn’t seem drunk, just slightly out of it.
“Why are you out here, anyway? I thought that on a night like this, you would be plowing your way through every drug and chick on this camp.” Dean can’t keep the bitterness out of the last two lines. He and Cas have had countless fights over his choices.
Cas just sighs sadly. “I don’t know... I want to be able to see the stars before I die.” Dean jolts in surprise “That is what’s going to happen tomorrow, right? Suicide missions aren’t something I ever expected from you, but I can’t help thinking we aren’t going to make it out of this alive.” He doesn’t sound sad or even disappointed, just resigned.
“Hey! I would never–”
“Dean, it’s okay. I was a strategist once, too. I don't hold it against you. I understand.” With those last two words, the fight leaves Dean’s body, replaced with a wave of grief. His shoulders crumble and his face screws up, fighting off tears.
“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m so sorry,” Dean mutters. He brings his glass up to his lips and takes a large swig, savoring the way it burns down his throat. The motion gives him time to fight off the tears and get himself under control. His voice only sounds a little rough as he says, “You know, if there was any other way, I would never have chosen this.”
“Yes, Dean,” Cas sighs once again, “I know.” Dean drags his eyes up to meet his friend’s. He is taken aback by the expression on Cas’s face. In the six years of knowing him, Dean has never seen the ex-angel look like this. Their eyes stay locked on each other for a second more before Cas tilts his head up to gaze at the sky. “If this is my last chance, there is something I would like to do.” He sounds like he could be commenting on the weather rather than his last request. Something twists in Dean’s gut at his words. He sounds more than a little bitter when he spits out,
“Sure, dude, go smoke or fuck, I really don’t care–” Dean cuts off his sentence as strong hands shoot out to grip the lapels of his jacket. Cas’s eyes meet his, searching for something. Dean swallows thickly, because his mouth just got stupidly dry. Seemingly, Cas found what he was looking for, because he tips his head forward, catching Dean’s lips with his own.
It’s short, close-lipped. Cas starts to pull away after only a few seconds. Dean’s mind desperately tries to catch up with his body, but he doesn’t get much farther than Cas, kissing, and more. He surges forward, deepening the kiss and preventing Cas from leaving. Cas responds instantly, opening his mouth and proceeding to do downright sinful things with his tongue. Dean’s mind has short-circuited and he can’t think anything but, why in the fuck have we not been doing this the whole time? and he stops thinking altogether when Cas bites his lip. He thinks he probably made some sort of pathetic sound, but he really can’t find it in him to care. Cas’s stubble scratches his face, and their noses bump together. They’re both still sitting, so it's a weird angle, but it’s perfect. It’s Cas.
At some point, the kiss turns sweet, rather than desperate. Dean is 30 again, trying to get the angel to fight for humanity, fight for the world, fight for him. Trading smiles like secrets and ruining all of heaven’s stupid plans, because they both fell for the last person they were supposed to. Dean thinks one of them might be crying, and he genuinely cannot tell who. Cas eventually pulls back, resting his forehead against Dean’s.
“I need you to know something before tomorrow.”
Dean opens his eyes and pulls back slightly to look at him. He feels the floor drop from under him and he knows what is about to come next. “I love you. I wish I could hate you, wish I could walk away, but I can’t. I hate that I will follow you to my death and will do it all again in a heartbeat. I love you, Dean.”
Cas’s eyes are watery, but brilliantly clear and blue. Dean can finally pin the expression on Cas’s face. He looks like he is in love. Dean tries to speak, but the words curl up in his throat and die there. He’s never had a way with words like Cas has. He swears, Cas could make a pile of dirt sound poetic. So, instead of speaking the words far too big for someone like him to speak, he kisses the angel that brought him back from hell. He kisses the man that has saved him more times than he can count, the man that followed him to the end of the world. Dean kisses the man he fell in love with.
They crash together like they always have, drawn to each other's orbit. Somehow, they end up on the ground. Eventually, they make it inside, and get lost in skin and tongues and teeth. For a moment, they aren’t two men about to lose one another once again, but instead are just two men who fell in love. The world crumbled because of it, but they are bathing in the embers. Just for a moment.
After, they stay tangled together, and sweat cools on their skin. Dean feels Cas’s breath even out and whispers to the quiet room that can’t hear him.
“I love you too, Cas.” He smiles, small, but there, as he falls asleep.
The Plan fails, and Dean and Cas are burned on the same pyre. The world that never got to be burned with them.