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“What are you reading?”
Castiel jumped, almost falling out of his tree. He grabbed the branch he was sitting on with one hand to regain his balance, almost dropping his book in the process.
He sighed. “Stop sneaking up on me like that, Dean. One of these days I’m actually going to fall.”
“Sorry,” Dean replied. Castiel could hear Dean’s panting and the crunch of boots against tree bark as the other boy climbed the tree.
“Be careful,” Castiel called. “There’s a honeybee hive in the upper branches on that side, try not to shake them much.”
“I’m climbing a fucking tree to talk to you and you’re worried about some damn bees?”
“Bees are amazing, Dean. They pollinate almost everything, even apple trees. Your precious apple pie wouldn’t be as easy to get if it weren’t for bees.” Castiel leaned around the trunk to peer at Dean from behind his thick glasses. “You should appreciate them more.”
Dean paused in his climb to stare back. “We’ll see.” He hoisted himself up on last time, jumping from one branch to the next until he was perched precariously next to where Castiel held tightly to the trunk. “You never answered my question. What are you reading?”
Castiel blushed. “Oh, nothing much.” He shoved the book into a hole in the trunk with several other books and covered them with a piece of tarp.
Dean reached around him to uncover them. Castiel batted his hand away, his face bright red.
“Aw, c’mon, Cas! Show me!”
Castiel crossed his arms and looked away.
Dean leaned closer. “Please? I thought I was your boyfrie—best friend!”
“Fine,” he mumbled. “It’s a comic book I had Sam steal from your room. I wanted to read something you like.”
“Really?” Dean crowed. “What are you, a teenage girl?”
Castiel covered his face with his hands. “Please stop,” he whispered.
Instantly, Dean fell silent and leaned away. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Too much?”
“You are too much, Dean Winchester,” Castiel replied.
Dean scooted a little farther away. “Is this better?”
Castiel nodded, still hiding his face. He heard Dean’s breathing rate increase and peeked between his fingers at the boy. A bee was perched on Dean’s shoulder. Castiel immediately snapped to attention, laying one hand on Dean’s knee to steady himself and slowly reaching towards the bee, careful not to startle it.
“Shhh,” he whispered, mostly to Dean. “We have to be careful not to scare it.”
“Why?” Dean whispered back.
“If he stings one of us he’ll die,” Castiel replied.
Dean rolled his eyes but held still until Castiel had removed the bee and blown it gently off his finger into the breeze. Castiel turned and found Dean staring at him.
“What?” he asked, looking away shyly.
Dean took a deep breath and smiled. “You are the weirdest, Cas.”
Castiel smiled. “I know.”
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Care so much. How do you do it?”
Castiel looked up through the branches, sunlight dappled across his face. It glinted on his glasses and Dean blinked at the glare. “It’s all the little lights, Dean. Can’t you see them?”
“What little lights?”
Castiel ignored him, standing up on the branch and climbing higher into the tree.
“Um, Cas, the bee hive is right there. Be careful, please.”
“Dean, look at them. The bees, they each have a little light, isn’t it pretty?”
“Cas, what the hell are you talking about?”
Castiel turned and looked down at Dean, his eyes sparkling. “You have one too, you know.”
“What? What do I have?”
“A light, Dean! A light! You may never believe me on this, but your light is so bright. Sometimes I can hardly bear to look at you,” Castiel mumbled.
Dean was speechless. “A…a light?”
“Yes, a light. Everything has one, different colors, different shapes, different brightnesses…”
“Huh?”
Castiel looked back at the bees. “The light, yes. Very important to have a bright light. They look like stars, Dean. I love stars.”
“Cas, get down here.”
“Dean, you’re shining. Why are you shining?” Castiel looked at him curiously.
“I don’t know!”
Castiel was silent. Dean held his breath.
“The lights are important, Dean. The lights are the answer.”
Dean stood up and grabbed Castiel’s arm. “The answer to what?!”
“You asked how I care so much. The lights are the answer.”
Dean huffed. “What lights?”
Castiel jerked his arm out of Dean’s grip and slid down the tree with practiced ease. He waited at the base for Dean to scramble down. When Dean was standing next to him, he took his hand and pulled him towards his house.
“Cas—what are you doing? You said you weren’t ready for me to go to your room yet—”
“Oh, shut up. I’m trying to tell you. Why won’t you let me?”
Dean stumbled up the back porch steps and Castiel let go of his hand, crouching down next to a flowerpot.
“Dean, look. This one,” he pointed to a wilted pansy, “has a very faint light. It’s going to go out soon. But this one,” he pointed to a healthy pansy, “has a bright light. A lovely purple colored one. Very pretty. But you see, Dean, when the lights go out, you can’t bring them back. They’re gone. Out. Forever.”
“So?”
“Dean, the lights are precious. They’re fragile and strong and irreplaceable.”
“The lights. How do you see them?”
“I don’t know, but there they are. Green and blue and pink and all the other colors too—”
“Wait, earlier. You said my light was bright. What does that mean?”
Castiel rolled his eyes. “Dean, don’t ask me silly questions.”
“Stop looking at me like that! I’m not a genius like you!”
Castiel turned away. “Stop yelling. Your light dims when you’re angry.”
Dean paused. “It does?”
“Yes. Stop it right now.”
They were silent. Dean reached out hesitantly and touched Castiel’s back. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I can’t see the lights, Cas.”
“It’s okay, Dean. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does, because you matter and you can see them and I just—” Castiel cut him off with a kiss on the cheek. He blushed brightly.
“Stop shining like that, I can barely see you.”
Dean beamed. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
Castiel turned away.
“No, Cas, please don’t. I liked it a lot. Please don’t run away again.”
“Don’t worry, Dean. I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”
“Good.”