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I.
At first, Dean is sure he's walked into the wrong kitchen.
There's no way his neat freak little brother would let the kitchen at Casa de Winchester get this bad. There's shit everywhere: flour on almost every counter, butter melting on the island, eggshells in and around the sink, an open jar of peanut butter rolling around on the floor by the fridge, chocolate chips peppering the tile, and what looks like every bowl, measuring cup, and stirring utensil in the house is out and dirty. The air does smell like cookies, though, so Dean's not too upset, but he's for sure not cleaning anything up.
"Sam!"
He hears two pairs of feet thunder down the stairs and is again certain he's in the wrong house. Three seconds later, his freakishly tall baby brother skids to a stop in just inside the kitchen, a sheepish smile on his face and a black-haired, blue-eyed kid about a year older than Sam slides up behind him.
"Dean!" Sam blurts out, then doesn't stop. "Hi! I thought—wasn't tonight your late night? I thought you—at least until eight, I mean, I'll clean it all up, I swear, but it's for home ec and Cas said—Hey! Dean, this is my friend Cas, from school. Cas, this is my brother, Dean."
Cas peers out from behind Sam's giant shoulder before apparently deciding Dean's not going to attack him and extending his hand.
"Castiel McAllister, sir."
"Whoa, slow down with the sir crap, I'm only four years older than Sasquatch over here," Dean shakes Cas' hand, barely aware of Sam's squawk of protest. "You in his home ec class?"
Cas nods and Dean's having a hard time focusing on anything but how soft Castiel's hair looks. Dean thinks he nods back and realizes he's been staring while Cas has been talking.
"—moved here and at my old school, my electives were complete, but the Kansas school system has different requirements for seniors than the California one and I found myself short an elective period. Your brother kindly consented to be my partner in home ec, though I suspect that was more self-preservation than kindness."
"I'm not that bad at home ec!" Dean had almost forgotten Sam was even there.
"You've set four aprons and three pot holders on fire this semester alone."
"Have not! That fourth apron was totally not my fault! Stupid Meg Masters distracted me!"
"Whatever, Sammy, just have the kitchen clean before six, okay? I wanna make chili. Cas, you stayin' for dinner?"
"Dean makes awesome chili, Cas. You should stick around."
"I suppose I can stay. This had better be excellent chili, Dean."
Dean wants to pretend that the lurch in his stomach is caused by another look at the kitchen, but he's pretty sure it's from the way Cas says his name.
"Five-time County Fair Chili Cook-off winner."
"Only four of those count, Dean. Last year, Jo helped."
Dean spies a plate of cookies on the table and snags a couple on this way to the stairs. He smacks Sam upside the head and says, "Whatever, Jolly Green. Clean the kitchen. Shower's calling me." As he heads up the stairs he hears Sam bitching about what a pain in the ass he is. The last thing he hears before closing his bedroom door is Cas asking if Dean's single. Dean has to stifle his laughter at Sam's sputtering but doesn't bother to contain the half-jumping, half-dancing move of pure excitement that wiggles out of him as he pulls off his shirt and heads to the bathroom.
II.
After that, Castiel becomes a constant fixture in the Winchester household. The few times John's truck driving brought him through town, the old man seemed to like Cas well enough and the kid was practically moved in before a month was up. Sam even cleared out a drawer for him, which Dean constantly makes fun of him for. All teasing aside, Dean really likes having Cas around, and not just because he's nice to look at. Cas is surprisingly funny, brutally honest in a naive sort of way, and not easily offended, practically making him marriage material in Dean's eyes. The icing on the giant cake that is Castiel's presence in Dean's life is that he's already eighteen, meaning Dean can lust after him and not worry about jail time. That and the fact that Castiel blushes every time Dean flirts with him. This is often if we’re being polite and all the damn time if we’re being realistic.
On one of his rare days off from the garage, about a month before Sam's birthday, Dean's in the kitchen, trying to figure out if the taste of fried rice is worth the hassle of making it when Sam storms in and glares at Dean accusingly.
"Whatever it is, it was Cas' idea."
Another definite plus. Cas took to the on-going Winchester Prank War like a duck to water. Cas is surprisingly sneaky and not afraid to fight dirty.
"This isn't about the itching powder in my boxers, asshole, though I know for a fact that was you and I'm definitely gonna get you back for it." Sam leans against the island. Dean shrugs and doesn't deny it. He pulls out some celery, a couple eggs, and some mixed veggies. He wants to make rice after all.
"This is about Cas, though."
Dean freezes halfway through grabbing the soy sauce out of the cupboard. He clears his throat before asking, as nonchalantly as possible, "What about him?"
"Dean," Sam huffs and Dean doesn't have to look at his brother to feel the bitch face being thrown his way. He puts everything on the counter and pulls out a frying pan. "Don't be a dick. You know Cas has like, the hugest crush on you."
He doesn't, actually. Cas never flirts back, never takes any of the bait Dean throws his way. Dean figured Cas had decided he just wanted to be friends or something; after all, it's been almost three months. He can't stop the stupid grin spreading across his face and is glad he's got a stove to look at.
"Is that right? Isn't Cas gonna be mad at you for spilling his slumber party secrets?"
"Didn't I just tell you not to be a dick? God, Dean, yeah. He likes you, for some reason I'll never understand and you're like, leading him on or something. I am so sick of his kicked-puppy look. Can you just like, ask him out or something, and put him out of his misery?"
Dean can't quite believe what he's hearing, so he needs to clarify. He turns to Sam and says, "You're okay with me dating your only—“ "Dean!" "—fine, best friend? Like, totally, one hundred percent sure you're not gonna wake up in a couple years and be all pissed off at me?"
Sam is quiet for a minute, searching Dean's face thoughtfully. Dean wants to turn away, but he holds his ground.
Finally Sam goes, "The fact that you're already talking about years down the line makes me okay with it." Dean's a little surprised; he hadn't even realized he'd said that. Sam continues softly, "I've seen the way you guys look at each other and while it kinda makes me sick, it also makes me weirdly happy. Just..."
"What?"
"Just don't hurt him, okay? He's... Cas kinda had it rough for a long time, Dean. Don't make it worse."
Dean looks at his brother for a long moment before indulging in a rare display of physical affection. He throws an arm around Sam's shoulder and squeezes. "You really think he'll go for it?"
"He'd be crazy not to."
Dean grins and places a smacking wet kiss to the side of Sam's face before shoving his brother out of the kitchen. He ignores Sam's grumbling about insensitive dickwad brothers and turns the stove on.
"Sammy?" he calls.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
III.
The thing is, Dean has no idea how to go about starting a successful relationship. Ask him to find a one night stand or a casual friends-with-benefits kind of deal and he’s golden. But he's completely lost when it comes to this because he's looking for a little more than sex (though, yes, he'd like to get laid again sometime before he turns thirty, thanks).
He refuses to ask Sam for help; the kid's already walking around with this superior kind of look and Dean's damned if he's gonna feed into it even more. He can't ask his dad or his Uncle Bobby because while they were both surprisingly accepting when he came out at seventeen, he knows that both of them kind of suck at relationships. He's saving Jo and Bela as last resorts; the two of them are already insufferable about the whole thing thanks to fucking Sam running his mouth at the Roadhouse, the bar Jo's mom left her that is currently run by the unlikely pair. Ash and Chuck are also no-goes due to a complete lack of anything close to experience with real, live people and Dean's this close to either just grabbing Cas and kissing him one night or doing something completely insane like consulting Cosmo.
It's been two weeks since his chat with Sam (two weeks and two retaliation pranks, which reminds him, he's gotta get Sam back for fucking with his car) and he's still not made anything close to resembling a move. He trudges up the stairs and across the porch, filthy and exhausted after a particularly relentlessly busy day at work and is assaulted with the smell of baking apples when he opens the door.
"Sam?"
"Guess again!" comes Cas' voice from the kitchen.
"Hey, Cas," Dean calls as he shuts the door and breathes in deep. "Where's Sam?"
"Studying for his AP English test, I think."
"Already?" Dean pulls off his jacket and hangs it up in the closet and moving into the kitchen. The sight that greets him drives all thoughts of Sam out of his head and he sort of hovers in the doorway.
Cas is baking. Cas is baking apple pie. And from the looks of it, Cas is baking a lot of apple pies. Dean counts at least four pies on the counter and Cas is bent over the oven. He’s wearing a black apron over a dark blue shirt and the softest-looking pair of jeans Dean has ever seen. Cas pulls the pie out and sets it on a cooling rack before turning around.
"Oh, I didn't know you were... Anyway, yeah, Sam's upstairs memorizing vocabulary words and I'm down here trying to salvage our home ec grade."
"With five different kinds of pie?"
"With five different kinds of apple pie. I had to ask Mr. Adler for extra credit and he told me..."
Dean knows Cas is still talking and he knows it's rude to ignore the words in favor of watching the way Cas' mouth moves but he can't help it. Everything about Cas is fucking mesmerizing and the words, "Do you wanna go out sometime?" explode out of him before he can think better of it.
Castiel sputters to a stop and Dean feels a little bad for interrupting him.
"What?"
"Do you maybe... wanna go out sometime? With me?"
"Like a date?"
"Yeah, like to a movie or something."
"With you?"
"Yeah."
"Me and you?"
"Jesus, Cas, yeah, me and you. And no, no one else is invited, not my brother or yours or my dad or Jo or Bela or Anna or anyone. Just you and me."
"You want to... with me?" Cas' voice is a strange combination of awed and disbelieving.
At that Dean pushes away from the wall and moves into Cas' personal space. He puts his hands on Cas' shoulders, lets his thumbs slide under the slightly-loose collar of Cas' shirt before saying, "Yes, I want to. With you. Okay?"
Cas nods and Dean's body moves on autopilot. He's leaning down and in to press his mouth to Cas' before he realizes what he's doing. As far as first kisses go, it's kind of unremarkable. No fireworks, the earth doesn't stop, but Dean doesn't stop at one kiss. He keeps going, pushing Cas up against the counter, pulling soft sighs out of him. Dean lets his hands drift down to pull Cas closer by the hips and is thoroughly delighted when Cas' hands come up to twist in his hair. He's not sure how much time passes while he's pressed up against Cas but, God, he never wants to stop.
"Finally!" Sam's voice echoes through the kitchen and Dean considers pulling away. Cas makes the decision for him and Dean really isn't all too pleased that they stopped kissing. He doesn't turn around and Cas doesn't look away.
"Fuck off, Samantha. I'm busy here," Dean practically growls.
"I'm goin', I'm goin'," Sam pulls a soda out of the fridge and shoves the door closed with his hip. "You couldn't have waited two weeks, though?" Now Dean has to look at his brother; he raises an eyebrow in Sam's direction. "My money was on you two hooking up at my birthday party. Now I owe Anna like thirty bucks."
Dean wants to be irritated but Cas is rubbing slow circles into the sides of his neck and all he can muster is faint curiosity. "What was Anna's window?"
"Spring break. Which officially started today."
"Well, Sam, I'd love to stand around and chat but your brother and I were having a very important discussion before you came in," Cas almost purrs, turning Dean's attention back to him. "I would like to continue that discussion now."
"I think that sounds like an excellent idea, Cas," Dean quips and allows himself to be pulled down into another kiss. "See ya round, Moose."
If Sam says anything in retaliation, Dean doesn't hear him.
IV.
It took Dean six weeks of 'dating' to realize that Cas had a couple of subjects he wasn't fond of talking about. Just one subject, really. As open as the guy is with almost every aspect of his life, Cas is suspiciously quiet about his family, most specifically his parents. Dean flashes back to the conversation he had with Sam. Cas kinda had it rough for a long time, Dean. Don't make it worse. Dean has a couple ideas about why Cas lives with his brother, Gabriel, and his sister, Anna, instead of his parents, but Dean kind of hopes he's wrong about all of it.
Dean doesn't ask about Cas' family too much, not Cas anyway. He's asked Anna and she told him that her parents were very religious people who never really accepted Castiel's sexuality. She told Dean it wasn't her story to tell, then promptly told the whole tale. Cas came out when he was twelve, completely by accident: he simply mentioned to his mother one day that he didn't think he'd marry a girl, like his brother Michael had, but that he'd rather marry a boy, because boys were nicer to him than girls were. Of course, their mother flipped out and told Castiel that it was shameful to feel that way and that he must never speak like that again.
"He spent his formative years thinking something was wrong with him, Dean," Anna had told him. "And it didn't help that the only alternative he saw was our parent's marriage, which was dysfunctional at best."
That was all Anna would say on the matter and by the time school let out, Dean had learned the hard way that talking to Cas about his parents was a surefire way to piss his boyfriend off. He's not proud of himself, but he wanted to know, so he resorted to less... savory methods: Gabriel and alcohol.
Dean got Gabriel good and drunk one night and asked him about his parents.
"Dead!" Gabriel bellowed at the sky from where he was lying on the hood of Dean's car. "Dead and gone! Died years ago." Gabriel hiccupped and went on. "Well, 'most a year ago. Car acc'dent. Cassie took it pretty hard, man, even though my pops hadn't speaked to the kid in two years."
"Two years?" Dean's pretty sure he can feel his heart breaking.
"Yep! Just 'nored Cas like he waddn't even there. Said he waddn't gon have no faggot kid an' when Cassie tol' him he weren't a faggot, that there waddn't nothin' wrong, my pops hit him right in the face! On'y time I ever seen my dad hit anyone. I moved out rull quick af'er that. I ain't gay, but I like ta dabble now and 'gain, but anyway, anyway. Last Thanssgivin', my momma was drivin' an' hit some ice and spun out." Gabriel's voice is quiet now, sad and Dean's heart breaks a little more. It's warm, it's June but he feels so cold inside. Gabriel's not quite done yet, though. "My big brother, Michael, came out for the funeral, came to c'llect Anna but tol' Cas that he couldn't come with on accounta he was gay. Think that's what hurt the most, was Michael. Guy's a right bas...bas...bad guy but Cas, he loved him. Good think Anna told Michael to fuck right off and they moved out here with me. Cas was... sad for so long, Dean, but you make him happier'n I ever seen him." Gabriel's eyes are closed and his head is pillowed on Dean's thigh. "Be good to him, 'kay?"
Dean stares at the sky as Gabriel drifts to sleep.
V.
It doesn't take Dean very long to fall in love.
He's always been half in love with Cas, probably from the first time he ever saw the kid and spending so much time together really only made it worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it.
It just takes him a long time to admit it.
At first, it felt like it was too soon. The last person Dean dated was Cassie Robinson, junior year (yeah, Cassie, Cas, haha, funny, he gets it) and she was amazing, but ultimately she wasn't what he wanted. (Turns out he wasn't quite what she wanted either, since she's dating Lisa Braden, Dean's first girlfriend. They laugh about it now.) He was never in love with Cassie or Lisa, so he doesn't quite understand it when he falls in love with Cas, especially because there wasn't a big oh, there you are moment. It was a thousand little things: the way Cas would bring him lunch, the silly picture messages he'd send throughout the day, the way Cas always paid explicit attention to everything Dean said, the way Cas didn't let his relationship with Dean eclipse his friendship with Sam. These were the things that made Dean fall in love, that made every single second he spent with Cas more electric and alive than all the moments they were apart.
He understands now that the swooping sensation he gets when Cas talks in his sleep is love. He now gets why sex with Cas is better than it ever was with anyone else. He understands that the fierce desire to protect Cas, that the warmth he feels when he gets to introduce Cas as his boyfriend, that the way he wants to be a better person is love.
Now he just has to tell the guy.
He and Cas are sprawled out across Dean's bed, text books, papers and car manuals covering every bit of available space. Cas is almost finished with the summer courses he's taking at the community college and Dean is attempting to get certified with Honda so he can bother Bobby about giving him a raise. There's music on in the background, an eclectic mix of what Sam likes to call 'Dean&Cas Dysfunctional Favorites:' Led Zeppelin, Mumford & Sons, Boston, Florence + the Machine. Dean's happy, he realizes, as he watches Cas flip to the glossary in his physics textbook. He's happy with Cas. It took him a while to get here, but he's happier than he's ever been.
"Hey, Cas?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
"Mmm," Cas murmurs absentmindedly. He looks up swiftly a moment later, an almost angry glint in his eye. "Wait. What?"
Dean is so surprised by Cas' reaction that the words fall out like a question the second time. "I love you?"
Abruptly, all the warmth along the side of Dean's body is gone. Cas is on his feet, grabbing his books and shoving them haphazardly into his bag. "Hey, what—“
"I... I have to—I just, I have to go."
"What? Why?" Dean's very close to panicking now.
"I just—I can't—“
"What? Can't what?"
"This. I can't do this..."
"Do what? Love me?" Skip panicking, Dean's angry now. So what, three months of friendship and four months of dating and Cas can't love him? When Cas knows how hard it is for Dean to let people in, how close he keeps everything?
"No, I—that's not what I—I-I have to go. I'll... later..." and he's gone in a flurry of black hair and paper, leaving Dean to sit and wonder why people ever bother with love.
VI.
Dean doesn't talk to Cas for nine days, which is probably the longest he's ever gone without talking to him, even before they started dating. He has no idea what to say because he legitimately has no idea what went wrong. How is it possible that ten days ago he was on top of the world and now he feels like a melodramatic teenage girl? He barely leaves the couch because his room still smells like Cas.
"Alright. That's it." Sam is so loud. Dean burrows further into the couch pillows.
"Why are you yelling?"
"He wasn't. You're hung over, asshole." That's definitely not Sam.
"Shhh, 'M sleeping."
"No, you're sulking," another new voice, female this time, practically bellows into his ear.
"Yeah, well you tell a guy you love them and see how sulky you feel after they run away, talking about how they can't."
"Quit being a baby." And okay, how many fucking people are here?
"Everyone," Sam says. "Me, Gabriel, Anna, Jo, Bela, Chuck, and Ash."
"Why?" Dean's confused, hungry, and not nearly drunk enough for this.
"Cos we're sicka you mopin', Winchester! Go get your man!"
"Hi, Chuck, did you miss the part where he doesn't want me?"
"Then why's he moping too?" Anna asks.
"Cos I have a bunch of his stuff?"
"Or because he's in love with you too and scared?"
"Bela. Please don't pretend like you know how love works. All you love is money."
"I'm insulted. I also love irritating you. Which is why," he feel several pairs of hands force him into a sitting position. "You are going to get in the shower," Sam continues and Gabriel finishes with "and go talk to my stupid brother."
Dean glares blearily up at his friends. He can tell he’s not gonna win this one.
"Fine. I hate you all."
"We know," Jo replies. "Now go."
Dean goes. He showers and shaves for the first time in days. He pulls on a t-shirt and jeans pretending that he doesn’t specifically pick the sage green shirt that brings out his eyes or the pair of jeans Cas used to steal and wear around the house.
He goes downstairs and is pleased to see that the sun has set but is less pleased to see all of his friends whispering in the dining room.
"Alright, assholes. Where's Cas?"
"At my house," Anna and Gabriel say together.
"He should be up and dressed at least," Sam says. Dean shrugs and grabs a soda and his car keys.
He pretends not to notice the pitying looks everyone's sending his way.
VII.
The drive to Cas' house has never taken so long.
He has no idea what to say.
He pulls up to the curb outside the McAllister residence and his heart flips in his chest. Cas is sitting on the porch, holding a can of beer in one hand. Dean takes a deep breath and gets out. Cas doesn't look up as he crosses the old wooden slats and plops down next to him.
"Didn't think you liked beer," is the first thing that comes to mind.
"I don't, but you do."
Cas sounds so wrecked, so heartbroken, Dean just wants to hold him, but how can he, when he's apparently the cause?
"I do," he says instead, reaching out and turning the can so he can read the label. "But no one likes Natty Ice, kid. No one."
"That would explain why Gabriel bought it for me."
Dean chuckles and forgets for a moment that he feels like crying.
"Dean... I'm sorry."
"I... Look, Cas, I don't want to sound like a dick, but you should be."
"I know, and I am. I just wish... I wish I had anything close to an explanation. I just..."
"Decided to be a pussy?"
"I—what?"
"This whole love thing? It's hard, man. It's hard and it's fuckin' scary. I get it. It's easier to try and pretend you don't feel it. But pretending's like lying and lying is something cowards do."
"I... Dean..."
"Cas, since I love you, I'm gonna make this easy for you--"
"See, there you go again! How can you say that when there's so much you don't know!?"
"Because I do know! I know about your parents, Cas, and your douchebag brother, okay? I ain't proud, but you weren't talking and your siblings got big mouths. Look at me, Cas. You know me. When have you ever known me to go into something serious unprepared? I do my fucking research, man. So like I said. I'm gonna make this real easy for you. Do you love me?"
Cas blinks at him, eyes over bright.
"I... yes."
"Then okay."
"That's it? Okay?"
"Sorry, I should have been more specific. Okay, do that again and I'll kick your ass. Got it?" Dean pulls Cas against his side, wrapping an arm around him. Cas melts into him, a muffled sob released into Dean's side. "I love you, you idiot." Cas' arms wind around Dean's waist, pulling them closer.
"I...I love you, too."
Dean will deny it until his dying day, but he might have teared up a little. Eventually he and Cas make it into the house and into a bed. As he slides in next to Cas, he feels his chest loosen up. Cas instantly curls around him, the world's prettiest octopus, and Dean knows that he's exactly where he needs to be.
"I love you, Dean," Cas whispers into the soft spaces between his ribs and Dean feels it all over.