Work Text:
~SFO~
Cas looks over the top of the central seat partitions for what might be the millionth time. He can’t help it, it’s just a reflex at this point. Any time he catches sight of movement by the door, or he hears one of the crew greet a new passenger, his eyes flick up hopefully, but so far he’s been disappointed. He’s got no reason to think Dean will be on this flight – it’s not like he knows the man’s schedule – but the journeys always pass quicker when he’s there, too. So Castiel can’t help hoping.
Cas shakes his head at himself. He reaches for his phone to turn it off before takeoff, but before he can shut it down, it pings with a notification that makes him smile despite himself. If there’s anyone who can cheer him up when he’s in a grump, it’s his unlikely Instagram friend.
@thatbiflyguy: hey dude is it today yr off to cali?
There are still passengers boarding and messing with their cabin luggage, so Cas figures he still has time to shoot off a quick message.
@holytaxaccountant: It is. I just got on my flight, we should be departing soon.
@thatbiflyguy: naughty naughty. dont think yr meant to be on insta for takeoff
@holytaxaccountant: I was just about to switch my phone off when I saw your message. I’m not that irresponsible.
@thatbiflyguy: chill buddy, im not telling you off, just teasing ya a bit
@thatbiflyguy: you ok?
Cas sighs. He hadn’t meant to be short with Flyguy; it isn’t his fault Cas apparently needs an Emotional Support Dean on all flights these days.
@holytaxaccountant: Sorry. I’m okay, I just thought I’d be travelling with a friend today and it hasn’t worked out.
@thatbiflyguy: sucks man, good company can make all the difference
@thatbiflyguy: safe flight n chat later
Cas finally kills his phone, catching a glimpse of the stink eye a crew member is giving him for still messing with his tech. He pockets the phone and looks out the window as the plane starts reversing over the tarmac.
Part of him has considered mentioning to Flyguy that Dean is more than just ‘good company,’ but it doesn’t feel right. They tell each other a lot, but somehow “I have a pathetic crush on someone who sometimes gets the same flights as me” feels like one reveal too far.
He’s pretty sure Flyguy wouldn’t judge him, but on the other hand, Cas doesn’t want to risk it; doesn’t want to risk damaging their connection. Maybe it’s sad that one of his closest friends is some social media influencer whose name he doesn’t even know, but it is what it is.
Cas will take what he can get.
~ZRH~
“Did you see loverboy on the plane?”
Cas scowls at Gabriel and regrets having ever mentioned Dean. He didn’t even say much in the first place, but he hadn’t needed to. However many months back, he’d finally slipped up and mentioned the name one too many times.
Gabriel’s like a bloodhound, and he hasn’t given Cas a moment of peace since he admitted there was a person whose company he more than tolerated, sharing some of his journeys.
“I don’t know anyone who fits that description.”
Gabriel snorts, which Cas ignores with dignity. Cas fishes for his phone as it buzzes in his pocket, signalling another message from Flyguy. He makes sure to keep his face neutral, not needing Gabriel on his case about another thing, but with about as much success as he feared.
“Cassie, you really need to get some actual friends. You can’t just socialise with some online weirdo all the time. I bet he’s actually some old gross dude who’s never left his mom’s basement.”
Cas’s scowl deepens. “He’s not a weirdo, and he travels a lot – we have that in common. Besides, I have real life friends, too. I socialise with Hannah. And Balthazar.”
“Ok, one, rude, I should have been on that list; and two, people who work for you don’t count.”
“You’re not my friend, Gabriel, you’re my cousin. I wasn’t given a choice about having you around.”
Gabriel launches into a familiar rant about Cas’s apparent lack of a social life and his wild disrespect for the unbreakable bond of family or something, but Cas tunes him out and opens up his DM with Flyguy.
@thatbiflyguy: guess you shoulda landed by now? hope yr ok
@thatbiflyguy: btw you gotta check out these sleep masks my friend makes
@thatbiflyguy: i posted about them yday
@thatbiflyguy: they would have been great on your flight back from singapore a couple weeks back
Curious, Cas navigates to Flyguy’s profile and scrolls back through the last few posts until he sees what his friend was referring to.
@thatbiflyguy Get a load of these incredible embroidered eye masks from @queenbradbury! Smooth 100% mulberry silk lining is kind to your skin, the velvet outer gives a touch of luxury, and the blackout insert makes these babies perfect for catching some zs on the go. Grab one with Charlie’s weird sense of humor on it or get your own message embroidered for just $5. Link in bio #traveltips #travelhacks #wanderlust #supportsmallbusiness
Pictured is a gorgeous emerald velvet eye mask, lying artfully on top of a travel pillow, with the words ‘Great in Bed’ picked out in gold cursive lettering.
Cas huffs a laugh. Flyguy is right, though – flying back from Singapore in interminable daylight with a broken window shade had been an exercise in increasingly tired frustration, and unpleasant to say the least.
He feels a flutter of something that his friend remembered details of a work trip he took nearly a month ago, but he squashes it quickly. Flyguy is considerate, it’s one of the reasons Cas likes him as a friend. He is a good friend. It’s ridiculous to try to read any more into the comment than normal friendly interaction.
Cas takes a breath and types back.
@holytaxaccountant: Thank you, those do look excellent. I’ll look into purchasing one for my next trip.
@thatbiflyguy: goin anywhere nice?
@holytaxaccountant: It depends where I’m called for work, but no doubt I’ll be travelling again soon.
@thatbiflyguy: no shit man, its like you fly even more than me and its literally my job
Cas can’t imagine what that’s like. Sure, he travels a lot, but at least he can generally zone out or get on with other things in the process. Flyguy seems to document every part of every trip that he takes, and posts to Instagram multiple times a day. It must be how he maintains such a large following, and why he sometimes has sponsorship deals that Cas has seen come up on his feed from time to time.
Flyguy’s been a source of invaluable advice in DMs – Cas never meant to get any kind of significant following, so he’d been rather taken aback when a post about a central London hotel’s extensive laundry facilities had unexpectedly boomed overnight and added thousands to his follower count. The ensuing waves of bizarre messages and comments were overwhelming, to say the least, and the simple reassurance from Flyguy that it would pass had helped talk him down from deleting his account entirely.
Later on, when one of Cas’s followers decided to take their role a little too literally and began showing up at his work lodgings, it was Flyguy who shared some trade secrets, such as sharing pictures and details of locations a few weeks after the actual trip. Cas shudders to think how Flyguy learned to avoid stalkers in the first place.
But more than social media support, Flyguy has been a constant in Cas’s life for months by now. Hardly a day goes by when they don’t chat.
Casknows Gabriel kind of has a point about finding friendship outside of his phone, but why would he want anything else when he has this?
~HND~
Cas feels his spirits lift as he catches sight of the familiar tousled hair over the partition as he makes his way to his seat. He’s exhausted from the last few days of non-stop meetings, but the presence of his friend makes up for all of it. He steers his cabin bag past the galley and towards row 8 almost on autopilot. Dean has consistently been in 8G every time he’s seen him, so Cas now makes a point to book 8L directly opposite. He did once offer Dean the window seat for a change of scenery, and the man turned green so fast that Cas was shocked.
“And see just how far there is to fall to our inevitable deaths? Yeah, no thanks.”
There is, apparently, method to his madness. The part about only having to remember one emergency exit route makes sense, but Cas took other parts of the rationale with a pinch of salt.
“My brother knows I always sit here, so when he needs to identify my body, it’ll be easy for him to remember where I shoulda been.”
“Dean, we’re not going to crash.”
“Maybe not, but maybe we will, and then who’ll be laughing, huh?”
Cas is greeted by a bright smile as Dean notices him approaching. It doesn’t matter how many times Cas sees him, that smile dazzles him every time, making him forget his own name. He dithers dumbly in the aisle, distracted by Dean’s shining eyes and infectious delight.
The other man is out of his seat in an instant, grabbing Cas’s bag and stowing it in the overhead lockers for him, already talking a mile a minute. “Dude, you would not believe this hotel I was in last night! It had friggin robot dinosaurs at the front desk, I swear–”
Cas grins and lets Dean’s enthusiasm wash over him. They haven’t seen each other in over a month, but it’s always so easy to pick up where they left off, as if no time has passed. He misses this so much when he has to travel alone.
“...and they even have the little uniform hats on and shit, and I’m telling you, I nearly screamed when I went to check in – but don’t tell anyone, I’ve got a rep to maintain you know –”
“I promise not to destroy your very manly rep, Dean.”
“I knew you’d have my back, man. Damn, it’s so good to see you. Where have you been?”
“Tokyo, obviously.”
Dean rolls his eyes and shoves at him before scooting back to his own seat. “Other than here, doofus. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Well, I–” Cas is interrupted by the chime of the overhead, and by mutual agreement they fall silent while the safety announcement is recited. No point getting on the crew’s bad side before you’ve even taken off.
They catch up as the plane treks along the runway, Cas almost managing to distract Dean at the point of takeoff with some finely-timed Star Wars bait. He still looked a little pale as they launched into the air, but Cas likes to think his knuckles looked a little less white than usual on the arm of his seat.
“Listen, I know we’re barely off the ground, and it’s great to shoot the shit with you, but I’m gonna lay this out flat and grab a nap.”
Cas nods; it makes sense given the long journey west. “I’ve got a meeting first thing, just after we land. I think I’ll do the same.” He struggles with the lever on the seat, wishing it was one of Singapore Airlines’s electronic setups.
“D’you want a hand?”
“Oh, thank you, I’m not sure why it’s not working…”
“Don’t worry, I have magic fingers.”
In contrast to his words, Dean gives the side of the seat a sharp kick. He looks around to make sure there isn’t a member of staff on their way to chew him out, then bends to push the lever to recline the chair.
“Mechanism could do with some WD-40, but I think I can get her to– ha! There ya go.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
Dean claps him on the shoulder, squeezing a little. “No sweat, what are friends for, right?”
Warmth spreads through Cas’s chest at this easy admission that Dean considers them friends, but it’s tinged with bitterness that it can’t be more than that.
Get a grip, Castiel. Dean’s friendship isn’t second-best.
He rummages in his cabin bag and pulls out some lounge pants and his new eye mask, courtesy of a discount code from Flyguy’s instagram.
“Oh hey, you’ve got one of those sleep masks too.”
Cas looks down at his own hand as if Dean could be referring to something he’s not aware of. Stupid beautiful men making him stupid in the head. The navy-blue velvet peeks out from between his fingers, embroidered writing illegible where it’s scrunched up, but the style clearly recognisable. “Ah, yes, a… a friend recommended it to me. You’ve seen them before?”
Dean’s nodding and grinning. “Yeah. Huh, I didn’t know they were that well-known… Your friend has great taste, those are awesome”
Cas gives a weak smile. “Well, like you said. What are friends for?”
Dean barks a laugh. “Fixing your seat and recommending sleep accessories. Yeah, that tracks.”
Cas grabs the complimentary flight washbag and makes his escape to the bathroom before he can say anything else foolish.
~EWR~
It’s not an addiction, Cas reminds himself. His time on instagram is entirely through his own choice and control. Nevertheless, he logs on the moment he’s in the back of the car on the way to the office. He’s a little put out when he realises that Flyguy hasn’t sent him any messages while he’s been offline, but figures he’s been busy. Plus, it’s not like Cas was checking instagram when he had Dean’s company.
As if prompted by his thoughts, his phone buzzes in his hand.
@thatbiflyguy: pretty sure its not normal to get off a red eye and feel refreshed
@thatbiflyguy: but im not complaining
@holytaxaccountant: You’ve been travelling again today?
@holytaxaccountant: Me too. Did you have a good flight?
@thatbiflyguy: no flight is ever good
@thatbiflyguy: but i got to hang out with my travel buddy so thats a plus
Cas feels a jealous pang – a ridiculous, childish, pang – for a moment. It’s ludicrous to want Flyguy’s undivided attention, and it’s not like he doesn’t have his own ‘travel buddy’. Travelling with Dean is always nicer than flying alone, so Cas pulls himself together and decides he’s glad Flyguy also has someone to chat with in the air.
@holytaxaccountant: Well, I’m glad you had company.
@thatbiflyguy: yeh hes pretty awesome
@thatbiflyguy: cool as a cucumber but theres a lot going on underneath the surface
@thatbiflyguy: sounds weird but i think you guys would get along
Cas doubts it, but appreciates Flyguy’s effort to include him anyway. There’s no way some smooth jet-setter in Flyguy’s orbit would have time for an awkward corporate drone like him.
@holytaxaccountant: I’m sure he’s wonderful. He clearly has good taste in friends at least.
@thatbiflyguy: aww yr making me blush ;)
Cas rubs a hand over his face and tosses his phone onto the empty seat next to him. The combination of Dean and Flyguy in one day is just too much for him.
He’s always been a solitary person, enjoying quiet time alone to unwind from work. But these days, when he drifts off, he dreams of sharing a couch with Dean rather than a plane cabin – or Flyguy tentatively asking if he wants to meet up in real life, get to know each other a little. Getting to experience Dean’s presence is overwhelming as it is, and he should have known chatting to Flyguy so soon afterwards would be a bad idea. The last thing Cas needs is more pathetic fantasies clogging up his mind before a day of work.
But what if they weren’t just fantasies?
Okay, perhaps that’s a little far-fetched. But Cas knows Dean must be fairly local; the number of times they find themselves flying to and from the same airports can’t be purely coincidence.
On the other hand, Flyguy could be anywhere – very likely within the United States, but really, who knows? Maybe halfway around the world.
However – and this is the part he can’t bring himself to think about too closely, can’t truly admit to considering even in his own mind – at least he knows that Flyguy is interested in men.
Cas feels the tips of his ears heat up. This train of thought is pointless. Even if Dean were interested in men – and he probably isn’t – he always looks like a supermodel even on long-haul flights. Cas looks down at himself – at his rumpled shirt and ever-present trench coat, and his tie that has somehow ended up back-to-front again.
Even if Dean were interested in men, he wouldn’t be interested in total messes.
Cas retrieves his phone, this time to use as a mirror while he tries to fix his tie ahead of his meeting.
~SEA~
“It would just make all the difference if we could get someone from Finance over to the Hong Kong office for the audit.”
Cas hears his colleagues griping as he rounds the corner into the ‘collaborative space’ (or what used to be known as a plain old meeting room). Hannah has her arms folded, a pained expression on her face as Alfie puts his case forward.
“It’s not that I don’t want to send anyone, Alf, it’s that everyone’s overloaded with other projects right now. Nobody in Finance has the bandwidth to go on a field trip to make sure Fergus hasn’t made a mess of things again.”
“But if he has, and nobody goes, we’ll be screwed.”
“I’m happy to go,” Cas interjects.
“If he has, we’re screwed anyway, even if someone else is there as backup”
Cas tries again. “I don’t mind going over to Hong Kong for the audit.”
His colleagues both turn to look at him.
“Thanks, Castiel, but I know you’ve got the P&OE account to worry about right now.”
“P&OE will look after itself. I’ve done most of the work already. The rest can be a form of distraction so I don’t throttle Crowley,” he adds, drily. “Besides, I enjoy travelling.”
Hannah laughs. “I know you do. I thought only the newbies enjoyed travelling for work this much. Aren’t you sick of it by now?”
Cas shrugs. “Visiting the other offices in person is very important.” I definitely have no ulterior motives for volunteering for international air travel.
“I don’t understand you, Castiel, but I’m glad you’re doing what makes you happy.”
~HKG~
Cas is almost giddy when Dean turns up on his flight home from Hong Kong. It almost makes up for the absolute havoc Crowley had wreaked upon the accounts system in the lead up to the audit, and the hours of heavy lifting it took to get everything back into shape before they got hauled up in front of the authorities.
“Dude, you feeling ok? You look a little tired.”
Cas lets out a tired laugh. “I’m fine. It’s been a long week.”
“No shit. Just show those puppy eyes to the hostess when she comes by with the little towel thingies, get her to crack open the whiskey early.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Dean.”
“You’re right, it’s not a good idea, it’s a great idea. C’mon, you need to relax and unwind a bit. I won’t even disturb you; I swear I can keep my trap shut sometimes, look.” Dean mimes zipping his mouth closed.
“I object. That’s an even worse idea than the whiskey.”
“Aw, Cas, you sure know how to make a guy feel wanted.”
Cas blushes, and busies himself looking for something in his cabin bag. He’s not sure what he’s looking for yet, but he’s sure he can figure something out in the time it takes his face to cool down. When he emerges, having ‘found’ his phone and turned it off, Dean is unpacking his sleepwear already.
“You’re going to sleep straight away?”
Wow, Cas, way to sound needy and whiny. What kind of question is that?
Dean, to his credit, doesn’t seem fazed.“Not sure yet, but I figured I wanna be comfortable either way, and these jeans are eating my ass.”
Cas chokes slightly, but manages not to make any of the comments rushing to the forefront of his mind in response to that.
“Anyways, I’m gonna go change. You want anything from the galley while I’m up?”
Cas composes himself and looks up at Dean to respond in the negative, but gets distracted by a strip of green fabric hanging from one hand.
“You got one of those sleep masks too?”
“Ah, yeah, well.” Dean shifts. “This one was actually a present. My friend thinks she’s funny.” He holds it up a little so Cas can see the writing on it. ‘Nobody Knows I’m Queer’ is embroidered in metallic rainbow thread across emerald velvet.
Cas…isn’t sure what his face is doing. His mind is spinning.
Is it supposed to be funny because it’s untrue? Has Castiel unwittingly been falling for the kind of person who laughs at gay jokes? He didn’t think Dean was like that, but it’s not like they know each other that well, after all.
Dean eyes him warily, the growing silence becoming awkward. “Is this…a problem? Me being, y’know…”
Cas’s face clears, but his brain fills with white noise. Me being, y’know…
He unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth and tries to assemble a coherent sentence. “Oh, I see. It’s fine. I mean, it’s not a problem. It’s the opposite of a problem, really. No problems here.” He only meets Dean’s eyes for one mortifying second, but feels a blush rising in his cheeks anyway. He hopes Dean doesn’t read anything into it. Me being, y’know…
Dean runs a hand through his hair and shuffles off to the washroom, and Cas puts his head in his hands. This is going to be a long flight.
~DTW~
Cas can’t sleep.
That’s not particularly unusual; he’s always struggled with jet lag after a long flight, and tonight is no exception. But he knows it’s not just jet lag this time.
Me being, y’know…
Cas grumbles and rolls over.
The conversation continued as if nothing had happened once Dean was back in his seat, for which Cas was grateful. Dean was kind like that – he wasn’t the type to draw attention to someone turning into a stammering mess for no good reason.
Cas’s own brain, however, is still stuck in a loop.
Me being, y’know…
If there’s a chance – any chance at all – that Dean is interested in men, and since it seems like he doesn’t despise Cas’s presence, maybe…
No. Cas shuffles and tries to scrunch his pillow into something more comfortable than a brick wall. Just because Dean’s queer, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have standards.
But what’s the worst that could happen? asks a sly voice in his head. You ask for his number, he says no, you just book a different plane seat for your next trip and you don’t have to speak to each other again.
Ugh.
Cas headbutts the stupid pillow. “I’m not going to ask him anything, and that’s that,” he says aloud to the dark and empty room.
He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.
~MXP~
Thursday starts just the same as it always does. Thursdays are for preparing project wrap-up calls, sending progress figures to the client, approving the week’s timesheets: mundane tasks that provide some comfort and simplicity even when Cas’ has been rushing halfway around the planet in the preceding days. Thursdays are the calm in the eye of the storm.
Admin complete, Cas launches Instagram out of habit. He had a lot of engagement on his most recent post about his last hotel in Milan – almost none of them commenting on the local honey being served as part of the breakfast, which he’d tried to highlight, but a lot of fuss about the curtains being the wrong length for the window. (Sometimes he wonders why he bothers captioning his pictures at all, since people will always find something obscure to pick up on and squabble about for days on end.)
He notes with a smile that he has some new messages from Flyguy, and that he’s also posted a few new pictures from his most recent travels. Cas navigates to Flyguy’s profile first, hungry for every scrap of information about the man’s life.
As Cas scrolls and likes, scrolls and likes, he’s caught for a moment on a picture of what looks like a pile of blankets. Blankets on a laid-flat business class window seat of a United Airlines plane.
A pile of blankets with a navy blue velvet band declaring “NO COFFEE, NO WAKEY” and a mess of dark hair peeking out of one end.
He stares at the picture, uncomprehending, until his phone screen goes black.
It can’t be.
He unlocks his phone again, squints harder at the picture. It still doesn’t compute. He scrolls to the caption, willing it to make sense. Willing it to tell him his eyes are playing tricks on him.
@thatbiflyguy Today’s #throwbackthursday pic is of my flight buddy modelling one of @queenbradbury’s eye masks. The blanket burrito disguise is the only reason he’s not down as #mcm but trust me, this guy doesn’t need any more beauty sleep. #tbt #donotdisturb #sleepingbeauty #travelhacks
It’s at this point Cas realises he’s stopped breathing.
He tries to remedy this too quickly, and ends up coughing his lungs up. He scrolls through the comment threads, reading through watering eyes.
@hexentaenzerin WHO IS HE
@thatbiflyguy a gentleman never tells ;)
@thatbiflyguy anyway i don’t think he even has insta so i can’t tag him
@dontsteffonme we need more pics of your mcm!!1!
@thatbiflyguy he didn’t even know about this one, i can’t just keep snapping him and putting him all over the internet
@dontsteffonme r u sure tho
@CHADTHUNDERCOCK using #mcm for your ‘buddy’ is homophobic
@ingrid bro do you even go here
@thatbiflyguy trust me, there’s nothing homophobic about my attitude towards this guy
His face may not be in the picture, but it’s unmistakably Cas. He’s not sure which flight it was even taken on – it could have been that first one back from Japan, or pretty much any subsequent flight he’s slept on. It’s not a short list – that mask is a lifesaver – and FlyGuy’s clearly been careful to keep any identifying features of either location or subject out of the photo.
Cas gets up and paces around the office, trying to work off the nervous energy threatening to overtake his whole body.
Surely there must be some rational explanation for all this. Some explanation other than his closest friend turning out to be his other closest friend. This has to be some kind of cosmic joke. He grasps blindly for an explanation, or for proof that he’s wrong.
Surely he’s seen Flyguy’s face in one of his posts before? Wouldn’t he have recognized him, if he were Dean?
Cas fumbles for his phone and scrolls frantically through post after post on Flyguy’s profile, searching for some evidence in either direction.
He doesn’t find any pictures of Flyguy’s face.
He does find pictures of robot dinosaurs at Henn Na Hotel in Tokyo. Reviews of Japanese street food. Pictures from Hong Kong airport some time later.
He sits back in his office chair and begins trying to draft a message to Flyguy.
@holytaxaccountant: I didn’t know you had taken that picture.
@holytaxaccountant: Can we talk?
@holytaxaccountant: This is going to sound weird, but is your name Dean?
Frustrated, he deletes every attempt. How is he supposed to tell his friend that they’ve met, without sounding like the ultimate stalker? This is much worse than the woman who followed him around half of Europe. He can’t bear to imagine the disgust on Dean’s face.
No; this isn’t a conversation to have over social media. This will have to wait.
~LHR~
@thatbiflyguy: hey man long time no chat
@thatbiflyguy: wish youd been on my last flight
@thatbiflyguy: damn plane wifi was broken
@thatbiflyguy: all the way from EWR to goddamn LIS and nothing to entertain me but the snoring of the guy opposite
Cas simply doesn’t know how to respond. So he doesn’t.
@thatbiflyguy: you good?
@thatbiflyguy: saw yr pics from milan so ig you havent died in a massive fireball ha ha
@thatbiflyguy: srsly tho i was worried
@thatbiflyguy: anyway see ya around
@thatbiflyguy: im sorry if i said something that pissed you off
@thatbiflyguy: maybe yr taking a break from the socials
@thatbiflyguy: hope all ok
~DFW~
Three weeks.
It’s been three weeks since he last spoke to Flyguy. Dean. Three weeks and four round-trip flights.
Not that Flyguy – Dean – hasn’t been messaging him. Sure, the messages are getting fewer and further between, and have gone from friendly to concerned to pissed off back to concerned, but Cas is just too much of a coward to have the conversation he knows is inevitable.
Fundamentally, he knew that Dean and Flyguy were each too good to be true; he just didn’t think he’d have to face losing both of them at once. With every solo flight he takes, the probability of coming face to face with Dean on the next one climbs higher, and he truly can’t decide if he’s hoping for or dreading the moment more.
When it finally comes, Cas is in 8L as usual, knee bouncing with nerves and hands mindlessly shredding bits off the cover of Hemispheres, getting ready to depart from Dallas. When Dean boards, Cas is shocked to see him looking drawn, eyes tight, as he crosses the plane and settles in 8G, kicking his bag under the seat. Cas’s imagination draws a little cartoon thundercloud over his head, which nearly makes him laugh out loud in a slightly hysterical way, but thankfully he manages to keep it together.
…Now what?
Cas realises that, in all his freaking out about seeing Dean again after his revelation, he hasn’t considered how to broach the subject when the time came. ‘Sorry to bother you, I know you thought you’d been confiding in a stranger, but it turns out it’s just been me all along. I promise I’m not a crazy fan stalking you?’
Yeah…maybe not.
Before he has a chance to articulate anything at all, Dean catches his eye and his expression relaxes into something contrite. “Hey, man. Sorry, it’s good to see you… it’s just been a rough couple of weeks. How’ve you been?”
Cas opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He tries again. “Dean, I’m so sorry, I…”
“Nah, dude, it’s nothing to do with you. You shouldn’t have to deal with my bullshit.”
“Do…do you want to talk about it?”
Dean snorts. “It’s just stupid.”
Cas frowns. “I’m sure it’s not stupid. It’s certainly not stupid if it’s upsetting you.” Dean’s face sags a little, and he busies himself buckling into the seat. Cas tries more gently, “Will you tell me what happened?”
“I just…” Dean sighs sharply. “I just haven’t heard from my buddy for a while, that’s all. Told you it was stupid. I thought – well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. And now I miss him, I guess.” He looks up to meet Cas’s anxious gaze. “Told you it was stupid.”
Wait.
Dean’s upset because of not hearing from Cas?
Dean misses him?
“...Well, maybe –”
But Cas doesn’t get far.
“It’s stupid because I let myself think there was more going on, but then I didn’t really want that because – shit. I dunno.” Dean looks at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. “I’m sorry, you didn’t sign up for this.”
“Dean. It’s okay. You don’t need to –”
“It’s not okay, Cas. I upset one of my best friends, and I have no idea how. I feel like I’ve lost someone I was really close to, and it’s messing me up. I thought I had a connection with this guy, and the only other person I’ve felt like that with is, well.” Dean looks away again. “Is you, I guess.”
Cas can feel his pulse racing in his temples. He can’t speak; can’t do anything but stare at Dean. What?
“Shit, sorry, I’m messing things up. Don’t let my emo ass scare you off, ‘kay?” Dean manages a watered-down version of his usual bravado. “No need to let me down gently, I can take it.”
“Dean…” Dean shakes his head and looks as if he’s about to interrupt again. “No. Dean. Listen to me.” Cas takes a deep breath. “First of all, I need to apologize.”
Dean looks nonplussed. “What? Why would you need to apologize? I’m the one having the chick-flick meltdown over here.”
“Dean.” Cas leans over across the aisle and places a hand gently on Dean’s forearm. Dean looks at the hand, looks back at Cas’s face, and his eyes narrow slightly. “I’m sorry to have caused you worry. It wasn’t my intention.” He takes a deep breath and forces himself to carry on. “I was just…a bit surprised to see a picture of myself on Instagram.”
“You were…” Dean’s brow furrows, trying to make the connection between what Cas is saying and what Cas is trying to tell him.
“Yes, Dean. I was surprised to look at my friend’s Instagram profile and discover that I must have met that friend in real life.” Dean’s still looking at him suspiciously; Cas can’t blame him. “I panicked and didn’t know what to say, so I stopped responding to my friend’s – your – messages. I was so concerned about losing someone who matters very much to me that I didn’t think about how it might seem from the other side. I am very sorry for upsetting you.”
Cas clears his throat awkwardly and draws back, removing his hand from Dean’s arm and dropping his eyes to the floor.
He doesn’t get far before his hand is grasped by two of Dean’s. “You – I mean, we – you said I matter very much to you?” Dean tries, haltingly.
Cas winces. “That sounded odd. I meant it in a nice way.”
“I took it in a nice way.”
Cas meets Dean’s eyes again, now full of hope where there had been doubt. “Oh.” He relaxes a little. “That’s good.”
There’s another awkward stretch of silence as they both continue leaning across the aisle, hands clasped in the middle.
“Hey, Cas, could–”
“Gentlemen, please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. The plane is preparing for takeoff.”
Dean throws the speaker a pained look. “We’re having a moment. Please? Just a minute?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I must ask you to fasten your seatbelt.”
Dean sits back, muttering under his breath about timing, but dutifully clips his seatbelt and shows it to the flight attendant, who moves on to the next row. Cas tries to hold back the fit of giggles threatening to overtake him.
“Hey, laugh it up, I was trying to be sincere.”
“Yes, I heard we were ‘having a moment.’”
“Shuddup.”
They smile stupidly at each other from their respective seats as the familiar sounds of the safety announcement and flight control checks hum in the background. Then Cas has a thought, and his face twists in consternation. There’s still something he doesn’t understand.
Dean frowns. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I just have one question. What does #mcm mean?”