Work Text:
Castiel has determined that feelings suck.
He’s struggling as a human, struggling to understand these complex feelings. He can practically feel them coursing through his veins, like a sorry replacement for the angelic grace he once had. It makes him feel exposed, vulnerable, something he is not at all familiar with. When he’s sad he knows he’s sad, when he’s happy he knows he’s happy. And when he’s in love...well, he’s just very aware of his feelings.
Sam and Dean have been teaching him how to be human, the difference between healthy and unhealthy foods and the importance of sleep, even if those lessons are a bit hypocritical. Dean has done most of the teaching, making sure Cas tries all of his favorite foods and keeping him hydrated. But there is something in the way Dean acts when he’s teaching him the human way that just simply isn’t there when Sam does the same. It’s… …overwhelming for Cas at times, but there’s a gleam in Dean’s eyes, a look that wordlessly says “I care about you.” This look might be the only thing that’s keeping him going.
Cas doesn’t know how to open up to Dean about how he’s feeling or why the simplest eye contact with him sends a tingling feeling all throughout his body, something that he never noticed before. It’s not like he’s ever been the best at communication, but now that he’s human, now that he is mortal, it’s like all of the emotional progress that he’s made with Dean has been swept away.
Castiel has been human for about a week and a half, when Sam invites him to go on a hunt with him and Dean. He’s skeptical, of course, most of the confidence was drained from his body when the grace left, but Sam insists. In reality, it’s Dean that had convinced him to come along.
“Look, Cas, I know you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Cas responded quickly. Dean just looks at him, clearly looking straight through his lie.
“All I’m saying is that this case is a basic salt and burn, and there’s no reason to be…” he pauses for a second, “... not scared .”
That’s all it took for Cas to come along for the ride.
During the first day of the hunt, Dean ends up giving Cas a lesson in Hunting 101. He teaches Cas how to load, turn the safety on and off, and fire the gun he got for him, a pistol with a silver handle and matte black accents, contrasting perfectly with Dean’s, silver with white accents. He teaches Cas which bullets to use for specific monsters, and shows him the ropes of research, using both the internet and his father’s journal. Finally, he teaches him some basic fighting skills, to which he catches on quickly. Cas has fought angels, he can easily fight Dean. He’s got him pinned in about 30 seconds, arms held against the floor on either side of his head. They’re both breathing heavily, warm breaths mixing together. There’s something there, Cas knows it, he’s positive Dean knows it, but that’s the thing, there is something there . That’s not something he can fully wrap his brain around.
There is something there.
So now here they are, Team Free, walking lackadaisically into the motel room they have been holed up in for the past few days. Sam’s happy that they killed the spirit, but the way he plods into the room shows how exhausted he is. Dean, well, he looks like shit. The little spirit used him as a punching bag before Cas could drop the lighter in the grave, leaving him with a few cuts and bruises and a black eye as the cherry on top. And that’s eating at Cas’ spirit, making him walk with his shoulders hunched and his feet dragging on the dirty, wrinkled motel carpet.
“I’m checking out for the night,” Sam says, attempting to break the tension in the deafening silence.
“Yeah, I second that,” Dean agrees, sauntering into the bathroom to shower. Cas says nothing, plopping down on the pull-out couch. Dean wanted to let Cas have the actual bed, but after seeing the extent of his injuries, Cas insisted on sleeping on the pull-out. There is, though, a slight twang of regret when he sits down and hears the flimsy springs creek.
Eventually, Dean and Sam are all settled in, falling in and out of consciousness. Cas, on the other hand, is lying on his uncomfortable pull-out couch, staring at the ceiling and listening to Sam’s light snores and the mumbling of Dean’s sleep-talking. Cas is used to these sounds. After all, he spent many years just watching over them as they slept, whether they truly knew it or not. Eventually, these sounds act as his own personal white noise machine, slowly but surely lulling Cas to sleep.
“DEAN!”
Dean, on the floor, not breathing.
"DEAN! Come on, wake up!”
Cas shakes the lifeless man’s shoulders. He puts two fingers gently on his head, but nothing happened. He’s not an angel anymore, he has no grace, he can’t save the man he loves.
“Of course, you can’t save him, you killed my brother!” Sam’s voice calls out from behind him.
“No…No, I-...There’s no way…I-I couldn’t have done this.” Cas stammers.
“Look at what you did,” this phrase repeating over and over again by everyone in his life. Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, Sam, Chuck, Bobby, and even himself.
“DEAN!”
Cas awakens with a start, sitting up quickly and hearing the springs squeak once again. He feels the cold sweat roll down his back and his face and his legs. He looks frantically around the room for something, anything that tells him that Dean is alive. Sam is asleep in his bed, seemingly unbothered, but that’s not quite what Cas would call concrete evidence. His breathing is starting to speed up when he sees that Dean’s bed is messy, like he had gotten up quickly. He starts losing control of his breath and his vision proceeds to blur. He curls himself into a ball in the middle of the pull-out and lets the panic set in. He’s shaking, basically hyperventilating, and he honestly thinksthis is what dying is like.
Cas doesn’t keep track of how long he’s in his little ball of panic, but the next thing he knows, there’s a voice cutting through the muffled air. “Shit, Cas!” He feels the squeak of the springs after they sit down on the bed. He honestly can’t figure out who’s there with him, because the whole world feels like it’s caving in on him, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Then, a hand is laid on his knee, which causes him to flinch back with so much force that he almost falls off of the bed.
“Sorry! Fuck,” the curse, mumbled under his breath. “Cas? It’s me, Dean, okay? I’m here.” Cas’ head moves from left to right over and over again as he mumbles “No, Dean…I-I…I couldn’t s-save him.”
“Cas, I’m here, I’m alive, It wasn’t real.” As he reaches out to grab Cas’ hand he stops, almost forgetting what happened the last time he touched him without asking. “Can I hold your hand?”
Cas is so far gone that he just nods his head, unable to say any words through his spastic breathing. Dean grabs his hand and puts it up against his chest, making sure that Cas can clearly feel his heartbeat. “Cas, I’m here and my heart is beating. I’m okay, I’m alive .” And Dean’s right. His heart is beating but for some reason, he still can’t calm his shaking or his breathing. He reaches his other hand out for Dean’s chest, but it’s shaking so much that he can’t keep it stable.
“It’s ok, my love, I’ve got it,” Dean says with no hesitation, grabbing his hand and placing it firmly next to the other on his chest. He ignores the pet name for now, still trying to steady his breathing. The soft cotton of Dean’s sleep shirt is soothing against the cold of the drying sweat on his skin. Cas makes eye contact with Dean for the first time since the attack started, seeing that there were tears in his eyes as well. He’s wearing a pitiful smile on his face, but not the kind that would make Cas feel even smaller and more vulnerable than he does at this moment. It shows him how much Dean truly cares, how much he wants to make Cas feel better.
“Just breathe Cas, In……Out.”
Some undefined amount of time passes by as they simply follow each other's breathing, neither of them truly knowing if it was a matter of minutes or hours. After Cas’ breathing finally becomes steady, he drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder letting exhaustion take over his body.
“You ready to go back to sleep?” Dean questions, getting a simple whimper as a response, which he takes as a yes. But as he starts to get up and walk back to his bed, Cas reaches out and grabs his arm tightly, giving him a look that says don’t even fucking think about leaving right now .
“Do you want me to stay?” Dean asks. Cas nods and speaks for the first time since he could breathe again, “I need you right now, Dean.” The rasp in his voice just makes it more obvious that he’s begging.
“Ok, but I’m not letting you sleep on this atrocity of a bed anymore.” With that, Dean sweeps Cas up in his arms. The bridal carry over to the comfy queen bed is as graceful as it could’ve been with the room being dark, Dean still being sore from the hunt earlier, and Cas still mildly trembling in the hunter’s arms. Despite these facts, Dean still lifts him like he didn’t weigh more than a feather. He sets his angel down carefully, especially because he is already dozing off in his arms. He climbs into the bed next to Cas and makes sure to put on the best big spoon performance of his life. He drapes one arm around Cas’ abdomen and used the other hand to play with his hair, using all of the soothing methods he knows.
A few minutes pass, and Dean assumes that Cas is asleep. After taking a closer look though, he sees that Cas is just laying in his arms with no expression, but he seems content. Dean just smiles lightly and says, “Are you feeling better?”
“You always make me feel better, Dean. That is one thing that I have found never fails.” This comment may be the truest thing that Cas has ever said. Whenever he is around Dean, even if they are in a dangerous situation, Cas feels safe. Cas feels secure. Cas feels loved.
Dean just lays there, staring into the blue abyss of the other man’s eyes. “I love you,” he says. There is no chance that he would've been able to hold this confession back any longer. He’s loved this angel for a long time, even if he shot and stabbed him the first time they met. He’s all Dean thinks about and sometimes he is the only thing that gets him through the day. So there’s no point in even trying to hold back how he feels. “I love you,” he says again.
“And I, you.” Of course, it’s reciprocated. Of course, Cas loves Dean. He always has, and he always will.
Their foreheads meet each other and their lips connect. It’s a soft and slow and intimate kiss, but it’s the most magical one either of them has ever experienced. There’s a promise behind it, a promise of being there for the other, a promise of loyalty, love, care, and happiness. They settle back into each other’s arms, dozing off into a restful sleep.
Dean wakes up the next morning to the warmth of Castiel’s breath against his neck, a feeling that he thinks he will never, ever get tired of. He doesn’t understand how he’s gone this long without the wonderful feeling of Cas’ body pressing up against his, their legs tangling together. Cas’ head is laying on his bare stomach where his shirt had ridden up throughout the night. Another day he might have been turned on by the position, but this morning he simply finds it endearing. The love of his life, fast asleep on his stomach. Dean moves one of his hands and scratches Cas’ head, to which he makes a cute little delighted noise in his sleep. Cas burrows himself further into the warmth of Dean, and by doing so, he covers his body fully with the duvet. Dean just keeps comforting his angel, making sure his dreams are sweet.
Sam somehow managed to sleep through all of the commotion of the night before, just further proving that he is one heavy-sleeping moose. Despite his moosey ways, Sam is a morning person, going on runs every morning and when they are at the bunker making an omelet when he gets back. As he’s getting ready for his run, he notices the empty pull-out couch. Sam worries about Cas, especially now that he’s human, so he decides that he should probably find out where he disappeared to before he leaves.
As he’s looking, he notices that Dean is awake, laying on his back with a content smile on his face. “Hey, Dean. Why are you up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” That’s a lie. He just wanted to watch his angel sleep the way that Cas had watched him so many times before.
“Oh…okay. Do you know where Cas went? I can’t find him.”
“He’s asleep,” is all Dean replies with.
“Well, he’s not on the pull-out, so I don’t know where he could have–”
That’s what Sam is able to say before Cas starts to rustle from under the duvet. He decides, in sleepy Cas fashion, to lay his head on Dean’s shoulder and wrap his arms around his torso like a koala on a tree. Dean, of course, adjusts accordingly, moving his hands from where they were playing with Cas’ hair to drape over his back, drawing an array of different shapes on the sleeping man’s back. When Dean looks up at Sam, he is looking between the two entangled men with a look of bewilderment. He’s about to open his mouth to say something when Dean cuts him off.
“Shhh. He’s had a very long night and he needs to sleep.” Sam just leaves to go on his run as a smug smile gets painted across his face.
About an hour later, Cas starts to awaken from his sleep, slowly nuzzling his way further into Dean’s side and making content little noises. While Cas was sleeping, Dean had kept one arm across his body with a book in the other, so when Cas looks up at Dean wearing reading glasses and holding a book about how small habits can make big impacts, he can’t help but want to kiss the man.
He pushes Dean’s book down onto the mattress and rises up to Dean’s eye level. He starts by placing soft kisses all over Dean’s face, on the bridge of his nose, each freckle that catches his eye, his brow bone, his prominent jawline, and, of course, his lips. His lips are Cas’ last stop on his tour around Dean’s sculpted face, so he spends some extra time there, making sure that Dean knows just how loved he truly is.
Dean truly does feel loved at this moment. He lets Cas take the lead and leaves his hands on his angel’s hips, only ever moving to slowly slide his glasses off of his face and onto the table beside the bed. But when Cas’ lips connect with his own, he grips his waist tight and hoists him to a straddle on his lap. They make out slowly, savoring each kiss, each sound that the other made. Their hands venture around each other’s bodies, but not in an overly hungry way. Their hands simply just wander and explore and cherish the other’s body. Every once in a while, someone tests the waters, poking a tongue into the other’s mouth. And, of course, every time it is welcomed gratefully, sliding against the roof of a mouth or the top front teeth or even just the lip. It’s thoughtful and caring and loving and everything that they could have ever wished for. Eventually, though, they start to slow, deep kisses turning into little pecks.
“You are amazing, you know that, right?” Dean says in between kisses.
“Nothing could ever top you, Dean. You are the sun to my moon, the swiss to my cheese, and the bacon to my bacon cheeseburger.” This makes Dean chuckle deeply and playfully push Cas off of him and onto the other side of the bed. The sit there for a some time, just looking at each other. After a while though, Dean’s brow furrows, plastering a concerned look on his face. He shuffles forward on his side so that their faces are just inches away from each other.
“What’s wrong?” Cas asks.
“Are you okay? You had a really bad panic attack last night, Cas. You scared the shit out of me.” He pauses, a look of worry still on his face, trying to come up with the best words to fit the situation. “You mean so much to me, so when your hurting, even if you’re just dealing with an emotion you don’t understand, I want you to be able to put that burden on me and talk to me about it. I want to be the person you go to. You are my sunshine, Cas, so we can’t have any clouds lowering my supply of vitamin D.” He ends with a sweet smile, not like one Cas has ever seen on Dean’s face. It is real and it is just for him, making sure that he feels safe to open up about how he’s feeling.
“It’s just…the dream I had, and I thought that you died. I thought that it was my fault…Dean, people were telling me it was my fault.” A single tear falls from Cas’s eye, and Dean doesn’t hesitate to swipe it away with the pad of his thumb. He then gently palms the back of Cas’ neck, like a nonverbal reassurance that he would be okay. “It was the first nightmare I’ve had, you know.” He looked down and placed his hands on top of Dean’s other hand that was laying on his chest. “I didn’t know how to handle it. I’ve seen you have a couple episodes after a dream, and I’ve even helped you through a few, so I just can’t figure out why I couldn’t just get through it on my own. I’ve helped you, I’m sure that I should be able to help myself.”
“No.” He cuts in, hooking a finger under his chin, moving his head up so that they are making direct eye contact. The shiver cascades down Cas’ spine. “You never have to go through stuff like that alone, Cas. I love you and I care about you. We both know how we feel about each other, but just in case it wasn't clear, I’m along for the ride, through thick and thin, all that jazz. I’m here for you whatever you need, whether it’s to blow off some steam,” Dean adequately wiggles his eyebrows at that statement, “or to talk about your feelings, or just for some little spoon action. I’m here for you, Cas. I’m here for everything.” By this point, both of the men are crying, foreheads tilted to rest on each other. They just sit like that for God knows how long, not even crying anymore, just relishing in the other’s presence.
They sit like this until Sam walks in the door, looking at his phone with his headphones in, sweaty from his run. The couple just turn their heads to the man, seemingly unbothered by the fact that their bodies are tangled together every which way. Sam is halfway into the room when he looks up, seeing the two in the bed. He stops in his tracks, his face expressionless. Though Dean knows he shouldn’t, there’s still a split second where he thinks that Sam won’t approve of him and Cas being together. There’s that little voice in the back of his head, which sounds suspiciously like his father, saying that the way he feels about Cas is gross, unacceptable, and just plain wrong. But instead of berating him, Sam simply lifts his phone, snaps a photo, and walks nonchalantly into the bathroom to shower.
“Well, I guess that feline is out of the sack.” There’s a big, beautiful, and glowing smile on Cas’ face, because he’s proud. Cas has been working on his human expressions, even though they don’t quite make sense to him.
“So close, but no cigar.” Dean says. To this expression, Cas makes a face of utter confusion that causes Dean to laugh in a way that he’s never heard before. It sounds truly happy, truly joyful, and truly Dean.
Cas is starting to think that maybe not all feelings suck. Feeling have benefits, merit, and most importantly, feelings are what put the couple in the position that they are, and they couldn’t be more grateful.