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Dean watches Castiel flirt in a very artless and endearing fashion. His blood boils in his veins. He feels like hitting something. Anything. Everything. Because the flirting that is currently happening is not directed at him.
Hell has nothing on the fury of his rage right now.
Cas's dextrous fingers are on Brianna's arm. Bri, he thinks. He calls her Bri.
He actually feels a vein throbbing in his neck. He thought that was a metaphor. Or was it a simile? Never fucking mind, because Cas has his hand on the girl's hip right now and that is the only thought in Dean's head.
Don't fucking touch her, touch me. Dean chokes on the words. He's nauseous. He is seriously so mad he's about to puke. He swallows down bile and heads for the kitchen.
Beer. Or maybe whiskey. Something to take the edge off the ache in his heart. Castiel likes her. Of course he does, who wouldn't. Young, nubile hunter. Leggy. Blond. Sassy as fuck and just as sarcastic as Dean is.
She looked good, on paper, too. Dean had checked. And checked again. Has her shit together. MBA from University of Chicago. Owns her own bakery. Widowed young by werewolves, no kids. Smart as all hell. He overheard her and Cas talking poetry. Poetry, for fuck's sake.
How does Dean compete with all that? Highschool dropout who only recently got his GED. Hunter, which speaks for itself. No one wants a hunter's life. Not by choice. Emotionally damaged. Baggage sky-high. List of one-night stands as long as his leg. He is a fucken mess.
No wonder Cas wants simple, pulled-together, feisty Brianna. No trauma, no baggage. Hot with brains. Brains Dean does not have. Sure, he's hot, too. But he starts to wonder if that is all he is. A pretty face, with nothing underneath. Like a Honda Insight. Looks good, but nothing under the hood.
Dean hides in the kitchen pretending to eat lunch while he downs a beer and pushes macaroni around on his plate. He goes to the garage and takes a ride in Baby, and picks up a bacon cheeseburger, because its 3pm and he only pretended to eat lunch.
He finds himself back at the bunker only twenty miles later. God, this man has a hold on him. He can't leave Cas for any significant amount of time. Even if he is interested in someone else. Someone great. Someone he deserves.
Dean is undeserving, that's a fact. He knows it, Cas knows it. Brianna probably knows it, too. That's why she was all over Cas like a dog with a new bone. Bumping her shoulder into his, ruffling his hair playfully, holding his arm like she's a fine lady and he's her escort.
Ugh! The thought of it drives him crazy, makes him want to run or fight. To do something . To take what should have been his.
Brianna might look good on paper, but Dean looks good on Cas. He remembers when he was a bumbling angel, so out of touch with everything. He remembers when he was a bumbling human, still not sure how to do it right, even without his grace. He remembers when he realized he was in love with him.
The wound, the barn. That night so long ago. He realized he couldn't let him go. Not then, not now, not ever.
Dean goes to his room, putting on the tv. He won't sleep tonight. He heard a feminine giggle from outside Cas's door and his heart wrenched in his chest, a knife twisted in his gut.
All at once, he's mad as hell again. Cas is his. He knows it, Cas needs to know it, too.
He stalks to Cas's room and knocks harder than is necessary. When 'Bri' opens the door, all the wind goes out of him. He knew she was there, but seeing it is worse somehow. After a moment he manages to give some excuse about it being bunker rules that everyone sleep in their own rooms.
Vaguely, he registers Cas behind her and his eyes go to him like a magnet. Brianna says goodnight, or something. Dean doesn't know, and doesn't care. Cas is staring at him blatantly, still holding the stack of DVDs he has supposedly been showing Brianna.
Dean can't think. What has he done? Ruined Cas's night? Cock-blocked him? Man, where is his head at? He'd never do that to anyone, much less Cas.
"I didn't know that was a rule," Cas says slowly. "Technically, I didn't break it last night, in your room, since I don't sleep." His lips twitch in small smile.
"I—" Dean scrubs a hand over his face. First, he needs to make sure Cas knows what he's doing. "Do you know she's got the hots for you?"
Cas frowns. It looks fake. "When last I touched her she did not feel hot."
Dean almost chokes on the words, but he needs to make sure Cas knows what he's getting into. "Don't pull that with me. You know what I'm sayin'."
"I do." Cas sets down the stack of movies and sits on the edge of his bed, ocean-colored eyes fixed on Dean's. He says nothing further and Dean can take a hint.
Dean nods tightly, that vein in his neck beginning to throb again. Teeth clenched, he grates out, "Got it. Sorry to interfere." He raises his hands, palms out. "Go get her, tell her to come back. It's…none of my business."
To his utter astonishment, Cas says, "I don't want her to come back. I'd…like for you to stay."
Shock and hope war within him. Dean steps into the room, and closes the door. He leans against it, trying to get air into his lungs. He feels a bit lightheaded. "Then why were all over her all day?"
"You noticed." Cas gives a small, triumphant smile.
He mutters, "Oh, for fuck's sake." He's been played. The angel was trying to get a rise out of him. "Cas…"
"Dean."
He sucks in a breath and let's it out slowly, trying to calm the hammering of his heart. "You playing games with me?"
Castiel shrugs, maddeningly. "Maybe. It may have been Bri's idea."
Dean grits his teeth and throws up his hands as he begins to pace. "Cas, goddamnit! You can't screw with me like that."
Nonchalantly, he says, "It had the desired effect."
Dean explodes. "What?! Driving me crazy?"
"Yes."
Dean feels like he blacks out for a moment. He isn't really sure what he's saying anymore. They finally talk about getting out of the Empty. About what it was which made it release them.
Before he can fully wrap his mind around what is happening, he finds Cas saying, "We love each other." Cas smiles sadly. "But we don't….love the same. You love me as a brother and I—"
Time stands still. Was that what Cas thought? Was that why he hadn't said it again? He thought Dean didn't want him?
"I love you, Cas. Love love. None of this brother bullshit. Sammy is my brother, you're…not." There is so much more to it than that. But Dean doesn't know how else to say it and hopefully Cas lets him off easy because he needs to know. He needs to know he holds Dean's heart in the palm of his hand.
Cas meets his gaze, eyes hopeful. "Dean…. Will you stay?"
His mouth goes dry. His heart stills, then resumes pounding, racing like he's been running. "Sure. If that's what you want."
"I don't mean stay here. I mean stay . With me. Stay with me always."
Dean shakes his head. How is that even a question? How can he show Cas what he means to him? How can he possibly understand if Dean can't put it to words? Voice rough to his own ears, he says, "Of course I will. I am." He takes several deep breaths. Now is his chance. His only chance. And Cas needs to know. "You're mine , you got that? I told the Empty the same thing. That you couldn't belong to it, because you already belong to me . I'm yours and you're mine."
Cas gets to his feet fluidly, moving like a predator. Everything in Dean stills. Cas stalks toward him with purpose, eyes intent on his own. Every nerve in his body sings as Castiel presses his lips to his, hands on his hips, drawing him close.
Dean pulls back slightly, his lips a hair's breadth from Castiel's, his breath hot on his cheek. "You know, sweetheart, you're supposed to close your eyes."