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If they kissed, would it really be so strange? That was the question that settled into his dreams late on a Tuesday night in a hotel room. Sam slept quietly in the bed across from him, and Cas was nowhere near them.
If they talked about it first, would that be worse? That was the compromise that he decided upon the next day while tipping back the coffee that was set in front of him at some run down diner in Carlsbad. Sam was watching him like he could read his mind. He couldn’t. That was Cas’ department.
If he prayed about it, would everything change? That thought tripped through past the music that blasted too loudly out of the speakers in the Impala. He sang along with Sam hoping that it would drown out his other thoughts. Cas was in Tahoe. He should tell him that they were almost there.
If they did nothing, how would that feel? He knew the answer to that already, barely tolerable. It was habit now, but it was the kind of habit that built to resentment. He felt angry on many days, and he often had no reason for it. Sam bore the brunt of it, and Cas did his fair share of dealing with some of his worst moments.
If he asked him, would he let him down easy. Or would he say, finally, like he had been waiting for Dean to just ask the right question. They pulled into the parking lot, and Sam got out the moment that Dean shut off the engine to the car. Dean stayed for a moment more, staring off at the distant bank of snow that gave a blinding backdrop to the form of Cas standing, facing away from him.
If he asked him, would he stay? He knew that he would, but not the details. What would it mean to him, staying? Would it mean camping out in the library all night with books? Would it mean watching, waiting, longing for an old life, for all that was now missed. Would this too lead to resentment? Only now it would be someone else’s resentment. Sam looked back at him from across the parking lot. Cas turned then and looked too.
If he stayed, could he live with himself for having asked? He got out of the car and strode over to Sam and Cas. He did not want to take any more from him. He had taken enough. He thought about that, and he longed for a different way. He could not see another path though. Sam stepped aside as Dean approached. Cas pulled him into a hug. They did that sometimes. Sam taught him that, maybe. He hugged Cas back, fingers digging into Cas’ shoulders a little. It had been a long time since they had seen each other.
If you knew what I was thinking, would everything change? Cas pulled back from him and said, “Yes.” Dean froze with the word, not sure what to make of it. He hadn’t meant to pray, but then again, maybe he did. He turned to Sam and said nothing beyond a nod to the car that told his brother all that he needed to know. Sam trudged off to get their bags and check into the motel.
“If I want to tell you some things, would that be okay?” Cas nodded. Dean stepped close, settled his hands on his shoulders, breathed in his air, and closed his eyes. He prayed his questions into the silence, his worries, his what ifs, his desires. He opened his eyes to the snow bright world and Cas. His eyes glowing out at him in deepest affection.
“If I tell you that I’ve wanted to stay, but that I didn’t think it would be fair to you, would you understand?” The question was unexpected. Dean stared at him and didn’t answer. “If I tell you that I want you to ask me for the world so that I can give it to you, would you use your words, form the questions, give me the chance to respond?” Dean still stared, but he moved closer to him. “If I tell you that your thoughts and mine are one, would you worry less about the weight of them?” Dean nodded then. “If I kissed you, would it be easier for you? Because I’d like to try that.” Dean nodded again.
If we kissed in a parking lot surrounded by snow and filled with new questions, would one call this a beginning or an ending? Dean pulled back first and dragged his hand back into Cas’ hair. “Both,” Cas said and added, “Change is the beginning of a good thing and the ending of the old. This is good.” He kissed him again, and Dean let his questions settle into a quiet place in his mind. The kiss pressed them back, and was all the answer that he needed.