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Dean registers the discomfort on Sam’s face but he doesn’t care. The anger inside of him is boiling and if Sam stays in the War Room much longer Dean’ll be happy to air his grievances in that direction too. When Sam says he’ll look into the lore, Dean doesn’t break eye contact with Cas. It’s been building up for the past two months and he can’t hold it in any longer.
He feels incredibly stupid for being so hurt, “So you gonna go help him?” Dean spits out to while gripping onto the back of the chairs.
“In a moment.” Cas’s mouth constricts, Dean can see he’s angry too. Well good. “What’s wrong Dean?”
“Other than you letting Metatron go and God’s sister out there sucking souls? Oh nothing.” Dean’s heart painfully squeezes in the half truth.
“You’ve been,” Cas starts strongly then pauses and cocks his head. It looks like he’s trying to pick what phrase to use. “You’ve been keeping your distance.”
Dean shrugs, “Whatever man, we’ve been busy. You’ve been neck deep in Netflix.”
Cas lowers his voice, “I’m sorry for not helping more.”
Dean opens his mouth to rip into Cas and complain how he’s locked himself away, when Cas’s knees buckle. Dean rushes over before he falls.
“Dude what the hell?” Dean lowers Cas into a nearby seat. Gripping the arms of the chair he stays hunched over the angel.
“That wasn’t nearly as bad as it has been.” Cas’s red rimmed eyes makes guilt creep up the back of Dean’s neck.
Sam appears back in the doorway, “On second thought I’m gonna to head to bed.”
“Dude you look like crap.” Dean eyes his brother’s ashen complexion then turns to Cas. “You both do.”
“Thanks.” Cas mumbles.
“Yeah, great.” Sam brushes off Dean and turns to Cas, “You got everything you need?”
“No I’ll be there in a minute if that’s okay.”
That’s the moment Dean’s heart breaks. He knows he should be happy for his brother and his best friend, but he can’t find it in himself to be. Dean pushes off of Cas’s chair forcefully making the seat move slightly. Growling on his way out Dean manages, “I hope you’re happy.” The tries to say together but it gets stuck in his throat.
He used to be Cas’s favorite. So much for that profound bond shit, Dean thinks as he slams the door to his room.
Dean pulls out his bottle of Jack and flops onto the bed. Tossing the cap across the room, he doesn’t even try to aim for a trash can he just wants to throw something. Dean takes a swig and the alcohol burns his throat. If it could only burn his heart too, Dean decides that would be an improvement. Opening his laptop Dean initially thinks he should look for porn, but he’s lost the taste for it. Instead he pulls up his go-to comfort show. Doctor Sexy. A small smile plays on Dean’s lips as he drinks and listens to the drama. The goal in the back of his mind is to get drunk and pass out before his brother and former best friend friend start having sex. The thought makes his chest hurt and he takes another long pull of whiskey.
A knock on his door breaks through the alcohol induced fuzz. “What!” Dean grouces and pauses his show.
Cas peaks his head inside, “May I come in?”
“Don’t stay too long though. Wouldn't want Sam to miss you.” Dean doesn’t care how harsh that sounds, though he knows he’ll feel guilty tomorrow.
“Sam’s asleep.” Cas shuffles forward and sits on the foot of Dean’s bed.
“Good. He looked awful.” Dean takes another swig.
“Dean, what’s wrong?”
“I’m too fucking late. That’s what’s wrong. But whatever. Serves me right.”
Cas tilts his head and Dean looks away taking another drink to wash away how much it hurts to see that familiar gesture.
“Too late for what?”
“Doesn’t matter Cas. Not gonna change anything now. Go back to your boyfriend.”
Cas lowers his voice (How is that even freaking possible?) and dips his chin, “Dean, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Dean sputters on his alcohol and gestures wildly. “But you’re always in his room. I don’t see you anymore!”
“I watch Netflix in there. That’s all.”
“But you’ve been in there for two months. The whole time I was fixing up Baby. You were on his bed!” Instead of mine.
“Dean,” Cas begins to smirk, “You think Sam and I are together?”
“Well aren’t you?” Dean’s heart squeezes with a glimmer of hope that he hasn’t had since he returned from the werepires.
“No.”
Dean straightens up and starts to panic because he realizes he’s just shown his hand. He swallows and thinks fuck it before continuing, “You haven’t been sleeping in there?”
“No. I don’t sleep, remember?” Cas’s smirk turns into a grin. “This is why you’ve been avoiding me?”
Dean takes another swig and runs a hand down his face. Now that Cas is here he doesn’t know what to say.
“What were you watching?” Cas scoots forward leaning over to see the screen of Dean’s laptop.
“Doctor Sexy.” Dean’s raw voice is quiet, the anger from before drained. “It’s not Jenny Jones, but if you wanna stay you can.”
“I’d like that.” Cas slides up next to Dean matching his posture on the bed.
Dean takes a breath feeling a mixture calm and excitement because Cas is staying. He presses play and the drama continues with two doctors arguing then aggressively kissing.
“Aw yeah, a little make-up sex never hurt.” Dean chuckles to himself but remembers too late that he has a companion watching with him.
“I wouldn’t know.” Cas rumbles.
Dean turns his head, it’s only fair to educate the angel afterall. “It tends to be the most passionate because both people realize how close they were to losing the other.”
They lock eyes, mere inches away. Dean looks down at Cas’s lips and swallows wishing he had the guts to do something. Before he takes another breath, Cas closes the gap between them and slides a hand up Dean’s jaw.
Dean whimpers with need and blindly slams the laptop closed shoving it off his lap. His fingers thread into Cas's dark hair. When Dean gasps for air they lean their foreheads together.
“You’re an idiot.” Cas grins.
“I know.” He nips at Cas’s lips, “You’re better off without me.”
“I never have been.”
Their mouths slot together and breathes mix. Dean gently pulls away throwing his arms over Cas’s shoulders and burying his head into Cas’s neck. “Will you tell me what’s wrong with you and Sam?” Dean grips Cas’s shirt not willing to let go. Ever.