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It was the happiest Dean had been in a long time. Despite the dark, swirling storm looming on the horizon; the mark burning on his arm… he was truly at peace, if only for the night. Everyone that mattered to him; everyone he loved was right there with him, smiling, laughing… feeling free. When looking back on that night, Dean would always remember it as the one point in time he would always want to go back to. It would always be that warm, happy memory he clung to in times of darkness and despair.
Long after Charlie had passed out on the sofa in the lounge and Sam had wandered off to his Sasquatch cave, Dean finished straightening up the kitchen to his liking and looked around to admire his handy work. With a nod, he flicked off the lights and headed down the hall to his bedroom. Startled, he stopped just beside the door when he saw Castiel standing in the open doorway, his gaze fixed on Dean’s bed. Clearing his throat, Dean approached slowly. “Cas?” He arched a brow, examining the angel carefully. “You alright, buddy?"
Castiel's gaze was unwavering. "I'm fine, Dean. Thank you."
Pursing his lips, Dean's brow furrowed. "You don't look fine. What's up?"
"I never had a home," Castiel replied abruptly.
"What?"
Finally, Cas turned to look at Dean, his vibrant blue eyes searching Dean's face. "A home. A bed. It's such a human comfort. Even when I was human, I never experienced that..."
Dean's eyes fell as he inhaled shakily. He would never forgive himself for what he had done to Castiel. For abandoning him like that. For forcing him to be well and truly alone, out in the world. "Cas, I--"
"Please don't apologize again, Dean." He reached out, laying a comforting hand on the hunter's shoulder. "You did what you felt you needed. And I didn't tell you my thoughts to make you feel guilty. I only meant..." He sighed, looking away to gather his thoughts before turning back to Dean. "I'm happy to be here now. With Sam, with Charlie, who has proclaimed me her new best friend." The hint of a smile graced his lips.
"What about me?" Dean's voice was shaky; full of gravel.
Castiel's face softened. "Most of all with you."
Dean’s watery eyes searched Castiel’s, his mouth slightly agape as he bounced his hand nervously against his leg. “Cas, I gotta be honest with you, man,” he began, clearing his throat as he forced himself to look away, unable to maintain the intense eye contact.
Cas took a step closer to Dean, his grip on Dean’s shoulder never loosening. “Dean,” he began. He licked his lips, an act Dean couldn’t drag his attention away from. They had been in close proximity with one another numerous times over the years, but this felt so much more intimate. Dean wasn’t pushing him away; wasn’t lecturing him on personal space. It felt as if Dean was inviting him in; wanting him to be close.
“Cas, I...” Dean repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, swallowing the lump in his throat as Castiel leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, surprisingly sweet kiss, Castiel’s hand sliding from Dean’s shoulder to cradle his neck, his thumb brushing the stubble on Dean’s jaw.
When they parted, their eyes locked on one another, Dean’s heart hammering against his chest. Tears stung his eyes as he swallowed, processing what had just transpired. Slowly, tentatively, he reached up, brushing his fingers over Castiel’s stubbled cheek. He had never done this before -- not with someone of the male persuasion, anyway. This was new and uncharted territory for him, but yet… something about it - no, everything about it - seemed so very right. It was Cas. Castiel. His angel. The one who had rescued him from Hell. The one who had fought by his side. The one who had given up everything and more, for him. The one whose loyalty and love was unwavering, no matter how hard Dean tried to push him away.
Reaching up to grip Castiel’s face, Dean pulled him in for another kiss, this one more passionate and desperate than the previous. He pushed Cas back against the door frame before guiding him into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. “Stay, Cas,” he whispered, his voice dripping with emotion and desperation as he broke the kiss, his forehead against the angel’s. “You have a home. Here. With us. With me.” He opened his eyes and pulled back ever-so-slightly to look into those beautiful, expressive pools of blue. “Stay.”
Castiel smiled, his hands coming to rest on Dean’s wrists. “I’ll always come when you call, Dean. And I’ll always stay when you ask.” Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead to Dean’s once again. “Always.”