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Dean really fucking hates witches.
And he hates spells.
Nonetheless in his line of duty he’s forced to deal with that kind of thing on a nearly regular basis and he’s got quite good at frying those sons of bitches. But it’s still annoying and disgusting (seriously, all these bodily fluids!) and honestly not his favorite past time.
Especially if there are witches who are throwing fucking truth spells around themselves.
Dean has honestly no clue what that particular witch (a nasty woman with some weirdly blue-green hair color and the habit to curse her ex-lovers) hoped to accomplish in the face of two hunters. Did she think it would be a great idea to hear Dean confess about the one time he sang along to a Britney Spears song while he thrust a knife into her guts?
How should that have helped her?
Well, in the end she missed her target by a mile and hit Sam instead right into the face. Not exactly a miracle since Sam gigantic body filled nearly three-quarter of the small room and the spell couldn’t have gone anywhere else.
Sam just blinked, told the witch that he liked her hair and watched silently how Dean killed her a second later.
And now they’re sitting in the bunker’s library, approximately two hours later, and Sam just can’t stop talking.
He obviously repeats his whole life story, telling Dean about feelings and emotions, and sharing secrets like it’s second nature to him. Dean feels kinda bad about this thing since it doesn’t happen by choice but Sam smiles cheerfully the whole time as if he’s actually relieved to lift this weight from his massive shoulders or whatever.
“ … And then that chick painted my fingernails pink,” Sam continues the tales of his high school years. “Mostly I let it happen because she was hot but that color actually suited me very much. I always thought I should wear it more often.”
Dean snickers amused. “Sounds like a great idea, Samantha.”
Sam just ignores him. “And then I met Stephanie …”
“Okay, wait!” Dean interjects. “I seriously don’t wanna hear anything about your girlfriends or almost girlfriends anymore. I most certainly wouldn’t even be sitting here and listening to your stupid stories if you wouldn’t follow me like a puppy.”
Apparently Sam needs an audience for all his super important secrets and since Castiel disappeared the minute they arrived in the bunker, saying something about “research” in that gravelly voice of his, Sam imprinted on his brother and wouldn’t even let him use the bathroom without making a fuss.
“Fine, I can speak about something else,” Sam offers. “How about my favorite sex position …?”
Dean’s eyes widen immediately. “Oh shit, no!” he yells, staring Sam down with a hard glare. “If you dare to start talking about fucking sex I will beat you unconscious! Do I make myself clear?”
Sam rolls his eyes. “I’ve seen you in more inappropriate positions than I can count. But I just say one freaking word and it’s too much?”
“Just … don’t!” Dean pleads. “Anything else. Talk about … I don’t know.”
“You,” Sam decides determinedly. “I could talk about you.”
Dean grimaces. That’s even worse than the sex talk. “No, Sammy, wait …”
“I never tell you enough that I love you,” Sam blurts out and Dean shuts up instantly. “Because I seriously do. There have been times when I was disappointed in you or even felt betrayed but never once did I stop caring about you. You’re my big brother and that will never change, even when we’re gonna be only ash and dust.
You are smart. A lot smarter than most hunters we met. And it’s actually kinda sad that you can’t acknowledge that. You are brave. Stupidly brave. You really should look out for yourself once in a while. I mean, it got you killed more than enough already.” Sam takes a deep breath. “You are a jerk. Honestly the biggest jerk on earth. And a dick. You’re brash and insensitive at times and just a second later you turn into a nice teddy bear.”
Dean only wants him to stop talking but Sam looks like a truck with faulty breaks. There’s no way in hell he will be silent anytime soon.
“Your eating habits are awful,” Sam continues. “Sometimes I even put some vitamins into your beer because I fear for your health. You really should eat a salad now and then, I wouldn’t tease you for it, I promise you that. I just want you to be okay. And I know you’re used to it all your life but you seriously need to start sleeping more than four or five hours a night. You may think that’s enough but it’s honestly not. Sleep deprivation can turn into a serious health issue, Dean. And on top of that I think you wouldn’t be that grumpy anymore.”
Dean crosses his arms. “I’m not –”
“And the most important thing: you’re super frustrating!” Sam keeps talking, shooting him a dark glare as if he’s seriously offended that Dean has a nerve to interrupt him. “You’re so pigheaded and stubborn and emotionally constipated that I honestly wanted to smack you many times. I mean, that whole thing with Cas …”
Dean stiffens immediately.
No, no, no, don’t talk about Cas. Please don’t!
But as always Sam totally ignores him. “He’s hopelessly in love with you and I know you love him back but for some stupid-ass reason you don’t act on it. What do you think will happen? That the earth stops moving or something?”
Dean’s heart starts to squeeze uncomfortably in his chest. “Sammy …”
“You think you don’t deserve to be happy, is that it?” Sam wants to know. “You believe you’re cursed and everything you touch will die rather sooner than later. Well, guess what? Cas did die multiple times already and he’s still here, with us, with you. He defied everything so far. And he will stand by your side till the end of time, whatever may happen between you.”
These words hurt more than Dean anticipated. He can’t keep himself from grimacing as if he’s suffering some serious pain.
“Sammy, I’m not …”
“What, you’re not in love with him?” Sam snorts. “Oh please, all of Heaven and Hell knows about you two. Do you even realize how you look at him? How he looks at you? How fucking long you look at each other all the fucking time? And don’t let me start on the fact that you stopped womanizing ages ago or that you keep saying that guy’s name in your sleep sometimes or that you’re happier and more smiley when Cas is with us or –”
“I think I found information about the spell.”
Castiel’s voice is like a bucket of ice water right into the face. Dean’s eyes widen mortified, his heartbeat racing like hell, and even Sam looks a little bit shocked as if despite all this he didn’t want the angel to overhear them.
“You … you did?” Dean’s voice sounds croaky and pathetic but fortunately Castiel doesn’t seem to notice. He looks totally unfazed while watching the brothers.
“It won’t harm you, Sam,” Castiel reassures. “It will wear off in a few hours.”
Dean starts to squirm. Hours? That’s a lot of time for Sam to spill some more secrets.
Sam doesn’t seem that happy either. “So I will keep talking for hours? I don’t know if that’s a great idea. I’m literally two seconds away from telling my most embarrassing stories – one of them involving a werewolf and a banana – and I don’t know …”
Suddenly Castiel is standing right beside the younger Winchester and squeezes his shoulder lightly. “How about I help you sleep until the spell wears off?”
Sam blinks a few times. “Um … yeah, I think that’d be good.”
Castiel smiles slightly before he pushes two fingers gently onto Sam’s forehead and lets his magic flow. “Go to bed,” the angel says. “You will be asleep the moment you’ll close your eyes.”
Sam looks like he would have no problem whatsoever to take a nap in the uncomfortable chair but Dean forces him to stand up and leads him to his bedroom. “Thanks, Dean,” Sam mumbles when he falls onto his bed with no grace, his long limps flying everywhere. “And think about what I said. You deserve to be happy. Both of you.”
“Sam …”
“And for the record: I tripped over a banana on the floor – how cliché is that?” He snorts into his pillow. “I knocked the werewolf in front of me out in the process. And sadly that’s not even the embarrassing part of the story. I … I …”
And then he’s dead to the world.
Dean watches him a while silently, trying to process the last five minutes (and trying to erase the image of Sam crushing a poor werewolf with his body).
It’s one thing to feel these different and strong emotions all by himself, wondering what would happen if he’d let his guard down, just for a minute, but to hear it … it makes it more real. It’s not some dream, not some fantasy but an actual, very powerful thing.
And Dean wonders if he’d be able to go back after hearing Sam’s words.
If he wants to go back.
He finds Castiel back in the library, sipping at Dean’s beer like it’s the most normal thing. And maybe it is and Dean never really noticed before. Or at least didn’t let himself notice.
“He’ll be alright?” Dean asks, getting closer to the angel as if it’s second nature.
“He will be fine,” Castiel promises with a reassuring smile. “Probably embarrassed for sharing secrets he wouldn’t have brought to light otherwise but absolutely healthy.”
Dean chuckles. “Yeah. That story about him fangirling over the smurfs is great blackmail material.”
Castiel stays silent, just watching him with an intense look (and God, had his stare always been that consuming?) and not moving a muscle. Dean feels uncomfortably stripped bare in a matter of seconds and he clears his throat, desperate to hide the slight blush he’s more than certain is visible on his face.
“Uh … I’m beat too,” he says and it’s not even a lie. He’s quite exhausted although he doubts he will manage to fall asleep anytime soon. There is way too much going on in his head. “I’ll hit the hay.”
But before he’s able to leave the library and Castiel behind, the angel asks, “Dean?”
The hunter stops his movements, turning around. “Yeah, Cas?”
“Is Sam right?”
Dean frowns. “About what?”
“That you don’t think you deserve to be happy?”
Dean feels his stomach drop. Of course it’s actually no surprise that Castiel heard that (Sam had been rather loud in vocalizing his frustration) but Dean hoped against all odds that the angel missed everything or at least pretends to be utterly clueless.
“You heard that, huh?”
Castiel rolls his eyes. “You seem to forget that I’m a celestial being. Of course I heard that. I could listen to a conversation in Paris right now without leaving this room.”
Dean lifts his eyebrows. “Really? How does that –?”
“It’s not of important right now!” Castiel interjects. “You’re trying to deflect, Dean, and I don’t appreciate it.”
Dean ducks his head. “Yeah, sorry.”
Castiel folds his arms in front of his chest, looking at Dean expectantly like a mother demanding the truth of her dishonest child. “So?”
Dean starts to fidget but despite that he gravitates closer to the angel again, he just can’t help it. “What do you want me to say?”
Castiel scoffs. “The truth.”
Dean takes a deep breath. He’s sure as hell still able to deny everything since it had been Sam saying all these things, not Dean. He can tell the angel his brother believed to see something that’s not there. That Sam had it all wrong.
And they could continue with their lives like they used to.
But Sam pulled all this crap out in the open and Dean can’t shove it back anymore. He just can’t.
“Listen, Cas, I’m not good with this shit, okay?” he says, sighing. “I can’t talk about my feelings, it’s just not me. But yeah, Sam had a point. I dragged so many people down with me.” He avoids Castiel’s gaze. “I don’t … I don’t want you to be one of them.”
Castiel takes a step towards Dean, so close they’re only a few inches apart. Dean feels Castiel breath ghosting over his skin and it makes him shiver.
“I am in the middle of this for years now, Dean,” Castiel counters. “It wouldn’t make any difference.”
But Dean shakes his head. “It would,” he tells him with determination. “I can’t really explain why because again, not good with words, but …”
Castiel sighs. “Sam is right. You are super frustrating.”
Dean stares at him for a minute before he starts to laugh since it sounds so fucking ridiculous coming out of the angel’s mouth. But Castiel doesn’t seem to approve of Dean’s behavior.
“I told you all these years ago that you deserve to be saved,” the angel reminds him. “And you deserve to be happy too. So stop trying to convince yourself otherwise and let me kiss you.”
Dean blinks a few times, wondering if he misheard Castiel. “Um … what?”
Castiel doesn’t waste time with an answer. He just looks at the man in front of him intensely, maybe searching for some kind of permission in Dean’s eyes, and then he leans in. The first press of his lips feels kinda surreal and Dean actually needs to keep himself from pinching his skin to make sure that this is not a dream. But just a second later he just fucking melts and stops thinking altogether.
It’s warm and soft and safe like it’s never been before. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and pulls him closer until there’s no space between them. No part of their bodies that isn’t touching the other somehow.
And it’s freaking glorious and Dean doesn’t want it to end. Ever.
Why the hell did he wait so long for this?
Eventually Castiel pulls away a little bit and Dean does not whine because of that.
“You should go to bed,” Castiel whispers, his voice gentle. “I can help you sleep as well.”
Dean smiles slightly. “Are you gonna stay?”
“Of course, Dean.”
And Dean’s not sure if he means he will stay for the night or for all eternity but he doesn’t ask. He’s quite sure that he knows the answer anyway.
“And Sam is right about a lot of things as well,” Castiel says when he takes Dean’s hand in his and pulls him toward the hunter’s bedroom. “You seriously need to sleep more and eat healthier.”
Dean rolls his eyes, fondly. “You two want me to live forever, huh?”
Castiel frowns confused and looks like he wants to start some kind of monologue about lifespans and how it’s impossible for human beings to live forever but Dean just kisses him, right in the hallway. And how awesome is it that he’s allowed to do that now?
He continues to smile when he lies in his bed with an angel in his arms who lists several healthy food Dean should eat until he falls asleep and dreams about soft kisses, pink fingernails and werewolves crushed by bananas.