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Castiel barely manages to miss the rogue hovercraft zipping just above his head. The heat nearly singes his hair as he ducks down in fear and instinct. Annoyed, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, the camera in his goggles catching the serial number and running it through his database, before it pings with a familiar sound.
Oh.
“Ugh, Dean!” he yells, tugging the mask down his mouth to tuck it under his chin.
“Sorry, Cas! Didn’t know you were down there,” Dean replies, sounding not even the least bit sorry. His best friend tugs his own mask down and smiles a toothy grin as he angles his body to the right, turning the hovercraft around. His brown leather jacket flaps in the wind, fingerless gloves wrapped loosely around the handlebars of his beloved vehicle. Pocket-lined pant legs straddle the sides of the vehicle, black leather boots peeking out. Goggles are set on his short-cropped light brown hair, the green glass matching his equally vibrant green eyes.
Castiel clamps down the careful flutter of his heart. His silly crush is just that: a crush, made by proximity and time spent together. He doesn’t have many friends, and so his heart latched onto the only thing that made sense in this ever-changing city: Dean Winchester.
Instead, he rubs his hair, which still holds a hint of heat, and glares at Dean until he turns off the hovercraft properly and dismounts. “If I go bald because of you, I’m sending you my enhancement bill.”
“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that,” Dean teases, boots clanging on the grates as he strides towards Castiel. “I barely grazed you.”
Look. Maybe Castiel is being a little dramatic, considering he can’t even drive and Dean has always been so gracious, never accepting a single form of payment to basically be his chauffeur. Not that Castiel gets out much, only when Dean invites (read: forces) him to go out. Otherwise, Castiel takes public transit, which Dean abhors. He prefers to gunk up the atmosphere with the amount of pollution his ‘vintage’ hovercraft produces.
“Is there a reason you’re harassing me?” Castiel grumbles, mourning the loss of a quiet afternoon tucking himself among the pipes and grates to read his latest novel.
“Can’t I just see my bestie?” Dean mock-pouts. When Castiel doesn’t budge, crossing his arms expectantly, Dean’s eyes glitter with something akin to mischief. “I wanna show you something,” he says.
Castiel perks up with intrigue, arms loosening.
“A physical something?”
He hopes it’s something from the past; a trinket or a time capsule or something. Evidence of their ancestors was so few and far in between now, everything still left in the earth mined and processed to create fuel, no matter what significance it had. The past would be left in the past, his teachers had told him, only the future remains.
Well, the future looks bleak, he wished he had said then.
Dean’s grin grows wider, which Castiel didn’t think was possible, and it dissipates whatever disappointment was beginning to rise. “Better. Hop on.”
—
If Castiel’s heart were to beat any harder, he’s sure Dean would feel it, pressed against his back, his arms wrapped around Dean’s middle, like they’ve done so many times before. It never gets easier for him. At least Dean can’t see the redness creeping up his cheeks. That’s what the mask is for, too.
Still, the view of the city in all its pomp and circumstance is nearly and literally breathtaking; smoke billowing out of buildings, steam hissing from below, the very sound of the city echoing with engines and machinery. Virtual billboards flicker from overuse, siphoning energy from everywhere, greedy and unyielding, the sky glowing with neon. High enough in the sky, it seems like an entirely new world from the bird’s eye view.
Dean’s hovercraft had been tinkered with so many upgrades, it felt like an entirely different vehicle altogether. Its speed was faster than racers, and its engine thrusters could lift it as high as planes, soaring over skyscrapers like something mythical and… well, futuristic. Castiel would never tire of the swoop in his stomach with every curve.
Being with Dean was like tasting freedom for the first time, every time. Like Castiel could do anything he wanted. Well, everything except for kissing him senseless, which he won’t do. That’s a line Castiel will never cross. But it’s nice to dream.
Before long, the hovercraft begins to slow, now nudging the city borders, revealing the deserted wasteland he tries so desperately to ignore. That dry, harsh climate driven to desolation by overconsumption and resource ravaging. In such a technologically advancing world, real nature was hardly found outside of city walls. Only dedicated greenhouses and those rich enough to keep plants alive in their homes where the lack of sunlight wouldn’t make them wilt. Agricultural towns were few and far in between, like mini oases, but were wholly necessary for human survival.
Dean drives them out across the dry lands, urging the hovercraft faster, zipping over the landscape with ease. There are a few moments when Dean slows, though, flicking his wrist to check the holographic map on his wrist. Castiel can’t even see the map over Dean’s broad shoulders, wide enough for him to tuck his chin on if he so wanted.
He does want, that is. But he won’t do it.
Then Dean makes an approving sound, and speeds up once more, jolting Castiel forward into Dean’s warm back. Castiel’s arms twitch with the urge to squeeze in tighter, and he curses his heart for its yearning. Tamping it down, Castiel attempts to just enjoy the ride until Dean’s hovercraft eventually slows to a crawl, and he knows they’ve made it.
The view is breathtaking, even through the blue tint of his goggles. In front of him lies a mountain range as far as the eye can see, with glittering waters, lush green coniferous trees, and mountains looking straight out of paintings in a museum. Castiel never thought he’d be able to see it, unable to tear his gaze away from what must be a hallucination.
“It’s nice, right?” Dean asks, and Castiel didn’t even notice him taking off his mask and goggles, pulling into what looks like an oversized pathway people used to take before they refuged to the metal cities for a ‘better’ life. There are still remnants of footprints left in the ground, but most are now covered by animal tracks and local flora. “Found it a couple years ago. It’s one of my favourite places to go when I need a getaway from all the…” he waves his hand in an unclear gesture.
“Technology? Metal? The ever-present sound of machinery?” Castiel quirks, taking his mask and goggles off fully. He blinks quickly at the onslaught of bright blue skies and the shining sun.
“Yeah, that,” he confirms, slowing the vehicle to a stop, cutting the engine. “I just wish it was more accessible. Takes me nearly a whole charge to get here and back.”
Castiel takes that as his queue to dismount, reluctantly unlatching his arms from Dean’s middle and placing his things in the satchel hooked on the back. His boots crunch on gravel (gravel!) and dirt (dirt!!) and he nearly crouches down to touch it to see if it’s real. Dean laughs at Castiel’s expression and dismounts, leading the way down the path. Castiel can only follow, driven by awe and his silly little crush. His hands outstretch to touch every tree, every plant, every branch that he can reach.
He’s so distracted by all the nature around him that he doesn’t notice Dean’s stopped and bumps face-first into Dean’s back.
“Careful, Cas!” Dean chortles, turning back to grip his shoulders and push him in front. “Don’t want you to get hurt before the grand finale.”
“There’s a grand finale?” He didn’t think that there could be more to this than what Dean’s already shown him so far.
“Of course there is. It’s not far, just another half mile.”
That half mile doesn’t take long with how enraptured Castiel is. Everything is so green, so vibrant, he wants to stare at it for as long as possible. And now, his stupid brain supplies, you have a new reference for Dean’s eyes.
He urges his brain to shut up for just a moment while he soaks up this time with Dean as much as he can. However, it needn’t have been necessary, as the sight he comes upon silences his thoughts outright.
A roaring waterfall, the sound almost foreign, rolls gracefully into the river below. They’re high up enough to see where it flows, all the way to a pond… or is it a brook? Castiel can’t tell; this is his first time seeing something like this in person. He doesn’t even care about the correct terminology at this point.
Dean’s hand feels like a brand on his shoulder, urging him to face his best friend.
“So, whaddaya think?” Dean asks in that endearing drawl of his.
“Dean, this is… I have no words.”
“In a good way or a bad way?” Despite his grin, Dean’s bright eyes go dim.
“In the best way,” Castiel breathes, his heart doing a little dance when Dean’s happiness returns. “How did you find this?”
“Sammy and I found it when we ran away that first time. We just… kept driving till we got here and, well, we just like to come back.” Dean shrugs. “It’s peaceful. Plus, Sam likes to bring Eileen up here and I thought… why not bring you here, too?”
Warmth blooms in Castiel’s chest. “I feel really grateful that you brought me here.”
“Of course,” Dean says. “It’s not every day you ask someone to be your boyfriend.”
Hold on.
“What?” Castiel balks.
Dean suddenly looks like a glitching billboard. “Please tell me you knew we were courting this whole time,” he says, his voice taking on that nervous tone.
“We were what?”
“Dude, seriously?” Dean laughs, almost hysterical. “All those restaurants, the random gifts, the damn— I don’t let just anyone ride on my hovercraft, you know.”
Castiel feels so stupid. He crosses his arms, stuffing his hands under his armpits so he doesn’t punch himself in the face. “We never even kissed or held hands…” he admits. “Why didn’t you…?”
“I was waiting for you!” Dean protests. “But if I had known you didn’t even know I was trying to like, date you, I would have done more.”
“Oh gods, I’m such an idiot,” Castiel groans, deciding now to palm his face with both hands.
“Hey, no you’re not,” Dean says gently, delicately grabbing both of Castiel’s wrists and pulling his arms down. He doesn’t let go, instead rubbing his thumb soothingly on his skin. “You know I’m no good at words so if anyone’s the idiot, it’s me.”
But Castiel isn’t listening. “You arranged this beautiful trip and all I’ve been thinking about was how insane I was for wanting to kiss you the whole time.”
“Well if you’re insane, then so am I,” he teases, and it’s easing the growing tension in Castiel’s stomach. “Cause I wanna kiss you too.”
And he’s close. So close. Castiel can feel himself trembling so he closes his eyes, and that’s when he feels the gentle brush of another’s lips against his. Dean is… kissing him. Dean is kissing him! It feels like every dream he’s ever had has come true, and he urges himself to return the favour, deepening the kiss and sliding his hands over Dean’s waist.
When they pull apart, his lips tingle, and he can feel his muscles curving into a shy smile. Dean mirrors him, his pretty teeth peeking out from his top lip.
“How was that?” he asks.
“Great,” says Castiel, breathless. “Can we do it again?” And Dean nods and they’re suddenly kissing again, just as good as the first, if not better. They seem to respond quickly to each other’s kissing style, which is making Castiel giggle just thinking about it.
“What?” Dean asks against his lips.
Castiel shakes his head. “Nothing,” he murmurs, and kisses Dean with more fervour.
By the time they reluctantly pull apart, Castiel’s lips feel tingly and bruised and Dean looks equally affected, if the wide grin he’s sporting is anything to go by.
“So… be my boyfriend?” Dean asks.
“As if that’s even a question anymore,” says Castiel, but at Dean’s expectant look, he softens. “Of course I will.”
Dean’s smile is blinding, and Castiel has never felt happier.