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I. The first time he almost says it, they're sitting in the library with his mom. There's a possible case in Indiana they're checking out, and they've been hauled up inside all day, leafing through book after book. He's tired and grouchy; research has never been his thing, especially eight frickin' hours straight of the stuff. And of course, he can't stop looking over at Cas, with his adorable, mussed-up hair and three day stubble. It's still crazy to believe he actually managed to make things right with the angel, after all the crap they've been through over the years. Turns out, kissing him senseless in a grubby old witch's shack was the best thing he ever could have done. Nine months later, and they're still going strong.
Cas catches his eye from across the table and smiles, albeit tiredly, and Dean swears his heart is about to explode. He always wondered what love would feel like; being with Lisa was comfortable, ideal, but being with Cas is like breathing fire, or dancing in the rain. He can't explain how everything seems infinitely better whenever Cas walks into the room, or how just watching him step out of the shower in the morning makes his breath catch in his throat. He can't explain a lot of things about Cas, but that's just another thing he loves about him. And, yeah, he really does love him. He's known that for a while now, ever since things finally settled down again, and they started acting like a family. I guess it's true what they say; when you know, you just know, and realizing he'd fallen in love with the angel was like having a weight lifted from his shoulders. Just being able to put a name to whatever the hell he felt for Cas was such a relief, and still is.
"Stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and keep working," Mary says with a smirk, "You can do that in your own time."
Cas gives him one last smile and turns away, "Sorry, Mrs. Winchester."
It's so typically Cas, apologizing for no particular reason, that he can't help but laugh. He squeezes Cas' hand, pressing his lips against the slightly bruised skin of his knuckles, and the words almost come out, just like that. He has to cover it up with an exaggerated cough (and of course Cas offers to fetch him a glass of water). It seems so natural to say it, even in front of his mom, but he just can't. Saying it out loud will make it official; it's like giving the universe permission to screw everything up all over again. He can't risk that, not with something so frickin' amazing. He just can't do it.
So instead, he laughs it off and goes to grab some more beer, pointedly ignoring the knowing wink his mom gives him on the way out.
II. The second time is almost a disaster, saved only by his dashing good looks, of course. It's just him and Cas; they're sat in their room (they started sharing pretty much straight away), casually watching some Netflix before going to sleep. He knows he should probably try and get some shut eye; they've got an early start tomorrow, driving halfway across the frickin' country to work a standard salt & burn case. But he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous lump of an angel sprawled out across his stomach.
"C'mon, Cas," He says, trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips, "I gotta sleep, man."
"Go right ahead."
"You say that like it's easy," He rolls his eyes, "You're kinda crushing me, ya know?"
Cas reaches forward to mute the TV, turning over so his back is pressed up against Dean's stomach. He smiles up at him, all soft and secretive. He could easily lose himself in those eyes, but he needs to sleep, goddamit! I mean, we can't all be blessed with the magical ability to stay up all night.
"Don't," He says with a warning wag of his finger, "Hey, stop that."
"I'm not doing anything, Dean."
"Oh, you know what you're doing, alright! You're trying to keep me up with your... insane hotness, aren't ya?"
Cas fights back a laugh and flips himself over again, stubbled cheeks scratching against Dean's skin. It feels weirdly good; he could almost fall asleep to it, if it weren't for the wet press of lips trailing up his stomach. Cas has this crazy obsession with his pudgy belly (or his 'dad-bod', as Claire calls it). He has no idea what the appeal is, but Cas could quite happily sit there, kissing the cushioned flesh of his stomach, for hours upon end. In a way, it's pretty adorable, but he doesn't have time for adorable! Not at two in the morning, at least.
"Ah, Cas, babe... C'mon, stop it..."
"Stop what?"
"Stop attacking me," He whines, trying to push him off half-heartedly.
Cas blinks up at him, all big eyes and feigned innocence, "Don't you like that, Dean?"
"You know I do, asshole."
"Then what would be the sense in stopping?"
He grunts in frustration, but doesn't try to stop the angel from carrying on. It's kinda nice, to be fair. Cas keeps nosing at his stomach, planting gentle kisses all over his body, and he can feel his eyelids starting to flutter closed... But then Cas slips a little further down, to the sensitive part just above his you-know-what, and blows a frickin' raspberry. Not that he probably knows what it means to blow a raspberry, but oh well. The tickling sensation is enough to make him jump off the bed, shoving at Cas to try and make him stop through uncontrollable fits of laughter.
"Cas! Fuck, Cas! Stop! Stop it!" He cries.
Cas looks up at him with a hint of a smile and tilts his head, "My apologies, Dean. Would you like me to stop?"
Before the angel can get too cocky, he scoops him up into his arms, swapping their positions so Cas is below him, full-blown grin creeping onto his face. Seeing Cas smile so openly is still a novelty to him, and it never fails to stop his heart for just a second.
"Motherfucker," He laughs... until he notices the genuine confusion on Cas' face, "Not literally, you idiot."
He shakes his head fondly, bending down to kiss the top of Cas' nose (because he's a big sap like that). Cas leans into the kiss like a cat, nuzzling into his chest with a contented sigh. He rolls over next to him, and they fall into place effortlessly - Cas's arm draped over his chest, their cheeks rubbing together - and it's then that the words almost come out again.
"Cas, I -" He stops himself, grip tightening around Cas' waist.
"What?" Cas lifts his head and frowns, "Dean, what is it? What's wrong?"
He doesn't know what to say, how to cover up the obvious, but he knows what he can do. Despite being a stone-faced warrior of God half of the time, Cas does have one weakness he likes to use to his advantage.
"I don't wanna sleep," He whispers, swallowing thickly as he slides a hand down the front of Cas' boxers, "Guess I'm not too tired, after all..."
Luckily, Cas doesn't protest much further after that.
III. The third time is so close, he's surprised Cas doesn't catch on. He's hanging out in the garage with Sammy, swapping stories over Baby's hood while he gives her a good clean, and everything is perfect. The sun is shining, he's talking to his baby brother, and no one he cares about has died in a really long time, which - wow... Their lives really are depressing, aren't they?
"Hey, how are things going, by the way?" Sam asks out of the blue, "Ya know, with you a Cas?"
He shrugs the question off, trying to keep down the blush itching at the collar of his shirt; as if Sam doesn't have enough ammunition to use against him.
"Aw, c'mon. I'm serious, Dean. I wanna know."
"It's fine," He says shortly, "We're fine, I mean. It's all good."
"Yeah?"
"Seriously. We're great."
Sam grins a dopey grin and slaps him on the shoulder (ya know, like men do and stuff), "I'm glad, Dean. I really am."
He can't help but smile back, even if he's burning with embarrassment. He hates discussing his and Cas' relationship with people, not when he's unsure of where they actually stand together. I mean, they're not exactly the most conventional couple, are they? Maybe Cas isn't as serious about them as Dean is. Not that he could blame the guy.
"There you are," They both turn their heads to see Cas heading towards them, plate of deliciously-smelling something in his hands, "I brought you some pie."
Sam gives him a wide-eyed look, as if Cas has just brought him the frickin' crown jewels or something. Though he must admit, his heart is thumping pretty quickly in his chest as he lets it all sink in; judging by the flour-smeared apron hanging loosely from his upper half, Cas didn't just bring him pie. He made him pie. And if that isn't simultaneously the most adorable and arousing thing in the whole frickin' world, then he doesn't know what is.
"Wow," He breathes, a little lost for words, "Cas, babe... You - You didn't have to do that."
Cas shrugs, "I wanted to. There's a distinct difference."
He watches in bewildered awe as Cas slices the pie (his cuts are a little wonky, but who the hell really cares?) and hands a piece over to Sam. He looks so proud of himself, beaming with genuine pride as Sam moans around the mouthful and gives him a thumbs up.
"Geez... D'you put salad in it or something?" He jokes, but even to him it sounds a little flat.
Sam rolls his eyes, "I do eat other stuff, ya know?"
"Yeah, right. Just admit you're some weird, rabbit-human hybrid," He places a hand over his heart and wipes away an imaginary tear, "We'll except you no matter what, Sammy."
Cas looks Sam up and down for a second, as if he's actually convinced, before shaking off the idea and turning back to Dean, "Mary helped me make it, actually. I wanted to do something nice for you. Do you... like it?"
His heart clenches at the hesitant tone of his voice, and he reaches for the angel instinctively. His trenchcoat smells faintly of cherries and vanilla; it's frickin' adorable, and pretty sexy. He buries his face in Cas' shoulder and smiles, chuckling against his skin while Sam stands there, watching them awkwardly.
"I love it," He says when he pulls away, "I love you - your, I mean... your, um... Your skills in the kitchen, they're just... Wow, ya know? I didn't expect you to, uh... pull off a decent pie like this and I -"
His nervous babbling is interrupted by Sam spilling his guts onto the floor (and partially over his Baby, goddamit). Cas barely manages to shut his gaping mouth and look away long enough to even notice what's going on, but by then, it's too late. Sam is clutching his stomach and groaning dramatically, triangle of pie still clinging to his fork.
Dean tries to gloss over the past ten seconds and carefully pushes the pie away, huffing a laugh, "Okay, uh... Maybe semi-decent?"
Cas looks at him helplessly, blue eyes shining with concern and frustration. Needless to say, they don't mention his awkward slip-up for the rest of the night.
IV. The fourth time happens on Christmas day. Everyone's sat in the library (and by everyone, he means the four of them, plus Donna, Jody, and the girls). They've made the place as 'Christmassy' as possible; Cas and Sam set up the tree a couple of nights ago, and Jody and his mom have made an awesome dinner for everyone. They're even wearing the stupid paper hats you get in the crackers, for Christ's sake.
"I wonder what your dad gets up to on Christmas," Claire says to Cas, popping another forkful of mash potato into her mouth, "I mean, he is God 'n all..."
Cas shrugs the question off, and Dean can tell he feels uncomfortable talking about his dad. They didn't exactly get the chance to make amends when he came back, and he still feels pretty bitter about the whole thing.
"Who cares?" Dean says with a shrug, "This turkey is frickin' awesome."
Everyone hums in agreement, and Cas squeezes his hand gratefully beneath the table. He can't help but notice how the blue hat sitting awkwardly on top of his head makes his eyes pop. He's wearing one of those awful, scratchy jumpers covered in tiny snowmen. It's about two sizes too big, as well, so the poor guy's practically swimming in it.
"I'd say it's about time for presents, right?" Donna says with a grin once they've all finished their food.
Mary smiles, "Ah, well... If you'll all follow me over to the tree..."
They gather around the scraggly thing (hunting don't exactly pay the big dollars, okay?), and Sam is the first to spot a carefully wrapped parcel with his name on it. He claps his hands together, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a big kid, and lunges for it.
"This one's mine!" He cries.
Dean recognizes the silver wrapping paper; this one's from Cas. He glances over at the angel, who gives him a nervous smile, and slips their fingers together.
Sam's eyes light up like the frickin' Christmas tree once he's torn the last of it away. As far as he can see, it's a bunch of dusty old books, but the grin on his dorky brother's face is enough to make him smile. He tugs Cas a little closer, letting him fall against his side, and watches with a sense of complete and utter contentment. He's never felt so calm before; it's weird as hell, but also pretty amazing.
"Cas, man," Sam looks up at him with a watery smile, "This is great."
He pulls the angel into a bone-crushing hug. Dean can't help but laugh at the way Cas awkwardly pats Sam's back, like he doesn't know what else to do; it's as if he gets more adorably oblivious by the day.
The moment is quickly over once everyone else starts diving in to find their own gifts, but Dean hangs back, tugging Cas over to the side. He drapes his arm around him, kissing the top of his head with a smile, and watches the chaos ensue. It's strange how domestic this all feels; Cas could be his frickin' husband, and no one would even question it. The thought makes his stomach drop.
"Hey. D'you get me anything?" He pokes Cas playfully.
"You'll have to be patient and see, won't you?"
He chuckles, tilting Cas' face upwards to bring their lips together. It's a soft, personal kind of kiss; it speaks words, and all that sappy crap. He doesn't know how else to tell Cas how grateful he is, how proud... This past year has been awesome, all because of the dorky little angel nuzzling into his shoulder.
"You're gorgeous, you know that?"
Cas blinks up at him, confused; he never says cheesy stuff like that. It always makes him feel strange and uncomfortable. But this time, he means it. He really is gorgeous.
"Dean?"
"I just want you to know," He swallows thickly, "How much you mean to me and everything..."
Cas narrows his eyes, smiling slightly, "Thank you, Dean."
He shakes his head in frustration, grabbing both of Cas' hands; it isn't enough, "No, I mean it, Cas. I just... I really..."
"Dean, what is it?"
The words are dancing on the end of his tongue, so close to just slipping out and changing everything. He could let them go, risk it all and hope that Cas feels the same way... But then he looks into his eyes - really looks into them - and sees all the good stuff they've managed to achieve over the years. He can't just throw that all away on a whim; he has to be certain, or else he might scare him off.
"Nothing," He says, forcing a laugh, "I'm just, uh... really looking forward to my present."
Cas tilts his head, expression skeptical, but doesn't push it any further. He's good like that; he understands him in a way that no one else does - not even Sammy. His brother knows him better than anyone, but Cas understands him, can read him like a book. It's terrifying. But then again, what the hell isn't terrifying about being in love with an angel?
V. The fifth time, he actually says it, but Cas doesn't hear him. It's super early in the morning; Sam's working a case with Eileen, and his mom's on some kind of break (she's still pretty against the whole hunting thing), so it's just him and Cas in the bunker.
He's busy making a fresh pot of coffee to wake him up when he hears it. At first, he thinks he's imagining things, but then it only gets louder and louder until he realizes that, yeah, Cas is frickin' singing. He doesn't even think, just shoves the coffee back on the counter and sneaks down the corridor, careful not to make too much noise; he doesn't want Cas to stop singing because of him.
It's coming from the bathroom. Cas is taking a shower (it's one of the few 'human' things he still likes to do). Dean can smell coconut shampoo wafting from the under the door, filling his nostrils with the sweet, sickly smell. It reminds him of his mom, and he wonders for a moment if Cas has been borrowing Mary's shampoo. For some reason, the thought makes him smile; families share everything, and it's nice to know that Cas has officially been accepted as part of the Winchester clan.
He pushes the door open, wincing at the low creak of the hinges. Cas doesn't seem to notice though, and carries on singing. A cloud of steam is covering the room, hiding him from view, but he can still make out the outline of Cas' body under the shower head.
"Believe or not, I'm walking on air. I never thought I could feel so free-ee-ee!"
His voice is low and fragile, breaking on the higher parts of the song, but Dean can't help but find it frickin' adorable. Everything about Cas is adorable, goddamit!
"Flying away on a wing and a prayer, who could it be? Believe it or not, it's just me. Believe or not, it's just me..."
He's practically leaning against the shower curtain by this point, desperate to reach forward and wrap his arms around Cas' naked body, hungry for the slide of wet skin... But he stops himself from pulling back the curtain at the last moment, clenching his fists by his sides. He's not gonna lie; he's kinda turned on. But something tells him this is one of those rare moments, the kind you need to cherish forever. Cas is usually on super high alert, angel mojo always keeping him on his toes, but not right now. No, for once, he's in a different place. He's calm and free, lost in his own thoughts. He hasn't even noticed him, which is nuts; he always notices him! What kind of dick would he be if he took this one moment of alone time away from Cas? Cas, who never gets a frickin' break. Cas, who always commits his time and strength to protecting his family. Cas, who makes his crazy-ass life seem just a little less insane with every kiss, every touch...
"Fuck," He whispers, taking a step back from the curtain, "I really do love you, don't I?"
It's the first time he's said that, even to himself. He almost feels guilty at first, but then relief washes over him. It feels good to admit it out loud; it gives him hope that maybe, one day, he'll have the guts to actually say it to Cas' face.
VI. Almost three years after their first kiss, he finally says it. They're driving back from a case in Sioux Falls, caked in dry blood and monster guts, but he still thinks Cas looks kinda beautiful. So what if that makes him uber- gay; he is dating another guy, for Christ's sake (even if Cas technically isn't anything, which weirdly turns him on sometimes...). He doesn't really care about any of that anymore. Most people would kill to find the kind of love he's got, so why the hell would he wanna hide it or feel ashamed? Nah. He's a different person now. He's done with running from everything out of fear, or guilt.
"You cold?" He asks Cas softly, reaching for his hand.
Cas gives him a bemused little smile. Of course he's not cold; he's an angel of the frickin' Lord. But this is something they like to do, to make them feel like a 'normal' couple now and again.
"A little," Cas says, so Dean starts brushing his thumb over his knuckles to warm him up.
They've only been driving for a few hours, but Cas doesn't like it when he pushes himself too much, so they pull over for the night. There's not a motel in sight, but sleeping in his Baby has never been a problem. They just spread themselves out (Cas on the back seats, him on the front); they tried the whole 'snuggling' thing once, but all he got was one hell of a crick in his neck for the trouble. Cas doesn't sleep much anyway, being semi-angel and all, so it makes it easier for him to get up and move around in the night, too.
"Here," Cas beckons him over, voice soft but firm, "Let me."
With a single kiss, he can feel the aches and the pains slowly lifting from his body. The shallow gash across his arm eases away instantly, the swelling beneath his left eye disappears in a moment. He sighs against the sensation. It took him a while to let Cas start doing this again, but he understands now; it makes him feel useful, like he's still capable of doing great things. He still misses being a proper angel, Dean thinks. He misses being this powerful creature of heaven, with the awesome tricks and fancy wings. It doesn't matter to him whether Cas is an angel or not, but if Cas finds some small comfort in what little grace he has left, he sure as hell ain't gonna deprive him of that.
"Thanks, Cas," He whispers, leaning in for one last kiss. Their lips brush together, moving in perfect rhythm, and he feels that all-too familiar feeling again, bubbling up inside of him...
When they break apart, Cas cups his face gently, and he can see the same emotion staring back at him, shining in the midnight pools of Cas' eyes. He covers the angel's hands with his own and smiles; he can feel himself slowly tipping over the edge, but for once, he doesn't really care.
"I love you," The words finally come tumbling out, only followed by the hollow beating of his heart.
Cas exhales a shaky breath and nods, lips pressing together. It's so simple, so pure; everything just seems to slot into place.
"I know, Dean," He says, voice filled with awe, "I know."