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Dean waved goodbye to the angel from the driver’s seat of the car, still feeling the warmth of their embrace a moment before.
Their first “non-romantic” date had went well. It was still weird spending social time with Castiel but he had actually had a good time, and his friend seemed to enjoy himself too; even if it’s sometimes hard to tell with him.
Among the jokes and the awkward staring contests, one thing that especially stuck out in Dean’s mind was the warmth Cas radiated. He thought about it all the way back; the way they held hands (completely for survival tactics, like penguins huddling together, he tried to tell himself) and when the other had draped his trench coat over the shivering hunter. He had never noticed it before; he had never been so close to the angel for that long.
Stepping out of the impala Dean pulled his jacket tighter around himself, he hadn’t thought it was this cold out but it felt below freezing, every little breeze cutting him to the core. In an attempt to escape the cold he rushed into the motel room, only to find his brother relaxing with the air conditioning on.
“Jesus Christ, turn that damn thing off”
Sam reached over and clicked off the power with a frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s freezing, can’t you feel it?”
“Dean, it’s barely 68 in here, are you okay?”
“Yeah, no, I don’t know!”
“Maybe you’re getting a cold”
“Har har, Sam, ‘a cold’ I get it.”
“You’re delirious. What was funny about that?”
“I don’t know, I just spent over nine hours with a guy who doesn’t know why the chicken crossed the road”
“Wait, who were you with?”
Shit. He had forgotten his cover story.”…Castiel. I was with Cas”
A smirk formed on Sam’s face, “Did he make you another pie? Or maybe you two made something together?”
Dean pointed a stern finger at him, “Sam, you are a dirty little man, you’re lucky nothing can put me off pie. We just had a pizza and saw a movie.”
“That’s a nice safe first date, so unlike you. Thinking about getting serious?”
“I’m serious about kicking your ass if you don’t shut up.”
“Aw, now you’re not even trying to deny it.”
“Seriously, Sam, I’m not in the mood and Cas isn’t my type”
The younger Winchester looked like he wanted to say a million other things but held back, he could see his brother was on edge.
Truth was Dean wanted to stop thinking about Cas, their date had left him confused. Plus, he was still cold. Cold from head to toe, he felt like he would never be warm again.
Dean crawled into his motel bed, barely taking the time it took to pull off his shoes before he was buried under the covers. “Sammy, turn on the heater”
He clicked it on, and asked “Is there anything else I can get for you?”, concerned.
Dean’s muffled voice came from under the blankets “About five more comforters would be great”, a pause, “Yes, I’m serious”
Sam shrugged and headed out the door, leaving his brother in freezing silence.
This didn’t make sense; did that damn angel suck all the warmth out of him in the last hug? That damned, wonderful, handsom—STOP. He was losing control of his thoughts; he didn’t want to go there with Cas. Not now at least—NO. Could he just stop thinking?
The younger hunter thankfully returned a minute later with a pile of folded blankets and spread them out on Dean’s bed. “There, any better?”
“No. But thank you.”
“Sure, let me know if there’s anything else”
It felt like Dean had hardly blinked before he was awake again. The room was dark and he could see the outline of Sam sleeping in the other bed. Looking over at the clock it said ‘3:17’. He noticed then he was hugging one of the pillows; he was missing someone if subconscious body language had anything to say about it and he knew exactly who.
He was missing Castiel.
The eldest Winchester decided to simply accept that fact. Yeah, he was missing Cas, so what? That didn’t mean anything—Bullshit. It meant everything. He never missed anyone this much unless they’d just died. Other than that he didn’t have time to sit around missing people because he knew in a hunter’s life you’d either see them soon enough or one of you would die before meeting again; that’s just how it was.
But Cas hadn’t just died so obviously this was different, and he could tell it was different.
Dean had never felt a connection like this but he knew what it was. The way he felt when the angel looked at him with those impossibly blue eyes, or the victory of getting even a ghost of a smile in response to a joke, the blank stare response was good because then he could just look at him with the excuse of simply staring back. He liked everything about the warrior of heaven from their shared love of burgers to the permanently tousled hair. Last night had been one of the best nights of his life (that was saying something, he’d had some /pretty good/ nights), just getting to be in each other’s company when they weren’t about to die or when the world was ending.
So that’s what it was: He was in love with the angel.
Soon after this sort of revelation he mercifully started to warm up. Maybe the chill was the universe’s equivalent of a headlock and he’d just called ‘uncle’. Though, even if he wasn’t a hunter-sicle anymore, he wouldn’t have turned down a little extra angel warmth. For a moment he considered praying to Castiel but when his brother made a little snoring sound he decided against it, he had barely come to terms with this himself and he wasn’t quite ready to make any true love confessions just yet, much less tolerate more disturbingly suggestive pie jokes from his brother.
He would figure out the perfect thing to say when the right time came but until then he would ease into this, work to be more open and comfortable around his angel.
Dean knew the right time would come and he knew he’d know exactly what to do.