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Cas had noticed the change. It's not like Dean had always been the cheeriest of people, but the change was blatantly recognizable. Day by day he became more depressed and hopeless. Michael. Lucifer. The horsemen. It was weighing down on him so much so that one could say that the weight of the world literally rested upon Dean’s shoulders. And now that Sammy had to be locked up again because of a demon blood binge? Dean seemed irrevocably empty and vacant, just like Famine had said himself.
Now, Cas didn't believe it of course. Dean thought he was alone in Bobby's scrap yard, but he should have realized that part of Cas was always with him. He saw the desperate pleading, the praying to a god that Dean didn't quite believe in. He saw the faint glimmer of hope among all the pain. And what bothered him most? Cas couldn’t comfort him. He didn’t know how to quite frankly. The intricacies of human emotions still eluded him, some people preferred an embrace while others preferred to be alone during upsetting times. Dean was an enigma by himself and Cas couldn’t begin to figure him out. He wasn’t empty, no, not by a long shot. He was just broken. And Cas could do nothing about it but watch.
It bothered him yes, and Cas nearly spent all of his time trying to find a way to make Dean smile or chuckle. Hell, anything that caused an ounce more of emotion to pass across Dean’s face. Yet, he had no answers. He would watch other humans (just for a moment, not nearly long enough to get noticed) just to figure out what made them tick. What brought a smile to a child’s face? To an adult? What about Dean? He had nearly given up all hope, the complexities of human joy far too erratic to comprehend, when he stumbled across something... odd. He had been carefully watching the interactions of a young girl and her father when the father had picked her up and thrown her to the couch. She squealed in delight as his fingers began to poke at her sides and move across her stomach. Her laughter was infectious, and her father smiled as she thrashed on the couch, “Daddy! Quit. Tickling. Me!” She could barely speak, her laughter causing her pleas to come out broken. But the joy was undeniable. He continued for another minute or two, her laughter continually piercing and shrill before he finally gave into her pleading.
Tickling? Cas had never heard of the term, but then again, he had not heard of a lot of things. He assumed the process worked much the same with other humans. Upon tickling her, the daughter could not stop smiling and laughing. Perhaps this was a way to please Dean? Or at least get a smile out of him. Hopeful that he had found a solution, Cas waited for nightfall before returning to Bobby’s.
~ ~ ~
Dean was alone when Cas came to him, sprawled out and fast asleep on a spare bed. Sam was still locked away and Bobby was undoubtedly out doing more research. Cas moved closer to the side of the bed and leaned over Dean, tilting his head to the side. The father had merely began poking his daughter in the side before she erupted into giggles, right? Curiously, he poked the side of Dean’s stomach and waited. No giggles, not even a little bit of movement to be exact. Frowning, Cas jabbed his side again, this time getting a few small mumbles from Dean. Still unhappy with his results, Cas began flying his fingers over Dean’s side and stomach, mimicking what he had seen earlier that day. So lost in concentration, he didn’t even notice Dean’s eyes flying open and latching onto Cas.
“Cas, what’re you-,” Dean managed to say before choking on his words, trying to hold back a laugh.
“I believe it’s referred to as tickling. It’s supposed to bring joy, as I understand it.” Dean had begun to squirm underneath him as Cas continued his ministrations. Throwing a hand over his mouth, Dean continued to try to hold back his laughter.
“Cas. Buddy. Y-you gotta, you gotta stop. I can’t... breathe."
Cas frowned and stilled his hands for moment, "Well, the desired reaction was that you would laugh, not stop breathing," but with that he picked up again with renewed vigor and danced his finger tips all over Dean's stomach.
Apparently, it worked. Unable to hold back anymore Dean thrashed his head back and forth as laughs began to escape his lips. At first quiet, they grew louder and louder as Cas explored, finding even more sensitive areas. His sides, his armpits, even his neck; Cas skated his fingers all over Dean's body, his laughter now infectious. Cas glanced down to find a real smile, one that actually met the eyes on Dean's face. His eyes crinkled shut as he gasped for breath and fought to quiet himself. Cas slowed his movements as he took in Dean's smile. It had been so long. The last time he had seen Dean smile like that, he had made a hooker cry. Granted it had been at his expense, he would have given anything to see it again. And now he had it. Dean's laughter subsided but the smile remained, his eyes slowly fluttering open and catching the angel's. Cas began to say something, he didn't know quite what, when he was suddenly on his back, pinned to the bed with a very warm, very devious looking Dean Winchester straddling his waist.
"You really think you can get away with something like that, d'ya Cas?"
And with that, Cas was the one thrashing around a gasping for breath as Dean tickled the angel. A completely foreign sensation to him, Cas found himself unable to hold back. Laughing at the top of his lungs, he squirmed around underneath the human as Dean continued relentlessly. Going for proper payback, Dean tore at Cas' shirt, exposing his belly directly to the torment. The sensations increasing ten-fold, Cas could no longer breath and was only able to spasm silently as Dean carried on. It seemed like hours before Dean finally stopped, resting his hands on Cas' bare stomach.
He looked at Cas expectantly before questioning the angel, "What was that for?"
Cas looked at him, trying to regain his breath before managing to respond, "You appeared so sad, I wished to make you smile. Or laugh. Just something. I couldn't deal with how empty you seemed."
"You could've warned a guy first. I was two seconds away from shanking your ass until I saw it was you," Dean chuckled,"Why go through all this just to get a smile out of me though?"
Cas thought for a moment, "When I lost faith, I looked to you. You always kept going. Seeing you empty made me fear for what was ahead of us, more so than before. I wished to see you happy one more time, just once if this all ends horrifically. Your smile, the ability you have to become filled with joy even in the worst of times, it makes me envious. It's infectious. And I suppose I missed it."
"You really think that of me? You realize you're talking about Dean Winchester here, right?"
"Well, Dean, we do share a profound bond and I have always been fascinated by you individually."
Dean tried to take everything in, but paused when he realized the position they were still in. Cas underneath him, Dean straddling his waist, shit, had he really torn Cas' shirt in order to tickle him? He glanced at the angel's face again. They locked eyes. The blue of Cas' eyes were so intense, focusing solely on Dean as he patiently waited for an answer. Dean slowly stroked up the angels side before his hands came to a rest on Cas' shoulders. Cas shuddered, but didn't protest, their gaze still firmly locked.
Dean final spoke up, "It's not just the bond, is it?"
Cas tilted his head, prompting Dean to explain.
"It's not just the bond. You caring. You want me, me of all people to be happy. You started a fucking tickle fight during the apocalypse to make me happy. It can't just be the bond," Dean stopped, his eyes full of questions as Cas gazed up at him. The seconds dragged on, neither of them wanting to say it. It seemed like hours, days, before Cas finally whispered.
"I suppose it's not."
And with that, Dean's lips were on his angel's. A soft peck at first, Dean quickly settled his body onto the angel's, deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue. It was messy and desperate and both of their lips were drier than a desert, but it was perfect. Cas moved his hands from the bed to cup Dean's head, threading his fingers through the short, silken strands. Dean fisted his hand in the rat's nest of Cas' hair, his other hand grasping onto the angel's hip. Before long they parted, gasping for breath as their foreheads touched, smiles creeping across their faces.
"So, was this all part of the 'let's make Dean happy' plan?", Dean questioned in a mocking tone.
"It wasn't intended, but if it continues to get the same response, I suppose it can be."
Dean grinned at his angel before hugging him tight, already feeling his emptiness slip away.
"Good, because I can think of a lot more things you can do to make me happy."
"I think I'd like that."