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Despite deciding to “take things slow,” Dean’s falling for Cas hard and fast.
Their “dates” have mostly consisted of visiting each other’s small apartments to share a meal or “watch tv” (in quotes because, if Dean’s being honest, the television gets about 5 minutes of their attention max). The one time they go out in public, Dean gets so nervous he doesn’t even hold Cas’s hand until they get to his apartment, where he plants a soft kiss on the mop of Cas’s hair that apparently never was going to get any neater than that first day they met. Dean’s heart is racing from that small act alone, despite the fact that they’d already kissed before. Yet Cas easily finds his way into Dean’s life and heart, quickly meeting and befriending Dean’s most important people.
That last week of June, Cas has a glint in his eye that gives Dean butterflies. He can’t tell if they’re the good or bad kind. When he asks Cas if something’s up, the smug bastard just smiles. Sometimes that same soft smile he first saw in the bar’s back office, others cheeky and purposefully teasing just to egg Dean on. They aren’t above wrestling over it, they find out, and at one point end up in a heap of tangled limbs and laughter.
It’s just… new. To Dean. All these feelings. Feelings for a guy. Feelings of wanting something real. An actual honest to god relationship. Because that’s what it has to be with Cas: the guy's ace so there isn’t even the sex to fall back on. It’s pure heart. And Dean’s never been good at that. So he hasn’t really told anyone yet. Not Sam, not Pamela, not Benny or any of his other coworkers, not even Charlie. It isn't even the guy thing. Dean may not be out to the world but those people are family: them, Uncle Bobby, Ellen and Jo... Dean's been out to them for years and knows they love and support him unconditionally. Still, that doesn't seem to stop the spike of anxiety anytime someone—friend or stranger—looks his and Cas's way.
June 30th arrives and Cas still never got a chance to make up for missing the town’s official Pride Parade, even though he insists that Dean needn’t worry about it. Dean can't help but feel bad, though. He may hate the idea of marching in a noisy crowd in the middle of summer with the sun beating down on him, but Cas wanted to go out, wanted to celebrate his queerness, find community, feel seen in the very way that scares Dean shitless. And maybe Dean hates himself a little for not being able to give that to him.
"I actually made some plans for us tonight," Cas says with a grin and that same glint in his eye that's been flickering in and out of their week.
Dean's heart flutters faster, and he knows it's got nothing to do with his POTS. "Lead the way then."
Cas grabs him by the hand, fearless and easy. As if it were completely natural and not something his mind nearly short circuits over every time their hands are within a foot from one another. He drags Dean to his rusted, beat-up pickup truck and Dean still hasn't managed to get rid of the urge to tease his new… whatever Cas is… about his rides. He isn't sure which one is worse: this falling apart behemoth that Cas once ran out of gas on or the golden pimpmobile 70s Lincoln Continental he also has for some God-awful reason. Cas, observant as ever, catches Dean's suppressed giggles and glares back playfully.
"My date, my ride. If you want to take your Baby next time then I guess you'll just have to ask me on a proper date!"
Cas is teasing. Dean knows it. Dean hears it in the light laughter, sees it in the soft lines crinkling around Cas's eyes, feels it in the reassuring squeeze of his hand. But in the past few weeks Dean has never managed to actually ask the guy out properly—any progress in their relationship has all been Cas's doing—and his stomach sinks anyways.
The thirtieth falls on a Monday this year, so Rocky's and most of the other food and beverage businesses downtown are closed. Dean's a little confused, then, when Cas drives the all-too-familiar route from his apartment to his work, and more so when the back parking lot isn't empty.
"Cas? What's goin' on?"
"You'll see!"
Dean opens his mouth to argue further, but Cas squeezes his hand in that reassuring gesture he stole from Dean the very first day, and nothing comes out.
Relationships are built on trust, and Dean is trying.
Cas refuses to let Dean’s hand go as he practically skips to the sidewalk. Dean lets himself be dragged along, laughing as they trip over the curb, get caught up in the moment… so much so that he doesn’t really process the fact that he recognizes at least half the cars in the lot.
When Cas pushes the door open, Dean’s greeted with a chorus of “Happy Pride!” and a rainbow explosion. Dean’s halfway to an awkward laugh when they get mobbed.
“How ya doin’, Dean,” Ellen says warmly, pulling him in for a hug that’s just enough to ease his nerves from the sudden swarm of what feels like every person Dean knows. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself in the warmth of his surrogate mother and pulls back, ready to thank her and ask what’s going on.
“Cassie!” Dean hears loudly over the already shouting crowd, and fuck. He doesn’t know that voice!
“Who—”
“Finally meeting the mystery boyfriend!” the voice continues. Dean’s hand is still wrapped in Cas’s, has been since they stepped inside, he realizes. It’s growing clammy with every agonizing second and Cas isn’t letting him go.
“Happy Pride, Dean!” Charlie cheers, shoving her way towards him.
She’s so enthusiastic and happy for him to come out with everyone and celebrate with his apparent boyfriend. And he didn’t even have the balls to tell his family that he and Cas are together at all. He pulls back his hand with a jolt.
“Dean?” Cas asks, just loud enough for him to hear.
Dean looks up, he can’t help it, and is met with bright blue eyes and a far-too-earnest frown.
“Are you alright?”
Dean’s heart is racing. He opens his mouth but what even is he going to say? Nothing comes out.
“Trying to get to my girlfriend, here!” an irritated voice calls, squeezing through what Dean once thought was a spacious entryway but now feels anything but. More bodies get shoved around and Dean nearly falls over.
He’s hyperventilating now, getting dizzy. He’s standing on his own two feet for now, but shit if that’s gonna last long.
“What’s going—” Cas starts, reaching out a comforting hand, and it’s just too much. Dean can’t take it anymore.
Blinking back tears, he runs to his back office.
The moment he slams the door shut, he crumples to the floor and rolls over, squeezing himself into a fetal position as he takes shaky breaths. It feels so goddamn stupid, and he’s aware of this, yet he can’t do anything. A minute later breathing gets harder for purely physical reasons and he realizes he’s being an idiot yet again.
He knows better than to try to calm down curled up like this! Pamela taught him better. He forces himself to scooch to his back and prop his legs up on the wall. Deep inhale, slow exhale. Deep inhale, slow exhale. Dean keeps squeezing his fists, in time as he hums “Some Kind of Monster” in his head. Metallica’s always calmed him down for some reason. Unconventional, but Pam said if it works then it works so here he is, imagining heavy metal as he calms down from a panic attack, lying upside down in his own office.
Wow, does he feel pretty stupid right now.
There’s a knock at the door. Dean almost jumps despite the gentleness of the sound, like it’s restraining itself from being too loud. It’s just Sam though, he can tell.
Sure enough, two seconds later Sam’s voice quietly calls, “Dean? You in there?” as if he might’ve run out into the 100ºF heat by the dumpster instead.
Still, Dean can’t give an answer.
“Are you okay? Just, I know you and I don’t want you feeling like you ruined things for anyone, everyone just wants to help you to be alright.”
Thanks, Sammy, Dean wants to say. I’m here. But he can’t even open his damn mouth.
“Just, give me a sign? Like, knock on the door or something. Or…? I mean, if you want me to leave you alone—”
Dean interrupts his brother’s increasingly worried rambling by jiggling the door handle with his foot. Some people are talented enough to open doors with their feet, but not him. He needs to work on his foot dexterity apparently.
Thank freaky-brother-ESP-shit that Sam recognizes the gesture for the invitation it is. He slowly opens the door, letting in some light and the happy din of casual partying from outside that has Dean’s heart rate spiking once more.
“Mind if I turn on a light?”
Dean nods.
Sam’s kind enough to walk across the room to flip on the softer desk lamp instead of the bright overheads before closing the door. The quiet helps Dean’s body calm down, but as it ticks on, with Sam looming over him taking noisy breaths, his mind runs like a storm.
“We did kind of ambush you there, huh,” Sam finally starts.
Dean nods.
“I should’ve stepped in more, done something— I’m sorry.”
Dean shakes his head vigorously. This isn’t Sam’s fault. Not the crowd, not Dean’s broken reaction to it, none of it.
“Cas worked with Pamela and Jo to organize this small event, but it didn’t hit me just how many people would actually be here…”
Cas.
Fuck.
Dean reaches for Sam’s leg and squeezes, to get his brother’s attention.
“Do you want me to stay here?” Sam asks, clearly confused by what Dean actually wants.
Two squeezes.
“But you don’t want to be here by yourself?”
One squeeze. Close, but not quite everything. Keep going, keep going, Dean thinks Sam’s way.
“You want Ellen?”
Two squeezes.
“Pam? Wait, no— it’s Cas you need to talk to, isn’t it.”
Three squeezes.
“Okay, I’ll send him over. And, whatever is going on between you two, you don’t gotta explain anything, okay? We’re your family and just want to see you happy.” Sam says in that unbearably soft voice of his, before slipping out the room.
Alone again, Dean’s heart races.
Cas planned all this for him. Why? Oh, he remembers now: Cas, who never had a chance to celebrate Pride before, creating an event just for them because of Dean’s very words to him the first time Cas came back to the bar. “Fuck all that noise,” Dean had said. And how does Dean react now? By falling the fuck apart. What does the guy even see in him? Dean can’t do this relationship stuff.
But God, does he want to with Cas.
If Cas still wants that with him, at least. Because that’s what Cas deserves. He doesn’t do the sex part. And that’s the only part Dean actually knows. He’s comfortable with sex. It’s fun, easy, and as long as everyone’s having a good time nothing needs to hurt.
It’s not even the fact that he doesn’t know how to be emotionally vulnerable; Pam beat that stubborn part of him to death back when she was his therapist. He can do that stuff better now, with friends, family. But something more? Dean hasn’t had a ‘something more’ since after the accident. Back then, he was repressed as shit and anyone he ever tried more than casual sex with would eventually leave when they figured out he wasn’t capable of opening up. But now? Now he’s an even bigger mess, and he knows it. He’s got the tools to deal with all his baggage, but fuck if that load still weighs him down every day. And he’s got a million illnesses on top of that. How is he supposed to take care of a partner if he’s barely able to take care of himself? How can he be a partner if he’s too chicken to even tell his family?
A louder knock at the door has Dean jumping out of his skin yet again.
“Hello, Dean. Sam said you were looking to see me?” Cas says, his low, gravelly voice both calming Dean’s racing heart and giving him butterflies. “I’m coming in,” he decides before Dean can even think of a way to respond.
Sure enough, Cas lets himself into the room and closing the door behind him. Dean watches as Cas clambers down to the floor, then smirks as the dork shifts into the best-postured criss-cross-apple-sauce he’s ever had the glory of witnessing.
Cas looks over at him, face looking flat as always when he isn’t mid-meltdown. Dean’s starting to learn how to read the guy’s stoic expressions better, though. He can see the slight wobble in the corner of his mouth, as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to smile. Can see the slight clench of his jaw, something he tends to do when he’s worried about saying the wrong thing. Can see the furrow in his brow melt away when they finally look each other in the eyes and Dean is able to give him a hesitant smile. Dean’s still nervous, has no idea how this conversation is going to go, but seeing all these little ways Cas shows his care helps him feel like he isn’t gonna throw up anymore.
“I think you’re in my spot, Dean,” Cas deadpans.
Dean snorts, and just like that, any anxiety disappears. Whatever the hell this conversation will be, if he’s even able to talk at all, somehow Dean has the feeling they’ll end up just fine.
“I apologize for not thinking today through well enough, it was never my attention to overwhelm you—”
Dean darts his hand out and grabs Cas’s arm, squeezing it twice and shaking his head.
“Hm?” Cas frowns. “Oh, Sam explained. Two means ‘no,’ three means ‘yes’?”
Dean nods, squeezing three times, and Cas’s eyes soften into that half smile Dean’s growing ever more fond of.
“I’m glad you two have a system to communicate. I think I’ll steal it.”
Dean squeezes three times, holding longer at the last one as his heart clenches in sympathy. Being stuck mute and not being able to communicate verbally is hard and lonely enough, but Dean can’t imagine how much worse it must be if you’re struggling with that all alone. He’ll make damn sure Cas never has to go though that by himself again.
“Dean, can you help me understand what happened?”
Dean takes a deep breath, blinks back tears as he shrugs. Then three squeezes.
“Alright. I can stick with the yes/no’s, and take whatever time you need to think about your answers, okay?”
Dean chuckles to himself as he squeezes three times again. Damn nerd sounding like Pamela.
“Was it the crowd? I find that hard to believe given that it is less crowded than half of your shifts, but maybe it took you by surprise?”
Dean moves to squeeze but pauses. The crowd did take him by surprise, but he wasn’t overwhelmed by the people crowding around him… that wasn’t the cause at least. Not like it was for Cas the day they first met. Okay, so that’s two squeezes.
“Thank you for confirming that, Dean. Did you not want to celebrate Pride?” Cas asks with a frown. “I mean, if that’s what it is, I just want to understand, you don’t need to feel bad about—”
Dean double squeezes as soon as he realizes what Cas is thinking. Dean’s perfectly okay with celebrating. Technically, this was his idea after all, right? Cas cuts off his rambling with a relieved sigh, but soon starts squirming uncomfortably, as if a new idea came to him and he’s afraid of what Dean’s answer might be.
“Is it me?” he whispers. “Do you, do you not want to be seen with me?”
Double squeeze! As hard as Dean can muster.
“Ow, ow, point made, it’s not me, no need to torture me further, Dean.”
Dean flashes Cas a cheeky grin, which Cas rolls his eyes at, but Dean doesn’t miss the smile he can’t hold back. That’s better. No fucking way is Dean ashamed of Cas.
“But we still have not gone out on a proper date.”
Dean’s chest tightens uncomfortably, and tears sting at his eyes again.
“And you haven’t told any of them about us, have you.”
He just squeezes Cas’s arm tighter, and makes a fist with his free hand and circles it over his heart: ‘I’m sorry.’
“I suppose I’m not great at navigating social cues with relationships. Everyone I have ever been with, which is not a very long list mind you, was either completely closeted or entirely out. I— I don’t mind taking things slow, I promise you. But I apologize if this felt like me pushing our relationship too fast.”
Dean frowns. Pushing too fast? Dean wasn’t even thinking about that. Double squeeze.
“Oh.” Cas tilts his head at Dean and frowns, eyebrows scrunching adorably. Dean almost laughs, watching Cas trying to diagnose how he broke Dean and realizing his main theory was entirely off.
Well, maybe not entirely off. Dean does feel like he’s being pushed too fast. But it’s not the relationship itself that feels like it’s moving too quickly. Then again, how can a relationship move at all if he’s stuck half-way in the closet?
“Dean? Dean.” Cas places his hand over Dean’s and squeezes. “Breathe with me. In, two, three… hold, two three… out, two three.”
Dean forces his ragged breathing to follow Cas’s even voice, ignoring the way his heart pounds too loud when he holds his breath, and the way his exhales shudder. But Cas keeps breathing with him, and soon enough Dean’s breath and heart rates are a little bit closer to normal.
“Gabriel used to do that with me when I would have panic attacks as a kid.”
Dean squeezes and smiles. Gabriel is Cas’s chaos-machine of a brother that dragged him to Pride then promptly left him for some dick popsicles, then apparently got distracted by some leather fetishists the day Cas and Dean met. Dean didn’t think much of the guy at first, but quickly figured out that despite his raging ADHD he was the only person that ever truly looked out for Cas in his entire life. No wonder Castiel moved halfway across the country for him.
“Can I guess that you figured out what triggered this earlier? Is that why you were suddenly more anxious?”
Damn tears refusing to obey Dean. His throat tightens, and he feels like he doesn’t know how to breathe. He manages to squeeze Cas’s arm three times.
The hand over his slides away, and Dean hates it. The back of his hand feels too cold, and he feels untethered, the arm under his own palm not enough. He wants to reach over and grab the idiot’s hand like it’s screaming. Fuck it, Dean decides. Pride’s the time to be brave, right?
Dean catches Cas’s hands tugging on the carpet and brings them to his chest. He lifts his head to nuzzle his chin over their clasped hands, a gesture that takes a ridiculous amount of effort when laying on his back but all the more worth it to see Cas’s face light up like that. He loves that smile more than anything, these days. Dean rests his head back down to save his neck from falling apart (he wishes he weren’t so literal about that), and smiles as their hands naturally tangle, fingers interlacing.
He’s having an anxiety attack, and he’s blushing from holding hands. Dean can’t help but snicker out loud.
“What? What’s so funny?” Cas asks, voice rising.
Dean squeezes twice as he lets his laughter die down, before letting go with one hand and gesturing to himself. Cas furrows his brows at him with yet another head tilt, as if he cannot fathom what Dean could find so hilarious about his situation, but lets it go.
“Are you feeling better than before I came in, at least?”
Dean doesn’t even need to think about it. He squeezes three times and kisses the hands in his own.
Cas lets Dean stay there as long as he wants. It’s not that long, apparently; once Dean’s past that initial burst of anxiety, the drone of celebrations quickly turns from overwhelming to enticing.
It’s been a long time since Dean last went mute. Sometimes, he’d only be mute momentarily like what Cas describes as his verbal shut-downs, but others went longer. Days, even weeks. Months, if it’s real bad, but that’s only under real bad circumstances. Dean hoped he’d get his voice back once he calmed down, but looks like that’s not happening any time soon.
Shit.
“Everything alright? Do you need help getting up?”
Dean shrugs, then sighs. He should probably start to get vertical, at least. Otherwise he’ll topple over regardless of how he’s feeling. It’s fun to let your legs drop sideways to the ground, but it does make a thud and apparently also makes Cas anxious, so Dean just gives him a sheepish smile and reaches towards him. Cas offers his elbow as a brace, and Dean takes a long two minutes to slowly reposition himself so that he’s seated next to Cas with his legs sticking out on the floor instead of towards the ceiling.
Dean squeezes the elbow in thanks before slipping his hand lower to hold Cas’s hand. It feels so natural, now, and yet still hasn’t lost any thrill. What a sap Cas is turning him into, but he can’t find it in himself to mind that at all.
“Still can’t talk?” Cas asks.
Dean squeezes tight and braces himself. He knows that this isn’t something he can just ‘get over’ no matter what John drilled into him growing up, but the instinct to prepare for punishment takes a long time to unlearn.
“Okay. If you’d like we can keep communicating like this, or if you prefer to switch to writing now? Sam said you sometimes use notepads or your phone…”
Well Dean feels like an idiot. How many times has he dealt with this mutism thing and he forgot the literal easiest way to communicate through it? When Dean glances back over at Cas, the guy’s already pulling up his phone’s notes app for Dean to use. ‘Boyfriend material,’ as Pam and Claire would say. Dean snatches it instantly.
Sorry for freaking out, didn’t see this coming and got overwhelmed with everything.
Dean hands the phone back and looks over for Cas’s reaction. He reads it slowly with a frown (the dork needs reading glasses), before his face melts into pure affection.
“You have no need to apologize, Dean. Was there anything in particular that was triggering?”
Dean stares back at the phone and sighs, typing a few words and deleting a few times before he figures out how to word things without making Cas feel like Dean doesn’t want him.
Like you said, I’m not fully out of the closet. You’ve mostly seen me one on one or only with my closest friends who I am out to, and in those settings I’m perfectly comfortable. But I still get nervous being out in public, or around people I don’t know. I was surprised by the party, a little overwhelmed with the way we got mobbed, but then I heard voices I didn’t recognize and that’s what did it. Plus, not having told any of my people directly about us, it got too much. Sorry.
Dean hands the phone back to Castiel, this time without looking over. Eye contact with him is always so intense, and sometimes that’s amazing but right now it feels like it’ll be too much.
“Oh, I must apologize. I only invited Gabriel and Meg, since those two are also queer, but I shouldn’t have assumed that you’d be okay with that.”
Oh, that makes a lot more sense, based on everything he’s heard about those two. The guy calling Cas ‘Cassie’ was obviously his brother and the rude brunette was Meg.
Did you let Meg bring her girlfriend?
Cas frowns. “I was wondering about that part earlier, to my knowledge she’s been hooking up with this ‘hot nerd’ she met at Pride”—Dean grins at Cas’s air quotes—”but she never indicated anything serious. I do apologize on behalf of her… well, everything I suppose. Gabriel too.”
Dean chuckles at that.
Want to meet them
“Ready to head back then?” Cas asks.
Dean nods, and lets Cas haul him to his feet, refusing to let go of one of Cas’s hands even after his wooziness subsides and they head into the party together.
Sam and Kevin are nerding out together next to Jody and Donna, who are trying and failing to figure out what they’re even talking about. Some sort of math-space-physics thing? Claire’s cuddling her girlfriend Kaia on one of the couches. Her family isn’t supportive, Dean remembers. Claire was grumbling the other day about how Kaia wasn’t allowed to make the main Pride event earlier that month. Bobby, Ellen, Jack, and Jo make a hilarious range of faces as they’re gathered around Gabriel, who’s regaling them with some tale about the porn industry…? It’s either 50% or 100% fabricated, but apparently it is the porn industry that Gabriel works in, so. That’s fun.
Pam and Ash are by the bar, Ash making some cocktails and Pam taste-testing. She doesn’t look all that pleased about how the drink’s coming along. And on the couch by Sam is Charlie, cuddling with MEG! So Charlie’s the ‘hot nerd.’ The nerd part is dead on, as Charlie randomly pipes up into Sam and Kevin’s conversation without ever turning away from Meg, who’s sprawled over her chest. Dean almost misses Benny tucked in a corner booth, flushed pink as he chats with one of their old regulars Garth who he totally does not have a crush on, Dean! Aside from Kaia and Garth, Cas has already met them all.
Claire spots them first. “Welcome back, Hasselhof!” she teases with a smirk.
Dean fake-smiles at her, before realizing everyone’s eyes are on him and Cas now. Holding hands. He waves the free hand sheepishly and grips Cas’s hand tighter.
Nothing bad happens at all. Everyone just smiles at him and lets him be the mess he is.
“Yo, Dean,” Ash calls. “Self serve bar with the Pride specials!”
Sure enough, their hand-written specials board has been brought down and booklets with mixing instructions are scattered across the countertops. Dean looks over at Cas with raised eyebrows, and Cas nods.
Dean’s pretty proud of the list. He and Pam had a hell of a time brainstorming names. Amongst his favorite are: Pamela’s Pride, Rainbow-jito, Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy (if you don’t get it, you gotta listen to more Queen), Lez on the Beach (blame Charlie for this one), Green Fairy (no name change needed), Pink Martini, Dai-queer-i, Jason Collins (named after the first publicly gay athlete to play in the USA’s Big Four sporting leagues), Ace-viation, and Bloody Menses (also blame Charlie).
Ash grins at him, and Dean’s able to grin back. Pam pulls Dean into a ridiculously tight hug that makes it impossible to breathe but also feels amazing afterwards, and pats his cheek. They don’t say anything, but those two gestures speak everything.
Dean lets himself watch as Cas focuses far too intently on getting exact measurements out of the million parts of his Green Fairy. He’d offered Dean his favorite, the Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, but Dean shook his head. As much as he’d love one, alcohol and POTS isn’t really a great mix and he can feel himself starting to get lightheaded staying on his feet.
“Aha!” Cas cheers as he adds the final garnishes with the cherries and lemon zest, folded like a little citrus origami. It’s filled nearly to the brim. Dean shakes his head fondly as Cas shuffles precarious step by step towards the group.
Ellen kicks Gabriel and Jo off the couch to make space for Cas and Dean. Jo grumbles in fake complaint but walks over to the bar for a drink, flipping Dean off with a grin as she passes him and Cas. Gabriel somehow doesn’t even interrupt his story for a breath as he clambers over the couch to stand behind it.
“What the hell, Gabriel,” Cas mutters in that unmistakable embarrassed-younger-sibling voice, and Gabriel just shrugs with a grin.
Alright, Dean can already admit the dude’s gonna grow on him crazy fast. Older brothers just love teasing and mildly embarrassing their younger siblings, it’s in the job description! Anyone who gets that much is usually good in Dean’s book.
Dean plops down on the couch and kicks off his shoes, propping up his feet on the coffee table.
“Darn it boy, customers eat there!” Bobby grumps.
Dean shrugs. It’ll get cleaned before that happens, and he removed his shoes!
He’s wearing the same bisexual socks from Pride, apparently. Some people notice and smile, but just like with everything else, no one makes a big deal out of anything. They just allow him to breathe.
Cas finally is able to gingerly set the drink down on a side table next to the couch, and takes a seat next to Dean, leaving a few inches between them and squishing himself against the armrest. Yeah, that won’t do at all. Dean yanks Cas closer to him and leans into his chest, wrapping one of Cas’s arms around him and grins.
“Awww,” Charlie, Jo, Sam, Claire, Kaia, and Jack all coo. “Gross,” Meg mutters, despite literally being sprawled on top of Charlie like a needy black cat.
“Hey, I ship it!” Charlie admonishes her apparent girlfriend, punctuating the statement with a kiss to her nose that Meg wrinkles her face at but allows anyways. “Destiel for the win!”
“The hell’s a Destiel?” Bobby asks with a frown.
“Dean and Cas’s ship name, it’s a mashing of their names,” Ellen explains with a fond eye roll, smacking Bobby’s arm lightly.
“Shouldn’t it be ‘Deastiel’?” Sam pipes in.
“Destiel sounds better,” Claire says, nonchalant.
“His name is DEAN not DEN!”
Dean chortles under his breath and sinks into his boyfriend, letting himself be. He still can’t speak, but the anvil on his chest gets lifted and he can feel tears springing forward again. Cas shifts to look at him.
”You alright, Dean?” he says with a frown. “Is this okay?” Cas asks, clearly unsure of himself.
Dean kisses him right on the lips then and there, his family cheering behind him as Cas cradles his head. Dean pulls back slowly and gives Cas a shy smile before laying his head over Cas’s now-racing heart.
Dean’s own heart is racing too, but for once it’s sheer excitement.
Is Dean alright? Hell, he’s never been better.