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Dean awakes to the sound of rain on the motel window. It’s still dark out, and Sam is snoring away in the other bed. He rolls over to look at the clock on the nightstand between them. 3 AM. Dean turns away from its red glow and tries to fall back to sleep, he’s unsuccessful. He’d been dreaming about something, that was probably what woke him up. Unsettling dreams aren’t exactly an anomaly for him at this point.
With a sigh Dean hauls himself out of bed and into the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror for a long time after he’s done washing his hands. What had he been dreaming about? All he can remember now are images and impressions, and a vague uneasiness.
“I need some air,” Dean mutters to his reflection after shaking himself back into the present. He slips on his shoes in the dark and steps outside to stand under the awning that runs the length of the motel. The smell of summer rain is calming and sleepy, exactly what he needed.
There’s a streetlight by the road, and another man stands under its gaze. Against his better judgement, Dean walks towards him. Hey, maybe someone else is having a restless night too. At first he sticks close to the motel, staying dry under the awning. He passes thee doors before realizing this is boring, and walks out into the rain.
The smell is stronger now, and warm water trickles down the back of his neck. It’s an odd feeling, but not exactly unpleasant. As he gets closer, Dean sees that the man under the streetlamp isn’t a stranger at all. It’s Cas. Dean finds himself walking a bit faster.
“Hey! Cas!” Dean calls to Castiel, somewhere between a shout and a whisper. If anyone else is up and about at this time, he doesn’t particularly want to be heard. Castiel turns toward him at the sound of his voice.
“The hell are you doing out here man? It’s the middle of the night!” Dean stops just before entering the circle of pavement that the streetlamp illuminates.
“I’m waiting. I came to offer my assistance, but you two are not usually awake at this time of night.” Castiel replies as if it’s the most painfully obvious answer.
“But why are you out here in the rain? You’re soaking wet!” Dean isn’t too disconcerted though, it’s not like Cas has ever made sense. It’s part of his charm.
“So are you.” Dean can’t deny that, so instead he goes to stand next to Cas in his island of light. For a while, they are silent. Raindrops glow in the lamplight as they streak by Dean’s face.
The conversation dies after that, but when Dean looks over at Cas a few minutes later, he notices that his brows are knit together and his shoulders hunch unhappily.
“Hey, uh, is something bothering you?” This type of thing really isn’t in Dean’s area of expertise. He’s pretty good at reading people’s emotions, you have to be when you’re impersonating a federal agent half the time, but when it comes to talking about them he’s far out of his comfort zone. Dean realizes, however, that his own discomfort would be preferable to having Cas look like that any longer.
“The...” he hesitates, as if trying to think of the right words to use, “The political situation in heaven is getting worse. I worry now that I do not have enough influence within the Host to resolve it.”
“I thought the rain would help me think,” Castiel continues, “but unfortunately it’s only served to make my vessel very wet.”
Dean can’t help but laugh at this, “So that’s why you’re suddenly so eager to help us out, you needed to get out of the house for a while.”
Castiel sighs, “I guess you could say that.”
“Well you know you’re welcome on the hunt no matter what, we could always use your help.” Dean reaches a hand out to clap Cas on the back. Cas sighs and leans into the touch. The rain is coming down harder now, and Dean finally notices that they’re both soaked to the bone now.
“C’mon, let’s get out of the rain,” he says, and tugs Cas by his elbow back towards the motel. The angel gives him an odd look but follows him under the awning.
Cas stops once they’re out of the rain. He stands up a bit straighter, avoiding Dean’s eyes, and takes a deep breath. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean notes that it seems like he’s preparing himself for something. Dean realizes what, exactly, he was preparing for when Castiel leans forward and kisses him, gripping Dean’s shoulders to hold himself steady.
It really isn’t that bad, kissing another guy slash supernatural being. Not bad at all. Castiel’s lips are warm and just a little bit rough, and his breath smells like the rain. Dean’s surprised by how reluctant he is to pull away, and when he does he’s never seen so much self-doubt in Cas’ eyes.
Castiel starts to stammer out an explanation or excuse and this time Dean’s the one to kiss him. He’s aware that this is really gay but it’s also Cas, so he’d like to focus on the angel in front of him and have a sexuality crisis when he’s not so busy.
When Castiel pushes him up against the wall and tangles his fingers in Dean’s hair, he responds by wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulling their bodies closer together.
Cas licks at his lower lip and the growing heat and sensitivity in his groin are eclipsed by just how ridiculous this is. He tries to open his mouth and let Cas in but only succeeds in spluttering and giggling like a teenage girl. Castiel steps back, confused, but by now Dean is laughing so hard that he had to grip Cas’ shoulders with both hands to keep from doubling over.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Castiel says, his lips red and swollen. This just makes Dean laugh harder.
“We’re kissing in the rain like we’re in a freakin’ chick flick!” Dean finally gasps out, “But it’s not and we’re outside a shitty roadside motel in the middle of nowhere!”
“That doesn’t matter, though” Dean sobers up, “Because you know what, Cas? We’re still freakin’ beautiful.” With that Castiel finally cracks a smile, and it’s the most genuine thing Dean’s ever seen. He’ll have to figure out how to get Cas to smile like that more often.
When Dean sneaks back into their room, Cas comes with him. They tiptoe into the bathroom, Dean still snickering as he tries not to wake up Sam. Castiel is silent, but still smiling.
Dean closes the lid of the toilet and sits down on top of it, while Castiel perches on the rim of the bathtub. He grabs two towels from the rack above the toilet, tossing one over Cas’ head. Cas peeks out from under the towel, and when Dean blinks his vessel is dry. He smirks at Dean as if daring him to protest.
The corners of the towel flop at Cas’ shoulders, so Dean grabs them and pulls him in for another kiss. The space in the bathroom is cramped, yet comfortable and safe. Inside, it’s easy to forget that there’s any world beyond the fluorescent-lit tiles, the sound of rain on the window, and each other.