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“Dean!” Castiel scolds as Dean steps over his own feet again. Dean blushes furiously. Cheeks heated with embarrassment, he shoves Castiel’s hands away from his waist.
“If I’m so bad, Cas, then you should just get a new partner.” Dean spits out venomously, stalking over to his dance bag.
“Where did that come from?” He hears Cas grumble. “I didn’t say that at all!”
Dean starts pulling out his ribbons that tie his points to his legs and feet. “No, but you were thinking it.” It’s hard enough that he had to take this stupid ballet class, it’s even harder to have to pair dance with Castiel Novak, ballet dancer extraordinaire, probably a prodigy, and the hottest man Dean has ever laid eyes on,for his final. Of course he wasn’t going to be as good as him. This is fucking stupid. He’s stupid thinking that Cas would like him back. This pair dancing shit was just proving what Dean already knew.
He looked up to see Cas’s brow furrowed in a scowl. “I was not thinking that at all, Dean.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“Yeah, okay,” Dean scoffed, prying one of his slippers off and shoving it into his bag.
He could feel Castiel kneel beside him, but he refused to look at him, choosing instead to start removing his other slipper.
Castiel bats his hands away from his foot and grabs his face from underneath his chin, forcing Dean to look at him. Blue eyes blaze with fury and Dean almost swallows his tongue. He feels his face heating up for a very different reason. He’s never seen Cas angry, well, not angry at him at least. Any argument he had formulated in his mind evaporates.
“Why are you acting like this?” Castiel asks, his brow still stitched together in a disappointed frown. Dean rips his face out of Castiel’s hand before he could do anything stupid like kiss him.
“Oh Dean… you don’t think you’re good enough…” Castiel says softly from behind him, as if he’s just having this thought.
“You saw me just then, I can’t even do the simplest moves with you.” Dean grinds out. He doesn’t want to admit that he knew the reason why he kept fucking up. He doesn’t want to admit that it was because every time Castiel put his hands on him, his gut burns. He doesn’t want to admit that every time Castiel looked at him, he wanted to fall in his arms and kiss him senseless. He doesn’t want to admit any of this because he knew that there was no way in hell that Cas will ever like him back.
“Dean.” Castiel says sternly. “Look at me.”
Dean squeezes his eyes shut before resigning and looking over at his friend.
Instead of saying anything else, Castiel just stands back up. He looks down at Dean and offers his hand. “Put your point back on and get up.”
Dean looks from Castiel’s hand to his face. From the press of his mouth, Dean knew that there was no way he was going to win this argument. He takes his point slipper from out of his bag and slips it back down. He calmly fits his foot and laces it back up his leg. When he’s done, he looks back at Cas, whose expression has not changed. Dean looks at his hand again, this time taking Castiel’s hand.
Castiel’s face smooths out. “Now, we’re going to try this again.” He grabs Dean’s shoulders and turns his around. Goosebumps erupt over Dean’s shoulders from where Cas’s hands touch his skin, and his heat burns through Dean’s leotard. Dean takes in several breaths, trying not to panic again.
Suddenly, Cas is pressed all the way up against his back, his chin hooking on his shoulder, Cas’ mouth breathing against his ear. Dean’s breath catches as Cas grabs his hips with force and pulls them flush together.
“You can do this, Dean.” Cas whispers as his palm snakes over Dean’s thigh and pulls it into the starting position. Dean only barely suppressed his shiver and prevent himself from showing Cas how he’s enjoying this too much.
“There’s no music, Cas.” Dean chokes out.
He feels Cas turn his face even closer to his face. “We don’t need music, Dean.”
Slowly, Castiel begins to move Dean from position to position, leading him in the dance that they created together. Castiel’s hands over his body and his words of encouragement flow over him and Dean wills himself to loose his body in the sensations of dance. His toes burn as Cas bends and turns him in fluid motions, and Dean lets himself go. He pretends that Cas really does love him back, that they’re on stage together. That this is their debut together.
From how Cas pulls him back and forth, from how Cas’s hands slip and manuver him with just delicacy and grace, Dean wonders if Cas might actually like him to. And when Cas bends him into the final dip, Dean opens his eyes to find Cas’s eyes as wide as saucers.
“That was perfect…” Cas compliments, his arms pulling Dean just a little bit closer, his hand wrapped around Dean’s thigh. As if he realizes this he becomes still.
“Dean…” His name slips out of Cas’s mouth like a gasp. He likes me back.
“Cas…” Dean says just as softly.
Cas breaths heavily against him, chest heaving, and Dean is suddenly very aware of how very close they are. He almost misses it when Cas’s gaze slips down and rests on his mouth before it meets his eyes again.
“Cas…” Dean keens again. “Please, please…”
“What, Dean?” Cas asks, his eyes searching Dean’s, irises flinging back and forth.
“Kiss me.”
Cas lets out a soft whining sound before hooking his hands into Dean’s hair and pulling their mouths together.
And five years later, their debut on Broadway as married couple ends in the same exact way.