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Stargazing

Summary:

“I’ll be around,” Jack said serenely, as though he weren’t breaking Dean’s heart even further. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain, every speck of dust that the wind blows, and in the sand, in the rocks, and the sea.”
Dean let out a shaky breath. “It’s a hell of a time to bail, man.”

“I’m not bailing, I promise. And I even got you a present.”

Dean’s heart was hammering at the borderline smug look on his kid’s face, not daring to hope. Not even when the voice, rich with gravel, rumbled from behind him.

“Hello, Dean.”

 

Castiel is back and Dean decides it's time for him and Cas to get away together and communicate already.

Notes:

Hi! Welcome to another finale fix-it fic, lol. This story was written for Amanda, who was lovely enough to donate to the Destiel Aid: Raffle for Palestine, and requested some in-love-but-not-together-yet Dean and Cas going outside and enjoying spring/summer hike, and a possible storm. I fell in love with that scenario, and here we are, lol.

All Enochian in this fic comes from The Complete Enochian Dictionary. Translations will be in the end chapter notes.

(p.s. This fic is legible because of EllenofOz. Thanks for the beta work, ily, friend )

I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Text

Take my heart, don't break it

Love me to my bones

All this time I've wasted

You were right there all along

You and I stargazin'

Intertwinin' souls

We were never strangers

You were right there all along

 

-Stargazing by Myles Smith



 

-Hastings Minnesota

 

Dean was tired all the way down to his bones. He was probably as weak and weary as Chuck, after Jack Avatar’ed his ass Aang style, leaving him powerless. Jack, for his part, looked completely at peace, as he restored earth’s settings, once empty streets teeming with life again, under the morning sunshine.

Beside him, Sam cleared his throat, getting Jack’s attention.

“You gonna come back with us to the bunker?”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, the thought of losing someone else, his son, and his last connection to Cas, unacceptable. “Of course he’s gonna come back to the bunker. He’s the man with the plan. He’s the top dog,” Dean rambled. “He can do whatever he wants now. Come on. You know what? We’ll spruce the place up. We’ll get some recliners. We’ll get you one of those big screen TVs like down in the Dean cave.”

Jack smiled. “Dean, I’m not coming back home. In a way…I’m already there.”

Dean furrowed his brow. The hell hippy dippy shit was this? “Where?”

“Everywhere,” Jack said, as though that explained it all.

“So you are him,” Sam said, apparently catching on faster than Dean.

Jack shrugged, almost sheepish. “I’m me. But I know what you mean.”

“What if we want to see you?” Sam pleaded. “You know, or have a beer or whatever?”

“I’ll be around,” Jack said serenely, as though he weren’t breaking Dean’s heart even further. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain, every speck of dust that the wind blows, and in the sand, in the rocks, and the sea.”

Dean let out a shaky breath. “It’s a hell of a time to bail, man.”

“I’m not bailing, I promise. And I even got you a present.”

Dean’s heart was hammering at the borderline smug look on his kid’s face, not daring to hope. Not even when the voice, rich with gravel, rumbled from behind him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, briefly, before spinning around, finding Castiel standing before him.

For a moment, Dean couldn’t breathe. Even as Sam whooped next to him, stepping forward to give Cas a hug, Dean held his breath. Castiel’s eyes bored into his, from over Sam’s shoulder, and Dean held the gaze, letting the angel’s calm blue stare settle him, sucking him into a lockdown as familiar as breathing. Finally, he found his words, though they were somewhat breathless, as he spoke.

 “Heya, Cas. You okay?” The question seemed inadequate, but it was what he had.

“I’m more human than angel, right now, but I will be okay,” Castiel said.

Dean’s hands clenched into fists by his sides, hard enough that he knew they would ache when he uncurled them, but he couldn’t release. All he wanted to do was haul Cas into his arms, and instead, he was frozen, close enough to reach out, but paralyzed from doing so.

Beside him, Sam chuckled, “Okay, I don’t know about you guys, but I’d like to get on the road. I need to find Eileen. Cas, I assume you’re coming with us? At least until your mojo is fully functioning again?” Sam asked. 

The thought of having to share his time with Cas when they had so much shit they needed to talk about was unacceptable. Taking a deep breath, and trying to sound confident, Dean answered his brother.

“You go on ahead without us. Find Eileen. Cas and I are gonna go away for a couple of days.”

For a moment, there was silence, and Dean fought not to lower his gaze under the weight of his brother’s stare.

“You are?” Sam asked, and he’d be damned if there wasn’t amusement in Sam’s tone.

Dean could feel the heat of Castiel's gaze on him and Dean didn't have to look at him to know that he was being studied. Still, Dean couldn’t resist, and yeah; there Cas stood, blue eyes thoughtful and shrewd. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, wetting his lips before stammering, "You uh, you said once that you hadn't seen The Devil’s Kettle since its creation,” Dean said, remembering how fondly Cas had spoken of the small, unusual waterfall the last time they had driven through Minnesota. “We could drive out there,  find a hotel. Nicer than our usual, stay a few days…” Dean's face was flaming and he could feel Sam watching him, but it was worth it for the softness in Cas' eyes, as he listened to Dean stumble through. He would make the effort.

“You would like to go sightseeing with me,” Castiel deadpanned, revealing nothing of what he thought about Dean’s random, out-of-character proposal.

"We could hike out there to the falls, and you could, I don't know, see how it stacks up to memory. Or something else. I don’t care. I just want… I just want some time with you." Dean finished lamely, grateful Sam hadn’t laughed out loud at Dean’s rambling.

Slowly came the gentle curve of Cas' smile and Dean let out a sigh of relief.

“I would enjoy that, Dean. Thank you for remembering, and thinking of me.”

When am I not thinking of you , is what floated through Dean’s mind. Their gazes held, Castiel looking completely unruffled, almost serene, even though the last time he’d seen Dean was during a tearful love confession that filled and shattered his heart all at once. Castiel looked smooth, confident, even, as he stared at Dean like he could still see his soul. A stark contrast to the kaleidoscope of butterflies that were currently winging their way through Dean’s chest, making it hard for him to speak at all without stammering like a teenager with their first crush.

Castiel loved him. Like, love-loved him and Dean still couldn’t quite believe it.  

Dean was startled when Sam cleared his throat, although Cas’ observation of him remained steady.  Dean’s eyes flew to his brother, hair in all its floppy glory and a smirk on his stupid, knowing face, and Jack, tight next to him, mirroring the expression.

"Yeah, I'm still here," Sam said, not hiding his amusement, and Dean leveled him with a look that dared him to be a smartass. “You gonna drop me at the bunker first so I can grab a vehicle?”

“I’m sure Jack can bring you,” Dean said, looking at the young God he used to eat Krunch Cookie Crunch with every morning, and trying not to feel bitter. “Before you’re one with the blades of grass or whatever,” he snarked.

Jack only smiled, an indulgent expression so reminiscent of Castiel, that Dean scowled.

“Don’t be mad, Dean,” Jack said softly. “You’re still my family.”

Dean rolled his stinging eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he griped, even as he pulled Jack to him in a hug. He could see over Jack’s shoulder, Cas looking on fondly.

Jack stepped back, and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You two have fun,” his brother said, barely concealing his glee.

“Castiel, I’ll speak with you soon regarding your decision,” Jack said, and his words held a gravity that had something like lead settling in Dean’s stomach.

“What decision?” he asked, eyes darting between Castiel’s face and Jack’s, though neither one of them betrayed anything.

“I won’t change my mind, Jack,” Castiel said, ignoring Dean’s question.

Jack glanced at Dean, expression innocent as ever.

“I don’t expect you will,” he said, before raising his hand. “Goodbye.”

In a blink, Jack and Sam were gone, leaving Dean and Castiel alone for the first time since the dungeon.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Cas?” Dean had to fight the urge to hold his breath, as he waited for a response.

“As Jack told you, heaven will not be interfering on earth anymore.”

Dean nodded, even though he still wasn’t sure he understood where Cas was going with this. “Yeah, not butting in, Jack said.”

Castiel stepped forward. “No butting in means no visitation. At all. Jack wants all angels to stay in heaven; we have walked amongst you for too long as it is.”

The words Cas was saying all sounded right, angels had interfered for too long, but something about it was wrong. The pit of his stomach was telling him so, but it was like Dean’s brain was refusing to let him connect the dots.

No angels on earth.

I’ll speak with you soon regarding your decision , Jack had said. What decision?

“What decision, Cas?” Dean said, voicing his thoughts, mouth dry as dust.

“The decision on whether I will return to heaven, or remain in this human-esque state forever.” It was said succinctly, as though Cas was choosing between going to the beach or the mountains and Dean couldn’t catch his breath because what was he supposed to say to that? Ask Cas to give up immortality to slum it on Earth with Dean? Castiel was watching him now, calculating, as if he was trying to read Dean’s mind and he wondered if Castiel’s ability to sense longing like a prayer was as MIA as his mojo. He sure as hell hoped so, since Dean was sure that the cacophony of heartache and bitterness would have been easy to sense, as Dean felt like it was leaching out of his pores. Still, he drew in a shaky breath, and pasted a wide smile on his face, and said, even as his heart crumbled to dust, “Then let's make this the best sightseeing trip a temporarily human angel ever had.”

Castiel’s brows furrowed and for a minute it looked like he wanted to say something, and then, a knowing glint came into his eyes and his features smoothed out. He was looking at Dean with an odd combination of affection and exasperation, and Dean wondered what he’d done now. Before he could ask, Castiel was heading towards the parked Impala, trenchcoat fabric swishing softly. He looked over his shoulder at Dean, brow arched in a way that Dean had seen many times in his dreams, and said, ”Are we leaving now? ”

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, buddy, let’s go.”

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, Dean strode after Castiel, to the comfort of his Baby.

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text





Castiel didn’t need to have his grace to feel the hum of nerves thrumming off of Dean as they cruised down the highway. He had missed it, Castiel admitted as he shifted in his seat. The rumble of the road, feeling it vibrate up from the floor of the car, through the soles of his sensible shoes, coursing through legs to his thighs and buttocks, along his spine as he settled back into warm, worn-in leather. 

Castiel unapologetically gazed upon Dean’s profile; the tight set of his jaw, the way a flush crept up his neck, telling Castiel that Dean could feel the weight of his stare. Similar, he mused, to the weight of the chain around Castiel’s neck, holding his grace hidden beneath his Oxford shirt. It pulsed, warm against his skin, more so, if Castiel was not mistaken, by his proximity to Dean. Cas’ grace, he liked to think, had a love affair with Dean soul, for how often it's been privileged enough to hold it; through the fires of hell, entwined like ivy wrapped around an evergreen, wrapping around muscle and tissue to heal hurts and bruises. Castiel’s grace would have recognized Dean’s soul, even if it were hidden in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. 

“You, uh, you okay over there,” Dean said, glancing away from the road for a moment to meet Cas’ stare. “Awful quiet.”

Castiel merely smiled. “I was just thinking,” he said, back to studying the curve of Dean's jaw, noticing a freckle added by the sun. He was absurdly irritated that it hadn't been made by him.

“‘Bout what?”

“Galaxies,” he said softly, and he saw Dean’s mouth purse, before he shook his head, whatever question he was pondering discarded. 

“Well, you wanna put some music on, if you're in a musing mood? S’too quiet for me.”

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel said, hiding a smirk when Dean let out a squeak of surprise when he pulled a familiar mixtape out of his trenchcoat pocket and popped it in the cassette player. Once again, Castiel settled back into his seat, as the familiar strums of “Tangerine” began.

“I trust this is acceptable?” Castiel asked, watching as Dean’s tongue poked out to wet his bottom lip. Again, his eyes flitted from the highway to Cas’ steady gaze.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said, voice just a bit breathless. “This is perfect.”

The longer they drove the more settled Dean seemed to be and Castiel was relieved for it. He didn't know how long it would last; his dearest friend still seemed to be in shock, as though Dean still couldn't believe Castiel was here but was going to go along with it anyway. It was okay. Reality would hit sooner or later and Castiel would be there to piece Dean back together when his fake it till you make it facade finally shattered.

They were nearly at the end of the first side of the cassette when Castiel's stomach grumbled loudly. He looked down at himself in surprise, and next to him, Dean chuckled.

“Forgot that part about being human, huh?” Dean asked, giving him a sideways glance and Castiel nodded sheepishly.

“Apparently I did. I suppose that also means urination is in my future,” he said dejectedly, making Dean laugh harder.

“I think there’s a diner off the next exit. Let's get you some dinner.”

 

The diner was nondescript, boasting red and white Formica booths and a laminated menu. It was clean, though, and Castiel had to admit the scent of sizzling meat was making his hunger more pronounced. Dean, of course, looked right at home in the roadside restaurant, having frequented them more than any person ever should in their lifetime.

As they sat in the booth, they mirrored each other, arms folded on the table. It hadn’t escaped Castiel’s notice that Dean hadn’t touched him since he returned. Not once. His eyes, however, did not leave Castiel’s form, green flecked with gold flitting over him, torso to brow, as if taking him all in and not knowing where to settle. Castiel could try to reassure him, of course, but knew it would only make Dean defensive. No, the only thing that would make Dean open up would be time. Time and patience, and proof that Castiel was not going anywhere.

Castiel hid a smile as Dean visibly jumped at the waitress's sudden appearance at their table, knowing that neither of them had even looked at the menu.

Dean ordered a coffee and Castiel ordered milk, which earned him a soft chuckle, and Castiel arched a brow.

“It does a body good,” he deadpanned.

Their waitress, a pretty redhead with a wide smile, looked at him and said, “It certainly does.”

Castiel’s mouth dropped open, wordless and Dean cleared his throat, offering a tight smile, and asked, glancing at her name tag, “We need a few more minutes, Molly.”

Shaking his head, Dean picked up his menu. “Look at you. Human five minutes and the ladies are already falling at your feet.”

It was on the tip of Castiel’s tongue to say, The only one I have fallen for is you , but he kept it to himself, and shrugged as if to say, what can you do ?

It had the desired effect and Dean laughed.

“Come on, Casanova, what are you gonna get? It’s been a long time since food hasn’t tasted like molecules for you. What’s it gonna be?  And you can’t say peanut butter and jelly,” Dean said sternly, pointing a finger at him.

Castiel rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath, “I like peanut butter and jelly,” as he perused the menu.

Molly came back with their drinks, seeming to have taken the hint that Castiel was not interested, her smile professional now as she took their order.

Castiel frowned when Dean ordered the chicken fried steak meal, choosing a steak tip salad for himself.

“What?” Dean asked over his coffee cup. “Why are you being all squinty-scowly at me?”

“I’m just realizing that now that I am human, I’ll no longer be able to clean your arteries. Perhaps it’s time to change your diet.” Castiel cocked his head, “You should start running with Sam.” 

Dean just goggled at him as Castiel took a big swig of milk. Cold and delicious, and not a molecule to be tasted.

“You used to clean out my arteries?” Dean asked in a whisper-yell and Castiel nodded.

“Yes, regularly,” he said, taking another sip from his glass.

Dean sighed in exasperation and Castiel held his breath, as Dean reached out, sweeping his thumb over Castiel’s top lip.

Eyes locking, thumb still hovering over Castiel’s mouth, Dean stammered, “Milk mustache.”

Going to lower his hand, Castiel’s hand snatched Dean’s wrist, holding him hostage.

 “I’m not going to break, Dean,” Castiel said and Dean let out a strangled laugh. His eyes, Castiel noticed, were just a bit wild.

“Yeah, but I might.”

Molly returned and Castiel released Dean’s wrist, stomach once again making itself known as sizzling meat on a bed of greens was set before him. Across from him, was Dean’s chicken fried steak, with mashed potatoes under a pool of gravy. Looking back at his salad, Castiel sighed in defeat.

“Something wrong?” Molly asked and Castiel shook his head. 

“No. But could I also get a side of fries?”

Dean laughed loudly as Molly jotted down the order and walked away, promising to bring them right out.

“Guess you’ll be running with Sam, too,” Dean said and dug into his meal.

Molly returned a few minutes later with Cas’ order and he ignored Dean’s snicker, and eagerly bit into a piping hot fry. Castiel scrolled his phone as he ate, perusing hotels near The Devil’s Kettle. He bypassed the alcohol-free Naniboujou lodge and the Hungry Hippie farm and hostel for a quaint motel called the Outpost. Holding out his hand, Castiel asked Dean for his credit card.

Wordlessly, but with narrowed eyes, Dean fished a credit card out of his wallet and handed it over and Castiel plucked it out of Dean’s fingers with a grin. Ignoring all of the double rooms, Castiel opted for the king-sized cottage style, with a balcony overlooking Lake Superior. He booked the room for 3 days, before handing the card back to Dean, his face a mask of innocence.

“Our room is booked,” Castiel said, dipping a fry into the blue cheese dressing on his salad, ignoring Dean’s grimace. “But it occurs to me that I have no clothes other than what I am wearing,” Castiel frowned as a glob of dressing plopped onto his dependable trench. 

Dean wiped his face with a napkin, dropping it on top of his now-empty plate. 

“I guess we’re finding a Walmart.”

It was late by the time Castiel and Dean walked into their hotel room. Despite nearly everyone Castiel caring about having an unhealthy obsession with plaid, Cas had found he was drawn to softer fabrics. Dean set two Walmart bags, one filled with snacks, the other housing Cas’ new sweaters and pants, down on one of the chairs. Castiel set down another bag containing a new pair of boots, socks, underwear, and a toothbrush. Castiel watched as Dean’s eyes widened, taking in the spacious room, more specifically, the king-sized bed.

Dean turned to him, looking overwhelmed and a little lost and Castiel took pity on him.

“Dean?” he began, quietly, slipping off his shoes. “Don’t over think it. Let’s get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.”

Dean looked from Cas to the bed and back to Cas again, mouth opening as if to speak, then closing on a frown. Castiel, for his part, kept his face a careful mask as he stripped down to his undershirt and boxers. When Dean continued to stand, motionless, Castiel arched a brow.

“What?”

Dean nodded towards Castiel’s chest. “You’re kinda glowing,” he said and Castiel gave a soft chuckle, tugging out the chain holding his grace. Dean’s eyes widened in understanding. 

Castiel tucked his grace back under his shirt. “Are you going to sleep in your jeans and your boots?” Castiel asked, tone suggesting how ridiculous it would be and Dean floundered for a minute.

“So, we’re, uh, we’re just going to share?”

Castiel walked over to the right side of the bed, closest to the bathroom. He turned back the bedcovers.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Castiel asked, waiting Dean out, who after a beat, shook his head no, and began to undress. Castiel slipped under the covers, purposefully avoiding Dean’s eyes so as to give him the illusion of privacy.

Dean ducked into the bathroom and Castiel heard the water running. Thinking Dean might relax better with some distraction, Castiel turned on the television, at a low volume, and flipped off the lights. The room was cast in a comforting blue glow, and Castiel smiled in satisfaction. It was not unlike when Dean would make him watch the historically inaccurate Western movies on his laptop, sometimes propped up on Dean’s bed, sometimes side by side in the recliners in the Dean cave. The only difference tonight was that instead of just watching Dean sleep, Castiel would join him. Instead of pretending he hadn’t felt Dean’s longing for years, he would relish in it, content to let it simmer until Dean could use his words. They were on the tip of his friend's tongue, Castiel could tell. He didn’t have to be mojo’d up to be able to read Dean. He was a volcano on the verge of eruption. Castiel could see it, behind his eyes and the careful way he’d held himself since their reunion. Since he’d learned of Castiel’s choice to stay or go.

Dean was terrified and too self-sacrificing for his own good. Castiel had no doubt that Dean was telling himself that asking Castiel to stay would be selfish, because despite Castiel dying for him, Dean still didn’t believe he deserved to be saved, or was worthy of Castiel’s unconditional love.

By the time Dean exited the bathroom, Castiel had settled on a random music station. He set the TV timer for twenty-five minutes and put the remote on his nightstand next to his phone and wallet.

Castiel lay on the bed, watching Dean as he came around to the other side, only pausing briefly before slipping in next to him. Side by side, they faced each other, cheeks pressed into pillows, faces bathed in flickering blue light.

 

And I hold you every night

And that's a feeling I wanna get used to

But there's no man as terrified

As the man who stands to lose you

 

“Cas…” Dean stuttered out, voice sounding high-pitched and strained.

 

Oh, I hope I don’t lose you, Mm

 

Castiel held out his hand, palm open on the mattress, and Dean grabbed it, like a lifeline, fingers laced, tightly.

“Breathe, Dean,” Castiel murmured in the soft space between them, and Dean exhaled, shakily.

 

Please stay

I want you, I need you, oh God

Don't take

These beautiful things that I've got

 

“I’m afraid to close my eyes,” Dean confessed and Castiel inched a little closer, until his knees nudged Dean’s under the comforter. “I’m afraid when I wake up you’ll be gone.” The words were barely a whisper and Castiel watched as a single tear dripped and rolled down the freckles on Dean’s nose. Castiel knew he’d forever mourn seeing Dean’s soul, but in moments like these, where Dean let himself be vulnerable, Castiel could still feel it, in the softening of his edges. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cas breathed out. “I promise. Sleep now, Dean. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Dean’s breath shuddered out and he nodded, letting his eyes slip close. “Night, Cas.”

 

Please stay

I want you, I need you, oh God

I need

These beautiful things that I've got

 

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand, and let his own eyes fall shut, the call of sleep too strong to be avoided. “Sweet dreams, Dean.”

Notes:

song lyrics : Beautiful things by Bensen Boone

Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sleeping Cas was a lot different from comatose angel Cas, who didn’t move and looked still as death. Sleeping Cas snored. Not loud, sawing wood snores, but little soft snuffles that were currently tickling the back of his neck. And the reason they were tickling the back his neck was that aside from being a snorer, Castiel, temporary human angel of the lord, was an octopus in his sleep. Dean had woken up to warm huffs of air in his ear, an arm thrown across his chest, and a muscled leg draped over his thigh. It was heaven and hell all at once, because having Cas and his sleep-warmed body wrapped around him was every bit as damn good as Dean imagined it would be. Cas smelled like a stormy day, like sea salt and petrichor, and if he let it, Dean could become addicted.  He better not get used to it. With a lump in his throat, Dean carefully slid out from underneath Castiel, holding his breath the whole while, and not releasing it until he was in the bathroom. Hands braced on the counter looking down at the marbled sink, Dean squeezed his stinging eyes shut. “Alright, alright,” he muttered to himself. “Button it up.”

Cas was still asleep when Dean slipped out of the bathroom to grab clothes out of his duffel, only now he had starfished across the bed, arms wrapped around Dean’s pillow. 

Dean got dressed, and brushed his teeth, and left Cas snoring away, to go down to the lobby, following the signs to the continental breakfast. Spying breakfast sandwiches and coffee, Dean grabbed one of the cafeteria style trays and filled it up with sandwiches, fruit salad that Cas might appreciate, some muffins and two cups of coffee, creamer and sugar packets on the side. Spying a rack with brochures, Dean set his tray down, and grabbed one with a picture of The Devil’s Kettle on top of it.  He tucked it into his back pocket, and picked up his tray again, and took the elevator back up to the room. Bracing the edge of the tray against his stomach and the wall, he dug the key card out of his shirt pocket, door locks clicking when he scanned the card.

Cas was just sitting up in bed when Dean manuevered his way in the door.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean said, grinning as Cas blinked up at him owlishly, his messy dark hair half flattened to his head, the other half up in tufts. The urge to run his fingers idly through the soft tresses was strong, and he picked up the tray again to occupy his hands.

Castiel let out a jaw cracking yawn, and interlocked his hands, pushing them up towards the ceiling in a stretch. Dean’s eyes danced from bicep, to clavicle, to jawline, to plush pink lips, to the soft blue eyes that were watching him with amused affection. Dean felt a flush of heat, and knew he was blushing. 

“I’m gonna bring this out on the balcony. We got a pretty great view of the lake. Go get dressed so I can introduce you to bacon, egg, and cheese on croissants.”

Dean turned around, using his elbow to shove open the slider before Cas could get out of bed in nothing but his teeshirt and boxer shorts. That would have rendered Dean embarrassingly speechless.

How was it that he could smooth talk any girl with confidence, but being around his best friend, who he knew, without a doubt, loved him, alcohol and daddy issues and all, could make him feel so unsteady? 

It was warm on the sunbaked balcony, nearly seventy with a light breeze, perfect hiking weather, and Dean flipped through the brochure on his tray as he sipped his coffee. Looked like the hike would be about a mile, a combination of dirt paths and steep stairs. 

Dean sat back in his chair and admired the view. Lake Superior flowed, wide and rippling in the soft gusts of wind and Dean let the sight lull him into a sense of peace, however temporary.

Dean was halfway through his sandwich when Castiel made his way out on the balcony, hair shower-damp and wearing a white undershirt and a navy colored sweater. He sat down across from Dean, looking pleased with his surroundings. Castiel lifted his coffee to his lips, no doubt luke warm by now, but his satisfied sigh said he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s quite beautiful here, isn’t it?” Castiel murmured, eyes on the lake and trees.

“Yeah, it ain’t a bad view,” Dean replied, eyes on Cas’ profile. Cas, as though sensing Dean’s stare, turned, catching his gaze, and held it. It should have been uncomfortable, with anyone else it would be, but with them, it was almost their own language. The soft set of Cas’ downturned eyes, the barest hint of a smile in the corner of the angel’s mouth, it told him that he was indulging Dean. That he knew there were words Dean wanted to say, and Cas’ relaxed, unhurried posture, told him he had all the time in the world.

Except he didn’t. His time was limited, and soon Cas would return to heaven, and Dean would have to learn to live without him. The reminder was like a sucker punch, and his hand shook slightly as he shoved Cas’ plate in front of it.

“Eat before it gets too cold,” Dean said and Cas grinned at him, before picking up the breakfast sandwich and taking a hearty bite. The hum of approval Cas made was a little bit sinful and Dean wondered if it was weird to be jealous of a sandwich.

“So I was reading up, it’s only a mile hike, but there’s lots of stairs, so we should pack some water and food. Especially since you can’t mojo away any dehydration,” Dean said, teasingly. “Hey, maybe I’ll actually see you sweat,” Dean said then immediately regretted it when the fucker had the nerve to smirk, brow arched all haughty, and since when were eyebrows fucking sexy?

“Perhaps,” Castiel said. “I did notice downstairs when we came in that there was a sign at the concierge desk that said to inquire about their hiking lunch packages.”

 

They finished their breakfast fairly quickly after that, and both seemed to be feeling a sudden sense of urgency. At the front desk, Castiel asked about the lunch packages and was handed a complimentary cooler sack with the hotel’s logo on the side. Inside were four bottles of water, trail mix, granola bars, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a fact which unleashed one of Cas’ rare full-bloom smiles and Dean knew the angel was already looking forward to lunch.

 

The parking lot for the Devil’s Kettle trails was at the Judge C.R. Magney State Park, which was only ten miles from their hotel. It was barely a ten minute drive, and after a quick stop at the ranger station to pick up a parking permit.

 

“It looks nice out for now, but the weather service did warn there could be thunderstorms this afternoon, so if the sky starts to get dark, make sure you head back down,” the ranger warned.  “Cell service is spotty and if you get stuck somewhere or wander off from the trail, we might not be able to answer you.”

 

Dean and Castiel both cast doubtful looks at the sky; clear blue and sunny, with not a cloud in sight. 

“We’ll be sure to pay attention, ma’am,” Dean said, respectfully, and beside him Cas nodded. 

There was an unspoken agreement to wait on any heavy topics of conversation until they reached the falls. Climbing two hundred stairs wasn’t conducive to easy breezy conversation, and the families and other couples milling about weren’t exactly appealing either.

The climb took them about a half an hour, and Dean was panting slightly when they reached the top. “You know, with all the running away from monsters I do, this should not be as exerting as it is.”

Castiel, for his part, seemed perfectly fine, and Dean scowled. “Why aren’t you winded?” he whined as Castiel shrugged. 

“If it makes you feel better, my brow is a little damp,” he said, pushing his hair back so Dean could see his forehead.

“You’re such a dork,” Dean said, pulling Cas next to him so he could take a selfie, with the falls behind them. They smiled at the camera, Cas’ hair on end and Dean pink cheeked and Dean knew that no matter what happened, this moment was one he would hold on to.

“Where the hell does the water go?” Dean asked, as they watched the cascading water. “It’s not part of the lake, right?”

“No, we’re above the lake. The water is from the Brule river,” Castiel explained. “It splits at that outcropping of volcanic rock.”

“Yeah, but where does it go? “ Dean asked again, as they stared at the falls. One section fell, like a typical waterfall, but the section above it, disappeared into what looked like a huge pothole in the rock, only it didn’t come out the bottom.

 

“The east side of the river falls fifty feet into that pool in front of us, “ Castiel explained. “But the water on the west side falls into a hole in the rock and vanishes,” he said mysteriously. “There long have been stories about visitors throwing everything from GPS trackers to colored dyes and ping pong balls into the hole, waiting for it to come out at the bottom, only to be disappointed."

Castiel seemed amused and Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you fooled the humans, now where the hell does it go? Don’t tell me hell,” Dean said sternly and Castiel laughed.

“No. No, it goes underground and emerges immediately downstream at the falls.”

“Why’d you name this place the Devil’s Kettle, anyway?” Dean teased, shooting Castiel a sideways glance.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You know very well that humans gave it that name, not me.”

Dean snickered. “Okay, well, then what did you call it?”

“You’re asking me to remember what I nicknamed something I created nearly 1.1 billion years ago, Dean,” Castiel said, and holy fuck if that wasn’t a mind trip.

“Jesus Christ, Cas, what the hell are you doing here with me,” the words slipped out without thought and Castiel tilted his head, puzzled.

“I don’t know what you mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing, nevermind.”

“No, not nevermind. Come on. Come with me.”

Castiel said, walking around the edge of the pool carefully, and Dean followed close behind.

“Where are we going?” Dean asked but either the falls were too loud or Cas was deliberately ignoring him, Dean wasn’t sure.

Castiel led them up a path parallel to the falls. It was a steep climb and Dean hoped that Castiel had a clear destination in mind. When they got to the top the ground leveled out and was thick with trees and rock. One such cluster of rock up ahead appeared to be Castiel’s destination, because he stopped beside it, then stepped to the left and disappeared.

Dean’s eyes widened, and he called out Cas’ name, panicked, rushing towards the rock cluster, stuttering to a stop when Castiel popped back out, laughing.

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean said, reaching the angel who took him by the hand, pulling him through the rock. Or at least it appeared that way. In reality, it was a narrow tunnel through the rock. “If you’re leading me through the Paths of the Dead, I swear on our son,” Dean warned, teasingly. 

“Thanks to Charlie, I understood that reference,” Castiel said as he dragged Dean behind him. It was a bit of a tight fit, but Dean trusted Cas so he squeezed his hand and allowed himself to be tugged the rest of the way through. Dean’s mouth fell open in shock when the tunnel opened up into a wide circular cavern. When Dean looked up, he saw open sky, and the ground he was standing on was damp and spongy with moss. But what captivated his attention the most was the hot spring in the middle. Layered rock, almost like stairs, led into the water, which was clear all the way to the bottom, and sparkling under the shaft of sunlight streaming in from the opening above.

“I never really gave a name to the falls,” Castiel said, “but this place, I called nobeloha. It means, the palm of my hand , because that’s what I created it out of.”

“Wow,” was about all Dean could manage but it was  laced with enough awe for Castiel to lift his chin up, a proud expression on his face.

“For the record, I am here with you, because I love you,” Castiel said, serenely and Dean whipped his gaze to the angel’s and found him leaning casually against the wall of rock, arms folded across his chest, looking at him with a softness that Dean didn’t think he’d ever feel worthy of.

Oh . So they were doing this now, Dean realized. With a sigh, Dean let the backpack holding their lunch cooler slip off of his back and onto the ground.

“Is this water safe, or is it gonna boil me alive?” Dean asked, and though obviously puzzled at Dean’s segue, Cas answered.

“It’s safe.”

Dean untied his laces and took off his boots, followed by his socks, which he rolled up to stuff into them. He rolled up his jeans to his shins, as far as he could get them to go, and carefully settled himself on the rock steps, letting his feet sink into the warm water. Dean looked up at Cas, expectantly, patting the spot next to him. Castiel wordlessly removed his own shoes and socks, rolling up his own cuffs, and joined Dean, sitting close enough that they were thigh to thigh, ankle to ankle under the water.

Dean turned his head and looked at Cas head on.

“I love you, too,” Dean said simply. “You know I do, there’s no way you couldn’t feel it, not when you, what was it you said once?” Dean cocked his head, “Hear longing like a prayer?” 

“You are very loud,” Castiel said dryly and Dean chuckled.

“You never said anything to me,” Dean said, not accusing, just matter of fact. “So I always kind of thought you were ignoring it. Sparing my feelings and all that. In purgatory, I tried to tell you—”

“If I had let you say it out loud, if you made it real, the Empty would have come for me, and we still had work to do,” Castiel said, softly and Dean nodded, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “You have to understand, Dean, it wasn’t your love that I knew I couldn’t have. It was us . With the greater good always at stake, I knew that there would never be time for us.”

“No, yeah, I get that, now, but at the time, it just reaffirmed what I had thought. That you loved me like family.”

“I do love you like family,” Castiel insisted. “And like a lover. I love you in all the ways a person can be loved,” he said, and Dean’s heart seemed to trip in his chest at the solemnly spoken words.

“Cas. I wanted to say it back, that day. I did, but it was like I was frozen. The words, they got stuck.” Dean shook his head, blinking back tears. Above them, Dean heard a rumble of thunder. It seemed like the ranger was right, as the sunlight that had just been shining into the cavern was gone now, replaced with darkening clouds. “And now Chuck is gone and you’re here and all I want to do is ask you to stay. To stay, and I don’t know, fucking retire with me. Buy a house on a lake with a fishing dock, go on an extended beach vacation,” Dean sniffed, not even realizing he was crying until Castiel reached over and thumbed away his tears. “But I can’t.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, hands still cradling his face. “Why? Just ask me, Dean,” Castiel said, gently and Dean’s breath hitched in his chest.

“Cas, I can’t ask you to give up immortality for me,” Dean said, jolting as a crack of thunder sounded, and rain began to fall, making the hot spring jump, as raindrops plunked the surface.

Castiel rose next to him and for a terrible moment, Dean thought he was leaving, but instead, Cas held out his hand, and Dean took it, allowing himself to be pulled up and out of the rain. Castiel crowded Dean against the cavern wall, and when lightning flashed, creating shadows in their sanctuary, Dean could have sworn he saw Cas’ wings.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, hands caging Dean against the rock, chest to chest, and close enough to share breath. “Tell me what good immortality is, if you’re not there for me to love you?”

The words stole his breath, and then so did Cas’ lips. Cas kissed Dean like he was drowning and Dean was his air, like he was starving and all Castiel needed for sustenance was the taste of Dean on his tongue, and it was everything. Castiel kissed him like he was created for it, with a single-minded focus that had Dean trembling like the virgin he certainly wasn’t.

“Ask me,” Castiel said, voice ragged and demanding against Dean’s lips. “Ask me, Dean.”

Rain pelted against the spring loudly, but Dean was warm and dry against the wall as he clutched at Castiel, hands fisting in the back of his sweater, as he gave in and begged.

“Stay, Cas. Please. Stay with me forever.”

Geh ol boaluahe ,” Castiel growled against his lips, “ ol monons ,” he continued along Dean’s jaw, making his head tip back against the wall, “ ol balita ollor .” 

Dean didn’t have a clue what Cas’ was saying, but his body definitely approved of the guttural sound of Enochian words pressed into the hollow of his throat.

Dean gasped out loud when he felt Castiel’s deft fingers at the button of Dean’s jeans.

“Cas? What—?” 

“I want to make love to you, Dean,” Castiel said bluntly. “Slow and languorous, preferably in a bed,” he said and Dean melted because who the hell says sexy words like languorous? “But right now, I need something. I need a taste of what’s to come,” Castiel said, voice dark and thick like honeyed whiskey. Fingers, though, stayed still, even as his body vibrated with energy against Dean, waiting for consent.

This wasn’t like anything Dean imagined, in all of the fantasy scenarios of this happening. They weren’t in the backseat of the car, or on Baby’s hood. They weren’t on his soft memory foam mattress and thick pillows, or in a shared recliner in the Dean cave. No, instead they stood, mostly naked, having helped each other out of their shirts, to explore more thoroughly, in the shelter from a storm, pants around their ankles.  Dean’s ass was pressed against cool volcanic rock, and it was fucking heaven. Cas’ hands seemed to be everywhere at once, running down Dean’s chest, tweaking his nipples, then sliding down to grip his hips, thick thighs crowding in between Dean’s bowed legs. At the brush of Cas’ length against his own, Dean let out a juddering sigh. It was dark in their cavern now, save the flashes of lightning, but Dean could still see the gleam in Cas’ eyes, as they wordlessly rutted together. Cas’ cock felt thick and heavy against his, making him hiss in pleasure. As Cas’ fingers pressed bruises into his skin, Dean’s hands gripped his ass, tugging him in even closer,the heat of Cas’ vial of grace warm and pulsing against Dean’s chest. Cas claimed Dean’s mouth again as they rutted against each other, and soon the space between their bellies was slick with precum. When Cas let out a whimper against his mouth—a high reedy sound so different from his usual sandpaper and gravel, Dean knew he’d be hearing it in his dreams for the rest of his life.

It was humid in the cavern, from the rain and the heat of their bodies as they gyrated. The sounds of wet flesh and grunts of want and need echoed in the chamber, and Dean’s desperation only grew. When Cas’ mouth latched onto his neck, sucking and tonguing at the skin, Dean let out a long groan. He shoved a hand between them to grip their shafts together, and Castiel retaliated with a hard nip of his teeth that had him cursing.  

Ozazma niis , Dean,” Castiel voice was pleading. “Please, please. Make us come, Dean.”

It didn’t take long, with over a decade of build up, but it was still a shock to his system when he felt Castiel swell in his hand, spilling thick and heavy over his fist, and over the head of Dean’s cock, triggering his own release. 

“Dean, oh basadabasadabasada, ” Castiel panted into Dean’s neck, still thrusting against him. Dean, more rough than he meant to be, fisted his free hand in Cas’ hair, dragging his head up so he could see him, his blue eyes ringed in black and glazed in pleasure. 

“Fuck, I love you,” Dean breathed out, and Castiel lunged forward, taking his mouth in another sumptuous kiss. Dean still didn’t think he deserved Cas, but he couldn’t give him up. Not now, not after this. So he vowed to try his damndest to become worthy, even if it took the rest of their lifetimes.

“I love you, too,” Castiel said, dropping his damp brow against Dean’s with a sated sigh.

“Well, look at that,” Dean said with a dopey grin. “Turns out you do break a sweat. Ouch!” Dean exclaimed when Castiel pinched his nipple.

“You should show me some respect,” Castiel said teasingly, bracing himself on Dean as he kicked his pants all the way off. The storm was over and sunlight once again flooded the cavern, making the clear water sparkle. Dean watched with an appreciative eye as Castiel strode naked, save his necklace of grace, to the stone steps, and eased himself into the water.

“I’ll work on it,” Dean said, with a smile that he felt was going to be permanently etched on his face. He kicked off of his own pants and followed Castiel into the water.

 

Later that night, Cas made good on his promise, and they made slow, languorous love in the comfort of a warm bed. Dean wept silent tears on the crest and fall of his release, and Cas kissed them away, even as his own teardrops fell.

 

It had taken them so long to get here, too long, but that was then, and this was now, and for once, Dean wasn’t going to dwell on the pain of the past but the brightness of his future.  He would relish in the perfection of the present, being wrapped up together in the hotel comforter, stargazing on their balcony and making plans to come back in the summer. 

“Is this what it felt like?” Dean asked in wonder, head lolled back on Cas’ shoulder. A meteor shower was giving a show over the lake, but his eyes were all for Castiel.

“Is this what what felt like?”

“Your true happiness?” Dean whispered, and his heart galloped in his chest at Castiel’s beaming smile, his blue eyes liquid-soft with love.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Castiel whispered back, before settling his mouth over Dean’s.

Yes , he thought, eyes slipping closed, lips parting for the warmth of Cas’ tongue. 

Truly freaking amazing.  



Take my heart, don't break it

Love me to my bones

All this time I've wasted

You were right there all along

You and I stargazin'

Intertwinin' souls

We were never strangers

You were right there all along




The End

Notes:

Geh ol boaluahe: You are my love
Ol monons: my heart
Ol balita ollor: my righteous man
Niis: come
Ozazma niis: Make us come
Basada: Glory
Neboloha: Palm of my hand