Chapter Text
💙💙
“I’m in love with you.”
Castiel gasps the moment the words pass his lips, wishing he could pull them back into his body, making them disappear as he watches Dean’s eyes go wide. He covers his mouth with both hands, as if he could hold in any more damaging words, keep them from making their escape.
Dean makes his way over to the sofa, sinking into it before propping his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. It takes Castiel a moment to realize Dean is chuckling at him.
“I don’t understand,” Castiel says, not moving from his place in the middle of the living room. “I don’t – why are you – Dean, why are you laughing?” he asks, incredulous.
“I’m sorry, Cas, I don’t mean to make light of your confession like this, but I thought you were breaking up with me.” Dean turns a sardonic eye on Castiel before looking straight ahead at the dark TV. “I may not feel the same, but I love you too, Cas, in my own way. I’d be devastated to lose you.”
It takes Castiel a moment to understand what’s happening here. Dean isn’t mocking him. He’s not telling Cas to take a hike. In fact, he seems almost…pleased? Castiel stares at him, completely dumbfounded. What on Earth is Dean playing at? Does he think Castiel is joking? When Castiel doesn’t say anything for a moment, Dean finally looks at him again.
“Cas? Did I fuck up? I fucked this up, didn’t I?” Dean asks, the tone of his voice begging Castiel to tell him otherwise.
Castiel is still frozen inside his own head, still trying to process the fact that Dean’s not mad. It’s only when Dean looks down again, threads his fingers into his own hair and pulls – hard, from the look of it – that Castiel’s mouth decides to work.
“No, Dean, no. Of course you didn’t,” Cas reassures. He steps forward cautiously, untwining Dean’s fingers from his hair and holding them in his own hands.
Dean looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed and shining. Placing both of Dean’s hands in one of his own, Castiel runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, brushing it back into place. He watches as Dean’s eyes flutter closed and a pleased hum sounds low in his throat.
“You could just keep doing that forever,” Dean tells Castiel. “I wouldn’t mind.”
It’s tempting, even just to keep getting his hands on Dean. In the two months that they’ve been learning how to be soulmates, they haven’t hooked up at all. At first it was because they wanted to avoid messing up their growing friendship. Then at some point, it just became awkward to bring up. Lately, though, Castiel has been having all kinds of dreams about Dean that have him growing more intimately acquainted with his right hand than he has been in years.
He isn’t entirely sure that Dean’s not still visiting The Banked Flame, and the thought sets a sour feeling curdling in Castiel’s stomach. He hates the idea of Dean with other people, but he’s not certain he has any right to make that demand of the other man. After all, Dean isn’t the one who went and fell in love. He thinks about Dean’s request, running his hand through Dean’s drying hair. “Y’know, I would take you up on that, but to be honest the greaseball look doesn’t do much for me.”
Dean gasps, eyes flying open as he looks at Castiel who, for his part, is grinning madly at Dean.
“You fucker,” Dean seethes, though there’s no heat behind it. “You absolute fucker. Y’know, it’s not my fault you dropped an L-bomb on me without letting me shower first.”
Castiel would worry that Dean is upset, but he’s got a blinding smile shining right back at him. Feeling bold in the face of Dean’s acceptance, Castiel pushes the envelope just a little further.
“There’s nothing to say you can’t go have one right now,” he tells Dean. “Nothing at all is stopping you.” Castiel stands so close their knees nearly touch, raising one eyebrow as he stares down at Dean. He doesn’t know how he’s going to handle Dean being naked one room over, but if that’s what Dean wants, that’s what Dean gets. Castiel is completely gone on this man.
“You could, uh…you could join me if you wanted to? Save water?”
Dean’s suggestion sounds so innocent, but Castiel can’t help imagining all the things they could do together that absolutely would not conserve water. Along with his burgeoning romantic feelings, Castiel’s lust for Dean has grown exponentially, into something he can barely control. It’s almost physically painful not to touch him.
“I mean, I know we have a lot to talk about, but I think both of us could stand to clean up first. I’ll grab us some clothes, you go start the shower?” Dean asks.
A thrill goes through Castiel at the idea of wearing Dean’s clothes. No one else is going to see, but it makes Castiel feel like he belongs to Dean. He just wishes he knew if Dean belonged to him, too. He nods his agreement, then slowly backs away from where Dean’s sitting.
Turning at the last moment, Castiel slips into the bathroom, missing Dean’s presence already. He turns the tap in the shower, jumping back to get out of the cold spray before it hits him. It doesn’t take long, and soon enough the room is filling with steam. Castiel is just debating whether he should get naked and get in when the door opens, letting in a gust of cooler air. He’s grateful he’s still dressed.
“I know you’re a little bulkier than I am, so I grabbed you one of my larger shirts, and a pair of sweatpants. I hope they’ll fit,” Dean informs Castiel, playing idly with the sleeve of one of the shirts, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.
Now that they’re here, Castiel’s stomach is full of fluttering butterflies, nervous at being intimate with Dean again – if that’s even what Dean wants; Castiel doesn’t know. Taking a deep breath, he decides to use his words.
“What are we–” he starts. “I mean…” Castiel groans, not knowing what to say.
“Hey, if you’re gonna keep making those noises, maybe we should get under the water,” Dean suggests with a wink. Then in one swift move, he’s got his sweaty t-shirt up and over his head, depositing it on the bathroom floor. “Now you,” he tells Castiel.
Nimble fingers find the hem of Castiel’s shirt, and then suddenly he can’t see as it’s lifted up. Dean coaxes him to raise his arms, shucking Castiel’s shirt in one more easy move. Somehow, even though they’re still half dressed, it’s the sexiest thing that’s happened to him in months. It doesn’t take long before those same fingers are fumbling with the drawstring of Castiel’s running shorts.
“Let – let me,” Castiel breathes, replacing Dean’s hands with his own. “You just…get naked.”
The next thirty seconds are a fumbling mess until both men are completely bared to each other. He’s grateful to discover that Dean is just as affected as Castiel is, cock bobbing heavily between his legs. Castiel feels his own fill out more just at the sight of Dean’s delicious body.
“We should– we should probably get in,” Castiel suggests after a moment of just staring at each other.
Dean nods, then gestures for Castiel to lead the way. Sliding the glass door open, Castiel steps into the hot spray of the shower, reaching out to tug Dean along with him.
The moment the door closes, it’s like all bets are off. Dean’s hands are suddenly everywhere on Castiel’s body, leaving him to try and catch up. It’s heady and exhilarating, and he absolutely has to get his hands on Dean, too. The water cascading over Dean’s body makes the glide of hands easier, nearly overwhelming Castiel with the miles of bare skin that he can touch. He leans into Dean, pressing their chests together and bringing their lips within an inch of each other.
“May I kiss you?” Castiel asks, feeling the soft puff of air against his face when Dean reacts.
He feels more than sees Dean’s nod as suddenly their lips connect in a blaze of fireworks. It’s exactly the same, yet entirely different from the first time they did this. Familiar, but also exhilaratingly new. Castiel nearly forgets to breathe, sucking in a lungful of air when Dean’s lips move down the column of his neck.
“Dean,” Castiel gasps, “Dean, please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s pleading for, simply trusting that Dean will give him what he needs.
He’s rewarded for his trust when Dean reaches between them to wrap a hand around Castiel’s cock, stroking him a handful of times before dropping to his knees. Those green eyes look up at him from below, pulling a groan from Castiel’s throat as he gently runs his fingers through Dean’s dripping hair. With a wink, Dean is on him, mouthing at the base of Castiel’s cock before swirling his tongue around the head. Heat rushes through Castiel as he struggles to keep himself from coming almost immediately.
When Dean finally takes Castiel in his mouth, all wet, velvety heat and blissful suction, an involuntary noise breaks free from Castiel’s throat. Even with a cock between his pretty lips, Dean still manages to look smug for a moment before he really sets to work. Castiel leans back against the cold tile, letting his head fall back as he moans unabashedly.
It doesn’t take much before Castiel is gripping Dean’s hair hard enough that it’s likely painful, but he can’t seem to let go as Dean takes him into his throat, swallowing around the intrusion in a tight squeeze that’s sure to end Castiel. Dean has barely bobbed his head half a dozen times more when Castiel tries to pull him off.
“Dean,” he pants. “Dean, please. Gonna – gonna come,” Castiel warns.
Rather than pulling back like Castiel had expected, Dean doubles down, working Castiel faster, sucking harder, and bringing a hand up to pay attention to Castiel’s balls. It’s a symphony of sensation, overwhelming Castiel and bringing him to the brink.
“Dean!” Castiel shouts in one final warning, looking down to find those beautiful green eyes looking back at him.
Their gazes connect, then mere seconds later Castiel is coming down Dean’s throat, shivering as Dean milks every single drop, swallowing noticeably. Castiel strokes Dean’s hair as he comes down, still using the wall to prop himself up.
Despite his post-orgasm fatigue, when Dean stands up already stroking his cock, Castiel moves to give Dean a hand. His fingers wrap around Dean’s length, all velvet and steel, and he loves the weight of Dean in his palm. Even more, he loves the way Dean shudders against him as Castiel gives an experimental stroke.
Though there’s water cascading down over them both, the glide is just a bit too dry and Castiel glances around the shower to see what his options are. To his surprise, when he reaches for a bottle of conditioner, there’s a tiny bottle of lube hidden behind it. One glance at Dean’s face shows that he’s blushing furiously.
“I– I can explain,” Dean says nervously.
“No need,” Castiel assures him. “I like a man who’s prepared.” He winks at Dean before dispensing lube into his palm and wrapping his hand around Dean’s dick once more.
Despite having just come himself, the noises that fall from Dean’s mouth have Castiel’s spent dick twitching. He slows his hand then pulls it away, a move that has Dean groaning in frustration, but Castiel has other ideas. He pours more lube into his palm before taking himself in hand, stroking until he’s fully hard again. The entire time, Dean tries to rut against Castiel’s hip, desperate to bring himself off.
“Shh,” Castiel soothes, moving Dean backwards so that he can take them both in hand.
The noise that comes out of Dean when he does is almost a sob.
“Cas, please,” Dean begs shakily, “please, please, please.” He thrusts his hips, sliding his cock through the channel of Castiel’s hand, and against Castiel’s own erection.
The feeling of Dean against him is enough to get Castiel moving again, stroking them both higher and higher, reveling in the low keen that he pulls from Dean’s throat when he runs his palm over the heads of their cocks.
“That’s it,” Castiel coaxes, “come for me.”
“Cas, Cas, Cas,” Dean chants, apparently unable to say anything more while he’s so blissed out. His hands are anchored on Castiel’s shoulders, fingers digging in almost painfully as Dean fights to control himself. It doesn’t take much longer before he gives himself over to the pleasure, hips moving as he grinds his cock against Castiel’s. With a guttural moan, Dean comes over both of their hands.
The heat of it, the extra wetness over his fingers, the feeling of Dean sagging against him in relief, all of it works to overwhelm Castiel. Crying out Dean’s name, he adds to the mess before letting go of them, sensitive and spent.
Quiet in the aftermath, Dean works with great care to wash every part of Castiel. A soapy cloth and hands glide over shoulders, pecs, and down Castiel’s stomach, until Dean’s satisfied that he’s clean. Then Dean turns him around, surprising Castiel by working shampoo into his hair and giving what could only be described as a scalp massage. When he’s done, Dean gently tips Castiel’s head back under the shower head and rinses until there’s no more soap suds going down the drain.
Castiel reciprocates, snatching up Dean’s woody-scented body wash and pouring a liberal amount onto a washcloth. He’s slow and gentle – if Dean feels anything like Castiel, every inch of him is tingling and sensitive in the wake of his orgasm. There’s just enough of a height difference that Castiel has to have Dean crouch a little to reach his hair, but he manages to clean his lover from top to toes.
Dean exits the shower first, giving himself a perfunctory wipe before reaching for a second fluffy white towel. He waits for Castiel to turn the shower off before reaching out with the towel, working it over Castiel’s body until he’s barely more than damp. Dean helps him dress once he’s dry, eyes lingering on Castiel in Dean’s clothing. There’s something possessive there, something that lets Castiel relax minutely.
Once they’re both dressed, Dean hangs up the towels and leads Castiel back out to the living room. They both take seats on the couch, close but not touching, turned sideways so that they can face each other.
“I guess we need to talk this out, huh?”
💚💚
Even though he’s the one who brought it up, Dean’s dreading this conversation. He’s not bothered by Castiel’s declaration of love – in fact he’s quite flattered by it – but he’s worried that Castiel wants more, needs more. Dean doesn’t think he could handle Castiel walking out of his life right now. Knowing what life is like with his soulmate, there’s no way he can go back to being alone, even if a romantic relationship still isn’t something he wants. His stomach churns and words get caught in his throat. He’s thankful when Castiel saves him from having to speak.
“Yes, I think for the sake of our future relationship, we really should talk about it now, rather than later. I suppose the biggest question I have is whether I’ve made you uncomfortable. I know you don’t feel the way I do, but I don’t want to lose you.”
Cas sounds so plaintive, his brow furrowed as he speaks, that Dean can’t help but take one of Castiel’s hands in his own.
“Cas, listen to me,” Dean tells him. “Nothing you’ve done has made me uncomfortable. In fact, I’m probably my most real self when I’m around you. It’s like you scaled all my walls, leaving them intact but making yourself at home in my heart.” Dean watches while Castiel searches his face, unsure and looking for any trace of a lie. He knows Cas won’t find one, so he waits passively.
“And the fact that I love you – that I’m in love with you – doesn’t bother you?”
Dean hates how unsure Castiel sounds, hates how his own behavior, his own assumptions are the reason Castiel has doubts in the first place. If he’d just stopped and listened when he first saw Cas in the grocers, none of that bullshit between them would have happened. Maybe then Castiel would believe Dean.
“No,” Dean assures Cas. “It doesn’t bother me even a little.” He shrugs, trying to find the words to get across what he’s feeling.
“But you’re not in love with me,” Cas argues.
A pit begins to grow in Dean’s stomach. Maybe Castiel is just looking for excuses to leave. Everyone does eventually – his mom, his dad, even Sam fucked off for a while before Dean followed him to California. Cas would just be continuing the pattern.
“I’m not,” Dean confirms despite his fears. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you in my own way, that I don’t need you. You’ve quickly become the most important person in my life,” he admits. “Can you accept that much?”
Castiel looks away in silence for a minute, hopefully internalizing Dean’s words so that he’s not so ready to run away. Dean doesn’t know what he’ll do if Cas chooses to leave. The frown that’s continuing to deepen on Castiel’s face doesn’t give him much hope.
“You’re the most important person to me, too,” Castiel says quietly. He heaves a deep sigh before meeting Dean’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter to me that you’ll never feel the same, I just want to be with you. But Dean…I need to know something…”
“Yeah, Cas. Completely open book here. Ask away.” Dean will tell Castiel anything he wants to know, anything that will get the troubled look off of his face.
“I understand that you don’t – can’t – feel the same way I do, and I’m okay with that, I really am. I just – Dean, I can’t share you with anyone else,” Castiel confesses. “I need to be your only partner, if we’re really going to do this.”
Somewhat taken aback, Dean can’t formulate a reply right away. Castiel must take that as proof Dean can’t be monogamous, his face crumpling even further, eyes suspiciously glossy. Dean sees the moment that Castiel decides to leave, sees him tensing to stand, so he clamps down on the hand still within his own, holding Castiel in place.
“Hold up.” He’s still not sure what he’s going to say, but Dean knows he can’t let Castiel leave. If he walks out that door, they’ll never get back what they have, fragile and tentative as it is. “Cas, please…”
It’s enough to make Castiel settle back into his seat, though he doesn’t fully relax. Dean’s sure he’s ready to bolt at the first wrong word. He needs to get this right, needs Castiel to understand that he won’t stray.
“Look, I know this won’t be perfect – no relationship ever is – but Cas, I’m here with you right now because I want to be with you. So long as you want me, I’ll be here,” Dean vows. “No one else could possibly hold my interest the way you do. I may not be in love with you, but the connection we have, the chemistry between us? I couldn’t ask for more. You’re my soulmate, Cas. Of course I’ll be faithful.”
If Dean was worried Castiel was going to cry before, he’s even more worried now. His eyes are rimmed red, and there’s a suspicious sounding sniffle when Castiel looks away.
“Cas, please, you gotta trust me,” Dean pleads. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”
Cas is still looking at the blank TV screen, but he gives Dean’s hand a squeeze, something Dean takes as a good sign. He waits patiently for Castiel to compose himself, not pushing or prodding, just giving the other man time.
“If you – if you did feel the need to seek attention elsewhere, you’d tell me first?”
It’s a devastating question, less for its content than the small way Castiel says it. He’s not sure who’s burned Cas in the past, but Dean wants to strangle them right now.
“I’m not going to,” Dean swears. “But if that time ever came, I would be completely honest with you. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
“I don’t either,” Castiel confirms, finally looking back at Dean.
When he does, there’s so much hope and trust there, and Dean’s terrified that he’s going to fuck this up.
“So that’s settled then? It’s you and me against the world?” It’s Dean’s turn to search Castiel’s face to ensure he’s telling the truth when he replies.
“Me and you against the world,” Castiel echoes. “I think I could get used to that.”
***
Life settles into a rhythm after their talk. On the evenings Dean’s not working, Castiel will show up with groceries and a recipe card, urging Dean to expand his repertoire from just burgers, breakfast, and pasta. They’ll sit on Dean’s couch and burn through a few episodes of Dr. Sexy while they eat. Some nights Castiel heads back to his own apartment, other nights he stays over, keeping Dean up far past his bedtime. Overall, things are good.
It’s not perfect – when Castiel’s ex, Mick, finds out that Castiel is in a relationship, he starts blowing up the poor guy’s phone. Eventually, Castiel pretended to give in, inviting Mick out to dinner. When the other man showed up at the restaurant, he was greeted by not just Castiel, but Dean, too. All it took was a few flexes of Dean’s hard, work-earned biceps for Mick to make his excuses before their meals came out. They end up taking his carbonara home to split later on.
They fight, of course they fight. What couple doesn’t? Be it superficial things, like Castiel not wearing enough sunscreen at the beach, or big things, like whether they need a more practical car than the Impala, the crucial part is that when they’re done, they always apologize, always make up. They’re too important to each other to let trivial matters get in their way.
***
There’s hell to pay when Meg and Charlie find out. Neither man had purposely avoided telling their best friend, but updating their relationship status for the public hadn’t exactly crossed their minds. It was only after Charlie came over and accosted Dean for not being to The Banked Flame recently that the truth of it all came out.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Red.” Dean shrugs as he scrubs at one of his pots. He’d left it with drying alfredo sauce in it overnight, and now it’s being a bitch to clean. “We didn’t keep it from you on purpose, we just…I dunno, didn’t feel like it was anyone’s business but our own. Especially considering the way some of our friends would react. You know Benny, how protective he is. It just hasn’t been worth the headache.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Charlie sighs. “But you still could have told me. I’m your very best friend, and you know I won’t judge you for how you are or what you do with your life.”
She looks completely crestfallen, so Dean drops the plate he’d moved on to into the sink, giving his hands a cursory wipe on the dish towel before he wraps his arms around Charlie’s shoulders. It takes her a moment to hug back, but when she does, he knows she’s forgiven him.
Meg, according to Castiel, is somewhat less sympathetic. It doesn’t help that she actually found out through Charlie, not Castiel himself. When she calls, Castiel takes it in the bedroom, but Meg is loud enough that Dean can almost make out the words she’s yelling. When Cas comes back out, he looks shell-shocked.
“To say she didn’t take that well would be an understatement,” Cas says, still pale as a ghost. “I’m not sure she’s ever going to talk to me again.” He grips his phone in his hands like it’s a lifeline holding him tethered to his sanity.
He stands in the doorway to the bedroom until Dean comes to fetch him, leading Castiel to the sofa where Dean pries the poor phone from the other man’s fingers. He cups Castiel’s face in his hands, forcing Cas to look at him.
“I wouldn’t be so worried, babe,” Dean tries to reassure. “From what you’ve told me about college, Meg would still talk to you even if you dropped an atomic bomb on her childhood home.”
“She’d love me especially if I did that,” Castiel corrects with a wry smile.
It’s not much, but Dean will take it as a win.
“Well, there you go. If she doesn’t forgive you, just blow up her parents’ house, right?” Dean jokes.
It does exactly what he’d hoped it would, drawing a chuckle out of his partner.
“I doubt it will come to that, but I’ll keep it in my back pocket,” Castiel says with the small smile he reserves solely for Dean. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You would be fine,” Dean posits. “Me, on the other hand? Without you, Sunshine, I would just crash and burn.” He gives Castiel a hug, kissing his forehead before rising off of the couch to finish making their dinner. Sam should be here any moment, and Dean wants to have everything ready for when he shows up.
A moment later, Castiel follows Dean to the tiny kitchen area.
“Anything I can do to help?” Cas offers. It’s sweet, considering how terrible he is in the kitchen. Dean has taken to cooking like a duck to water, but Cas has proven to be completely hopeless.
Dean sets him to work opening a bottle of red wine to let it breathe, then shoos Castiel out of the too-small area. “Go, relax, let me finish this.”
Dean doesn’t have to worry about Sam’s reaction – his little brother had been the first, and only, person he told when he and Cas first got together. After Dean had managed to convince him that Castiel was not, in fact, a stalker, Sam had been all for the two of them getting together.
***
It’s later than they would usually be out on a Saturday, now that they’ve settled down, but Dean and Cas find themselves strolling the path to The Banked Flame together one weekend. Apparently they don’t see their friends enough, and both Meg and Charlie are on bar tonight. Their presence has been demanded, and neither man has any excuse for getting out of it.
“Heyyyy! There’s my favourite couple!” Charlie crows the moment she catches sight of them.
It causes a sea of heads to turn in their direction, and Dean quickly realizes that many of the faces in the crowd are those of friends and family.
“Charlie, what did you do?” Dean demands as soon as they reach the long wooden bar, not even stopping to order a drink first.
“Well, you guys have been so caught up in each other that we all missed you. Meg and I maybe, sort of, kind of organized this for you?”
Charlie looks almost terrified, and it’s enough to make Dean’s anger simmer down. As he takes in the familiar faces around him, he realizes that it really has been a while since he or Cas saw anyone but each other or their coworkers. Ordering a beer for himself, and an Old Fashioned for Castiel, Dean wades out into the crowd to see if he can find his boyfriend.
It’s still an odd thought to him – ‘boyfriend’ is not a word Dean ever expected to apply to anyone. Sure, he’d dated around when he was in his early twenties, before he’d come to the realization that he just didn’t feel romantic love. None of them had ever come close to the title of boyfriend or girlfriend. Now, when he thinks about Castiel that way, he gets an elated shiver knowing that Castiel is his, and only his.
Dean spends the rest of the night glued to Castiel’s side so that they’re facing whatever repercussions of their isolation may come together. Surprisingly, no one is mad that they all but disappeared, they’re just happy to see them. Donna is especially effusive, squeezing them into a group hug, then bestowing them each with one individually.
“Youse two are just too cute, eh?” she beams, pinching Dean on the cheek. Castiel is lucky enough to avoid this by turning towards the bar, where his name is being called. With a smile and yet another hug, Donna lets them go. “I know you’ve got lots of people to talk to tonight, but don’t forget me after this, ya hear?”
When they get to the bar, Meg has lined up shot glass after shot glass, and she’s got a shaker in her hands. “Sit your asses down,” she shouts, pointing to the two bar stools that have emptied in front of her. With one long, practiced pour, Meg fills the shot glasses, each one filling with a different color, almost as if by magic.
“Dean, you’re going to start at this end,” Meg instructs, pointing to one end, where the shots begin with a vibrant cyan. “And Clarence, you’ll start down here.” The shot glass at the further end is a bright crimson.
There are eight of them – four each – and Dean, at the very least, has no clue what’s in them. He’s already been plied with many drinks by his friends and family, but the look on Meg’s face says he can’t turn these down.
Dean picks up his first shot, as does Castiel, both looking at each other dubiously. “L’chaim, I suppose,” Dean offers, holding his glass out for Cas to toast against.
“Za zdorovye!” Castiel replies as he clinks the tiny shot glasses together.
As one, they take the shot, both of them making faces afterwards.
“I think that was mostly sugar,” Cas complains, but dutifully picks up the next shot, and the next, until together they’ve run through all eight of them.
Meg swears there’s barely even two ounces of booze across all eight, but Dean isn’t so much of a lightweight as to believe she didn’t give them a very heavy pour.
The night eventually dissolves into a blur of faces, but through it all, Dean and Castiel stay side by side. The only time they separate is when Castiel has to use the washroom, leaving Dean in Charlie’s capable hands at the bar. While waiting for his soulmate’s return, Dean chats with Charlie, never minding when the job pulls her away to another patron.
Blissfully drunk, Dean doesn’t look over when someone sits in Castiel’s seat next to him, just puts his arm around their back and pulls them close. The smell of perfume and a cloying giggle have him pulling back faster than if he’d been burned.
“Sorry, thought you were someone else,” Dean tells the woman with a frown.
“You know, I could be someone else, if that’s what you need,” the woman in Castiel’s seat purrs, but Dean’s already searching the crowd for a tuft of dark, messy hair.
“I’m real flattered, but uh, I’m taken,” Dean tells his unwanted companion.
“She doesn’t have to know,” the stranger whispers in Dean’s ear, far too close for comfort.
At his back, he senses a presence, one that eases Dean rather than putting him on edge. “Yeah, he does,” he tells the pushy woman at the bar. It may be rude, but he ignores anything else she has to say, turning to catch Castiel in his arms, nearly pulling the man into his lap. “You ready to go, Angel?” he asks.
Looking up, he sees something like awe, maybe surprise in Castiel’s face.
“What? What’s up?” Dean asks, not sure if this is good or bad.
“Just…just you,” Cas replies, leaning in to press a kiss to Dean’s mouth. He tastes like grenadine and alcohol, a mix that Dean isn’t exactly complaining about. “You continue to amaze me.”
“I’m not sure how that’s possible, but I’ll take it,” Dean answers, though he’s sure he’s done nothing that would warrant the way Cas is now looking at him – full of awe, and love, and trust.
“I love you, you know,” Castiel states, like it’s a given fact and not a question.
“I love you, too,” Dean replies.
They both know that the love they feel for each other is different, but the strength of that love is the glue that binds them.
Castiel takes Dean by the hand, leading him through the press of bodies and out into the fresh(ish) air. The moment they’re away from the doors, Dean finds himself pressed into the brick of the building, all six feet of Castiel bearing against him as they kiss. There’s a wolf whistle from somewhere nearby, which Dean pays no mind to, but it’s enough to make Castiel break off and drag them further down the street.
They don’t get far before Dean’s back is up against yet another building, and he’s just drunk enough not to care how hard he’s getting. Castiel notices, though, and pulls them a bit further along.
It takes them twice as long to get home as usual, but they’re together, and that’s what matters.