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Dean Winchester has never been anyone's first choice.
Or their second. Or their third.
Sure, people call him and his brother when things are going to shit but usually they're trying to call John. Dean gets that. He wishes he could call his dad too - just to talk. And yell at him for everything.
For abandoning him. For being there. For making him a son and a father and a mother and a wife. For making him feel lost without those roles and responsibilities.
How does he exist on his own? How can anyone want Dean if all he is is Dean. If they can go to others for things they need rather than always going to him.
Dean would wake up without hesitation and comfort them and be their everything. So long as he can be useful. So long as he can be used.
Cas isn't like that.
Cas doesn't want anything from him. Or, at least, Dean had thought he didn't.
At first, there'd been a need for a weapon and then an ally in the war and then a place to stay. Dean couldn't give him any of those things. He can't give him love either.
Dean had thought that they'd reached a place where nothing was required of him. Until the Confession.
Until Cas said he wanted him and Dean couldn't give himself. He would. He'd chop himself up into pieces to fit Cas' mold of who he is but he can't. Besides, his therapist says he isn't supposed to be doing things like that. Dean thinks he isn't supposed to be seeing a therapist in the first place. His dad would kill him. He'd call him soft and weak and he'd say that he needed to be doing more important things. Like looking after Sammy.
But Sam isn't Sammy anymore. He's not that wisp of a boy with his nose in a book and his hair ruffled by the wind. He's a grown man with a girlfriend and a job as a Man of Letters and a man bun and a beard.
He looks ridiculous.
He looks grown.
Dean doesn't know what to do with that. Dean doesn't know what to do about anything.
Sam has Eileen, Jack has being God, Cas has his bees or whatever he likes besides Dean and Dean has... nothing. No one.
"But, Dean," Mia says, her voice gentle and all therapy-like, "you still have Sam and Jack. And Cas."
Dean shakes his head. "They don't need me."
His therapist smiles. "They want you."
Dean shakes his head again. "I can't give them anything. I don't have anything left."
Mia sighs, adjusting herself in her seat. Dean is hunched over on the couch, small and vunerable.
"They don't want something from you, Dean. They want you to just exist around them. To be there."
"Fat lot of good that'll do them." Dean snorts. "Haven't you got the memo? I ruin everything I touch. I killed my dad and I killed my brother's girlfriend. I killed Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Ash and so many others. I killed... I killed Cas."
"Cas is alive."
"No thanks to me," Dean tells her miserably. "Jack did all that before he came home. The kid's four and he had to save his dead dad because of me."
"Cas sacrificed himself," Mia corrects. "For you, not because of you. No matter what you did, the deal would be there and he'd be taken. It's incredibly lucky that his being taken coincided with Jack becoming God. That saved him."
Dean feels his throat closing up. "He was dead. Sometimes, I still think he is. I look at him and I think that he's dead and in the Empty and everyone is just humouring me."
"Cas is not dead," Mia says. "He is safe. He loves you."
Dean runs a hand through his hair.
"He wants me. What the hell do I do about that? The dude's True Happiness was just telling me that he wants me. I can't give him that. I'm bisexual, sure. I've known that for years. But I'm not his Dean. Not the one he fantasizes about."
Mia hums. "What do you think he fantasizes about?"
Dean gestures to himself. "Not to be crude, doc, but I think that's pretty obvious."
"You think he wants you for sex?"
Dean's brain stumbles over the word but he keeps going. "Sure. I don't blame him. He's a handsome guy himself. And I would have sex with him. I'd give him anything he wants. But if we have sex, he's going to realise that he's not in love with me. He's mistaking his feelings because he doesn't know any better. And I can't take that. It'd hurt too much."
"Do you trust Cas?"
"Of course! But he isn't lying about this. He's just wrong."
-
Castiel loves Dean Winchester, Dean thinks and it sounds wrong.
Castiel loves Dean Winchester. Castiel loves Dean Winchester. Castiel loves Dean Winchester. Castiel loves Dean Winchester.
Nope. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
"Castiel loves Dean Winchester," he says aloud, staring himself down in the mirror. "Cas loves Dean. Cas loves me."
He closes his eyes, frustration coursing through his veins.
"This is stupid," he mutters. "This whole thing is stupid."
"You good?" Sam asks through the closed door, knocking three times. "Cas ordered burgers."
Castiel loves burgers.
See, now that sounds right.
With Cas being half human now, burgers were on the daily menu. He'd chow down three or four of the things and Dean would watch him, lovesick.
Pathetic.
But watching Cas be so human, so alive and happy, kind of makes Dean want to throw up in happiness.
He wrinkles his nose at himself.
"Coming!" he calls before Sam kicks down the door.
He likes this door, after all.
Maybe he should get Sam to kick down all the doors in the Bunker so that Cas has to sleep in his bed.
Then again, close proximity with Cas in any way shape or form is a bad idea. Dean will break or Cas will and then everything will be over. Forever this time.
"I love you," he whispers to the picture of Cas and him smiling with their arms wrapped over each other's shoulders on his bedside table. It sounds wrong when he says it. It feels right.
Jack and Sam are talking over the burgers in kitchen about something nerdy that Dean will probably pretend not to understand just to maintain his reputation.
Cas will see through him. He always does.
He'll smile with his eyes crinkled because he's been smiling more recently.
Which makes Dean sick to his stomach and filled with butterflies.
Jack damn it, make your mind up, Winchester.
For a moment, he imagines Cas getting up from the table, burger in hand, and kissing Dean. Kissing him gently and tenderly and with love. Imaginary Cas cups his jaw and strokes his thumb along his cheekbone and...
And then Imaginary Cas is pulling back and he's saying he's sorry. He was mistaken. He doesn't really love Dean.
Because, honestly, that makes more sense than the soft smile Real Cas is giving him right now and the brightness in his eyes. He's ditched the holy accountant trenchcoat but his sleeves aren't rolled up like how Lucifer used to wear them.
Cas is grasping his cuffs in his hands, fiddling with them absentmindedly. Adorably.
"I'm not going anywhere, Dean," Cas says kindly.
His name sounds like benediction in Cas' mouth.
"Yeah," he stammers awkwardly. "I know. I know that."
"Then why do you keep staring at me?"
Dean splutters. "You do it too! You stare at me all the time! It's like you're..."
He cuts himself off, realising his mistake.
"In love with you?" Cas finishes. "I thought I'd made that clear."
Sam spits out his coffee. "Woah! Back up! When was this?"
"Right before the Empty took him," Dean grumbles, standing unsurely in the doorway. "Dumb bastard spewed out a whole speech and then fucking left."
"I did not 'fucking leave'," Cas protests, air quotes and all. "My deal was activated and I was taken."
"Yeah because your happiest moment was my worst," Dean says and wow that's too truthful.
He grabs a burger, avoiding Cas' devastating use of his name and Sam's moose-like bafflement, and heads back to his room where he can hide for the rest of time.
_
Cas is beautiful. Dean's biased obviously but it's also just a plain fact. He's gorgeous, handsome (devastatingly so) and... hot. Dean winces. Hot sounds wrong. Hot sounds like a hookup at the bar where he winks at them and they giggle or they wink back and suddenly there's sheets and hands and Sam's disapproving face when he gets back the next morning. Hot hasn't happened in years. Not since the Bunker. Since Cas became less angel of the lord and more love of Dean's friggen' life.
He doesn't know when it started. He reckons around purgatory was when he fell into official, all consuming love. It was kind of there since after Cas died the first time. It was something small that bubbled and mutated and grew into this ginormous elephant in the room.
Dean started noticing Cas' looks right away. He had always been attractive. Or Jimmy had been. Or both. Dean thinks it's partially due to the way Cas carries himself. He's so confident and sure and an utter BAMF (thank you Claire and the internet). But he's also soft and uncertain and an utter sweetheart. So maybe Cas is just Cas and Cas is attractive.
The whole thing with Godstiel was an eye opener. Whatever thoughts crossed Dean's mind when he was ordered to kneel and love Him were between him and, well, Godstiel.
Cas hated the nickname. Dean used it behind his back.
Anyway, the point is that Cas is beautiful. Dean has known this for the better part of a decade.
So, when he opens his bedroom door to find Cas on the other side, it shouldn't knock the wind out of him. Cas has bags under his eyes and his hair is messier than ever. He has wrinkles and stubble and his canines are sharp and a little crooked. He's not human. He's a six dimensional wave of light. Dean knows this and loves him more for it. And he just adores Cas' current form.
"Dean," Cas starts and absolutely not.
"Sorry, can't talk, buddy," Dean says. "Indiana Jones marathon. You get it."
"No," Cas says. "I do not 'get it'."
"Ah well," Dean barrels on. "Lovely to see you. Have fun with your bees."
"Dean."
Cas states it firmly and two octaves lower - how is that even possible? - which Dean recognises as his 'I'm not fucking around' voice and he immediately wants to kiss Cas about it.
"Cas," he mocks.
"Dean, I love you."
Fuck, hearing it again nearly makes Dean collapse.
"I know nothing is going to be done about it and I'm okay with that. I am. But we have to talk about it because it's clearly upsetting you."
"Up- upsetting me?" Dean repeats, nearly hysterical. "Your death bed speech is upsetting me?"
Cas scowls. "It's not about when it was said. It's about what was said."
"I don't know, buddy. I think the when is pretty fucking relevant."
Cas tilts his head and Dean wants to cry.
"You're angry," he says.
"Not at you," Dean clarifies and Mia will be proud of him for that one. "Well, a little at you. At the circumstances."
"My love makes you angry."
"Dude, no! That's not what I'm saying! Your deal makes me angry! Yeah, I get it. I would have done the same for the kid. But it still hurts and you still should have told us."
"I didn't think there was any point."
Dean laughs in disbelief. "You didn't think your life had any point? How little do you think of yourself? How little do you think I think of you?"
"Very little, right now," Cas says bluntly.
"I..." Dean scoffs. "I can't do this right now."
He pushes past Cas and down to the shooting range.
-
After that morning, it becomes increasingly apparent to everyone that something is going on between Dean and Cas. Instead of minding their own business, Dean's family decide that they should meddle.
Jack's the worst of them all when he turns those puppy dog eyes on Dean and asks, "Why are you avoiding Dad?"
(Because Dad is what he calls Cas now. Because Cas is his dad. Because of course Cas is! Cas is great at everything. Why wouldn't he be a great father?)
Dean doesn't know what to say.
"Not avoiding him," he grunt out and that's that in his mind. Even though it's a blatant lie. Jack clearly doesn't think that's the end of it.
"Yes you are," he says, "and it's making Dad sad so cut it out."
Dean blinks at him in surprise. Being scolded by a four year old will do that to you.
And, the thing is, Jack is four. He looks twenty and he speaks like an adult but he's a four year old kid who loves his dad and wants him to be happy.
"Your dad won't be happy with me," he says in lieu of answering. "I make everyone miserable."
"You don't make me miserable," Jack says.
Dean chokes down a sob.
"Even after..." He sighs. "You have every right to hate my guts, kid. Cas does too."
"But we don't," Jack replies simply. "It hurt, when you were... so angry all the time. It hurt a lot but it's different now and I still love you. Dad loves you."
"I know," Dean says because he does and "I love you both too," he says because it's the truth.
Jack smiles, all teeth and gum just like his dad. The sun is beaming from his face - metaphorically but maybe literally because the kid is God after all.
"You should tell Dad that," he says. "I bet he'd cry."
Dean laughs softly. "He cried when he told me he loved me."
"Loves," Jack corrects.
"Loves," Dean says stiltedly. "Which, by the way, how do you feel about that?"
Jack shrugs. "It's like a truth of the universe. It's always been there and it always will be. I don't need to think about it because I just know it. I can feel your love for each other."
Dean... Dean could be knocked over with a feather right now. He might grow old and die before he knows what to say to that.
"Talk to him," Jack implores.
"Okay," Dean relents, "but, however this turns out, it's not on you. It's not on you to fix anything or be okay with anything or forgive anything. You're a kid and all you need to do is sit back and let us help you figure out this crazy little thing called life."
"Queen," Jack interjects. Dean snaps his fingers.
"Exactly. Everyone thinks it's Elvis but it's Queen. Good kid. Not my point."
Jack takes pity on him. "I get it."
Dean nods jerkily. "Good."
He stands up and awkwardly pats Jack on the shoulder.
"Love you, kid."
"Love you too, Dean."
And what on earth did Dean do to deserve that?
-
He should speak to Cas. He will speak to Cas.
Never mind that he keeps backing out of every room he finds Cas in and starting and stopping sentences every time he tries to say even a brief 'hi'.
He doesn't talk to Cas.
He finds him alone in his room and closes the door.
Cas looks up, concerned. "Dean?"
Dean can't talk. If he talks, he's going to fuck this up like he fucks everything up. Although, everything is going to go wrong once Cas realises he isn't in love with him anyway. At least Dean can have this for a short while.
He strides forward, grabs Cas' face and kisses him hard.
It's bad. There's no other way to say it. The angle's wrong and they're just standing there with their lips smushed together and Dean has his eyes screwed so tightly shut that it's giving him a mild headache.
Then Cas pushes him back just a little, tilts his head and kisses him gently, setting a slow pace.
Tender? Okay, Dean can work with that.
He slides his hands down to stroke Cas' jaw and opens his mouth.
Dean thought he had nothing left to give. He was so wrong.
He gives and he gives and he gives and he gets a little selfish and he takes and Cas seems happy to just be there (dork).
As soon as everything quietens down, Dean expects to be kicked out and to have to trail dejectedly back to his room. He isn't. Instead, Cas opens his arms and lets Dean settle his head on his chest and fall asleep.
When Dean wakes up, warm with arms wrapped around him, he allows himself a moment before he sits up. Cas sits up after him. He looks crestfallen. Dean wants to kiss away the furrow of his brow.
"So you're leaving," Cas says as Dean starts to get out of the bed.
"Yeah," Dean says, pulling on his jeans. "Don't worry. I won't make this hard on you, dude."
Cas laughs but it's not happy. "You think leaving is making this easier for me? You think anything about this is easy for me?"
"Look, I know you don't actually love me. It was an honest mistake. I get it. I'm leaving."
Cas grabs his arm and yanks him back onto the bed.
"What?" he questions sharply. "Dean, what the heavens gave you that idea?"
Dean shrugs, staring at the floor. "You thought wanting sex meant you loved me. I mean, I didn't love the first person I slept with but I was pretty damn sure at the time. I only realised after when she wanted to hang out and she talked for an hour straight about her ex and I wasn't heartbroken. It was just annoying. People say all sorts when they're horny. I get it."
"Dean." Cas cups his face and forces Dean to look at him. "I love you."
"Cas, you don't have to."
"Dean. I was not and am not mistaken. I am in love with you. Not for your body. I am in love with your beautiful, beautiful soul because you are beautiful, Dean. Inside and out. I choose loving you over everything and, barring Jack, I will continue to choose you and always put you first."
Oh. Oh.
He lays a hand on Dean's chest and Dean leans into the hand left on his face. He chuckles wryly.
"When you came in here, I thought you were only in it for the sex. That's why I was so upset that you were leaving. I thought I was right."
"Cas." Dean frowns. "In case it wasn't clear, I love you too."
Cas leans forward and kisses him. Dean pulls back with a grin.
"We're such idiots," he mumbles.
"Probably," Cas admits, "but I'm okay with that."
He kisses Dean again before he can say something stupid and cheesy.
Thank fuck for that.