Chapter Text
“Can it, Jo!” Dean hisses. “You and your big mouth are gonna wake him up!”
Jo scowls, but dutifully lowers her voice when she says, “Isn’t that the point? He’s been out for-fucking-ever. I’m tired of hanging out in your room. My butt is killing-,”
“No one’s making you stay.”
That finally shuts her up and Dean finds a moment to breathe. He loves his family, he really does, but sometimes he needs a little peace and fucking quiet and spending two whole days with all of them crammed into his tiny apartment is about to send him over the edge.
A heavy hand falls on Dean’s shoulder, warm even through all three of Dean’s layers. Dean’s always wondered if there’s something about being a vampire that makes you run hot or if that’s a trait unique to Benny.
“He’ll be alright.” Benny gives his shoulder a squeeze before releasing him. “Have a little faith, brotha.”
Dean snorts. Faith? In what? Not fucking angels, that’s for sure. Cas seems like the only decent one in the bunch and he was only an angel for like… five minutes. Still, he thinks as he looks down at Cas’s prone form where he lies in Dean’s bed, that five minutes simultaneously saved his and Sam’s lives and nearly killed him.
“Quit wrigging your hand like an old biddy,” Gabriel complains around his constantly present lollipop.
Dean grits his teeth and ignores him, as he’s been trying to do for the past two days. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive him for that stunt he pulled, faking his death and leaving Cas on his own against fucking Lucifer. Gabriel keeps trying to explain that he didn’t abandon Cas and that he had a plan, but that’s bullshit. It’s a fucking miracle Cas survived. Gabriel had no way of knowing that Cas somehow kept his soul when he took his Grace. Apparently, that’s not how it works. You get one or the other, not both and the Grace burns away the human soul and absorbs its energy.
Cas kept his and that’s the only reason he’s alive right now. Exhausted and frail and human and possibly in a coma, but alive, thanks to Gabriel. It’s the only reason Dean hasn’t tried to kick him out. If he hadn’t shown up and healed Cas, then he would have died from the stab wound regardless of whether or not he managed to hang onto his soul.
“He’s just resting,” Gabriel continues, ignoring Dean’s stony silence. “Using your own soul as a battery while you take on the devil takes a lot out of a guy.”
“It’s been two days,” Dean snaps.
Gabriel smirks. “What can I say? He must like you a lot to have used up that much juice to save your ass.”
Dean rolls his eyes and goes back to pacing the minuscule floor space between the bed and the window. That’s the other thing. Gabriel will not shut up about True Love and Destiny just because Cas refused to angel up until Dean’s ass was in the fire. It’s a load of crap.
“Give it a rest, Gabe,” Sam says without looking up from his hand of cards where him, Claire, Jo, and Charlie sit on the floor in a loose circle just outside the door to the bedroom. “Claire, you got any eights?”
“Go fish,” Claire says without inflection.
“Sam!” Charlie says, too loud now that it’s her turn. “Fork over them eights.”
Sam does so with a groan. “I knew I should have asked you instead.”
“Snooze ya lose!”
“Charlie, c’mon,” Dean exasperates.
“Oops.” She grins sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“Why do I put up with any of you?” Dean asks the ceiling.
“We’re irresistibly lovable,” Claire deadpans.
“Maybe you should take a seat, Romeo,” Jo says. “All you pacing is giving me a headache.”
Dean forces his feet to a standstill. He’d hardly noticed he was moving.
“I don’t pace,” he lies. “You should check him again,” he tells Gabriel.
Gabriel sighs, put-upon and world-weary as he slides off the window seat. He knows by now it’s not worth it to argue when Dean’s “Mother-henning” as Claire puts it.
“He’s fine, but yes, your majesty, I will check. Again . Sammy, how’s that angel labor law coming along? I’m feeling very manipulated and overworked.”
That’s another-nother thing. He doesn’t fucking like whatever is going on between Sam and Gabriel and apparently has been going on for years. He doesn’t know what it is and he doesn’t want to know, but whatever it is, he doesn’t like it.
“It’s still a bill. It goes before Congress in a couple weeks.”
Gabriel pauses, hand hovering inches above Cas’s forehead. Dean grits his teeth.
“Wait, seriously?”
“No. You’re fine.”
Gabriel pouts. “Tease.” He places his hand against Cas’s forehead like he’s checking for a fever. Cas flinches.
Heart in his throat, Dean steps forward, but then Cas surges up and lunges at Gabriel, swinging his fists wildly. Gabriel barely manages to dodge a blow to the chin before Cas overbalances and nearly topples out of the bed. If Gabriel hadn’t been there to catch him, he would have.
“Woah, cool it, Cassanova. Deano’s over there .”
Cas struggles, staring around the room without tracking, panic and terror stark on his face. Dean shoves past Gabriel just as it looks like Cas is about to take another go at his face.
“Cas, hey.” He gets a hand on his forearm, capturing his attention. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” Cas’s blue eyes are hazy with fear and confusion, but they focus on Dean.
“Dean. Where’s-,”
“Lucifer?”
Cas flinches, but his eyelids are already starting to droop. He probably won’t even remember this.
“Dead,” Dean answers the unasked question. He’ll answer it as many times as Cas needs him to. “You’re safe now. You can…” He licks his lips. “You can rest here.”
Cas lays back on the pillows and blinks hard, struggling to stay awake.
“You killed him,” he says, thickly.
Dean pulls in a breath. “Yeah. I thought he got you, man,” he confesses on the following exhale.
Cas’s hand twitches on his chest. “Me too,” he mumbles. His eyes flutter shut and stay shut and his chest rises and falls reassuringly. Dean thinks he’s asleep until he hums like he just remembered something and says, “Your soul is still beautiful.”
What the fuck? “Okay. I mean, thanks. I guess.” He shakes his head. “Go to sleep, man. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Cas hums again, more distant this time. “Wake me if I start to dream.”
“Okay,” he says, but Cas is already asleep.
Dean stands there for a moment, windswept and bewildered, but the anxious twist in his chest has loosened. He adjusts the blankets so Cas is properly covered again and resists the temptation to drop into the wooden chair beside the bed (borrowed from his kitchen) and let his head drop face first onto the mattress. It’s a strong one, but he can feel the stares of basically his entire family on his back.
He scrubs his hands down his face.
“Dean-,”
“You know what?” Dean says, too loud. His hands fall to his sides. “I’m fucking starving.” He turns around, hoping his expression is neutral, and speaks over the heads of his uncharacteristically silent siblings, unable to look them in the eyes. “Who’s picking up dinner tonight?”
“You didn’t tell us you killed-,”
“I’m so hungry I could eat an entire cow,” Dean proclaims.
“I’ll go... get food,” Sam offers disjointedly into the resulting silence. He sets down his cards.
“I’ll go with,” Charlie offers.
Claire rolls her eyes. “I’ll get the dishes washed then, I guess.”
“Jo, you should come with us to get food. We’ll need the extra hands.”
Jo sighs and collects all the cards, but doesn’t argue for once in her life.
“Gabe, you coming?” Sam asks. Gabriel snorts and sticks his hands in his pockets.
“I’ll pop back in and check on you kids later.” He vanishes with the sound of wings before anyone can reply.
“Right,” Sam grumbles. “Benny?”
“Naw,” Benny says, heaving himself up off the floor where he’d been reclined against the dresser. “But I’ll step out and help Claire with the clean so Dean can have some privacy with his… whatever you two are.”
Dean flushes bright red, but everyone laughs and the tension is broken as they squeeze out of the bedroom in a mass. Benny hangs back and slaps Dean into a rough but brief one-armed hug.
“It’s been a crazy week, but we’re all here for ya, brotha. Come on out when you’re ready for us.”
Dean clears his throat. “Yeah.” It still comes out rough.
Benny smirks playfully. “Make sure you do a good job chasin’ away them bad dreams. Wouldn’t want nothin’ upsettin’ your boy.”
“Shut up.” Dean shoves at him, but he finds himself smiling for the first time in days.
Benny shuts the door behind him and finally, finally, Dean drops into the wooden chair beside the bed and face plants into the sheets.
.
~*~
.
When Dean wakes up, it’s dark and his back is killing him from sleeping doubled over with his ass on the chair and his head cradled in his arms on the bed. Groaning, he sits up and something heavy and warm falls away from his head. He stares at the relaxed hand that falls from his hair to the bed, uncomprehending, until the hand curls into a loose fist and pulls away. He tracks it as it lifts to Cas’s face where he sleepily rubs his eyes.
“Hey,” Dean says, surprised to see him awake, his voice rough with sleep.
Cas startles, but before he can get too freaked, Dean puts his hand on his shoulder and says, “You’re safe, Cas. Relax buddy.”
Cas’s wide, panicked eyes lock onto Dean and then he does as he’s told, his body slumping back into the pillow. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and takes a steadying breath.
“Is this real?” Cas asks, voice small. It breaks Dean’s heart.
He squeezes Cas’s shoulder. “Yeah, man. This is real.”
Cas exhales slowly and settles his hands on his chest before he turns his head to look at Dean. Brilliant blue eyes search his face for a prolonged moment before he asks, “What happened?”
Dean grimaces and leans back into his chair, letting his hand slide across Cas’s cotton shirt until he can’t reach him anymore. He crosses his arms over his chest. Where does he even start?
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Cas pulls a face and looks up at the ceiling. “Lucifer stabbed me. Then you stabbed him and I… I should be dead.”
“You’re not,” Dean says with feeling. Cas turns his head to stare him. “You’re not. You… I dunno. Somehow you kept your soul when you angeled up, which is not normal I guess, and then when Lucifer stabbed you it only killed your Grace but you still had your soul? So you’re not dead, you’re just… human.”
Cas turns his stare to the end of the bed and Dean watches through the blankets as he wiggles his toes. He turns back to Dean. “How am I not paralyzed? That stab wound should have… I feel fine. Exhausted, but otherwise unhurt. How-,”
“Gabriel healed you,” Dean says and Cas’s eyes go wide. “Yeah, he’s not dead either. The coward faked his death.”
Cas’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. “What? Why?”
“I dunno, because he’s a selfish dick? He was holding back the whole time and then when it got too hard he bailed and left you up against the fucking devil by yourself.”
Cas’s eyes go pensive, but he hums a little to let Dean know he heard him. Dean wants to rant and rave about what a shithead Gabriel is, but to be honest he too fucking tired to get into it right now. And hungry. Whatever happened with dinner? Surely everyone must be back by now and the food is probably gone by now too. Dean looks towards the door and does a double take when he sees the heaping plate of food sitting on the dresser.
“Hungry?” Dean asks as he levers himself up off the hard chair. Cas’s stomach answers with a growl and Dean laughs until he remembers that Gabriel’s been keeping Cas’s body nourished and healthy, but Cas hasn’t actually eaten since that half a can of beans two days ago. Or has it been three now? He’s got no fucking clue what time it is.
He returns with the plate and frowns distastefully at the chair. “Budge over,” he says to Cas instead. Cas sits up gingerly and scoots over to the far side of the queen-sized bed and Dean settles in beside him, back against the wall and legs sticking out in front of him, crossed at the ankle.
Dean pokes experimentally at the mashed potatoes and gravy and frowns. They’re cold.
“D’you want cold mashed potatoes, cold mac ‘n’ cheese, cold corn, cold chicken, or a cold biscuit to start?”
Cas’s lips quirk into tired, wry smile. “Anything except cold beans sounds acceptable.”
The comment surprises a laugh out of Dean and he picks up a biscuit. “See how that settles in your stomach and then we’ll give the other stuff a go.”
Cas accepts the biscuit and nibbles on it thoughtlessly while Dean begins shoveling mac ‘n’ cheese in his mouth by the forkful. He eats a little of everything, making sure there’s at least half left for Cas. Cas finishes his biscuit and reaches for a piece of chicken.
“If it was Sam, would you be able to kill him?” Cas asks conversationally.
Dean chokes on his mashed potatoes. “I- what?”
“If Sam started killing people,” Cas explains patiently, “would you be able to kill him in order to stop him?”
“Sam wouldn’t do that,” Dean snaps.
Cas takes a bite of his chicken. “I don’t think I would be able to kill Claire,” he muses. “If I did, I don’t think I would be able to live with myself after. No matter how many lives I saved.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Gabriel and Lucifer,” he says like it’s obvious. “Gabriel couldn’t kill Lucifer any more than you could kill one of your siblings.”
“But that’s different. We’re talking literal Satan here.”
“It’s not.” Cas turns to look Dean in the face. “Before Lucifer rebelled, he and Gabriel were very close. Gabriel emulated him in every way he could. He learned all of his tricks and pranks from him.”
Dean can’t imagine a time when Lucifer was anything other than the cold-blooded killer that almost asphyxiated him against a tree, tried to kidnap Sam, and stabbed Cas in the back.
“He’s the devil,” he says weakly.
Cas shakes his head and his eyes go distant. “Not back then, he wasn’t. He was the Morningstar, the brightest and more beautiful of all of us and we all wanted to bask in his light. Gabe was his favorite. His prodigy, he called him.”
Cas takes another bite of his chicken.
“Then he rebelled,” he continues once he chews and swallows. “He thought Gabe would side with him, Gabriel couldn’t bear to turn his back on all of us to fight. Kill. He loved us all too much to do that. He helped Michael and Raphael cage Lucifer but he was never the same after that. He became hard and cynical, rather than carefree and playful.
“I didn’t know at the time, but dad left after Lucifer was put in the cage.”
“Da- Wait, God? You’re talking about God,” Dean interrupts, his mouth full of biscuit and corn.
“Yes,” Cas confirms. “I remember there was a lot of fighting, but I assumed it was because of Lucifer’s betrayal. I never expected…” He polishes off his chicken and sucks his fingers clean. Dean tries not to watch and passes over the plate when he’s ready for it.
“Gabe left soon after and he’s been living amongst humanity ever since,” Cas says as he stirs together the remaining corn and mashed potatoes. “I don’t think he’s ever gotten over what happened and asking him to kill Lucifer was too much.” He loads up a forkful of his corn and potato mixture and lets it hover as he turns to look Dean in the eye.
“I’m not saying he’s perfect or blameless. I only wish for you to know the history before you decide to hold a grudge. He holds no ill-will against me, I assure you.”
Dean pulls a face and plucks at the blanket under his butt. “I don’t like how…” he wafts his hand as he tries to conjure up the right word, “chummy he is with Sammy.”
Cas’s lips twitch and Dean narrows his eyes. “What do you know that I don’t?”
Cas stuffs the entire forkful into his mouth and shrugs without looking at Dean. “Nothing,” he says through the food, utterly unconvincing.
“Uh huh. I’ll let you off the hook for now since you’ve been an unconscious log for two days, but later I’m pumping you for information.”
Cas blinks at him in shock. “Two days?”
Dean sobers. “Yeah, apparently using your soul as a battery to power angel mojo takes a lot out of a guy.”
“Oh,” Cas slumps a little. “I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I only knew I needed to be faster, stronger.”
“Yeah well, you saved mine and Sam’s bacon so I ain’t complaining. We really owe you one, Cas.”
“No.” Cas looks up at Dean, his gaze lingering and searching in a way Dean doesn’t understand. “You don’t.”
Dean stares back, wrong-footed by Cas’s earnest declaration. He clears his throat and drops his gaze down to the plate in Cas’s lap.
“You wanna, uh, finish that while I tell you the rest?”
Cas frowns. “There’s more? Lucifer… he’s dead.” Fear suddenly wells up in Cas’s eyes and Dean hastens to assure him.
“Yeah, no, he’s definitely dead. As a doornail. There were the umm, the ash wings and me and Sammy burned his body and everything.” Dean doesn’t mention his clothes, now shoved to the very bottom of the trash, completely covered in ash from not only Lucifer’s wings but Cas’s too. He pushes away the memory along with the discomforting feelings of grief and loss that come with it. Cas is right here. He didn’t die after all. They got damn lucky.
He takes a breath and reflects over the past few days since Gabriel healed Cas not a moment too soon and poofed them out of the woods. “It’s been… a long couple of days. You should eat.”
Cas rolls his eyes and stuffs a forkful of mac ‘c’ cheese in his mouth before staring at Dean expectantly. Waiting.
Dean takes a breath. “So we said Bella, or Annie or whatever you wanna call her-the chick that killed Crowley-we said her time was up and she’d be hellhound chow, right?”
Cas nods, cheeks bulging.
“Well, we were wrong. She’s not dead.”
Cas chokes.
“Yeah,” Dean says and waits for Cas to swallow and get his breath back before continuing. “Apparently, if you kill the demon that holds your contract it breaks the contract and you’re free.”
“Is that why I’m here?” Castiel asks, somewhat miserably.
“What?”
“This is another safe house, isn’t it?”
“No dude,” Dean huffs a laugh. “This is my apartment.”
“Oh.” Cas looks around the room with a new appreciation and Dean tries not to blush. It’s not great. He hasn’t done much with it other than to stack some records on the dresser. The living room is more his space.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, she turned herself in yesterday.” Was it yesterday? He really needs to figure out what time it is.
“She-what? Why would she do that?” Cas asks, looking as bewildered as Dean had felt when Victor had stopped by to check on him and give him the update.
Dean shrugs. “She confessed to everything, including making the deal to kill her parents, and is angling to get her sister out of prison. She had to break her sister’s contract first and her own so she’d live long enough to explain everything. Her sister will probably be cleared of all charges, charged with perjury and sentenced to some jail time, but she’s already more than paid that time so she’ll likely be set free as soon as Annie’s officially convicted.”
“Wow,” Cas says, food entirely forgotten. “That’s… a lot.”
Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “She also… Ugh, nevermind. I don’t want to say it out loud.”
“Tell me.”
Dean pulls a face. “She told the press everything. Not just about her and her sister, but about us too.”
Cas frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I can’t leave my apartment because the press is camped outside waiting to get an exclusive with the guy that killed Satan.”
Cas stares.
“Right?” Dean says. “Don’t ask me how the fuck she knows because I don’t have a clue. Claire thinks she’s a witch or something. Oh, and they’ve painted you as some sort of damsel in distress even though you did all the hard work and I just finished the job. It’s bullshit. I tried to set the record straight but Victor won’t let me talk to them until the higher-ups have given it the go ahead and drafted up a script.”
Castiel takes on a perplexed expression and says, “I don’t care what they think, Dean. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I’m not worried ,” Dean says, “but they should know the truth. They think I’m some kind of hero, but I’m not. You are. We’d all be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
Cas bites back a smile. “Dean, you stood up to Lucifer. You knew there was nothing you could do to stop him, but you never backed down. You didn’t leave me on the side of the highway when you discovered what you were up against and you didn’t run even when I begged you to in the woods. I think you’re a hero.”
Heat rushes into Dean’s cheeks and he looks away. Who fucking says that? “Don’t make it weird, dude.”
Cas rolls his eyes and cleans his plate.
.
Castiel
.
The next days, weeks, months, pass too quickly to track. Cas tries to get a hotel room when he realizes how many people are staying with Dean, but Dean insists he stay and explains that between him, Sam, and Charlie, there are plenty of places for people to sleep. Cas is secretly relieved. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to stay in a hotel room again. That’s where this all started.
Soon enough, they have to leave to go back to their own lives anyway. Benny has already pulled in all the favors he has to get his shifts at the fire station covered; Jo is restless and when the call comes for a hunt three days after Cas wakes up, she takes it; Claire is the only one Cas is truly sad to see go, not that he doesn’t like everyone else but they’re a bit… Well, they’re a lot.
But Claire too has a career that revolves around helping people and she can’t stay away for long. When she gets the call about a school shooting in Missouri she makes sure Cas has her number and then she’s gone. On a plane within hours. Cas’s heart swells with pride and joy every time he thinks about where life has taken her: the best trauma psychologist for teens in the country. Dad knows, they both could have used one when they were young. Actually, he could use one now.
Then it’s only him and Dean. Charlie and Sam still stop by almost daily and Gabriel pops in whenever the mood strikes, but for the most part he and Dean have the apartment to themselves. It doesn’t take long for Dean to tire of pacing the floors and decide to chance a venture out to the grocery store. He returns half an hour later in a foul mood with only a handful of items after being stalked through the store by the press and general public alike.
Cas tries not to feel too special that one of the few things he brings back Castiel’s requested body wash is one of them. While he’s not exactly homesick, there are a few comforts of home that he misses. Gabriel brought him his cat the first time he arrived after Cas woke up. The second time he came was a day later with allergy pills for Dean. He doesn’t stay long when he does drop by. Cas thinks he feels guilty and Dean’s silent scowling certainly doesn’t help, but all Cas can do is treat him normally and hope that with time their relationship will go back to how it was before. He’s already apologized for how he treated him about the whole finding his Grace thing. It’s funny, the perspective that can be wrought after a few millennia of restored memories.
As for Cas, he figures he should probably be coming up with a plan for getting his life back on track, but he only makes it as far as calling his boss to quit his job and canceling his lease on his apartment. He lets Gabriel deal with packing his things and putting them in storage. Where to go from there… he isn’t sure. Without his job, he has no reason to stay in Virginia-Claire’s home base is Chicago, although she’s rarely not traveling, Dean is in D.C., and Gabriel in New York.
Where should he go? What is he going to do? He remembers everything now of course-at least everything his human brain is capable of retaining. That only makes everything more difficult. He remembers Dean. He remember’s Dean’s soul . He is absolutely besotted with him in a way that doesn’t make sense after knowing him only a handful of weeks. They went through a traumatic event together, but this is more than that for Castiel.
He feels a connection with Dean that he hasn’t felt before-in either lifetime, human or angel. A significant bond. The only comparable memory he has is the way Other Cas spoke of his Dean and his cross-dimensional quest to find him and bring him home. With that in mind, his problems don’t seem so insurmountable. It will take time and patience, but (he thinks of the bright blue-white glow of Dean’s soul) it will be worth it.
The first step is asking him on a date, something he isn’t willing to do while he’s living with Dean. But days turn into weeks and still, Castiel stays. Claire says he should just bite the bullet and get it over with, but if Dean says no… Castiel doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable in his own home.
He’ll ask. He will.
He and Claire talk about more than Castiel’s sad crush on Dean. They talk about their childhood and catch each other up on their missing years. Cas doesn’t talk about Lucifer or the explosion in the parking garage and Claire doesn’t talk about all the time between the last day they saw each other and Singer Home. But it works. And it’s good.
While the media may have painted Castiel as the damsel in distress to Dean’s white knight, Dean’s full report on the events brought Castiel to the attention of Dean’s employers. According to Dean, they’d love nothing more than to turn him into their little lab rat and run tests to see how much of his angel abilities have carried over despite his lack of Grace. Now that he remembers being an angel they’re curious how much of his combat skills and strategic abilities he’s gotten back.
It’s upsetting to Dean, but Castiel quietly accepts a job with the stipulation that Dean is in charge of Castiel’s “training” once he’s back from paid leave as they wrap up Annie’s trial. When Dean finds out he quietly hangs up on Victor and turns to Cas who is across the room scooping spaghetti out of the pot.
“Really?” Dean snaps.
Castiel pauses. “Would you... prefer alfredo?”
“Cut the crap, Cas. Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna accept the job?”
Castiel tucks his chin to his chest and goes back to serving dinner. “You would have tried to talk me out of it.”
“Damn right I would have. It’s a bad idea.” Dean jerks open the silverware door and digs out two forks before slamming it shut.
“I disagree.” Cas sets the plates on the table and sits in his seat. Dean drops down beside him and slides him a fork. “I need to do something, Dean. I may not be an angel anymore, but… Maybe I could be a guardian again. We didn’t do well protecting humanity, but I’d like the chance to do better.”
Dean stares at him, a forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth, forgotten. Castiel ignores him and eats his food. Eventually, Dean stuffs his forkful into his mouth and for once he chews and swallows before speaking.
“Well welcome to the team then, partner.”
Castiel looks at him curiously. Either he’s making a cowboy reference like all of those old west movies he made Cas watch with him or he means-
“Victor’s retiring. Says taking on Lucifer and making it out the other side alive is as good as it’s gonna get and he may as well hang his hat on it. And something about me being in good hands, but whatever. If I’m going to be training you and I need a new partner anyway.” He shrugs and sticks another forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. “You’re it, partner.”
Castiel stares while his heart flutters in his chest. This both simplifies and complicates things. What is the government’s policy on interoffice relationships?
“Is that… acceptable to you?” He has to ask.
Dean pulls a face. “Course I am. If it can’t be Victor, you’re the next best thing, man.”
“Okay.” Cas fluffs his fork through his pasta as he gathers his courage. “Would it be acceptable to you… No, I don’t. Nevermind.”
Dean puts down his fork. “What? What’s going on?”
Cas presses his lips together, heart thundering in his chest. He makes a decision and puts down his fork and presses his palms to the cool wood of the table and looks up to meet Dean’s worried gaze.
“Would like to accompany me to dinner tomorrow night?” He holds his breath as Dean stares.
“Me?” Dean eventually asks, voice strangled. “Like… for a change of scenery or like-,”
“I’m asking you on a date, Dean. I’d like to date you.”
“Oh.” Dean picks up fork and fiddles with it rather than eating. “I- yeah. I mean, if you’re sure.”
“I am.” Castiel doesn’t hesitate. “Are you? You don’t sound… sure.”
“I… I mean I’ve thought about it obviously.” Castiel isn’t sure what’s so obvious about that but he listens raptly, sensing a ‘but.’ Dean works the words around in his mouth before he speaks them. “You’re an angel, man. Or at least you were. What would you want with me?”
One thing Cas has noticed over the past several weeks is Dean’s strange lack of self-confidence. It’s one thing he plans to fix if Dean will give him the chance, but it’s not something he can fix tonight. So he says nothing and simply watches Dean, waiting for a real answer.
Dean shifts under Cas’s steady gaze and avoids his eyes until finally he releases a gust of air and throws up his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“Okay fine. Fine! Dinner tomorrow. It’s a date.”
Cas smiles and ducks his head as he returns to his meal. He puts another bite into his mouth and glances up at Dean through his lashes and catches him looking at him with a strange soft expression. Cas smiles, cheeks round and full and Dean drops his stare, a grin of his own reluctantly curling his lips.
He clears his throat. “Did you make garlic bread again?”