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Dean hobbles his way towards the bathroom, he can already feel the tip sticking out. Out of nowhere Cas comes around the corner smashing into Dean. Dean winces as he jumps and holds his foot tucked behind his other leg.
“Damn it, Cas” He shouts in a split moment of pain.
Cas peers down at Dean’s bare foot as he unsteadily settles it back down, traces of blood seeping out in small amounts. Cas switched his gaze to his own foot, the tip of his toenail dripping with blood, but it wasn’t his.
“I-Im Sorry,” Cas stutters, his face softening with guilt. He didn’t mean to; he would never hurt Dean intentionally. Dean already had a lot going on, hunts and stuff, the amount of time Cas had healed his cuts and bruises and woke him up from unconsciousness. Dean already got hurt enough as it was, he didn’t need Cas being an obstacle as well. Cas bends down, casting his long fingers towards Deans foot.
Dean limps backwards, “Cas, its fine, I need the reminder anyway.” He waves Cas off, shoving past him in a dart for the bathroom, knowing fully well, that he is losing time.
He wanted to continue his conversation with Cas, apologise for yelling at him, explain what he meant about the reminder. Anger fills his mind, regretting saying what he did. He didn’t mean a reminder of how Cas hurt him although he was sure Cas would interpret it that way, no, what he actually meant was a reminder that he was still mortal. That if he was reckless, he would get hurt and maybe even die. To be careful because he didn’t want to leave, not when he finally had something to live for. A hidden crush, a secret promise land. Cas was that to him. He was Dean’s entire world. He wanted to speak to Cas in general as well, he took any opportunity he was given. Anything to be close to Cas. But this was different, he couldn’t bare the thought of accidently dropping the kids off at the pool in front of him; that would kill him. Kill him from the inside out, the embarrassment he would feel. The pain and humiliation.
Dean sat there, his face turning red, the coolness of the seat slowly dimming as his body warms it up. His breathing jagged and the pressure in his abdomen increasing. One final push, squeezing and clenching is body. Dean gasps as his body finally relaxes again, the poop easing itself out and crashing into the water. Little bits splatter upwards coating Deans raw cheeks.
Panting he reaches his hand out to one side and his hands meet the freezing metal. His brows raise and his eyes widen slightly as he swivels his head towards the holder. It was empty. Dean curses at Sam in his mind. How could he not have replaced the toilet paper when he last used it; despite Dean doing it on occasion as well. He cursed Sam again before giving in to hopelessness.
Sam was out on a run so the only person there to help him was Cas. Dean choked on the smell of his own shit. It was bad, he never thought he’d regret eating a spicy taco so much. From where he stood, he could either call Cas for help, stay in there until Sam got home or smear shit all over his pants until he got to his room, then he would change, get the toilet paper, and wash his clothes. All seemed like very bad ideas.
Suddenly there is a knock on the door.
“Ah, who is it?” Dean sounded, regretting it again, what a stupid question, he already knew who it was.
“It’s just me, Dean. I am a celestial being, I can feel your pain, your struggle. So, I brought you toilet paper.”
Damn it, damn it, damn it. Well, I guess the decision has been made for him. He flicks the lock open uncertainly in a moment of vulnerability. Cas just sticks his hand with the toilet paper through the gap in the door, his alluring blue eyes facing away, giving Dean privacy.
Cas said that he could feel Deans suffering, did that mean he could feel his love as well or was that hidden. Perhaps Cas could feel it, but he chose to ignore it because he didn’t like him back.
Cas steps away from the door and closes it shut. He creeps into Deans bedroom and steals his toenail clippers. He settles himself on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest. He wouldn’t hurt Dean, not anymore. He adjusts his hands and positions the clipper under his longish toenail and chips it off. Then the next toe, and the next. He then went over every toe a second time, exposing the red and bloody skin underneath the nail. This toes sting but it was worth it because now his toenails wouldn’t hurt Dean again. If Dean wouldn’t let him heal his mistake, then he’d suffer as well.
Cas senses Dean’s presence and quickly hides the evidence.
Dean wonders into the room, wanting to continue their conversation from earlier. Dean flinches at the sight of Cas’s toes, swallowing hard. He had taken it the wrong way, the way Dean had assumed he would, but couldn’t explain further because he desperately needed the bathroom.
“Cas.” He whispers quietly, “What have you done?”
Cas avoids Deans narrowed eyes, rubbing a hand on the side of his neck briefly, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Cas, you could never hurt me, not really.” Dean takes a seat next to Cas, taking his warm hand gently and placing it on his foot. He looks up at Cas. “You can heal me, but only if you heal yourself as well.”
Cas looks up, meeting Deans gaze, he wasn’t angry with him. Cas’s hand glows yellow, Dean’s face shifts a little as he grits his teeth then let’s go. Cas moves his hand over to himself next, healing his toes, where he had cut the nails way to short.
“I didn’t-“ Cas starts,
Dean cuts him off, “It’s okay.”
They are both interrupted by Sam returning, offering them both a beer, in which Dean accepts.
He flicks on the tv and starts watching some old move he loved as a kid but was way to outdated now, even though he considered it a classic.
Cas watches Dean, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. He loved seeing Dean happy for once. Cas picked up a paintbrush which was left aside on a table, Sam still taking his time to claim it as his own and finding a home for it in his bedroom. Cas positioned himself on the sofa next to Dean, joining him watching the movie. Eventually Dean fell tired and began to rest on Cas, Deans head nestled into Cas’s chest. A warm feeling of comfort surrounded Cas like a blanket, he couldn’t get enough of these moments, the ones were Deans brain, wasn’t worried about ruining their friendship and instead just letting him be him. Cas found himself soon lightly stroking Dean’s head with the tips of his fingers. Dean leaning closer into him. Cas started to explore running his hand down and brushing past his neck.
Dean jolted in laughter. Cas grabbed the paint brush and used that on his neck. Dean wriggled trying to get free, a smile filling every corner of his face, but Cas was stronger and held him in place tickling him. Dean laughing to hard that his stomach began to hurt, twisting and tugging his way free. Dean’s laughter was contagious, and Cas’s eyes filled with joy,
Cas stopped, placing down the paintbrush letting Dean recover. Dean looked up at Cas and into his Sweet blue eyes, the same ones he had loved since they met. His face happy and content. In that moment all of Deans, worries disappeared. He could tell Cas loved him back. It was the small things, the way he knew he needed toilet paper without him having to ask, the way he cut his toenails because he didn't what to hurt him. The warmth he let off. Dean cups Cas’s perfect face in his nimble hands, pulling him in for a kiss. Cas doesn’t hesitate when Deans soft lips meet his, he’d been waiting for this. He had always sensed that Dean loved him, but he wanted Dean to be one hundred percent comfortable with it from the inside, before he made any moves. Now either of them were complaining, all their hidden feelings coming to light. They weren’t going to be friends after this; they were going to be lovers.
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"What the hell-" Sam blurts out.