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They hadn’t done that in a long time.
After so many disasters in a row, they had just given up feeling good in any way. They had given up having fun, enjoying each other’s company or talking about anything that wasn’t the plan.
Dean and Cas had been denying Sam's requests to take a night off at the local bar for more than a month - that was until one Tuesday evening they finally gave in, piling into the Impala and slamming the doors shut in an attempt to shut the younger Winchester up.
During the first half hour they drank beer while barely even talking to each other, and after that, they escalated to drinking pure vodka. A while later, Dean and Cas were watching a slightly tipsy Sam trying his best moves on the waitress, but ended up leaving the bar with a woman that had been drinking by his side.
Dean huffed a laugh, catching Castiel’s attention. “Dude’s lucky even when he fails.” He mumbled with a small smile of pride.
Castiel nodded once to acknowledge him, but went back to his own small cup of vodka. He had toned down his grace a while back, trying to get as drunk as he could in order to forget the fact that his child was lost in a different universe, possibly without any supervision, just as Mary was. He glanced at Dean and noticed he was still speaking.
“…I don’t even remember the last time I had the disposition to look for someone.” Dean was saying with his eyes towards his glass, which was being swung in circles by his right hand.
“I remember the last time I was with someone.” Cas said casually, leaning back against the seat.
“Of course you remember.” Dean chuckled with an eye roll. “You only did it once.”
“I didn’t mean April.” Castiel frowned slightly and shook his head.
“What?” Dean looked up at Cas in a quick movement, his disappointment obvious. He huffed a laugh after a second, trying to mask his feelings.
“April was not the only person I had sex with.” Castiel said with a small one-shoulder shrug.
Dean’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. He cleared his throat.
“Yes.” Castiel frowned. “Why would I joke about that?”
Dean continued to look at Castiel as if he was an alien, trying to ignore the tight knot in his stomach that came with the knowledge that Castiel had been with yet another person that was not him.
Castiel poured another shot into his glass and drank it in a second. Dean couldn’t take his eyes away from Cas if he wanted.
“Who...” Dean started in a mumble and cleared his throat. “Who was it?” He asked with a shrug, convincing himself that it would make Cas think he didn’t care.
“You surely remember Mick Davies?” Castiel asked simply, watching as Dean spit out the sip he happened to be taking.
“I’m sorry…” Dean smiled bitterly as soon as he stopped coughing, cleaning his hands on his jeans. “Did you just say Mick Davies?” He asked in the same tone, now leaning towards anger. “As in the British douchebag?” He almost yelled.
“Yes.” Cas nodded calmly, a nostalgic smile dancing on his lips before he took a sip of his own drink.
Dean pursed his lips and nodded with a huff.
Castiel continued to drink and glimpse at the TV hanging on the wall behind the bar counter. Dean was looking at him with a frown as deep as an ocean, trying to place pieces together and understand how exactly had that happened.
Minutes went by in that situation. Just when Castiel was about to say they should go home, Dean poured himself more vodka, shifted on his seat and opened his mouth to talk.
Dean knew he was pretty much drunk and shouldn’t go anywhere near that road, but he couldn’t help himself.
“When did that happen?” He asked almost quietly, afraid of his own words and the upcoming answer.
Castiel pursed his lips in consideration for a second.
“Well, after the incident with Ramiel, I wasn’t feeling fine. I was feeling very alone and… unwanted.” He said.
The words cut Dean like a knife, just as Castiel unconsciously intended, bringing back all the guilt over not being able to express himself to Cas when he was about to die.
Cas took a sip of his drink.
“I had Mick’s phone number since we first met and when I remembered that, I also remembered that he was the first person to actually act on his interest in me and that felt… good.” He said, and placing his glass back on the table. “So I called him and we met at a bar. We talked a lot about our lives, visions, wishes and feelings, and then he invited me over to the hotel he was staying in that same town.”
“That’s it?” Dean asked, feeling the sadness and all the raging emotions rising in his throat. He should not have drank. “So you were dating Mick off all people, and you never told me?” He continued bitterly. The words leaving an acid taste on his tongue. He nodded in anger with a huff and then swallowed thick, trying not to cry in anger.
“I didn't think you would find it important, that's why I never told you.” Castiel said and shrugged. “You and Sam never tell me about your lives, so I didn’t think it mattered.” He explained with simplicity.
Dean’s eyebrows shot up.
“Good to know.” Dean mumbled into his glass before downing the shot.
Castiel chose to ignore his comment.
“We were not dating.” He said. “We discussed the possibility in the morning, and something more serious could have happened between us if he was alive now.” Cas placed his finger on the edge of the glass and ran it around the circled glass. “We had decided to wait since the situation between you and the Men of Letters was so critical and delicate, but we never had a chance to move forward since the worst came and he was taken.”
Dean nodded, looking at his empty glass.
“Seems like you really liked him, huh?” He said and looked up. That tingling discomfort in his nose and eyes that came with the arrival of tears was strong and shaking.
“He cared about me, Dean.” Castiel looked up from his glass and locked eyes with him. “To him I wasn’t just an angel, or a tool. He wanted me close. He wanted me to be with him… it’s hard to find someone that feels that way about me.” He continued, trying to keep a steady voice.
Dean huffed an emotional and bitter laugh.
“Yeah I’m sure it is.” He said and placed the glass on the table before pushing himself up and out of the booth. “I’m, uh, I’m going home.”
Castiel shook his head and got up, passing by Dean as he was paying for their drinks. “Not that I ever need your approval, but your rude response is one of the reasons I chose to never mention anything.” He said and walked out of the bar towards the car.
The drive back to the bunker was made in complete silence, neither of them even bothering to look at each other. The situation didn’t change when they arrived, since Dean walked straight to his room and slammed the door, and Castiel stopped to find himself a book before locking himself in his own room.
The whole thing was dumb and Dean was completely aware of that. That’s why he laid in bed and did his special: overthink.
He never should have asked anything else, especially not while he was clearly drunk. He had no right to offer judgments or opinions on what he thought about whatever Castiel chose to do. But he couldn’t help feeling that Cas and Mick happened because he fucked up. Because he was the one to not say he loved Cas back when he was about to die. Because he was the one to break Cas’ heart over and over after so many years of sleeping around to avoid his feelings. He was the one that choose not to do anything, and that was what caused Cas to give up and look for someone that cared and actually did something about it.
Cas was right to do what he did, and Dean knew that. There was no pretending or denying.
Dean was well aware that Mick could give Cas everything necessary without being a frightened chicken. The dude was a good person and didn’t deserve what happened to him. But the moment Cas mentioned his name, a part of Dean seemed to rot and die. A part of him that, since the moment Cas said his name, couldn’t stop imagining them together…
He couldn’t stop imagining if Mick had been gentle enough to Cas. If he had touched Cas with delicacy. If he had kissed Cas over and over, and taken his time on those plump, chapped lips. If he had ran his hands over Cas’ body, taking in every curve and shape. If he had breathed near Cas’ ears to try and raise goosebumps from his spine. If he had registered and recorded the earthy smell he was sure Cas’ hair had. If he had made Cas’ hidden wings puff in their plane. If he had interlaced Cas’ fingers in between his own and made him feel safe. If he had made Cas feel good. If he had made Cas feel wanted, feel desired, feel needed… feel loved.
All the drinks he took seemed to rise up his throat, and with that thought, Dean ran to the sink in his bedroom before he could make a mess on the floor and the bed. He stayed bent over the sink for a few minutes, only going back to sit on the bed after brushing his teeth and feeling that his stomach was empty.
His emotions decided it still wasn’t enough, though, and before Dean could hold everything back, he was crying. He shoved his face against one of the pillows and screamed, squeezing the fabric between his fingers with all the strength left in him. Doing that seemed to bring his insides some kind of relief, along with feebleness, allowing him to calm down and hold back the rest of the tears.
After several deep and painful breaths, Dean walked to his dresser, got himself some comfortable clean clothes and then walked to the bathroom to try to get rid of the thick smell of booze and vomit. The water was warm and strongly pressured, quickly relaxing his muscles and being as he washed his hair and his body.
It didn’t take long for all his previous thoughts to come back to his mind in a more organized manner.
Sadness seemed to take over the water as if trying to drown him, and the tears returned - but not in anger like before. Instead, the tears rolled quietly and painfully down his cheeks, mixing with the water and disappearing down the drain.
Every tear that left his eyes seemed to open a wound in his chest, and he wasn’t sure if he felt the pain more in his lungs or his heart, but both seemed to be about to give up to the pain ad stop working.
It was all very adolescent. All the crying while slightly drunk, suffering in the shower because someone he loved had been with someone else. He was glad this was the first time he was feeling all of it, because he was sure he wouldn’t wish that pain to his worst enemies.
Dean decided it all came down to his jealousy, but there was nothing he could to about it anymore. Cas had slept with Mick, he even had feelings for the guy. There was no changing the past.
The future, though, was a different story.
Dean turned off the shower with a quick movement and reached for his towel. He dried himself poorly and dressed in his sweatpants and a t-shirt, both sticking to his still damp body. He left everything in the bathroom and walked non-stop towards Cas’ room.
He knocked three times and watched Castiel open the door a few seconds later with a scowl on his face, which was illuminated only by the lamp by the side of the bed. He had an open book in his hand, his hair was completely disheveled and for once, he was not wearing his suit, but jeans and an old t-shirt.
Dean’s heart was hammering in his ears and turning every feeling into something weird and strong that cursed through his veins.
“That's what you see me as? Someone who only cares about you or thinks about you when we need your powers?” Dean asked. He raised his hands and passed both index’s fingers over his eyes to get rid of the unfallen tears.
“I can’t lie to you, Dean.” Castiel said, closing the book he was holding and walking back to the bed to leave it there. “That is how I feel sometimes.”
“It’s not true.” Dean shook his head. “I’m just an asshole that doesn’t know how to talk about things that actually matter and let you know how important you are.” He said and scoffed at himself.
Castiel sat on the bed and looked to the side towards the dresser, clearly avoiding Dean’s eyes.
“I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” Dean said. The scoff now as far away from his tone of voice as possible. “There’s no use in justifying myself after all this time, but I need you to know that you are important to me as more than just an angel. I don’t give a crap about your powers or the lack of them, as long as you’re here.”
Cas looked up and met Dean’s eyes. He was still standing on the door, shoulders slightly down.
“It hurts like hell when you leave and it hurts even more because I could have said something. Every single damn time I could have said something to make you stay, but I never did.” Dean continued, his words and expression bitter, clearly hating himself. “That’s how you ended up with him… and I would never blame you for that. Hell, I’m happy you found in him what you needed!” He shrugged helplessly. “As long as you’re happy, Cas, I don’t give a fuck about what happens.”
Castiel continued to listen in silence. He looked at Dean with his blue eyes fallen and glassy in sheer heartache. Neither of them knew what to do.
Dean was about to turn around and leave when one more thought came to him.
“You know… it wasn’t my intention. It really wasn’t supposed to be like that.” Dean found himself saying. “You weren’t supposed to have to find what you need somewhere else…” He continued, and then pointed at himself. “I was supposed to be the one to give you everything… anything you could possibly need.” His words were wrapped in pure pain and sorrow.
Castiel closed his eyes and Dean could see his chest moving forward strongly, clearly trying to hold back emotions.
“I was supposed to be the one to…” Dean’s voice broke, so he sighed and took a deep breath, not wanting the tears to start falling again. “…to put that smile on your face when you had good memories.” He continued, voice fading at the end of the phrase as a tear rolled down his right cheek.
Castiel pursed his lips as Dean took a deep breath.
“I was supposed to be the one to give you memorable nights.” Dean said with an impotent shrug, even though Cas had his eyes closed. “I was supposed to be the one to make you feel loved and wanted… because you are! You are so loved and wanted, Cas, and you should know that. All the time.”
Dean continued to look at Cas, who was now a silhouette slightly blurred due to the water stuck in his eyes.
“But I’m too fucked up to do that. And I lost my chance…” Dean said and cleaned the tears with his fingers again. “But I was supposed to be the one.” He finished, the last two words barely a whisper on the air.
“Then why aren’t you?” Castiel’s voice broke the glassy web Dean was weaving. He got up and Dean noticed he was crying too.
Dean opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but Cas just walked closer to him.
“Why, Dean?” Cas asked desperately. “Why aren’t you the one?” He repeated, voice strong but wavering.
Castiel stared at Dean, his chest still working fast and intensely.
Dean swallowed the new wave of tears.
“Because I don’t know how.” He mumbled. “I don’t know how to be it for you.”
It took Castiel less than a heartbeat to take the last step between their bodies and place both hands on Dean’s neck and ears, leaning in and nuzzling his left cheek. “I’m sure I’m not that complicated.” He whispered, breath brushing the corner of Dean’s lips.
Dean leaned up and just like that, they were kissing.
He was finally feeling Cas’ plump, chapped lips against his own. His hands were going unconsciously to Cas’ ribs, pulling him closer. His eyes were finally seeing an end to the crying. His heart was calming itself from the pain, though his lungs were still a little busy.
Castiel kissed him deeply with such a delicacy that it should be recorded for scientific studies. No one could possibly have that finesse and care with another person. His lips slid against Dean’s almost professionally, wetting them just right so that the left dryness could send sensations to his brain. Then again, that could simply be the effects of kissing someone loved.
Dean found himself breaking the kiss when his lungs started burning, immediately leaning his forehead against Cas’ and keeping his eyes closed. Just breathing him in. He winded both arms around Cas’ middle and pulled him even closer, keeping him in a hug.
“I’m sorry.” Dean whispered breathlessly. “I love you.”
Castiel sighed emotionally.
“I love you, Dean.” He said and pecked Dean’s lips.
They stood there in each other’s arms for a minute, until Dean’s breathing went back to normal.
“Come lay down with me.” Cas whispered and took one of Dean’s hands from around him, guiding him towards the bed. He pulled on the blankets and signaled for Dean to lay down beside him. He positioned himself by Dean’s side, and barely had a second before Dean was wrapping himself around his chest, burying his face on Cas’ neck while he pulled the blankets over them.
Reaching to the side, Cas turned off the lamp, and they kept on silent for long minutes.
“You really would have stayed with him?” Dean asked suddenly, voice slightly muffled. “Knowing I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember?”
Castiel caressed the arm Dean had over his chest.
“I can’t say for sure, Dean.” Castiel answered gently. “You never seemed anywhere near ready to act on your feelings.” He explained. “Even when I confessed myself before almost dying… or when I actually did die.”
Dean turned his head slightly and kissed Cas’ neck.
“To be honest, sometimes I think I would eventually get tired of waiting, but other times I feel like I love you too much to give up.” Cas continued. “What I am certain of, is that you would always have my heart for yourself… but maybe you wouldn’t have me.” He finished.
Dean pushed himself up and looked into Cas’ eyes. The hallway casted a faint light in the bedroom and allowed them to see each other.
“I don’t deserve you.” Dean whispered and placed a gentle finger over Cas’ lips, preventing him from arguing.
After a second, Dean took his finger away and leaned down, kissing Castiel tenderly and feeling how the angel was caressing his back the same way.
“I won’t let you go, Cas.” He whispered against Cas’ lips. “I’ll never let you go again… I’ll be what you need.”