Chapter Text
“Dean.”
Dean looked up from where he was working on the Impala to where Cas had staggered into the garage. Dean was covered in oil and grease, sweat on his face and stains on his clothes, yet he was sure that he still didn’t look as bad as Cas.
Cas’ eyes were red and swollen, his face drained of colour. He was in Dean’s old clothes and even though he wasn’t that much slimmer than Dean, the clothes hung off Cas limply, making him look unhealthy and thin. His feet were bare, layered in dirt and grime that he had seemingly never washed off. His normally kempt hair was dishevelled, matte with week old grime and his beard was scraggly and sparse. His hand was gripping onto a bottle.
As he got closer, Dean could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see the uneasy stagger in his step. He didn’t like seeing Cas like that, but he of all people knew how much solace you could find in a bottle. Cas had been at the bunker for just over a month and Dean knew that it was a tough adjustment to make; losing his wings and grace and being forced to become human. So he held his tongue when Cas left for days at a time, taking no supplies and seemingly living on the street for no apparent reason. He held his tongue when Cas would bring men and women into the bunker for meaningless sex. He held his tongue as Cas looked more dishevelled with each day that passed, as if he had given up on grooming himself. Because somehow that too had become too much effort.
He held his tongue because he knew that eventually Cas would talk to him, eventually he would be ready to deal with all the shit that made their lives human. And it looked like today was the day.
“Cas” he responded, “How’re you doing?”
Cas let out a dry and hollow laugh, setting the bottle down on the ground. Dean tried to pretend he didn’t see a flash of the alternate 2014 Cas.
Cas stalked over, crowding into Dean’s space. He looked into Dean’s eyes with some emotion Dean couldn’t identify.
“I once told you that you were not the hollow and broken man I thought you to be. But now I am reconsidering whether that is in fact true.”
Dean swallowed. It was going to be one of those conversations. The ones where Cas stared through his eyes and into his soul and tore down his wall brick by brick. But Dean knew what to do this time, this time he was prepared.
“Oh yeah Cas?” he smirked.
Brick.
“Gonna change my evaluation on your forms?”
Brick.
“I’m surprised how long it took you to realise just how fucked up I am.”
Brick.
“What gave it away?”
Cas took a step back. He wasn’t shocked by Dean’s attitude, wasn’t disappointed. He just looked tired, defeated.
“Because I have been living your life, and I feel like a hollow and broken shell of a man.” Cas didn’t sound accusatory, the words held no sting. It was merely a statement, just a truth of his life now. And the fact that it was knocked a massive chunk of bricks down from Dean’s wall.
He didn’t know what to say in return so he just placed his hand on Cas’ shoulder, hoping that it conveyed support.
“I drink and eat and sleep and have sex and yet it does nothing.” Cas didn’t look up at Dean as he continued. “When I drink it burns and never soothes me, everything I eat has no flavour. And in my sleep I get no rest from visions of my brothers and sisters falling and burning. All I long for is touch and intimacy but sex just feels hollow and fleeting.” Cas shivered at his own words.
He stepped closer into Dean’s space.
“If this is how you feel, if this is what humanity is, I doubt I have the ability to go on.” he whispered.
And just like that the bricks crashed down.
Dean pulled Cas into his arms and held him tight, a million thoughts racing through his mind but having no idea which one to say. So he just held him for a moment, hating that Cas was limp in his arms, not even hugging back.
He pulled away and tipped Cas’ chin up to meet his eyes.
“What you’re feeling now ain’t humanity, Cas. It’s grief.” He stated fiercely. “It’s ugly and it’s heavy and it’s a bitch but it’s temporary. I promise you that it will pass and when you do, all those things you described will be different. You just gotta power through, buddy.”
Cas looked unconvinced, his eyes still dim and despondent.
“When you drink, it won’t be about drowning your sorrows, it’ll just be about relaxing. When you eat, it won’t just be cos’ you need to, in order to stay alive. It’s because food is great and you want to try all of it. You’ll still have nightmares from time to time, god knows I do, but when you wake up, you’ll know that it’s over.”
Cas looked like he was starting to come around. His eyes contained a glimmer of hope, and Dean knew that was all he needed.
“And sex. Well, sex is the best thing we mud monkeys have.”
Cas cracked a smile at that. A weak and sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.
“When you find someone that you like or even love, not just a random nameless person, it’ll be different. Lust is great, lust is that fire the draws you together.”
Unconsciously Dean stepped closer, his voice dropping, his eyes pinpointed on Cas’.
“When there’s lust you have that spark as you touch their skin. You share that rush for pleasure and the release feels amazing. Every kiss, every lick, every bite,”
Dean’s tongue wetted his lips and Cas followed the movement with his eyes, not understanding why his body was humming with heat and pressure at the sight.
“Everything feels like fire. Hot…”
Dean’s voice dropped even lower and Cas found himself inching forwarward.
“...and burning, all consuming.”
Cas’ lips were parted and Dean could feel each puff of stuttered breath on his face, but he didn’t move away. He didn’t seem able to. He looked into Cas’ eyes.
“Lust is great, but love… love just makes sex a million times better. Because not only do you have that all consuming fire, but you have a connection…”
More licking of the lips.
“A bond, that only you two share. One that ties your very souls together…”
Dean was less than an inch away from Cas’ face, both of them breathing heavily into each other’s mouths, sharing the same oxygen.
“...and with that connection comes a different kind of pleasure. Pleasure that comes when you become a part of someone…”
Cas felt himself inexplicably moving forward, drawn to Dean’s lips.
“...something that comes when their pleasure becomes your’s. Because you become one…”
Cas locked his eyes onto Dean’s dilated ones and leaned in, desparate to feel, to touch. And for an instant he believed he would be rewarded.
But Dean jerked back, his pupils refocusing, lust clearing from his face. He dropped his arms to his sides and took a step back.
He cleared his throat. “So, uh, that’s what you have to look forward to...I guess.”
He touched Cas’ shoulder as he passed by the ex-angel. “See ya ‘round, Cas.”
Cas heard Dean’s footsteps echoing softly on the concrete floor, heard the door close softly behind him, but still he couldn’t move. He seemed trapped in his own skin, in a body that felt like it was on fire. His lungs were seemingly not moving enough oxygen into his body, his skin was tingling, his cock was hard and straining against his jeans.
He had no idea what had happened to him, but he was fairly sure that Dean Winchester was to blame.
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That night, for the first in a long time, Cas took a shower. He scrubbed his feet, shampooed his hair and shaved his beard.
He wasn’t sure why, but he was fairly sure that Dean Winchester was to blame.