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Dean is angry-driving. It’s his favorite kind of driving, well, he prefers happy-driving while singing loudly at one Castiel trying to look annoyed, but right now, angry-driving is what he needs. When he’s driving furious, he lets himself exceed the recommended speed limit; he doesn’t go anywhere, he just accelerates, goes straight ahead, turns left, turns right, and left again without thinking. The music fills his ears; it is so loud he doesn’t even hear the irritable drivers honking at him.
He tries to keep his head in the road, he really tries but he… can’t. Driving is something so easy to him his mind flies around thoughts or memories. He can think whatever he wants while he lets himself go somewhere. That’s not what he wants, because he has taken the car with the purpose of running away of his mind but it doesn’t work, so he approaches the subject reluctantly.
At this time he’s thinking about what pissed him off earlier and he’s starting to get mad at himself, but Dean can’t bring on why. He knows it’s about his feelings, but he isn’t good at them, Castiel is the one who’s always more secure of them. He’s trying, but it’s too difficult. He starts to sing the lyrics of the current song therefore.
Wow, that for sure isn’t helping him. This song? Right now? Oh, fuck off. He takes out the cassette and throws it to the passenger seat. He can drive without music.
Great, now he can’t stop feeling guilty, as if something heavy is pressing his shoulders down the leather seat. As if something is constraining his throat and he can’t swallow his own spit, like when he’s sick. To be honest, he’s sick of himself right now.
He shakes his head but the thoughts don’t go away. He wants to confront them, but he doesn’t at the same time. There’s a voice telling him everything that happened is Castiel’s fault. That he was asking too much, something Dean can’t reciprocate.
Or maybe it’s yours because you went out of the room without saying anything.
Yes, he had freaked out and he isn’t proud. At least it has stopped, and his mind is clearer. Dean looks at his hands and realizes his fists are white of gripping the steering wheel too hard, almost breaking it. He comprehends he had been acting childish. It’s time to face his feelings.
While he turns left the hand wheel he knows he’s sad. But also a little bit angry, curiously with himself. He’s also nervous. And happy. There are a lot of blurry feelings, and he focuses in the one which seems more definite.
It reaches him like a bullet. Why has he been so blind when everything was crystal clear? Dean smacks his forehead on the steering wheel, honking at a careless driver.
Castiel is sat at the edge of his bed, looking at his fingers. His trench coat is wrinkled and he looks sadder. He should be angry, but the truth is he’s worried –well, he’s a little pissed off- but mostly worried. Why had Dean reacted that way?
He says to himself by the tenth time that hour he’s just going to wait five minutes more, when loud music reaches the windows and fills his ears. He frowns suspicious and goes out of the room to see what’s happening, but when he’s half way he realizes what song is playing.
He runs, he could teleport perfectly, but he runs because his mind is too busy with his sight. He reaches the Impala but Dean talks first across the rolled down window, looking at his eyes directly.
“Cas, I love you too”
Castiel sighs happily and leans forward to give Dean a soft kiss, feeling his smooth lips. Both know Dean will explain himself later and they will talk, but that can wait right now. Dean sticks his hand out of the window and takes Castiel’s, squeezing a little. The angel smiles when his boyfriend repeats “I love you too” over their lips again.