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It was raining when it happened, practically storming. Not even the thick bunker walls were enough to drown out the sounds entirely and Dean could see the wild, untamed clouds in Castiel’s eyes as clearly as he had seen them through the open front door before Castiel had slammed it shut behind them.
“What, the hell, happened, Dean?” Castiel growled and Dean, in his confusion, wondered whether Sam could hear the thunder in his voice as loudly as he could.
“What, you mean me saving your ass back there? You’re welcome, man.”
Castiel growled again and strong hands shoved Dean roughly against a wall before he could walk away, Sam making a shocked, aborted movement towards them, wide eyed and confused.
“You almost died, Dean.” There was a full hurricane in Castiel’s eyes then, dark and dangerous and desperate, “Have you really no notion of how close it was?”
Dean scoffed and pushed back against the hands bunched in his jacket with little success. Castiel the human was still stronger than him when he got like this.
“Dude, seriously? Yeah it was close but I’m fine. And in case you hadn’t noticed, you came even closer. That son of a bitch was literally about to have you for breakfast, and not in a sexy way.”
Castiel’s voice only darkened, “And so you thought you’d offer yourself up as an alternative?”
Dean shrugged. What was another attempted self-sacrifice for the sake of family?
“It was either maybe-me or definitely-you. Kind of a no-brainer if you ask me.”
Something wild flashed through Castiel’s eyes and for a breathless moment, Dean saw the same bright something in them that he used to see before Castiel smote something. Dean felt rough hands spin him away from the wall before, with an honest to god roar of rage, Castiel practically threw him away from him. He almost tripped clean over his own feet from the force of it, or maybe from the lightning in Castiel’s eyes.
“What the hell, dude?” Dean looked to Sam, but his brother looked about as lost as he felt.
“You do not make those kinds of decisions for me, Dean Winchester.” Castiel’s fists were clenched at his sides and Dean almost wanted to back away.
“Cas, man – ” Castiel’s gaze didn’t leave Dean even for a second but Sam was silenced by the hand that reached toward him, palm open in a mockery of the angelic power it used to hold. Sam shot an apologetic look at Dean and Dean felt the beginnings of anger stir in his own chest as Castiel stepped forwards.
“We have plans for a reason.”
“Uh yeah, and those plans go out the window whenever one of us is on the line, you know that! What the hell, Cas, you wanna get eaten?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Then what the hell is this about because, seriously man, what is your problem?”
And Dean’s back hit the wall for the second time, harder than before and he felt the air leave his lungs like a punch.
“My problem,” Castiel growled so low that Dean would probably have been officially turned on if he hadn’t been so pissed and maybe, just a little, terrified, “is that your continued lack of self worth terrifies me and the speed at which you jump at the chance to sacrifice yourself shows a level of selfishness I can no longer ignore.”
“Screw you, man.” Dean gripped Castiel’s wrists and tried to prize his hands free of his jacket, “You calling me selfish now?”
“Do you ever stop to think that maybe we might want you alive?” Dean looked away, refused to look at the natural disasters happening behind Castiel’s eyes, “Do you ever maybe consider the fact that I would have rather been left? I knew the dangers of the hunt, same as you. I stuck to the plan. I was happy just knowing you’d got out.”
Dean looked at him then, every petty feeling he’d been pushing down under layers of denial jumping to the surface as Castiel talked.
“You do not sacrifice yourself for me, Dean Winchester!” Castiel’s voice was raised and Sam’s eyes, Dean could see over Castiel’s shoulder, were wide and sad, “I can’t stop you giving yourself for your brother but you DO NOT GET TO DO SO FOR ME!”
Tears were springing up amongst the storm clouds and Dean could hear the rain beating down against the door.
“WHY?” Dean roared, feeling the ugly claws of abandonment issues and self hatred scratching at his insides, “WHY THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN CARE ALL OF A SUDDEN?”
Castiel’s eyes narrowed and Dean didn’t stop to wonder whether it was out of anger or confusion.
“You know what? I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you, but I’m not gonna apologise for saving your ass and I’m not gonna promise never to do it again! I knew what I was doing and now we’re both fine so get the fuck off me!”
“NO! YOU ALMOST DIED, DEAN, AND – ”
“AND SO WHAT IF I HAD?” Dean’s words thrashed against the bunker walls like years of pent up insecurities against a best friend who kept leaving. “YOU’VE MADE IT CLEAR OVER THE YEARS THAT YOU CAN DO JUST FINE WITHOUT ME SO WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?”
“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” Castiel roared and slammed his hands back into Dean’s chest and then stopped.
His eyes went wide and Dean couldn’t even hear the storm anymore.
Castiel stumbled back, his own words echoing in his ears and his eyes closing against them. Sam was looking between them like he was watching a tennis match, but Dean could only see Castiel.
This wasn’t how this fight was supposed to end. He didn’t know how he was expecting it to go, whether one of them would have apologised or Castiel would finally have left again, but this...
This was his breath coming short and Sam’s mouth hanging open. This was his chest constricting and his legs shaking as hands no longer held him up against the wall. This was Castiel looking small and devastated and about a thousand other awful things on the other side of the hallway, back pressed up against the opposite wall and looking for all the world like he wished he could fly away.
“What?” Dean asked finally, voice coming out thick like he hadn’t spoken in years.
Castiel opened his eyes but they did not meet Dean’s.
“Cas, what did you just say?”
“I – ” Castiel began, still staring at the floor, “I did not mean to – I’m sorry.”
Dean had too many questions, too many thoughts and suddenly he couldn’t even remember how to string together a sentence. It was a long, painful minute before he could even organise the white noise in his head. Or maybe it was a second. Or maybe an hour.
“How long?” He asked and wondered why, in all of the static ringing in his ears, that’s all he came up with.
Castiel closed his eyes again and Sam clearly didn’t want to be there.
“Always.” Castiel said, though his voice was so small Dean wondered how it had been drowning out the thunderstorm not five minutes ago. Now he could only just hear it over the beating of his own heart.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered, and what else was there to say? Well, thousands of things probably and later Sam would kick his ass for not thinking of any of them. But now it’s all he could think. He didn’t even know what the thumping in his chest meant. Just...son of a bitch.
Castiel looked up and for a second Dean saw a sadness in his eyes that almost brought him to his knees, but then there was nothing. There were no storm clouds, no rain, no lightning; just an endless stretch of nothing, grey and lifeless. He straightened his back and, not for the first time, Dean saw Castiel the soldier.
“Forgive me,” Castiel said, his shoulders stiff and his face blank, “if I have caused you any discomfort. I had not intended to ever tell you of my feelings as I am under no delusions that they are requited. I hope – I hope you can forgive me.”
Dean wanted to cry, thought maybe he would have if he hadn’t been so utterly caught off guard. Castiel was walking past him before he knew it, sweeping down the hallway in a way that would have sent the trenchcoat flapping behind him if he’d been wearing it. Dean turned to watch him, opened his mouth to say...he didn’t even know.
Just before he disappeared, Castiel paused, closed his eyes again and didn’t turn to look at either of them.
“I would appreciate it,” he said, and his voice was so even it almost had Dean fooled, “if you would refrain from putting yourself in danger on my behalf in the future.”
And then he was gone and Dean was staring at nothing, the soft click of Castiel’s bedroom door in the distance the only thing he heard before the faint sounds of the rain began to register again.
It didn’t sound like a storm and Dean wondered if there had ever even been one outside of Castiel’s eyes.
*
It was Sam who snapped him out of it eventually.
“Dean?” He said softly, a large comforting hand falling on his shoulder.
And Dean had crumpled, let Sam pull him in for a hug he hadn’t known he’d needed and rested his forehead on Sam’s shoulder, just for a second.
“He’s goddamn in love with me, the son of a bitch.”
“Yeah,” Sam answered, letting him go when Dean pulled back to look up at him with a frown.
“You’re not surprised?”
“That it’s finally out there? Yeah. That you two aren’t making out already? Kinda. That he’s in love with you? Not so much.”
Sam smiled sheepishly and Dean had to blink for a few seconds before he really took it in.
“You knew?”
“Dean,” Sam sighed, “Everyone knew.”
Well fuck.
“About him? Or about...” Dean looked away from his brother and swallowed. There really wasn’t a point in hiding it now was there? “Or about me too?”
He looked back at Sam and felt some kind of dam break in his chest, some of the tightness he’d been carrying for months easing. Sam looked happy for him.
“About him,” he confirmed but for the first time since they’d got home, he smiled, “You, I just hoped.”
Dean let out a breath.
Sam had hoped. Sam had hoped he had fallen in love with Cas. And boy, Dean had gone ahead and done it without even fucking realising and now Cas was sitting alone in his room and Sam was grinning at him and Dean didn’t have any fucking idea how they ended up here.
Then again, maybe he was only just realising it, but were they ever really gonna end up anywhere else?
“What do I do?”
“Well,” Sam rolled his eyes and clapped a hand down on Dean’s shoulder, “you could stand here, have your big gay freak out and leave him in there hurting, or you could just accept the fact you’re in love with the guy and go after him. Let yourself be happy for once, hell, you both deserve it.”
And maybe it would take a few months for Dean to learn to believe he did but Cas? Cas, he knew deserved all the fucking happiness in the world and maybe he could learn to overlook the fact that Castiel could do better because maybe he could learn that Cas didn’t want better.
And Dean really didn’t want Cas to want better.
He looked up at his little brother and smiled.
“Thanks, Sammy,” he breathed and was off down the hall before Sam could answer with anything other than laughter.
*
Dean figured he should feel nervous standing outside Castiel’s door. His hand was shaking as he lifted it to knock but all he felt was happiness.
He almost laughed to himself as he knocked, smiling like a teenage girl outside Castiel’s door, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet with nothing but the thought of Cas running through his head and sending lines of electricity through his veins, and when Castiel didn’t answer he didn’t feel rejected.
And how about that.
Dean Winchester didn’t feel rejected.
He felt awesome.
He opened the door, gently despite how much he wanted to burst into the room and kiss Castiel until he felt this happy too, and slowly stepped around it, closing it again behind him with a soft click.
Castiel was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, facing the door but not looking up at it. He knew who it was. Dean couldn’t help but smile, small but happy, at the top of his head.
“If you’ve come to reiterate your lack of romantic interest in me I would rather not hear it.” Castiel said, voice muffled by his hands and clearly thick with tears he was trying to hold back. Or failing to hold back judging by the shaking in his shoulders.
It hurt Dean’s heart a little to hear it and he couldn’t help but kneel in front of him, hovering a hand over his knee, suddenly nervous.
“Actually,” he said, hand finally finding the solid warmth of Castiel’s knee and rubbing a thumb there gently, “I was coming to tell you that you left before the good part.”
Castiel froze and Dean could almost hear the cogs in his head turning, almost picture the adorable way he usually tilted his head when trying to work something out. Dean reached up and took both Castiel’s hands in his own, pulling them away from his tear streaked face and forcing Castiel to meet his eyes.
“Hey,” he said softly, squeezing the warm hands wrapped in his own, “you don’t just tell a guy you love him and leave before the big ending.”
Castiel let out a shaky breath and Dean thought he saw something like hope blossom behind his eyes.
“What’s the good part?” Castiel asked and Dean had had about fifty different speeches planned for this moment while he was standing outside the door but he’d managed to forget just how easily those blue eyes rendered him speechless when he’d thought he could impress Castiel with poetry.
I love you too, his mind screamed but somehow he couldn’t quite say it.
“This,” he said instead and leant up to press their lips together.
Castiel melted into him almost immediately and Dean couldn’t help but smile into it as Castiel sighed and slipped forward off the bed to sit on Dean’s lap where he knelt on the floor. Dean released his hands to wrap them firmly around Castiel’s waist and he felt long fingers thread themselves through his hair and soon both of them were grinning too hard for it to even be a kiss.
Castiel opened his eyes to find Dean already looking at him. The way he smiled then made Dean think that maybe he’d heard his unspoken I love you too anyway, through his eyes or his lips or the way his hands were stroking their way up and down Castiel’s back, and he couldn’t help but kiss him again because one day, maybe later that evening, Dean would say it out loud but right now it’s enough just to look at the clear blue skies in Castiel’s eyes.
He kisses him again and again and outside he hears nothing but birds.