Moving On (Destiel)

59: would've, could've, should've

A/N: tonight is Oscar's, I'm so exciteddd. I really hope Austin Butler wins one, his acting in Elvis was phenomenal

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas," Dean replied out of habit, too perplexed to be able to do anything but stare into Cas' gorgeous blue eyes.

It hit him that Cas didn't have the same problem when he awkwardly cleared his throat and said: "May I... may I come in?"

Dean caught up after a time frame that shouldn't have been there, and held the door open, not lifting his eyes from Cas when he quickly slipped beside him.

Then he took the lead, careful to avoid the directions from which noises were to be heard – he didn't want to talk to the others later as to why Cas had been there; especially if he didn't have an explanation.

Cas fumbled awkwardly in the door, but Dean waved him in and made sure the door was closed and Cas was comfortably seated on the guest bed Jody had assured Dean when he and Sam moved in.

"How did you know... we were here?", Dean settled on asking, thinking it would be the right question. Nothing too awkward, not addressing whatever was between them. Not hard to answer.

Except that it appeared to be. Cas turned bright red – Dean's heart ached from how much he had missed that sight – and looked away. "I just figured. It seemed like the closest logical place for you to go."

Dean had the feeling he was lying, but he didn't press. So, what if Cas had stalked him? Unlikely, but he couldn't imagine another reason resulting in that response. He didn't mind. Really, he didn't. He was flattered. Even though it was an illusion that deemed him delusional.

"Where are you going to go... afterwards?", It was Cas who asked this time, curious but cautious.

"What do you mean?", Dean said vaguely, crossing his arms.

"You cannot live like this forever, obviously. I was just wondering... but you do not have to tell me, of course. It's really none of my business." He shrugged and didn't meet Dean's eyes.

It really wasn't. Why did want Dean to tell him anyway?

They stayed quiet for a while.

"Dean," Cas approached again. "You must ask yourself why I'm here."

"No, I'm not." Dean swallowed and he just knew what he planned to say next wouldn't come off as lazy and chill and light as he intended it too. He almost choked on the words, captivated by the intensity of Cas' gaze. "I'm asking you. With my eyes. Willing you to answer. Cause I can do that. It's called hypnotic. Only the talented people are able to do it. So. I'm willing you to respond to that question. Through my eyes."

Just why was Cas so much better at it?

For whatever reason, the corners of Cas' mouth lifted slightly, which equaled a boisterous laugh, taking it was coming from Cas.

One of the reasons he adored him. Cas always thought things were funny if he sensed Dean tried them to be funny. Just to give Dean a good feeling. Or maybe love did that to you. Finding things funny that weren't.

Well. That's what they had had, at least.

"I'm here to talk to you," Cas said amused and Dean realized his smile had probably been condescendingly. He had made fun out of Dean's dumb answer. He didn't care. He had seen Cas smile. There was a lively feeling in that empty body of his again.

"Duh." Dean drank a sip of the (water) bottle on his desk. He needed to clear his head. He needed to stay calm. His first excitement to see Cas had subsided for now – things started to take on shape in his mind. He had Cas here. He actually had Cas here to talk. All he now needed was a scheme to keep Cas busy somehow, somewhere, tonight. Far away from where he would be.