Moving On (Destiel)

66: 6. Don't mind me.

"Dean, where you going," Cas slurred when his hand slid down Dean's chest as he moved to get up. "Don't worry, just gettin' a shower." He walked around, searching his clothes together from where they had thrown them carelessly last night. Cas rolled on his stomach and watched his ass. It was a hot ass.

"Can I come?", he played with the idea in his mind, and Dean's eyes sparkled, but then he laughed and shook his head. "Cas, you don't shower in the morning, darling."

That was a good point. Dean was the only one he knew who was as weirdly obsessed with showering in the morning. He hated to rush before school or work or whatever, so not an option for him. He smiled that Dean remembered. It had been so long.

He still hadn't moved when Dean returned, who chuckled and brushed the hair away from Cas' forehead, placing a kiss there. "I wanted to make you breakfast, but we're out of milk. I'm going to grab some from the store down the street; I'll be right back, okay?"

Cas furrowed his eyebrows. He had bought new milk the day before, all in preparation for Dean, hadn't he? Or maybe it had been bread. Dean usually didn't eat cereal in the morning... he liked coffee, and THAT Cas had made sure to have plenty of. Then, some bacon and bread, no matter how many times he'd tried and explain the healthiness of cereal.

"Right back?"

"Right back," Dean grinned. "Will be no time, you won't even notice that I'm gone."

"Hm." Cas was not convinced, his legs sore, but rather hurting from the pain that there was nothing there anymore. "And is it okay for you that I'm just laying here, all lazy and unproductive and not help-"

Dean leaned down and shut him off with a light kiss. "Cas, angel, you're my boyfriend, and I like to take care of you. You just relax today, okay? I want you to lay down and do nothing, be spoiled today."

"Okay, but are you sure?" Cas gazed up and was met with a gentle look from green eyes he had fallen in love with so long ago.

"Yes, I'm sure." Dean kissed him softly on the temple. "I wouldn't want it any different."

*

Dean did a very good job. He had been part of the Mafia, after all. That must have assured him some kind of advantage, at last. He knew how to cover up a scene. How to make one, disguise one. And to fake one.

But it wasn't all lies. Because he felt dead enough inside that it had to count.

God, he hadn't seen Sam since last evening, and he hated to part like that. Maybe it was for the best, but... they had parted fighting. He didn't know how Sam would feel about that once he knew... when he found out... he didn't even know how he felt about that himself.

But there was no changing that. No way around this.

So, Dean steeled his mind and closed his face, rid it off any emotions. He didn't know if he was weak or strong for doing this, but he knew it to be the right thing.

He had had three years to think about this, and although he had never really considered this as a possibility – thought it out to entertain himself, yes, but not ever actually considered doing it – he knew just what to do, where to go. He had some places in mind, all far away from this town. Far away from Sammy, far away from Cas too.

Hell, he hadn't even gotten to see Benny or Charlie yet, hadn't gotten to say neither hello nor goodbye.

He ignored the way his heart ached when he thought of that.

It was then that his memory came up with that conversation he's had with his brother all those years ago about losing what you loved most and then having to live with the memory.