From here on I have to give thanks to my new beta angel FionaLaFleur!
Now, let's see how Cas reacts to that unexpected kiss we ended on last time, shall we! I'd love to hear your thoughts!! <3
~oOo~oOo~oOo~
It was hard and uncoordinated. Dean heard how Cas released a surprised grunt as he was dragged forward, but his lips felt chapped and soft and perfect. Dean couldn't help but close his eyes, savouring the contact, engraving every detail to memory so he could add it to his collection, revisit it later when this was over and he'd be alone again.
The wall in his back was cold, but Cas was warm, a solid weight against Dean's chest that he clung to as if his life depended on it, hands fisted tightly in the lapels of that stupid, beautiful trenchcoat. Dean wanted to melt into him, wanted to crawl into that softness and warmth and build a home there, right against the sound of Cas' beating heart. He felt perfect against his lips, perfect against his body, warm and alive and right there - but Cas wasn't moving.
He had stayed perfectly still, body stiff, mouth closed and unresponsive against Dean's insistent lips.
Dean retreated. His eyes opened. His hands unclenched, leaving crumpled fabric in their wake.
He stared at Cas with wide eyes, slightly panting, desperate and scared for a reaction.
"Dean, you're drunk", was what Cas said, his tone low and steady and...empty. His eyes were big, his lips slightly swollen. Dean could have cried from how beautiful he was.
But his expression was blank.
Dean felt his chest contract painfully, enough that he was sure his heart would be smashed into pieces, leaving sharp, pointed fragments to slice and carve him from the inside out until there was nothing left but empty space.
"'M not that drunk", was all he could mumble, watched as Cas lifted a hand, finally moving, two fingers reaching out, just hovering in front of his forehead.
"Let me", Cas said, and it was so soft Dean couldn't stand it. He had to close his eyes when the fingers touched him, like a gentle caress, sparks of cool grace flowing into his body and removing the last traces of alcohol from his system. Then they were gone, the grace and the fingers, and Dean could breathe again.
"Feeling better?"
"Yeah." Dean swallowed hard. "Thanks."
Cas nodded sadly, and then he turned. Even though everything in his body seemed to hurt, Dean still found himself reaching out, longing to be closer.
"Hey." Dean's hand hovered uselessly in the air between them for a second, drawing it back was an act of willpower. "Where're you going?"
Cas stood, gave him a small smile.
"It's fine, Dean. You can just go back inside. And I..." He sighed, and it sounded like a great effort. "I'll go home."
Home? What did he mean go home?
"Home...with..."
With him? Not with him, please, not after-
"Home to the bunker", Cas clarified, and the relief flooding Dean dimmed the pain in his chest for a moment.
"You can't", he said. "I drove us."
Cas nodded.
"I'll get a cab."
"Bullshit, man."
Dean knew he couldn't let him out of his sight now. Looking at Cas was the only thing that was keeping Dean from falling apart at the seams. He wouldn't have wanted to stay anyway. There was nothing left for him here.
"I'll just go home too. Been a long night."
"Don't you want to return to your new acquaintance?"
That tiredness in Cas' voice was back. Dean just wished he knew what it meant.
"Why would I want that?" After...
"To forget."
The words hit Dean like bullets.
So that's what you want? Dean knew he couldn't if he tried.
"Forget what?"
He knew the answer. He didn't want to hear it. He had to hear it.
"Forget...this."
Cas made a vague gesture, but Dean understood perfectly. The look on Cas' face said it all. The angel's eyes lowered to the ground, squeezed shut, pained.
Dean swallowed hard, fought against the tears stinging in his eyes.
"I'll just get my stuff and we can go home", he mumbled, pushing past Cas. The angel didn't look up.
"Yes, Dean", was the last thing he heard before the door closed behind Dean with a dull finality.
~oOo~
The drive back was a strained affair, the air thick with tension and silence.
Cas kept staring out the window, tried not to notice the way Dean's jaw was set in a hard line, how his hands clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles white against the black leather. He tried even harder not to think about how those hands had been fisted just as desperately in the fabric of his coat not too long ago, how those lips, now pressed together tightly, had felt soft and pliant as they moved against his own.
He had to turn his head away, closed his eyes.
He had wanted to respond so desperately, had wanted to melt into the kiss, the touch, the warmth...but he couldn't. The feeling of Dean's lips against his, finally experiencing what he'd imagined countless times. But he hadn't been able to enjoy it, not really, not like this.
Cas hadn't been completely sure what had provoked Dean to do it, probably a combination of things: his intoxication fuelling the possessiveness he seemed to feel towards Cas, the protectiveness that came with it and that Cas couldn't get himself to actually mind, misguided as it might be. The desperation behind Dean's words had been obvious, how hard he had tried to convince Cas not to leave with someone else, how much it seemed to mean to Dean. And as little right as Dean had to make such demands, as infuriating as it had been in the moment, Cas couldn't help but cling to the thought that it had all come from a place of caring...
To be honest, Cas hadn't really thought Dean would even notice him leaving, not with him being so thoroughly occupied himself. Dean had left him alone as soon as they arrived at the bar. Cas could take a hint, thank you very much. It had been a surprise to find Dean interfering, arguing, and then...kissing him.
Cas certainly hadn't expected that.
But then, he supposed, neither had Dean.
He had looked so devastated when the kiss broke, even more so after Cas cleared his head from the remaining effects of alcohol in his blood.
That Cas had expected.
It had been his desperation leading his actions, no doubt, a desperate cause asking for a desperate measure, Dean's head overwhelmed and causing him to act on instinct, anything to make Cas react to his words and follow his plea. That was all, Cas was sure, no matter how much he wanted it to be different.
But it had all been there in Dean's face, plain as day, the shock and pain staring back at him once he could think clearly again, a sight Cas had never had to endure in any of his dreams about this moment. In his dreams, Dean hadn't been drunk in the first place, of course, his desperation of another sort entirely, and he had smiled at Cas when they parted, soft and happy and beautiful.
At least Cas hadn't led him on further. It was hard, controlling his vessel's -no, his body's- reactions to Dean's touch, he remembered how he had to ball his hands into fists to keep them from reaching out and winding around Dean, twitching at his sides with the impossible need to pull Dean in, hold him close and never let go. He had wanted to move his lips in sync to Dean's, explore the way they'd give beneath his when he pressed closer, flick out his tongue and get a taste...
In all honesty, Cas wasn't sure what would have happened if he'd allowed himself to indulge, if he'd just ignored the little voice in his head that told him he was taking something Dean wasn't truly willing to give, that he'd regret it later, if he hadn't cared and lost himself in the moment for as long as it lasted.
Perhaps Dean would actually have let him. Perhaps he could have taken what he'd longed for, craved for so long. Perhaps he would have been able to shut that voice off and let his walls down and let Dean see everything he had bottled up behind them, let go and feel free at last, free to take and to give and to love like he'd always wanted to, just this once.
But at what cost? What price would he have paid? Cas didn't know, but it would have been too high, that was for sure.
No, he could never have taken advantage of Dean like that. Never.
So he'd held back. He'd stopped Dean, stopped himself, stopped whatever had been happening between them before it went too far and ruined everything.
Still, there had been no way he could have returned to Tony after that.
He'd gone in again shortly, yes, but just to make sure that he was fine. Cas hadn't been sure about going with Tony in the first place, he knew he couldn't bring himself to do it now. It had never been what he wanted, had been Cas' own act of desperation, the angel was well aware, born from sadness and loneliness. He felt even more sad and lonely now, but it was no use - he knew there was no one else who'd ever be able to fill the emptiness, that decidedly Dean-shaped hole that had been torn into his heart when he first laid a hand on him in Hell.
"Will you be alright?", he'd asked Tony, casting a worried glance at the bruise that had begun to form along his jaw bone.
"Yeah...I'm fine."
"I'm really sorry." Cas had meant it. He had been. "I never meant to cause you trouble."
"It's fine. And it wasn't your fault." Tony attempted a smile but winced slightly, rubbing his jaw. "I have to say, your friend has a strong right hook."
"Are you still in pain?"
Cas had healed him before, but he'd been a bit in a hurry, had concentrated on the major issues like the impending concussion from his fall. And of course, he'd had to leave just enough damage to be inconspicuous.
"Not much", Tony had shrugged, but still, Cas hadn't been able to stop himself from casually touching his shoulder, sending just a spark of grace into his body to leave the marking on his face, but ease the pain for now.
"It's..." Tony touched the bruise again. "...pretty much gone, actually."
"I'm glad." Cas had smiled, but the way he'd been shifting on his feet betrayed his discomfort. "Look, Tony, I..."
"You're not gonna get out of here, are you?", he'd interrupted with a sad smile before Cas could finish, his tone making it more a statement than a question. "At least not with me."
"No." Cas shrugged apologetically when Tony nodded.
"Shame."
"I'm really sorry for wasting your time."
"Nono." Tony waved dismissively. "I had a good time while it lasted. No waste at all."
And just for a second, Cas wished he could be free to move on and set his heart on someone else. It would be easier for sure. Less painful, too.
But he couldn't, and deep down, Cas didn't actually want to, either.
"Thank you." The smile he'd given the other man had been genuine. "I feel the same."
"Cas?"
He turned, saw Dean standing by the door, waiting for him.
"I have to go."
"I get it." Tony nodded again, gestured less than discreetly towards Dean's obviously impatient figure. "Can't say I see the appeal, but...I get it."
"He's...much more than meets the eye."
Even now, Cas couldn't keep the soft smile from his face or out of his voice, and he knew that Tony had seen it, could tell the moment he picked up on what it meant.
"Ah." He'd smiled knowingly. "I never stood a real chance, did I?"
And Cas had shaken his head, still smiling softly, couldn't wish it to be different.
"I'm afraid not."
And that had been it.
He'd left with Dean, had followed him outside, had slid into the Impala's passenger seat, and he'd sat through the drive in silence as the road flew by, taking them home.
He'd been hurting the whole way back. He knew he'd be hurting for a much longer time to come.
But he also knew that he couldn't have done anything differently. At the end of the day, he'd always go with Dean, always return to him, follow him, wherever he went.
With a sigh, Cas let the car door fall shut and followed Dean inside, just as he was meant to.