Disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about wine, since I’ve never had it before and it’ll be a while since I can, so I’m just going off what the internet told me. Apologies in advance if you're like a huge wine expert or something and get really passionate about it.
Cas threw his pen across the room in frustration, grumbling when he saw it hit the edge of one of his bookshelves.
“Maybe I should become a runner or some kinds of sports star, instead.”
He watched Dean- who was sitting on Cas’s bed, reading a cars magazine- look up and scoff.
“No, really!” Cas glared down at his notes, which were spread out before him on his desk. His laptop was shoved to one side, and he had to crane his neck to read the information on that as he studied. “They make tons of money, and they don't have to study.”
“You have asthma, you moron. You can’t run up the stairs without wheezing.”
Cas fumed to himself silently before turning back to his notes.
“What if I became a stripper?”
Dean laughed loudly, snorting.
“Stop laughing at me Dean!” he swiveled around in his chair to glare at his soulmate properly.
The Winchester finally settled down and gave him his signature smirk.
“You’re not gonna be stripper, Cas.”
“I can do whatever I want!”
“Exactly, and I know you well enough to know that you don’t want to stripper. You want to be a surgeon. And in order to do that, you’re gonna need to study.”
“I’d think you were the last person to tell me something like that.”
Dean shrugged. “Just don't want you to wake up in 10 years and realize that you could’ve been a heart surgeon but chose to pull your clothes off for other people instead.”
Cas sighed, turning back to his notes. All was quiet for a few moments, that is, until Cas got down to studying for his dreaded physics class. He made a annoyed grunt in the back of throat, watching as Dean smiled at him with his eyes still on the magazine.
“Why in the world,” Cas started complaining, getting worked up and ignoring Dean huffing at him, “am I required to take a physics class for medical school?! What does velocity have anything to do with the insides of a human body? ‘Oh sorry sir, I cannot perform your lifesaving heart surgery because I have seemed to forgotten the equation for force.’ What even-“
“It’s mass times acceleration. Even I know that.”
The Milton paused to give him a bitchface that he had learned from spending too much time around Sam. “Wow Dean, you’re sooo good! I bet you won’t even need to study, you can just walk right in the hospital right now and start performing surgeries!"
Dean rolled his eyes and decided not to retort back like usual, probably because he knew Cas would get even more worked up. He ignored the dark haired boy and stuck his nose back in his magazine. Cas continued nonetheless.
“And don’t even get me started on the requirement for English class. Don’t get me wrong, I always loved English class, but I’m not going to have to recite Shakespeare’s 12th sonnet while I’m in the process of removing a vital organ!” he took a shaky breath, getting more worked up as he went on. “And then of course there’s the requirement of-”
“Cas.”
“-a Calculus class! Why do I need to stuff my head with derivatives and integrals of functions when I should be-”
“Cas.”
“-worrying about learning the anatomy of a heart! Then there’s also the stupid requisite-”
“Cas!”
“What?!”
Dean sat up properly, putting his magazine to the side. “Calm down.”
“Calm down?!” The 19 year old was erratic as he glared daggers at his soulmate. “Excuse me, but you’re not the one-”
“I know, I know!” Dean put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “You’ve just been so tense lately and you’re starting to worry me.”
Cas sighed for the fifteenth thousandth time in that hour, putting his face in his hands. Dean was right, he was constantly studying whenever he wasn't in the classes that taught the things that he was studying. He even ate his meals with his notes and material spread out in front of him. Cas didn't sleep much either, and even when he was just hanging out with Dean, which was a lot of times, he was constantly reviewing through material in his head. Cas looked and felt horrible, and he wasn't even in medical school yet.
He supposed it was because back when he was in high school and younger, he hadn't really needed to study to get outstanding grades, so he never did. But now he had to, and he didn't really know how to study. The first month Cas had realized he would have to actually sit down and study, he spent most of the time staring at his notes and praying that the information would somehow stick in his mind. That was in the beginning of his freshman year of college, and he was a sophomore now, but he still had trouble.
He heard Dean get up and scoot towards him, then felt a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Looking up, Cas saw his soulmate on all fours on the edge of the bed, about 2 inches from where the Milton was sitting. Dean was so close that Cas could count every freckle on his face, and noticed the specks of gold in Dean’s eyes that he hadn't been close enough to see before. The Winchester smiled softly at him, and held out a hand. Hesitating, Cas looked down at his notes all spread out in front of him, until Dean murmured in his ear, “Come on, just a little break. You deserve it.”
Cas couldn't say no to that, and gave in, taking Dean’s hand and climbing into his bed with him. They lay side by side for a few silent minutes, staring at the ceiling like they had a few days ago, when Dean had broke into his window to apologize.
The silence was shattered when Dean said something that had probably been on his mind for a while.
“If I wasn't so deadly allergic to cats I bet Shiba would adore me.”
Cas smiled and stretched his arms over his head, making a content noise when his joints popped.
Shiba was in Anna’s room; Cas had gotten the habit of putting her in there whenever Dean came over, which was quite often. In fact, Dean was over a lot and Shiba had been forced to retreat from Cas’s room so often that the Milton was getting a bit worried what the cat thought of him, what with him making her leave practically all the time. His worries were always shot down though, because whenever Dean left she would hop in his lap and rub affectionately all over him.
“It’s sad that you are,” the Milton commented, “it would be great if you could actually interact with the present you got me. Besides, cats are amazing.”
Dean chuckled and turned to the side to look at his soulmate, keeping himself up with one elbow. “I know, you practically get a hard-on whenever you talk about them.”
Cas snorted and got up from his bed to walk over to his bookshelf on the far right, trailing his fingers over the spines absentmindedly. He hummed a tune softly, not really looking at the titles but just doing it because he found it comforting to be around books.
Looking at the Milton’s dreamy look, Dean added, “You also get a hard-on around books, which is all the time so-“
Dean was cut off by Cas taking a hardcover book and chucking it behind him, where Dean sat on the edge of his bed. The Milton heard a sharp laugh, and turned around to see Dean holding the book with his right hand, having caught it easily. Cas wasn’t surprised- it had been a pathetic throw- and watched his soulmate flip through the pages. He turned back to resume what he had been doing before, uninterested.
Minutes ticked by, the only sound being breathing, and Cas began to organize his books by alphabetical order (something he should've done a long time ago). He was barely getting started on the ABs when a thought occurred to him that was important enough for him to stop doing his much needed chore and turn around to look at Dean.
“Hey Dean?”
“Hmmm?”
“We need to talk.”
Dean’s face grow sober and serious, and he looked up, worried.
“There’s only two reasons someone says that when they’re soul mates, and that’s if the person’s pregnant, or breaking up with them. And I’m assuming you’re not pregnant.”
“What? No! I’m not breaking up with you.”
“So you’re pregnant?”
“Dean!”
“Ok, ok.” The Winchester smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. “What do we need need to talk about?”
Cas paused, considering how he was going to word his thoughts. He knew that this was a touchy subject for Dean, and although they had shared quite a few kisses and physicalmoments (but not in that way, and Cas shuddered to think of the sheer awkwardness that would entail from something like that) since the night Sam had gotten his scholarship, he could tell his soulmate was still very reluctant.
You know that,” Cas walked a few steps towards his soulmate, his mouth dry, “that you don't have to be…scared. It’s okay to loosen up.”
Dean raised him eyebrows, quickly becoming defensive in an instant. “I’m not frigging scared of anything.”
Arching an eyebrow, Cas shot back, “Must we talk about the night you screamed like a little girl and ran into the other room, making me take the roach outside?
“Ok, that’s different, I-“
“Never mind that. I’m talking about something much more important. I’m talking about,” Cas paused to gesture to himself, then Dean, “us.”
Dean frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, and Cas watched as his soulmate struggled with the point he was trying to get across.
“You think I’m scared of you?”
“No! No, no, no. I know that you’re scared of relationships in general, so I understand, but you don't have to be so terrified of voicing your feelings. I don’t expect you to speak your emotions like some romantic comedy, but when you feel like you need or want to, you can. You don’t have to be so incredibly, well,” Cas paused as he tried to think of the right word for Dean’s reluctance to speak about his sentiment.
“Emotionally constipated?”
The Milton nodded aggressively, marveling at how odd the phrase was, yet it perfectly matched the situation.
Shrugging, Dean looked down at his feet, tapping his fingers on his knees rhythmically. He sighed.
“Ya I know, man. I’m just not used to this. I’ll try and get better at it.”
He looked up, staring at the bookshelf on the other wall with his big green eyes. His face was turning a bit red, which for some reason Cas found slightly…adorable.
“Yes, and one more thing,” Cas continued, “we need to label what we have here.”
Dean blinked and frowned.
“We’re soul mates.”
“Yes, of course, according to the DST. That’s the technical term, but we need to define what we are without the technical terms.”
There was an awkward silence as they both stared at each other, daring the other to speak. No one did for a long time, and silence stretched out.
Surprisingly, Dean was the first to talk.
“Cas, will you be my boyfriend?”
He was taken aback by the very bluntness of the thing, by the words that were hanging in the air staring at him right in the face. The Winchester’s face was calm without a speck of nervousness in it, and was looking at Cas, unblinking and expecting. He was acting as if he had just asked Cas his favorite type of color or some simple question, and raised his eyebrows when the Milton didn't answer right away.
“Well? Do you want me to get down on one knee or something?”
Cas didn't reply, still shocked.
Boyfriend.
It was a strange foreign word, something that Cas had never thought he would have. After all, if you had told Cas a month ago that his soulmate was a man who wore leather jackets and cursed every other sentence, he would've laughed at you and judged you silently. But now, that’s what Dean was wasn’t he? The kisses, flirting, doing things for each other that no one else would really do (aka giving someone a cat when you were severely allergic, or giving a person’s little brother scholarship interviews), was way outside the boundaries of friends.
So why not just accept it?
Cas smiled, feeling giddy for some reason, and said the four tiny words that changed the course of their whole relationship.
“I would love to.”
Dean’s face broke into a huge grin, truly happy. His eyes shone bright, and Cas was struck by how beautiful, how pulchritudinous, he was. His face probably fit the Golden Number, an idea being something that Cas had once toyed around with, thinking that people who truly fit that scale would probably look unnatural and a bit scary. But no, Dean looked anything but. His fair skin was dotted with a splash of oh so beautiful freckles across his chiseled face. His cheekbones were sharp but not too sharp. He had the longest eyelashes, something that Cas was made very much aware of every time he blinked. And his eyes…!
His eyes were green, true, but they were so much more than that.They were the kind of green that pushed its way throughout the piles of gritty snow to remind you that spring was coming. The kind of green that budded on the prisoners of winter, bringing life back to their branches. That churning, passionate green that the ocean turns during a storm. That color of the forest after it rains. The color of the tadpoles making ripples in the pond. That green color that brings hope and life no matter what happened. And looking into those eyes, Cas could see it; what they were and could be. And he knew that Dean could see it too.
Dean broke eye contact after a few moments, and looked down at his hands shyly. Cas could feel himself blushing, and to make sure that his…boyfriend (he was going to have get used to that term) didn't see, turned around and continued the very long process of organizing his books in alphabetical order, pulling out books and shifting them as he muttered to himself about authors and genres.
So after I do it alphabetical order by author, I should split the books into genres as well.
Or should just do it in by genre now and then alphabetical order after to save time?
Should I even do genre?
This is really hard.
His mind buzzing with overload on organizing his hundred of books that were a joy to have but not a joy to maintain, Cas set to work again until 10 minutes later he heard Dean stop turning the magazine pages, probably looking up at him. He couldn't tell, because he had his back turned and was too caught up in his thoughts to turn around.
“What are you even doing?”
Sighing because god this was stressful, Cas gave in and turned around anyway to look at Dean sitting on the bed.
“Organizing my huge collection of books. I should've done this a long time ago.”
“Dude, you were muttering to yourself under your breath like a crazy old man.”
“Well…!” Cas gestured to his whole collection of literature. “Putting these many books in alphabetical order is not easy!”
Dean scoffed, which annoyed Cas even further.
“When I said ‘take a break’, I didn't mean do more work, ya idjit.”
“Idjit?”
Stopping like realizing what he’d just said, Dean smiled a little to himself as he got up and walked over to where Cas was sitting on the floor with practically 50 books spread around him. He sat down next to Cas, scooting a book over to make room, and scrunched his nose as he looked at all the titles around him.
“It’s just something Bobby says a lot.”
Dean stopped and picked up a book that was to the right of him, and Cas leaned over to see it was his old tattered copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. It had been grandma Milton’s copy, and she had given it to Cas when he was 10 after finding out how much he liked to read. The author of the book had signed it on the front page, J.K. Rowling, and the marker she had used was fading on the page and you had to squint to read it. The author and his grandma were both long dead now, but Cas loved and cherished the Harry Potter series.
He watched as the Winchester studied the cover intently, like he had never seen a book before.
“I’ve always wanted to read this series,” he muttered to himself rather than Cas, “but I never got to. Sammy used to worship it when he was younger.”
It wasn't really a big deal, Dean not having read Harry Potter. The series was over 50 years old now, and not many kids read it anymore. People these days didn't really care much about books in general, what with all the new technology coming out every day. Nonetheless, Cas felt a pang of sadness when he heard this, realizing how much of his childhood Dean had truly missed out on. Dean deserved to do what he wanted to, even if it was something small like read a series. He deserved to be read to, to love and be loved.
Cas took the book from Dean’s hands and took a deep breath
“Well, now you’re going to get to.”
The Milton shifted to rest his back against the wall. He gingerly opened to the front page, sitting criss cross when he felt a warm something on his right knee and thigh. Lowering the book from his face, Cas smiled when he saw Dean was laying down on his lap, eyes closed and facing the ceiling.
Maybe Dean didn't need to speak about his emotions, but acting on them, like resting his head on Cas’s lap, was enough.
Clearing his throat, he started reading.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was…”
As Cas continued reading, the light outside faded until all you could see were millions and millions of stars, beautiful and sparkling and free.
February 14th, 5:04:12
Dean made Cas question every promise he had ever made to himself. He made Cas open up when he didn't want to let anyone in. He helped him to breathe when he didn't want to anymore and he showed Cas that the world was so much bigger, so much much better that he had made it out to be.
Dean also made him feel all weird inside, and Cas didn't really know what the feeling was because he had never felt it before. It was like a mixture of giddiness matched with longing and something else that Cas couldn't really place.
But if there was one thing that Cas was sure of, it’s that he had to keep Dean around and never let him go.
It was Valentine’s Day, and Cas hadn't really expected his soulmate to plan much for it. He himself hadn’t planned anything, assuming that maybe they could go out for dinner that night or something. Although they had that talk about it being okay to express emotions a while ago, neither of them were really the type to call each other pet names or express their sentiment for each other all the time. And, they supposed, that was ok. As long as what they had was just there, just was.
So Cas was surprised when Dean told him to wait for him by his window at 5 AM, refusing to tell the Milton why because it was apparently a surprise. It was Tuesday, and Dean knew he didn't have class on Tuesdays, so Cas was still wondering why the mechanic couldn't have picked a later time; Tuesdays were usually days he slept in, and he wasn't especially happy about having to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to get ready. Even if it was to spend time with Dean.
Suddenly, Dean crawled through the window of his room, out of breath as his feet landed on the floor. Dean could just walk in through the front door like a normal person anytime he wanted to, and was told repeatedly by Cas and- when they found out- his family, but Dean said he liked climbing in because it was “fun”.
The 19 year old didn’t really get the logic of it, because the tree branch extended about a foot below his window, and in order to get inside, Dean had to climb the rest of the way in and flip his entire body inside. It looked physically exhausting, and the Winchester’ was always breathing heavy and red all over every time, but he still didn't want to take the easy route and just come in the door. Sometimes, Cas really didn’t understand what was going on in that brain of his, but just decided to roll with it and kept his window a crack open all the time in case Dean just spontaneously decided to hop into his room.
He forgot all about it though, when the mechanic looked up and grinned at him, then kissed him on the cheek. Cas’s heart exploded when he did so; Dean didn't usually do this, show physical affection. It was nice though, he wasn't complaining. Just…different.
Dean looked a bit surprised by his own actions, so Cas decided to save both of them the awkward silence and blushing. He looked down at his watch, his voice teasing.
“Four minutes annndddd twenty seconds, Dean Winchester. I could’ve been sleeping.”
He coaxed a chuckle out of Dean’s mouth, and looked up, suddenly shy.
“So, can you tell me why I had to wake up this early and get ready by 5 on a Tuesday?”
All he got in reply was a “Nope! You ready?”.
Cas nodded and they both walked (down the stairs that time, because Cas told him that he wasn't going to let Dean climb out his window when his foot could easily slip on the branch in the early morning dark) to the Impala, not saying a word.
*******************
The ride to the mystery place was roughly 45 minutes long, and Cas fell asleep within the first 5 minutes, exhausted. He was shook gently awake by Dean’s hand on his shoulder, and got out of the car to get a good look at where the heck they were.
They were on a beach.
Cas had never been to the beach, they lived in the city and his parents had always loathed beaches (“the sand gets everywhere” they said), so Anna and him had never cared much.
But, he thought as he shed his shoes and socks by the Impala and feeling the warm sand on his feet, this was something he had truly missed out on. It was a nice, peaceful setting; the sun hadn't rose yet and the air was cool, the sand felt good as it enloped his feet in its warm embrace. Waves crashed over the frigid winter sand, spreading its lacy foam like the edge of a petticoat. The ocean wind blew in bitter gusts, disheveling up Cas’s messy hair even more so, and the salty air lay thickly on his tongue and filled his nostrils.
It was too cold to go swimming anyway because it was February, and he watched as Dean wordlessly just reached into the backseat of the Impala and grabbed a blanket and a large green bag. They didn't say anything- it didn't seem right to- and Dean, holding the supplies in his right hand, started to walk towards the shore, holding Cas’s wrist with his left and pulling him gently with. Dean looked oddly at peace, his mouth a straight line instead of his usual smile, and with his wide green eyes that looked faded in the light staring calmly ahead at the water. It looked like all those years of tension, that stress, had fallen off his shoulders and he was once in his life, not weighed down by his past.
If Dean’s going to look like this every time we go here, we should go to the beach everyday.
As if reading his mind, Dean chuckled to himself and stopped about 20 yards from the water, putting the green bag on the ground and unraveling the blanket. The Milton bent down and helped him smooth the cloth, laughing when the wind kept on forcing it to fold over. Feeling a wet somethingon his temple as the two soul mates were on all fours trying to smooth out the blanket, Cas realized that Dean had kissed him there suddenly. He turned his head to the side to avert his gaze, but the sudden redness of his face gave him away.
Dean muttered, “Oh forget it. It’s gonna be a bitch anyway.”
Shrugging, Cas sat down on the blue blanket, staring ahead at the water as Dean did the same.
They didn't speak for a few moments, because they didn't have to. There was nothing to say, they just knew. The only sound was the wind, and the waves crashing into the shore every so often. Cas felt at peace, and he forgot himself forgetting about the stress of his work and future; he was here, in the moment, and that was okay.
He realized that their hands were intertwined, which was weird, because he really didn't remember that happening. But hey, it wasn't a bad thing. He felt Dean give his hand a soft squeeze before pulling away, reaching for the green bag to open it.
His curiosity was satisfied when he watched Dean pull out a bottle of wine from the bag, and Cas realized that the bag was one of those portable wine coolers. Dean popped the bottle open with a corkscrew expertly, then after taking a sip, offered the bottle to the 19 year old.
He shook his head, and Dean frowned. Realizing that this probably cost money that the Winchesters couldn't afford to spend, Cas offered his explanation.
“I’m 19 remember? Not legal.”
The Winchester scoffed at him in typical Dean fashion.
“You’ll be fine. It’s just wine. Nothing happens if you drink half a bottle.”
Giving in, Cas took the bottle from his soulmate. He took a tentative sip, gagging a little when it a bitter taste flooded into his mouth. He winced as Dean chuckled beside him at his reaction.
“Aren’t we supposed to be drinking in wine glasses or something?”
Dean shrugged, “Whatever, man. There’s no difference.”
Cas took another sip, getting a used to the taste. It was good, once you got past the bitterness of it all. It was like really strong grape juice. He took a big gulp, acquiring to the taste and enjoying it.
“Hey, calm down, buddy. I don’t want you to turn into an alcoholic.”
Laughing, the Milton wiped his moth with the back of his hand and handed the bottle to Dean as he fell back into the blanket. It wasn’t long enough for his height; when his head hit the blanket right on its edge, his knees and below were on the sand. The sun was about to rise, and realized that Dean had probably told him this early because he wanted to watch the sunrise with Cas.
He felt Dean lay down beside him as well, and they both stared up at the sky in silence.
“Hey, Dean?”
“Hmm?”
“What would you be if you could be anything? Like if you weren't in your current situation right now?”
Dean didn't say anything, thinking for a moment as he turned onto his side to get a better look at his soulmate.
“I would be an automotive engineers. Not a mechanic, but way higher than that. I mean, I would go to college and get degrees and all that shit, and that would be my career.”
Cas nodded, lost in thought.
“Also, I would get paid a lot more to play around with cars,” he added with a laugh.
The Milton hummed in agreement. “I bet you would be a great automotive engineer.”
“I bet I would, wouldn’t I?” Dean replied, and there was something sad in his tone, something longing, and it broke Cas’s heart.
“What about you?”
“I’m already doing what I want to do.”
“Yeah, I know, don’t rub it in,” Cas started to say something in protest when Dean waved it off to show that he was joking, “but why do you want to be a heart surgeon? You’re always freaking out over your studies and stressed.”
“Well, it’s going to be worth it. I’m going to save to people’s lives. I want to save people’s lives.”
“Yeah, Cas,” and Dean sounded and looked fiercely proud of him, “you will.”
They didn't say much after that, watching the sky together. The yellow shining sun started rising from the ground. It filled the sky with mighty colors of red and splashed the clouds with endless rays of pink. It was bright and mesmerizing as it inviting him to stare, deep into the horizon.
Burning through a bottle of cheap wine as they passed it back and forth, Cas fell in love in the silence. He felt the earth rocking beneath him and his mind drifting in and out like the tide. Though his vision wavered, there was one thing the 19 year old was sure of. Dean was there... he was next to him lying on top of that thin, soft blanket and the orange light from the sky poured onto his skin. In that moment, they were together, and he was so beautiful.
I was having intense Twist and Shout feels when I wrote this, but after writing it it helped to ease the pain a little, so I hope that happened with ya'll as well and will maybe be able to go to a beach without crying.