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Dean loves Cas. Well, not that he loves, loves him, but the guy didn’t put him in the middle of the Croatoan danger zone, so yeah, that’s pretty fucking much. He looks around carefully, because he has no idea where he is. Would it be too difficult to just send him to Camp Chitaqua already?
Apparently.
Sighing, Dean goes about finding himself a car. But the problem is that he’s standing where some kind of explosion happened a few years ago and the trees are still scattered around the floor and…Wait, is that a cross? Oh.
Cas sent him to his grave. Why? To cheer him up? Hell of a job, buddy! The Winchester shakes his head and walks a few miles before getting to that same gas station where Cas first talked to him. Looks like no one ever came back there, if the broken windows say anything. It gives Dean the chills to walk back in there after so many years.
But if he wants to complete his mission, he has to look for supplies. Fuck, what if the Croats are here too? His heart is pounding a little faster than usual and he has nothing but his knife. He truly doesn’t think he would win the ‘End of the World’s MMA’, especially when he’s alone in the middle of nowhere.
Thanks, Cas, for being so awesome to take him somewhere he can get killed at any seconds. Cas does understand that, if Dean dies, he won’t come back, right? Well, okay, maybe he will, because Cas rescued him from Hell once, why not do it twice?
Oh yeah, Cas fell from Heaven.
Too much crap for Dean to be thinking right now. He has a mission and, if he has to die to complete it…Then he’ll die fighting, like his father always taught him to. He’ll die with a smile on his face, because he’ll be dying for a much bigger cause.
Cas wouldn’t die and that’s everything in Dean’s mind right now. Save Cas; he has to save Cas and go back to his own freaking timeline to corrupt an angel. Not that it went right the first time he tried it – because Dean simply knows that he was the one to show the ‘pleasures of iniquity’ to Cas in this timeline –, but he’s human and he’s weak.
Okay, he’s not weak, because Dean Winchester is a fucking badass who killed Azazel and a whole bunch of other supernatural freaks and…He made his point.
The thing is: Dean likes Cas and he’s tired of hiding it when he knows Cas likes him too. Why deny it? Because he has a stupid macho crisis over being with another guy? That used to be a good reason for him. Until he met Cas.
Everything changed from the moment he laid eyes on the goddamned son of a bitch. He only doesn’t know if it changed for the best or for the worst.
Here, it was for the worst.
Because Cas was a freaking angel. And he rebelled and fell for Dean, never asked anything in return. It’s about damn time Dean repay him for everything he’s done on the past year, even though most of it they were only kind of playing some stupid stare contest game. Dean can’t say he didn’t like the game.
And he’s overthinking things. Smirking at himself – because yes, he is imagining all the things he could do with Cas; some of which could throw him straight back to Hell… –, Dean enters the store, but there’s nothing. The whole place is empty, not even one little can of rock salt is left.
Great, Dean forgot how it was to live during his own private version of Resident Evil. He slams the door shut behind him when he leaves the place and puts a hand on his forehead, protecting his eyes from the sun that shines bright above him, the only light source he has. The place is so damn hot that he can nearly see the heat waves in the air, like in those weird – and poorly made, he has to say – Westside movies.
It isn’t that difficult to find a car. He only has to walk a few more miles north and there a black Mustang is, waiting to be driven. But the difficult thing is to get himself to Camp Chitaqua again. Dean remembers the way, that’s not the problem. The problem is that Dean doesn’t want to go back there. He doesn’t want to see drugged Cas again and how he was killing himself with it, burying all his problems inside sex, women and alcohol.
Cas here acts like Dean used to act when younger, only worse. And he acts like that because Dean fucking taught him to do it. The hunter knows Cas would feel desperate when the angels started dropping out and his powers disappeared. He knows he’d try to help him some way, and the only way Dean knows to ease the pain is sex, alcohol and women.
So no, Dean doesn’t want to go there and see Cas giving some stupid speech about how the orgy is the only way to salvation. That’s the thought that makes him stay almost half an hour parked in the nearby city. He’s not in the infected zone and he just wants to close his eyes and sleep, but the clock is ticking and he only has one day. One day to save Cas.
He starts the car again quickly and stops close to the camp, but not close enough where someone could see him. There are some trees on the perimeter and a few branches on the floor that he uses to cover the car. You never know when you’ll need a vehicle to escape your own little garrison if they find out you’re not the ‘you’ they’re used to. Damn, Dean’s confusing himself a lot today.
After taking a deep breath and repeating over and over that he has to do it, Dean walks towards the camp. Once he’s in, a few people greet him with a short ‘hey’ or a wave and the next breath that leaves him is filled with pure relief.
His original idea of taking the 2014 version of himself back to the past was only so his Cas could talk to him and put some sense inside that stupid head, but fuck him if he’s not more than happy that everyone here thinks he’s the same Dean they know.
Chuck is there, making some notes on his notepad just like the first time Dean came here, but today the toilet paper stock is still fine. Dean nearly laughs with the thought of Chuck getting desperate because people will have to use leaves to clean themselves after some burritos.
But the sound dies in his throat once he sees Cas’s cabin right there. He wonders if he’ll be in the middle of one of his ‘teachings’ and Dean definitely doesn’t want to see that – mainly because he’s not an active participant –, but Cas’s life is more important than being afraid of catching him in the middle of an orgy. Even though Dean knows he’d just grin at him and invite him to ‘join the fun’.
The thought gives Dean the chills. He heads to the small wooden place and stops by the ‘door’, peeking through that strange hippie curtain of counts. Cas is talking to six women, but they still have their clothes on. Time to put his mad expression on his face. “Everybody out but the Guru,” he says in his best get-the-fuck-out-or-I-will-rip-your-guts-out voice.
As predictive, Cas grins at him and takes a few pills from a can. The women look at the ex-angel and he nods. “Salvation can come to you later, ladies; my temple is always open to you.”
They giggle as he winks at them and leave with their heads down, avoiding looking at Dean as much as possible, since he’s actually starting not having to fake his disgusted expression. Fuck all of that is so wrong. Cas stands up and stretches himself, just like the first time. The difference is that now he’s stripping.
“What are you doing?” Dean asks, approaching a few steps barely by instinct before stopping within a close distance.
Cas turns to him, a little confusion set on his eyes before he raises his eyebrows and nods. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t like to take it all off.” The ex-angel shrugs and puts his shirt back on quickly. But not quickly enough to stop Dean from seeing the huge scars on his stomach and some hickeys on his chest.
What the actual fuck? Cas thinks Dean’s here to fuck him? Well, it wouldn’t be a bad idea, but he has to talk to him before the physical starts. “Come on, I think I’ve still got some lube here somewhere.” He opens a few drawers and tosses a condom on the bed as he tries to find the bottle.
Dean can’t do much but staring at him. He would be lying if he said he’s not already half-hard in his pants, but he doesn’t want that now. Especially when it’s going to be just sex to Cas. That’s not what they are. Dean wouldn’t go gay just for anybody. He wouldn’t have sex with a guy because it could be fun. And he most certainly won’t have his first time with Cas when he’s drugged and probably won’t even remember it in the next morning. “Stop that bullshit,” Dean says with the increasing heat of both arousal and anger under his voice.
The blue-eyed man turns back to him and the confusion is back. “What, you prefer to do it in your cabin?” he asks with a small tilt of his head that is so Cas.
With a strong sigh, Dean shakes his head. “Look at me, Cas. Really look at me.”
Cas chuckles for a short moment, but then his eyes widen. “Woah, strange. You…Are not you. Not now you anyway.”
Like bells, the words ring inside Dean’s head. He still remembers when Cas said the same things when he came here a few days ahead. “Yes, exactly. I’m from 2009,” the Winchester explains because he knows Cas would ask.
“Who did this to you? Zachariah?” His expression is just as irritating as the first time, as if Dean was a rat lab Cas decided to study.
The Winchester shakes his head. “You did it, because I asked you to.”
And just like that the scientist curiosity leaves Cas’s expression to give room for the surprise, which is quickly replaced by a laugh. “Yeah, right, because you would somehow know what happens here in 2014 and wanted to see it with your own eyes.” Cas wiggles his fingers and makes a strange ‘ooh’ sounds that has Dean’s nose twitching.
“Can you please shut up for a minute and listen to me?” Dean asks, frowning with concern and disbelief. He can feel his blood running on his veins and he’s starting to wonder how he’ll save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. “Look, a few days from now, I’ll be back here because Zachariah will send me, but you have to pay attention. Cas, you’re in danger, you have to leave now.”
Once again, his only answer is a laugh, louder than the previous one and a lot more broken, the stoned daze settling all over the ex-angel’s body. “Okay, Dean, come on, I’ll ask someone to take you back to your cabin and give you some painkillers.”
He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and pats it lightly, leading him to the doorway, but Dean stops him by holding both of his wrists, just as he did with his own Cas before coming back here, but a lot rougher. Their bodies are inches away and Cas’s eyes are narrowed, a small portion of anger taking place in them. “Listen to me, you gigantic dumbass. I came here to do something and I will do it, do you understand it?”
“What, you saw that now I’m a sex addict and decided to give it a try?” Cas asks between clenched teeth.
Letting go of his wrists, Dean shoves him aside, turning around to face the door as he runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck, Cas, stop talking as if I only came to see you to get laid!”
Dean’s mad. He can feel every single one of his muscles screaming at him to kill someone or at least break something. And he’s going to do it. He’s going to throw that broken lamp, placed by his side, against the other wall, where Cas is sitting against.
But the broken expression and sore eyes he sees when he turns makes it all vanish with a snap, bringing Dean back to the present. Fuck, that’s exactly what happens here. He only seeks Cas for a good fuck and he can see the hurt the black-haired is trying to hide beneath those white pills he’s taking from the drawer beside the bed.
Licking his lips, Dean approaches him slowly. He kneels in front of him and Cas doesn’t try to avoid his eyes. “I came here to save you because I’ll kill you in less than a week,” the blonde says in a low tone.
“I know.” Cas’s words are filled with sorrow. They’re the only thing that makes Dean aware that he’s still listening to him, because, combined with that intense stare, is a smirk that says much more than words ever could.
The hunter’s eyes widen before he sits on his heels, ignoring completely how Cas’s knees are almost touching his chest. Dean tries to make some sense out of his words as his wide-eyed expression gives away, being followed by a frown. “What do you mean you know?”
Cas shrugs, swallowing some more pills before answering. “I heard you talking to Chuck about the Colt and Lucifer, and especially how you’re choosing the people who’ll go with you to the mission. My name popped out and I quickly assumed you wanted to use the useless ex-angel as bait. Nothing more logical.”
Before Dean can even think about stopping himself, he’s raising his hand covering Cas’s mouth with it, leaning against him and pinning him to the wall. The man’s eyes laugh at him, but Dean has never been more serious in his whole life. “Stop saying those things. Stop talking like I didn’t give a fucking crap about you, because I do. He, the son of a bitch taking my place here, may not, but I do. And I’m taking you the Hell outta here because I’m not going to watch you die again. I’ve seen it far too many times and, as long as I can do something, I will.”
He wants to take his hand out of Cas’s mouth and kiss the worries out of him, but he’s fairly sure he won’t be proving his point if he does that. So instead he only lowers his hand and keeps looking at him, eyebrows raised. Cas is surprised. Dean can see it but the small drop of his jaw. He can see the ex-angel never expected him to say those things.
But then that little moment is gone and Cas is shaking his head with a self-deprecating chuckle. “You don’t get it, Dean. You never did and you most probably never will.”
Get? Get what? What is there for Dean to get that he’s not getting right now? Okay, that’s too many ‘gets’. “What do you mean?” the hunter asks.
Cas cups his face with his cold a shaky hands, affected by how many drugs he’s been taking. “You don’t get how I won’t have any reason to be here if you’re not.”
His expression is still blurry with drunken signs, making Dean even more confused. “Cas, what the Hell are you talking about?”
The man’s smile only grows into a grin and he pushes Dean with his hands so they can stand up. Reluctantly, Dean allows him. “Look, we’ve been through a lot together, you and I. Yeah okay, I’m killing myself slowly here and it’s actually kinda fun, but I have nothing left. You’re the only memory I have from my days back in Heaven; back when I was happy. And although you won’t even look at me – who’d say touch me –, I can’t bring myself to care. Perhaps most of the blame is on the drugs, but there’s still something. We started this together and I want us to end this together. And please, don’t tell me you actually think you can kill Sam.”
Dean should be yelling at him by now, that’s what he normally does when things get ugly, that’s basically his second instinct. But how can he yell at Cas when he’s saying he’d rather die than leave without him? Swallowing, Dean gives a step closer to him. “Cas, I’m an idiot here, I know that and the ‘here-me’ also knows it. But I can’t allow him to kill you. Not you.” He knows it’s almost a plead and Dean Winchester doesn’t do girly things such as pleading, but the moment is asking for it, because he won’t let Cas die!
“I appreciate your concern, Dean, but the ‘here-you’,” he makes quoting signs with his fingers. “Doesn’t like me as much as you do. And he has the right to hate me. Hell, I can’t even help him anymore. I’m useless, a fucking piece of junk. So thank you very much, but you can call your version of me and tell him to strap on his wings and get you back to your page on the calendar.”
Okay, now he did it. Now Castiel really pissed the Hell out of Dean. “I’ll give you two options,” the Hunter says, his voice as menacing as he can manage between the spasms of desperation running through his spine. “Either you come with me, or you at least promise me you’ll protect yourself. Don’t go to that mission, Cas. He’ll ask you if you’ll go, just say no.”
Cas’s head is tilted again, a small spark of something Dean hasn’t ever seen on this man’s face, something he can’t even name. He’s seen it sometimes on his own Cas’s eyes, but not on this one. It’s the last thing he’s expecting to see, and Dean just wants to dive in it.
“You’re saying you don’t want me to go because…You don’t want me to die?”
The surprise is like a punch to Dean’s guts. Fuck, that’s what he’s been saying ever since he arrived! He can’t stay to make sure Cas won’t go, but he simply had to try and talk to him. He had to warn him – even though he already knew it – and beg for him not to go. Nodding, Dean takes one more step towards him. The night’s already falling and he doesn’t have much time anymore.
His next movement is a little surprising, but he doesn’t have other choice. Dean reaches out with his hand and runs a hand through Cas’s hair constantly. “Please, Cas. Don’t do this to yourself. Stay, try to be happy. I know I’ll still go, but…Please. I can’t do more than talking you into not going and I know how stubborn you are, always have been, but Cas, I’m begging you here. Don’t let me kill you.”
If Cas’s eyes were surprised before, Dean doesn’t even know how to describe them now. He’s trying to make some sense out of the Winchester’s words, as if they a foreign language he has never heard before.
And you know what? Dean’s not made of iron. He’s a fucking human, for God’s sake, and not a very righteous one, despite what people and prophesies may say. True, he doesn’t want to do it here, where they can be interrupted, but Dean’s fucking tired of hiding everything he feels for that man. And if someone will judge him for it, then so be it.
Dean lowers his hand from Cas’s hair slowly, allowing it to caress his cheek along the way. Fuck, it’s a damn good feeling that takes him. A small shiver runs through his spine. Cas’s eyes are still on his own, as if asking for permission. As soon as Dean’s hand is on the ex-angel’s chin, they lean in together.
The kiss is slow at first, both of them only wanting to get to know the new territory. Dean didn’t have a clue that this Cas would be so gentle with him. Actually, he thought he would throw him on the bed, or even against the wall, and just take whatever it was that he wanted.
But no. Dean doesn’t know if it’s because it’s him, but Cas is as kind of tender as he could ever possible be. It’s amazing, the way they just move against each other, and Dean almost doesn’t notice when he moves his free hand to the ex-angel’s hips, pulling him closer. Cas approaches willingly, both of his hands cupping Dean’s cheeks again and the hunter feels, for the first time after God knows how many years, that he’s complete.
Fuck, Cas is everything Dean needed and he took so long to realize that. He should be punched for making him wait. And even worse, Dean waited for a little more than a year, but this Cas, this man kissing him so desperately softly, waited for six years. “Tell me I touched you. God, please, tell me I didn’t make you wait that long,” he whispers against Cas’s mouth.
Cas takes a moment to answer, worried about getting as much of Dean as he can. “You did, in 2010 for the first time,” he says between unsteady breaths. “But we haven’t kissed like this,” the blue-eyed increases the sweetness of his movement, fingertips barely even touching Dean’s face. “In two years.”
God fucking dammit. Two years? The bastard kept him waiting for two years? “I’m such a fucking idiot.” Dean shakes his head and takes Cas in his arms, making him cross his legs around his waist. He doesn’t even get any resistance and that is everything he could ask for. But there’s still a voice inside his head, telling him he shouldn’t do it. Not here, not now.
Because he just said he wasn’t there to get laid and that is exactly what’s happening right now. They’re even already lying on the bed, Cas beneath him, fingers digging inside his hair to pull him down for more sweet kisses that slowly becomes more eager. “We don’t have to do it,” Dean says and he should get a fucking medal for that, especially because he’s completely hard and wanting and desiring and fuck. Too long.
But Cas continues to move his hips in time with Dean’s in a movement Dean didn’t even notice was there until now. And holy shit, that’s good. “I want to,” Cas’s voice says and it’s his voice again, without the drug daze, without the alcohol, just Cas.
Well, what more of an answer to his problems does Dean need? He manages to get out of his shirt and Cas is there instantaneously, kissing his chest. Dean takes his shirt off as well, not getting much help, since Cas is busy biting his shoulder. Incredibly, Dean has no complaints about it.
He does have complaints, though, on the hickeys the shirt had been hiding. Without even noticing, Dean growls and goes about giving Cas his own marks. The man’s body twitches underneath his own when Dean sucks for the first time and, being the son of a bitch he is, he sucks again and again on the same spot, even after he has already marked him.
You see, the thing about Dean is that he’s possessive as Hell. He wants everybody to see Cas is and always will be his, no one else’s. It’s been this way ever since they first laid eyes on each other and it will be this way until the way one or both of them dies.
Cas is making the most wonderful sounds, driving Dean even crazier than he already is. “Fuck, so perfect,” he hears himself saying against the ex-angel’s skin. “You’re so perfect and cute, what took me so long?”
Okay, he’s babbling, sue him! Cas chuckles with the few puffs of air he’s still able to get and Dean decides he doesn’t like that he can still breathe. The hunter scratches the ex-angel’s chest all the way to his pants and takes them out as fast as his hands will go. Only then he realizes that his own are already somewhere on the wooden floor. Wow, Cas is good.
Ignoring that minor distraction, Dean finds the blue-eyed man’s mouth with his own once more, licking his lips to ask for entrance. He doesn’t have much time with the tease, though, because Cas opens his mouth as soon as the feeling of Dean’s tongue reaches his skin.
This kiss is a little different than the previous ones. It’s still sweet and tender, but both of their arousals are screaming between the hot curls of their tongues. They grind against each other like horny teenagers, and although this should be wrong, none of them can bring themselves to care.
Still, Dean doesn’t want to come because he is horny. No, if he’s really getting laid with Cas, he wants to do it right, no matter if he doesn’t care about it. The Winchester reaches for the lube as the black-haired takes his boxers off, doing the same to Dean’s before the hunter even has time to protest. Not that he would.
He squeezes the bottle and the fluid falls on his fingers. This should be strange as Hell, because he’s going to fuck a guy. He should be stopping right now and going to make his own Love Guru section on his cabin. This should be wrong.
But then again, that’s Cas. How can it be wrong when it’s about Dean and Cas?
Not knowing exactly how to do it, Dean goes by instinct. He wonders how he’d like Cas to do it to him and slowly starts to tease the man’s whole, getting surprised with how easily his fingers slides inside, one after the other. How the Hell…? He looks at Cas and sees the ex-angel shrugging. Right, he had company earlier.
It’s a little difficult not to think that some other guy owned Cas like Dean’s owning him at this very moment. I mean, come on, another guy touched Cas and this is so fucking wrong. Things get easier, though, when he hits a different spot and Cas literally screams as he pushes down onto Dean’s fingers, trying to make him go deeper.
Purposefully, the hunter avoids as much as possible to touch the man’s prostate, because that’s what he gets for giving himself to other men – he was kind of used with the idea of women, but men is something completely new – that are not Dean, even though Dean’s a dick.
“Fuck, Dean, stop that tease already and get your fucking cock inside me,” Cas commands him and Dean can’t do much more than obeying.
He gets some more lube and gives a few strokes to his cock before putting the condom on and settling himself between Cas’s legs. “Just tell me to stop if you need it, okay?”
Cas growls at him and grinds down, trying to get Dean to penetrate him already. “Shut up and do your fucking job,” he says with a roll of his eyes and pulls Dean down for another kiss, slow and rough.
That’s pretty much what takes it for Dean to answer the requests. His groan gets swallowed by Cas’s mouth, but the feeling is still there, consuming him as he slides in with that awkward feeling between ‘fuck yes’ and ‘not enough, need more’.
Dean stops once he’s all in, because this is so fucking much better than anything he’s ever experienced in his life. Cas breaks the kiss to take in a deep breath and Dean goes about doing the same. Then, a lot faster than Dean thought to be possible, Cas is ready to go again. The ex-angel waits, though, until Dean thinks he can move.
And then he moves.
Next thing he knows Cas’s mouth is on his again to stop him from giving them away, because Dean is moaning as loudly as a fucking slut. And the best part is that he doesn’t give a shit about it. Let them know. Let everybody on the camp know that Cas is with him now; right now.
“Holy fuck, Dean,” Cas says with his husky voice now even deeper. “You’re way too loud.”
“Your fault,” Dean replies with a smirk before he lowers his head to suck another hickey on Cas’s neck.
Just like that, Cas nearly collapses under him. It takes him a while, but Dean understands that he’s changed his neck when he leaned down and this new position makes him hit Cas’s prostate with every hard thrust. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Cas tries to bite his lips, but it’s no use. He keeps moaning and groaning and growling and Hell, Dean is so not going to survive this. “Fuck, yes, Dean, yes, right there, yeah…”
It would be easy for Dean to move his mouth a little upwards and swallow Cas’s sounds, but fuck if he’s going to give up on that. Instead, he goes about making them louder by scratching the ex-angel’s skin with his teeth and licking at the sore spot. Both of his hands are holding so hard at Cas’s hips that he knows he’ll leave bruises. And he’s so goddamn happy about it that he should be thrown back to Hell just for that feeling.
Cas is contorting himself under Dean, but it’s still not enough. Dean still wants more. He wants everything he can get and he’ll take it because he can. Trying to get Cas’s attention, Dean places wet kisses along his jaw line and throat. When he thinks he’s distracted enough, the green-eyed hunter ghosts his fingers in between them until he reaches Cas’s cock and strokes at it mercilessly.
Screams of pleasure are the only thing he can hear as Cas digs his nails on Dean’s back, an action that will sure as Hell leave marks. It’s scary as fuck, but Dean actually wants to carry his scratches, hickeys, bites, anything Cas will be willing to give him.
As if reading Dean’s mind, Cas lowers his head to his neck and licks slowly at it with the very tip of his tongue. Really, how can he be so consumed by pleasure and still so focused that he can do anything but moving against Dean?
At the first bite, Dean shivers and stops all he’s doing. It hurts and he’s almost sure it’s bleeding, but then Cas starts sucking at it and everything else goes blind. Dean’s moving again, but he’s not even aware of it, he can only feel the painful orgasm making his stomach tighten. He tries to hold back as much as possible, the hardest task he’s ever had to complete, at least until Cas comes.
Dean strokes him harder, brushing his thumb constantly against the head of his cock, and thrusts even faster – if that’s possible –, hitting his sweet spot so often that it rips small gasps and cries out of Cas’s throat. In no time he’s coming on Dean’s fingers and the shiver that runs through his body, gets to Dean’s.
If he needed another motivation to come, that is it. He slides in once, twice, and a third time and he’s done. His body collapses on top of Cas’s as they go through the aftershocks together, Cas’s hand on his hair moving ever so slightly. “Best. Sex. Ever,” Dean says with small pauses to breathe and Cas smiles at him. It’s still a broken smile, but it’s getting better. Maybe someday he’ll smile like his Cas again.
With a shiver, Dean slides out of him and tosses the condom aside, falling to the other side of the bed. “When am I taking you back?” Cas asks when he turns on his stomach and looks at Dean under his lashes. The Winchester throws the mattress over him and places a kiss to his forehead before standing up and putting his clothes back on.
“I’m not sure, we didn’t talk about that,” Dean answers with a shrug as he slides his arms into his leather jacket.
When he looks back at Cas, he’s looking at him as well, but his eyes are almost closing with the lazy after-sex daze. “Stay with me until then.”
Dean hears the hesitation under the request that makes him want to punch himself again. For only a second, he wonders what he could be doing to his own Cas. He sure as Hell hopes for his sake that he hasn’t hurt his angel. Then he snaps back to the present – future, whatever – and sees Cas’s worried expression, as if asking with his eyes if he screwed up everything.
God, that look makes a lump form on his throat. He walks to the bed and kneels on it, leaning down to kiss Cas softly once again before lying down next to him. As soon as he’s comfortable, he throws an arm around Cas’s waist and strokes absently at his sides. They stay like that, just staring at each other and kissing here and there, for a long time.
“I don’t know what will happen when you go back,” Cas whispers and the worry Dean hears underneath it isn’t because he’s afraid to die, but because he’s afraid to disappoint Dean. And the thing is that, if he goes into the building, he will disappoint this Dean, and if he doesn’t, he’ll disappoint his own Dean.
Reaching to run a hand through Cas’s hair again, Dean thinks for a minute before answering. “You’re talking to me back in 2009. I asked you to try and put some sense into my stubborn dumbass head.” He smiles and Cas joins him lightly. Dean gets serious after that. “But if you can’t do it, I want you to run. I don’t know what he will and won’t do to get you to that building and I don’t want to take the risk. You run tomorrow night and you don’t come back. Find somewhere safe and keep away from the Croats. Just come back when you’re sure he won’t be here.”
Cas looks like he wants to protest, but he only swallows and licks his lips. “If I do that…What will happen then?”
That question makes Dean feel like he wants to cry. It’s the same question his Cas asked him after he came here. The hunter sighs. “You’ll be safe, and that’s all that matters.”
Again, Dean thinks Cas will protest, and again he does nothing. The ex-angel turns to his side and curls himself around Dean, one leg between both of Dean’s and his arms around his torso. The Winchester caresses his back lightly. So much desperation…So many doubts. Cas sets his head under Dean’s and noses at his neck kindly.
Just like that, Dean understands what he saw on Cas’s eyes earlier, that little spark of something he couldn’t name. The realization hits him painfully and he has to contain a wince, because that spark was directed especially to him. It was something this Cas had been wanting to feel for Dean for a long time, but his version of Dean wouldn’t allow him to feel it.
He closes his eyes and places a kiss to his hair, listening to his even breath. When he opens them again, he’s back in 2009, still curled around Cas the same way, but this time it’s his own Cas. Dean draws him closer and Cas snuggles against him, getting comfortable.
Sincerely, he’s happy he got to see that Cas one last time, even if only to warn him about something he already knew. But he hopes he never has to see that spark on his Cas’s eyes, because, even though it was something good, on that Cas’s eyes, it was broken, sad, and completely hurt, as if a whole world of feelings buried for a lifetime had just been created.
It was hope.