It was New Year's Eve, and Dean was sitting up alone in a hotel room in some no-name town in West Virginia. Sam had fallen asleep hours ago on his bed, exhausted from the case. Dean had tried to wake him up to eat something for dinner, to no avail. He'd just grumbled at him and rolled over.
So now he was sitting in the floor, leaning against his own bed, with various snacks and drinks spread out around him. The TV was on low, beaming in all those happy people standing in New York, braving the cold for the sake of the spirit of the holiday. For a moment, Dean hated them. Their lives were so painfully normal. No monsters, no living out of hotels and cars, no apocalypses or demons. But then he reminded himself that hating them would serve no purpose. Neither would envying them, but he had to allow himself something.
He sighed and took a long drink of his beer. All those happy singing and dancing idiots. If only they knew what was really out there.
It didn't help that he was still a bit in the middle of a personal crisis.
Just a week ago, Dean had found himself standing out in the cold early Christmas morning with Cas. Some part of him had known when he saw the angel smile at the pair of pewter wings he'd given him, but it was confirmed completely after hearing the words I believe in you, too. Dean had spent the rest of the night awake, thinking about the warmth that had filled him. He couldn't help but think that it explained a lot. He wasn't sure what to do about it, though. The next day, he'd acted even more cocky than usual around Sam, irrationally thinking his brother would see through him. Cas had acted more or less the same, perhaps more relaxed. But Dean had been wired with tension.
It wasn't an issue of sexuality. That didn't bother him in the slightest. What bothered him was that he loved anyone at all. He had never had good luck where relationships of any kind were concerned. To him, it seemed like playing with fire to even entertain the idea.
So his solution was to silently criticize the people in New York and drink while his brother slept.
He cursed his luck when he heard the familiar whoosh that signaled the angel's appearance. He was standing at the other end of the room, and he cast one glance at Sam's sleeping form before crossing the room to stand over Dean.
Dean waved a hand over the space beside him, and finally, Cas joined him, looking almost comical sitting cross-legged on the floor. He watched the flickering images on the television.
"What are they doing?" He kept his voice quiet for Sam's sake.
"Every year, there's a big party in Times Square in New York."
"For the new year?"
"Yeah."
"I must say I am surprised to find you here. I was sure you would be taking part in the festivities somewhere."
"We're in East Jesus Nowhere, West Virginia, Cas. There are no festivities in this town. Besides, it isn't worth the trouble."
"You're tired."
"Little bit, yeah. Rough case."
"You should have called me, Dean. I could have helped."
"Nah, you had stuff to do, too." Dean faced forward, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the TV show. He was suddenly quite aware of the very small space between them. Cas was perfectly fine with the silence and closeness, but it just made Dean tense up, a reflex action he'd developed during the last week.
He jumped feeling the hand fall on his shoulder, and turned to find the familiar blue eyes staring at him. Normally a welcome sight, he wanted nothing more than to not be under their gaze at that moment.
"Something is wrong. What is it?"
"Way to get right to the point, Cas." The angel gave no reply. He was never one for talking without purpose. "I'm fine."
"You are not."
Dean prickled a little. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Cas removed his hand, but he shifted almost imperceptibly closer to Dean. They were as close as two people could be without touching.
Dean heard the buzz of a cell phone, and Cas pulled his out of his pocket. It was one of those automated messages about him needing more time on it. Dean would have to get him some. Cas closed the message, and Dean watched the sway of the pewter wings as the angel replaced the phone deep in the pocket of that ridiculous trench coat. Maybe he would just upgrade the poor guy's phone entirely. So long as the new model would still hold that silly charm.
Cas moved closer to Dean. They were shoulder to shoulder. When the angel leaned against him, Dean didn't move away. He didn't want to, no matter what he'd been telling himself the last week. Cas continued to watch the TV with curiosity, Dean occasionally explaining who the different performers and celebrities were.
After a while, Dean realized the tension inside him was gone. He hadn't even noticed it leaving. But instead of being miserable, he was more comfortable than he'd been in years, laughing quietly with Cas at the people on the television, trying not to wake Sam. Despite how horrible the last year had been, it was at least ending on a happy note.
There was confetti flying all around Times Square, everyone gearing up for the ball drop.
"That is how they count down, correct? With the glowing orb?"
Dean laughed, resting his head against the angel's. "Yeah, Cas, with the glowing orb. Watch." He pointed to the corner of the screen, where the ball was beginning its descent. The crowds shouted out the count down as the seconds ticked away, letting loose a chorus of Happy New Year! when the ball reached its destination.
Cas watched the entire process with open wonder and fascination. You could barely see across the Square for all the confetti. The camera began to pan across the crowds, lighting on different people for a few seconds each. Everyone smiling and laughing and cheering. Then the sentimental strains of "Auld Lang Syne" began to play over the people, everyone singing along. Except for the happy couples locked in embraces and kisses. The camera always lingered a little longer on those people, maybe offering a reminder of the good things left in an otherwise dark and gloomy world.
Cas shifted, sitting back on his knees and turning toward Dean, who immediately missed the feeling of someone leaning against him. Cas was watching him, but his eyes were flitting between Dean and the television. Dean glanced to see what kept drawing his attention, but only saw the usual procession of shots of people in the crowds. He locked eyes with the angel.
"What is it?"
The angel answered with a kiss instead of words, a quick and hesitant kiss that Dean was quickly lost in. Cas sat back, the slightest flush on his face. He nodded toward the television.
"I understand it is customary, to kiss the person you love on New Year's. Have I interpreted the custom correctly?"
Dean felt a smile begin on his lips. He took the angel's face in his hands, giving him a much more thorough kiss, causing the angel's breath to catch.
"Yeah, Cas, you got it right."
Additional Notes: The title is taken from a poem by James Watson, which was a variation on Auld Lang Syne. The stanza the title comes from is this one, which I found very touching: "My heart is ravisht with delight,/when thee I look upon;/All grief and sorrow takes the flight,/and speedily is gone;/The bright resemblance of thy face,/so fills this heart of mine;/That force nor fate can me displease,/for old long syne."