Dean Winchester was terrified.

And that was putting it mildly. While Cas was walking along next to him, positively glowing with excitement, Dean was worryingly close to pissing his pants. Not that he had any intention of cluing Cas in to his embarrassing nerves, of course. Cas's eagerness was infectious enough for Dean to be willing to do whatever his friend wanted, traitorous bladder be damned.

Dean just wished that this particular "whatever" didn't have to be flying, of all things. Why couldn't he have gotten lucky and found a best friend who enjoyed normal, not suicidal sports? Still, he'd promised Cas that he was up for this, and Dean refused to let him down.

Although, looking back, it might have been a lapse of judgement on Dean's part to agree to this in the first place. Granted, it was his fault for being so damn overprotective after that last Quidditch match.

Sure, he'd accepted that Cas was gonna keep playing, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He made his disdain for the game, as well as flying in general, even more clear in the days after the match, and it was clearly wearing on Cas's patience. But Dean just couldn't stop. Despite a blessedly quick recovery, Cas's injury had shaken Dean even more than he would have expected, and he had become more paranoid about Quidditch than ever.

It had taken Cas just under a week to reach the end of his rope. He and Dean were sitting in their usual spot on the grass down by the lake, Dean laying on his back while Cas tried and failed to study. Cas's failure was, predictably, due to Dean's unwelcome rambling. Cas interrupted him in the middle of a familiar schpeel on the low-injury rates of ping pong by testily saying, "Look, Dean, I'm sick of coming up with ways to convince you that I'm perfectly safe when I fly. Besides, all I've got left is to actually take you flying with me, and clearly you won't go for that, so I don't really know what you expect to get from all this lecturing."

Dean had raised his head from the nest his hands made and gaped like a fish throughtout Cas's unexpected outburst. It was so unlike Cas to snap that way, but Dean supposed he'd been asking for it. He dropped his head back down, breaking eye contact as his face flushed with shame. He knew he shouldn't have pushed Cas so much, but how was he supposed to make up for it now?

That was when he had his not-so-brilliant idea.

"I'd be up for that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Cas turn towards him at an unnaturally high speed, shock evident in every movement. "You're kidding?"

Dean steeled himself for what he was about to agree to. He knew he'd probably live to regret the decision, but anything seemed better than Cas being angry with him.

"Nope. I mean, maybe you're right. I'll never know if I don't try, I guess..."

All uncertainty was wiped from Dean's mind, along with all coherent thought, when Cas tackled him in an unexpected but very welcome hug. Dean hesitated for only a second before wrapping his arms around him in return. At that moment, Dean decided he had just made the best decision of his life.

Now he wasn't so sure.

It was the next day now, a Sunday, and the Quidditch training pitch was completely unoccupied. They walked out into the center of the field, Cas holding one broom and Dean holding another (which Cas had borrowed from the broom shed). Dean noticed his hands were shaking slightly, and he focused on calming himself down. However, Cas saw right through him, of course.

"Dean," he said gently, some of his previous enthusiasm waning. "You don't have to do this, you know."

Forcing an upbeat smile, Dean replied, "I want to."

Cas still looked unsure, but he didn't argue. "Okay... well, first you need to mount your broom."

Dean obeyed immediately, feeling his nerves ratchet up a notch as he clambered on. Cas copied him and then proceeded to explain the technicalities of taking off, Dean doing his best to pay attention to every detail and finding that the harder he tried, the less got through to him.

"Ready?" Cas finally asked.

"Uh huh," Dean replied, an unconvincing smile plastered on his face. Cas looked concerned, but took off anyway, only moving a few feet off the ground as he waited for Dean.

It turned out waiting wasn't necessary. Dean might have been a tad overeager and jumpy, because he managed to highly overestimate how much momentum he needed to get off the ground. He let out a decidedly unmanly yelp as he shot over fifteen feet in the air, clutching desperately at the broom handle and resisting the overwhelming urge to shut his eyes and pretend he was back on the ground. Thankfully, Cas came to the rescue in record time, flying up to Dean's level, coming to a stop alongside him, and putting a grounding hand on his shoulder. Dean appreciated the gesture, but he didn't meet Cas's eyes since he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere but straight in front of him.

"It's okay, Dean," Cas said in a soothing voice. "Just point the handle down a bit and you'll be back on the ground in no time."

Dean nodded imperceptibly, and carefully did as he was told. He could have cried from sheer relief when he was back on the ground, hurriedly jumping off his broom.

Cas landed next to him a second later, wearing a guilty expression. "I'm so sorry, Dean, I never should have suggested this."

Cas pointedly avoided meeting Dean's eyes as he spoke, and Dean couldn't ignore the resulting pang in his chest. "No need to be sorry, Cas, I'll give it another go."

Cas's eyes finally snapped to his own, and Dean was relieved despite the disbelief written all over Cas's face. "Don't be ridiculous, Dean, I won't make you do something that scares you so much."

"Except you're not making me do anything, and I want to try again." Dean was determined to prove that he could do this. He had never been one to admit defeat, and he didn't plan on starting now. Mounting his broom once more, Dean prepared to ascend but was stopped by Cas's hand on his forearm.

"If you insist on doing this... could we at least share a broom? Then I can really show you how to fly one, and you'll be a lot safer that way."

Cas. On a broom. With Dean. Why did those three things combined make Dean's heartbeat speed up to such epic proportions?

Naturally, Dean nodded his agreement without a second thought, and moved back on the broom to give Cas room in front of him. At first, Cas seemed to be caught off guard by Dean's fast acceptance, probably expecting a refusal or, at the very least, a heated debate. But he recovered quickly, and he climbed up in front of Dean.

It was only then that Dean questioned the intelligence of this plan. Something about having Cas this close to him, only inches separating them, was wiping all logical thought from his mind, and he stayed totally still as Cas got comfortable.

"You, um... You might want to put your arms around my waist," Cas finally said.

"'Kay," Dean mumbled like a true master of the English language. He hesitantly complied, winding his hands around Cas until they were settled unsteadily on his hips. Cas huffed impatiently and tugged on Dean's hands so that they came around to meet over Cas's chest, Dean being pulled almost flush against Cas's back in the process. Dean's face began to burn for reasons that he preferred not to consider, and he did his best to steady his heartbeat so that Cas wouldn't be concerned by the pounding against his back.

Cas's neck grew suspiciously red, and Dean could've sworn he felt Cas's own heartbeat speeding up under his hands, but just as Dean began to contemplate this, he was distracted by Cas saying, "Ready?" in a calm voice that sounded almost forced. Nevertheless, Dean mumbled an unintelligible "mmph" against Cas's neck and the other boy lifted them off the ground with ease.

Dean unconsciously clutched at Cas's shirt, definitely wrinkling it, as they made their way higher and higher, albeit at a slow pace that was surely due to Cas's efforts to make him feel more secure. Dean appreciated the attempt, even though the only thing that was truly keeping him calm this high off the ground was Cas pressed against him. But, once again, Dean decided to briefly acknowledge those thoughts and then bury them under ten tons of cement before he could properly analyze their meaning.

Dean was caught off guard by how much more comfortable he was up here when he had Cas with him. In fact, as Cas started to fly them in wide, lazy circles, he felt like he could even fly around himself as long as Cas helped. He said as much, and Cas brought them back to the ground before climbing off and back on behind Dean. Dean expertly ignored the annoying fluttering in his chest as Cas wrapped his own arms around Dean's chest, and he took off far more carefully than the last time, Cas's touch keeping him relatively steady.

Unfortunately, that could only last so long. After they were just under ten feet off the ground, Dean grew over-confident and made the mistake of looking down. The wide expanse of too-far-away ground sprawling out beneath him was much more terrifying than he had anticipated, especially now that Cas was no longer blocking the view. Dean froze as he stared at the ground, and he faltered. Then the falter became a twitch, and the twitch became full on shaking that even Cas's calming touch couldn't reason out of him, and before he knew what was happening or what he had done, the two boys were tumbling to the ground.

Thankfully, Dean landed at an angle that prevented any broken bones. In fact, the fall hurt a surprisingly small amount. But Dean's relief was short-lived as he realized that Cas had broken his fall and was currently pinned beneath him.

Gasping, Dean scrambled off of Cas before frantically grabbing his face in his hands. "Cas? Oh my God, Cas, are you okay? Shit, did I hurt your arm again, can you feel everything? I'm so sorry, I–"

"Dean," Cas interrupted with a fond smile. He reached up and put his hand over Dean's on his cheek. "I'm fine, just got the breath knocked out of me a bit."

Dean took in the words and willed himself to stop panicking. As his breathing evened out, he realized the position they were in, him leaning over Cas and essentially cradling his face, and he pulled back with yet another deep blush burning his cheeks and ears.

"However," Cas continued, sitting up and wincing only slightly before starting to stand up, Dean rushing to support him. "You might want to give flying a break for an indefinite period of time." Dean steadied Cas as they stood up, still protectively hovering near him as he analyzed Cas's expression, determining from the smirk beginning at the corner of his lips that Cas wasn't angry with him.

"Yeah, that's probably all for the best," Dean said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

Cas's smirk grew into a full-blown smile as he grabbed both of their brooms, handing one to Dean and motioning for him to follow.

As they walked off the pitch, Dean said, "You proved your point, by the way."

"Hm?"

"Well, considering I probably would've died if I'd tried that by myself, I think you've more than proved your flying skills."

Cas glowed at the compliment, before taking on a slightly teasing, and maybe hopeful, tone and saying, "So you'll let me play without all the lecturing?"

Dean stared at the ground as they walked, suddenly very interested by his shoes. "Yeah," he grumbled.

Cas, always the perceptive one, could clearly see Dean's genuineness through the gruff exterior, and he smiled even wider as he reached out for Dean's hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. He said, "Thank you, Dean," and then loosened his hand as if to let go, but Dean surprised himself by tightening his own hold. Cas looked at him bemusedly before relaxing into the grip and moving closer to Dean so that their hands swung comfortably between them as they walked.

Dean caught himself starting to smile at this new development, and this time he didn't bother trying to smother the warm feeling bubbling up in his chest.

Maybe the inevitable bruising they would both have in the morning would be worth it after all.