Written for MCL Rarepair Week on Tumblr
Castiel runs a hand through the back of his hair, an anxious tic of his, while turning his face away from Lysander. It's been roughly sixteen hours since Lysander asked him those three dreaded words. "What are we?"
It's a hard question to answer. Some of it, of course, is obvious. They're best friends, bandmates, and classmates, but everything else is hard to put a label on. They're not together together, but they're certainly getting up to more than most best friends do.
For so long they've acted like nothing has really changed as long as they don't talk about it. But whether they mention it or not, drunken kisses mean something. The sober ones, all the more so. But the longer the leave these things unspoken, the longer the tension builds. There was only so long they could leave it unaddressed, and the longer they leave it, the harder it is to break the silence.
"I hate pressing you, but I need an answer." Lysander asks, almost pleads. He needs Castiel to say something, anything. Even if it's hard to hear, he still needs to know. The uncertainty is eating away at him, devouring his mind.
Castiel can't speak. He turns away and makes for the kitchen. He can't even look at Lysander. It's hard to look someone in the eye and be honest when you don't have a clue what you want to say.
"Castiel." Lysander is pleading this time. His tone begs for a response.
"What do you want me to say," Castiel slams a hand on the kitchen countertop in desperation. "Stop asking questions I don't have answers to."
Lysander sighs deeply and moves towards the counter. He looks down and sees Castiel's hand is bright red. He picks up a wet tea towel from beside the sink and throws it towards Castiel. "Just tell me how you feel."
Castiel leans back against the counter and wraps his hand in the towel. The dampness cools his throbbing fist. He pauses, carefully considering his reply, but still the words come slowly. "I feel..." He trails off. "I like this, us..." he stops again.
Relieved, Lysander finishes for him with a smirk. "Whatever us means."
"Yeah." Castiel snorts, but he's clearly in a better mood. He throws the towel behind him and wipes his hand clean on his jeans. "Look, I'm bad with words. Really bad. I don't know what we are, but there is a we, is that enough ?" He looks at Lysander with slight apology in his eyes.
Lysander takes Castiel's hand and grips it tightly. "It's plenty. I only ever wanted to know how you feel about me. I don't want to be a once off."
Castiel shakes his head wildly and squeezes Lysander's hand. "Fuck no Lys, I'd never use you." He's been there before and it wasn't pretty. He waits a moment, breathing in the calm, before he moves on to another subject. "Do you want to hear something super corny ?"
Lysander nods, eager to hear.
"Normally when I drive, I change the dial whenever some dumb bubblegum pop comes on," Castiel bites his lip, but decides to continue anyway, "but I don't anymore because being with you makes me understand cheesy love songs."
Lysander laughs, so much so that he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. The statement tells him everything he asked for and more, and he's never been more flattered. Before Castiel can regret saying anything, Lysander replies. "Castiel, that's the sweetest, most sincere thing you ever said."
Castiel shrugs, only slightly embarrassed. "It's not a big deal."
"Oh and Castiel," Lysander begins, a glint in his eye, "Being with you makes me want to write those cheesy love songs."