Dean sat in what he now thought of as the sex torture dungeon of their hideout, staring at his computer screen. The glowing light from his laptop was the only source of illumination in the room, since the gradual setting of the sun had escaped his notice until he was sitting in mostly darkness. He had had to move like five different kinds of animal skulls and jars of chalk (they went through some chalk, the Winchesters) just so he could put his damn laptop down on a flat surface. Now the table was also littered with several empty beer bottles, and he had just opened another while deciding whether to watch some Hentai porn or go back to his old standard of busty Asian beauties. Hentai had been letting him down of late, too much porn with monsters in it. Nobody needed to see that.
Of course, he had started out with the best of intentions; he was going to do some fucking research on how to find the next ingredient they needed for the Leviathan killing weapon. But that had led to Dick searching which had led to angst about Ghost!Bobby which had led to beer and distracting porn.
He put up his good old incognito window and went to the flashing, comforting familiarity of busty asian beauties dot com. A becoming young Korean woman winked and cavorted at him from the sidebar, and he was about to click to see more when he saw that her name was Cinnamon Tran. Tran. Like Kevin Tran, AP student, that kind of ok teenager who was probably being interrogated by angels or some shit, while he was sitting here at home, literally about to jack off. He groaned in frustration and slammed his computer screen shut.
"Some humans genetically find the taste of Brussels sprouts to be similar to soap." A deep, well meaning voice surprised Dean, and he spun to find a scruffy angel in scrubs and a trenchcoat sitting on a table behind him. "I wonder if that will turn out to be an evolutionary advantage or disadvantage." Cas stared at Dean with all the earnestness that, a few years before, he had used to describe his plan of finding God. It was off putting.
"Who the fuck cares about Brussels sprouts Cas?" Dean asked, annoyed. The Cas sitting in front of him was nothing like the Angel of several years ago who'd pulled a knife out of his own fucking chest, and then just tilted his head ever so slightly to the side in response. Dean felt like if he'd tried to stab this Cas he'd start crying and talk about how butterflies never shanked each other.
"I got it wrong, when I brought you back." Cas said, staring at Dean with eyes that expressed a sudden deep sadness. "Before you went to hell you used to be able to eat Brussels sprouts, but now they'll taste like soap to you. I'm sorry."
Dean couldn't help but give a sad little laugh at that.
"If that's all you fucked up dude, I forgive you ok? I don't think I've eaten a Brussels sprout in my life"
"But of course I've done much worse to you now Dean." Cas said, and he got that worried expression that made Dean think he was about to zap himself off someplace to meditate over his wrongs again.
"Save it." Dean snapped, turning back to his computer and re-opening it. "Apologize to all those friggin' interns you killed back when you were God. They can't eat any Brussels sprouts anymore either."
"Dean." Cas was in front of him now, ignoring any rules of personal space that Dean might have taught him in the past. Dean, who had been about to look at his computer, found that it had been turned off and put away, presumably by some angel mojo. Well fuck. "I want you to know that I never put too much faith in you." Cas said.
"Well, that's probably the best decision you've ever made." Dean muttered, looking at Cas's stained white scrubs. "Neither do I."
"No, I, I put that wrong." Castiel was like a child, fumbling for the correct words to describe his thought, "I put a an immense amount of faith in you Dean. And I want you to know that it was not misplaced."
Dean leaned back again in his chair, shaking his head with another sad, rasping little laugh.
"Look at you Cas. You're bonkers. You used to be an angel of the Lord and now you're…" His voice cracked, thinking of his brother wearing those same scrubs. "You're just messed up. That's all on me." Dean sighed. "You broke ranks and heaven fell apart because of me."
Castiel tilted his head, and it was such a familiar gesture at this point that Dean found it somewhat comforting.
"Dean, I've been thinking about the way that I feel about you." Castiel said thoughtfully. "And bees. But also you."
"What?" Dean asked.
"And I'm…" Castiel's eyes narrowed, and in a blink he was even closer to Dean than before, surprising Dean into leaning a bit back. He flinched slightly when Cas put a hand to the side of his face, running his thumb along Dean's stubbly jawline, examining every detail of him. "I'm not sure…" Castiel continued but then trailed off. Maintaining his expression of solid concentration, Castiel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean's.
Dean remained perfectly still for the duration of the kiss, hands still in the vaguely raised self defensive position they had been when Cas had zapped himself so close, his eyes open, his posture rigid. Cas leaned back again, facial expression continuing to register mostly confusion.
"Um." Dean said, still apparently unable to move. "What?"
"I care about you Dean." Castiel said, thoughtfully. "And Meg suggested that it might be an interest of a sexual nature."
"UM. WHAT." Dean repeated.
"She was there when I woke up Dean." Castiel said. "She helped me."
"She helped… in a SEXUAL NATURE!?" Dean had lost track of what was happening a while ago, but for some reason being angry at Meg was what came easiest to him at this particular moment.
"No Dean." Castiel said, as though the suggestion was absurd. He paused though, thinking. "She did try to kiss me after I woke up." Castiel said, matter of factly, "But at that point I was still somewhat disoriented and I found it distressing."
"SHE'LL FIND ME DISTRESSING." Dean growled.
"You will not hurt Meg, Dean." Castiel said, voice achieving some of the command it used to have.
Dean was sitting stiffly and rigidly in his chair, facing Castiel directly. He could still feel the imprint of Cas's lips on his. Castiel looked very stern and serious, and Dean forced himself to relax somewhat. He closed his eyes. Took a breath.
"Cas, you're going to have to walk me through this one buddy." He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to use as close to gentle a tone as he could achieve in his current anxiety-ridden state.
Castiel reached out to touch the side of Dean's face again and Dean rolled his chair backwards in a scurry to get out of range.
"Whoa whoa whoa," he said, "Cool your jets man, like I said, walk me through this."
Castiel removed his hand quickly and looked down, embarrassed.
"My interest in you is… unusual, in its intensity. My… my wife, when I was Emmanuel, she had a similar intense interest in me."
"She…" Dean had actually forgotten that Emmanuel had a wife. He had never called her back about the whole "I hired your husband for an evening and then he never came home" thing. Shit. "You and she…"
"We consummated our marriage." Castiel said.
"Uh…" Dean paused. So it had come to this. For the second time in his life he was discussing the sex life of an angel of the lord. "But um, I'm still kinda foggy on why that meant you had to…" He lowered his voice the way men do when they're about to say something distasteful, like the word 'vagina' or something,
"kiss me."
"I love you Dean." Castiel said, and Dean's head metaphorically caught on fire. "Until this point, however, I had not considered that I might desire that love to be expressed physically."
Dean stared at the floor desperately, trying to figure out a way to escape this conversation. Every nerve in his body was humming with embarrassed energy.
"Cas, no." Dean rubbed his head. "Just no. I'm not… Are you fucking KIDDING ME!?" He glared up at Cas, and was met by an expression of hurt and pain that Dean hadn't seen since Cas was standing in a ring of holy fire set by Team Free Will.
And then Cas zapped himself away, to go take care of some bees or something, and Dean was left alone in the torture dungeon with one more thing to hate himself for.