The smell was nearly unbearable at this point.
"Cas, I know you don't really want to get up, but seriously man, you smell like old gym socks and unwashed dude. We have the bunker now, we don't have to smell like cavemen all the time, you know." The words were cajoling this time, as they cycled through yet another bout of the same argument they'd been having all day. Annoyed, angry, placating, sympathetic, nothing seemed to be working.
Silence met his words, as they had the past few rounds. He threw up frustrated hands, stalking over to the bed that was currently housing a grumpy Castiel. "Cas?" He reached out a hand to shake the former angel out of his mood. His hand made contact and he nearly flinched back at how cold the other was. "Cas?" he said, softer this time.
"I'm always so cold. How do you stand it? When I was…myself, I never noticed temperature. It's different now, but you're still so much warmer than me. I feel like ice, always frozen, and I can't—" he trailed off, making a frustrated noise and burying his face in the pillow.
"Hey, hey, it's fine. Not everyone runs hot like Sammy and me," Dean said smirking a little. "But, you know, being cool is good too." Cas didn't say anything, and he knew his joke had fallen on deaf ears. Dean sighed.
"Okay, I give. Why won't you just climb into the shower and warm yourself up?"
"I don't like showers."
"What are you, five? Everyone has to bathe, man. It's just a human thing." He realized he had said the wrong thing when a shiver went through Cas like he'd been struck. Silence reigned again until Dean nodded and shifted further onto the bed. "Yeah…um, Cas, you know you're welcome to stay, right? I don't want there to be any question of that. We've settled our beef, so let's just…start over, yeah? We're good at that." He patted Cas on his blanketed shoulder, eliciting another flinch. His chest squeezed at he familiar reaction that he himself so often had.
"Hey…relax. M'not mad, and I wouldn't—" No need to lie; they'd all kicked each other's asses more than enough times to call the bluff. "Alright, I would if you were being a dick or something, but it's all good, okay? We're good." He waited until the tensed muscle relaxed before he removed his hand. "Now, come on, go and get clean. You remember how to work the shower, right?"
"I don't want to shower, Dean."
"Cas!"
"They feel like rain."
"What—"
"Everything horrible happens in the rain." Cas's voice was subdued. "So many things I never want to remember have happened as the sky broke open and cried. I heard a mother tell her child that, once. That when it rained it meant that Heaven was crying." He shuddered. "It isn't true, it is merely nature taking the course it was designed to take, but sometimes it feels like it was. Maybe the first time an angel cried, it rained. And it became a joke like the ones Uriel used to tell." He laughed bitterly, squeezing Dean's heart a little tighter. "And maybe I'm being the fanciful fool everyone thinks I am."
The ex-angel pulled the sheets tighter around himself, a soft, broken sound that Dean didn't want to think about was just audible in the soft hum of lamplight.
"Well, you're not wrong. A lot of shit happens in the rain. And in the sunlight. Shit just kind of happens when it damn well feels like it. But…I've had some pretty good times in the rain, too," he chuckled. "I remember this one time, Sammy and I made a mudslide out of the back yard. We came in so disgusting that we were still finding dirt a week later." He shook his head ruefully. "C'mon, I'll go start it up for you. Wouldn't want to waste water, now, would you?"
Cas hesitated, but Dean's mouth quirked up when a disgruntled face emerged from the sheets. "Dude, you reek. You're gonna be in there awhile. Better start now." He didn't bother to see if he was being followed, letting the other take his time. He wondered if Sammy would smile approvingly and say something about finally taking his advice and getting a bit of patience. Smirking, he turned the spray on and let it heat up before he turned to see Cas lingering in the doorway.
The soft patter of the shower did sound like rain, he mused. It was a lulling sound he didn't think about very often. "I'll, uh, let you get cleaned up." He was halfway around Cas before a hand grabbed his shirt carefully. Cas would probably forget he didn't have supernatural strength for a long time. They stayed like that, neither saying anything for a few minutes, before Dean heaved a sigh and shrugged. "Fine, whatever, but we're never talking about this again, capiche?"
Cas nodded, head down.
Dean nodded as well, just for something to do before he turned to face the other wall, trying not to listen to the sound of Cas shedding his clothes behind him. His mind was keenly aware of what Cas would look like, despite only having seen him in any state of undressed a handful of times. His mind's eye traced torso and strong arms further down into a lean abdomen—and he suddenly realized, heat shooting through his entire body at the revelation—he might never have to control those thoughts around Cas again. Without the often inconvenient mind-reading…
Oh.
His skin suddenly felt too tight, his hands felt raw and his stomach ached with the suddenly released tension he usually kept so tightly bound when Cas was near. It felt like his breath had been pushed out of him, and he made an aborted movement to turn and face his friend and see for himself if Cas looked the same when he didn't have to hide as when he could only imagine in the safety of the dreams he'd banned Cas from. He'd had his denial, his self-hatred and terror before he remembered that there were worse things than an uncertain sexuality to deal with. Acceptance followed later, and now...
The shower door slid open and closed again, and Dean's entire being snapped into action, like a man possessed. He hastily began stripping off socks and shoes, practically falling over as he tried to multitask getting his pants and shirt off, until he finally stood bare in the warm steam of the bathroom. He had never really felt naked before. Not where everything is put on display and a person has the power to shame any and every part of you. This went beyond the physical, though even that would wane with time, but there was something else that had Dean fighting the urge to cover his face and body and never step into that kind of vulnerability. He breathed in a ragged mouthful of air and whispered, "Cas" before he practically flung open the shower door. Powers that be help him, he was either going to be invited in or get a well-deserved slap in the face for his efforts.
Dark hair was matted to Castiel's head, dripping water along his spine and curved-in shoulders. His cheeks were flushed from the steam, and his lips red from being bitten. His eyes were tightly closed, his hands drawn close to his body, like a child trying to avoid getting wet. It would have been funny if Dean could remember how to breathe. So much skin to take in, and more than enough vulnerability to match his own. Flaws and perfections, dry patches of skin and soft fingertips, scars and bright eyes, sorrow and relief, anger and pleasure, hurting and soothing, Cas's body and his own. Nothing quite the same, but neither the opposite of the other. No contradictions, just a tug or pull or snag for every clear sky and easy drive.
Cas opened glassy blue eyes and looked at him. Dean let out the breath he hadn't known he'd taken. Just looking. He's looking at me. Those eyes took him in for all that he was, and let him do the same, and Dean had been right.
They were good.
Every new place their eyes alighted was untainted with judgment or something the other couldn't handle. They'd been through enough together. There was nothing new they could find to drive them away. And yet, everything was new. Each piece of them was being scrutinized in a new way. The thought sent a shiver trilling up Dean's spine. He stepped into the spray of the shower, behind Cas, shielding him from the sensation of the rain he feared. Rain was mourning to Cas, and until they could make better memories out of each drop, he would be content standing between Cas and the things that hurt him.
Tentative hands wrapped around his wrists to tug him closer and urged him to shape his body to the smaller one before him. A deep sigh pressed them closer as Cas let his head fall back against Dean's shoulder. "Am I wrong?" he asked quietly.
Dean laughed low in his throat. "No." A thousand jokes and innuendos he could make floated by, but he just let them pass peacefully. "You never were."
He let the rain fall around them.