The entire bunker was silent, and it was driving Dean nuts. Sam was out on a beer run and Cas was off in some corner somewhere, so Dean was left to entertain himself. Walking through the library, Dean spied the record player and a stack of records. He looked through the cardboard covers and came across one he hadn't listened to yet. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this one, when he would be alone. He pulled out the record and started it up. The soft music floated through the air, and Dean found himself pulled back into a memory of his mother, sitting on the edge of his bed and singing this very song to him. He hadn't heard it in years.
Checking to make sure he really was alone, Dean started swaying in place. But as the song progressed, his feet started to move and his arms lifted. He was ballroom dancing across the floor, his invisible partner matching him step for step. He spun and changed direction, the classes he had very briefly taken kicking in. He began to lose himself in the music. A moment later though, he heard a noise. He opened his eyes and saw Cas standing in the doorway looking confused. Dean tried to stop, but his momentum carried him over the back of a chair. He scrambled into a standing position and rushed to turn off the music.
"Dean, what are you doing?" Cas asked. Dean was blushing furiously and looking everywhere but at Cas, who had his head cocked to the side like an adorable, trenchcoated puppy.
"Nothing…I'll just…Um, food," he managed to stutter out and then he fled.
A few days later, Dean was laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sam had gone out, again, and Dean was still hiding from Cas. He couldn't believe Cas had snuck up on him like that, or that he had caught Dean dancing. Alone. Like a loser. Dean could feel his face heating up again just at the memory.
His face returned to normal temperature again as he sat up. Was that…? Someone was playing the record, loudly. Dean got up, sighing in resignation, and went to find out what was going on.
When he walked into the library, he froze. Cas was spinning in circles around the room, bumping into furniture and nearly knocking several lamps off of their bookshelves. His harms hung useless as his sides and his feet kept getting all tangled up in each other. Cas had his eyes closed, which was probably the reason why so much furniture was in danger. Dean stepped into the room. This had to be stopped. He walked over to the record player and stopped the music. Cas stopped and spun around to face him, looking like a caught little kid who knew he was about to get in trouble.
"Cas," Dean said slowly. "What are you doing?"
Cas hung his head. "I'm doing what you were doing."
Dean chuckled. "No, I was dancing. You were endangering the furniture." He looked a little more closely at Cas, taking in his red face, shuffling feet, and averted gaze. He had a sudden realization and almost laughed aloud, but caught himself at the last moment. He stepped towards the embarrassed angel.
"Cas."
"Yes, Dean."
"Have you danced before?"
"Of course I have, Dean," he snapped back. "I have lived for millennia and you think I haven't danced?"
Dean said nothing, just stared at Cas until the angel looked at him. When their eyes met, Dean raised an eyebrow. Cas' shoulders sagged.
"No, I haven't," he mumbled. "I don't know how."
"Well," Dean said, clapping his hands together and making Cas jump. "Let's fix that."
Cas stared at him in confusion as he turned back to the record player and started it up again. When Dean walked over to him, Cas backed away a step, but Dean kept going.
"What do you mean?" Cas stuttered.
"I mean, I can teach you how." Dean was close enough now that he could see Cas' eyes widen a bit, betraying the emotions that he usually hid so well.
"I hardly think I need to know how to-" Cas started to protest but Dean cut him off.
"If there is anything I know for certain it's that dancing guarantees that you'll get laid."
"But-"
"Shut up, Cas. You're learning how to dance." Cas muttered something in Enochian but didn't argue anymore. He was silent as Dean took his hands and showed him how to place them, one in Dean's and the other on his waist.
"For the record, if you ever tell Sam that I danced as a girl, I will kill you." Cas just nodded, and then they started to dance. Almost. They made it five or six steps before Cas stepped on Dean and, somehow, sent them both sprawling on the ground with Cas spluttering out apologies.
"Relax, man," Dean pulled them both up. "Try again."
This time it seemed that Cas had gotten the idea that stepping on his dancing partner wasn't going to work out. But he still got flustered and when it was time to change direction, he sent them sailing into a bookshelf.
"Alright," Dean said, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm leading this time."
Two hours later, Dean and Cas were able to dance around the library without knocking anything over or bruising any more body parts. In fact, Dean noted, Cas seemed relaxed and happier than he had looked in a while.
"Hey, Cas."
Cas hummed.
"Why were you trying to dance earlier? By yourself?"
Cas smiled at him. "Because of you, Dean."
"What?" Dean was confused. But Cas just nodded.
"When I walked in the other day and saw you dancing, you looked so happy and peaceful. I wondered what it was that had made you look that way."
Dean flushed and looked down. They were still holding on to each other, but not really dancing anymore. They were moving in a very small, intimate circle. Their faces were very close, Dean noticed. He took a deep breath.
"Cas," he started, but just then Sam walked in. He took one look at his older brother and the angel and turned on his heal and walked back out, looking extremely awkward. When Cas saw Sam, he flushed and with a flap of his wings, he disappeared, leaving Dean alone again.
"Son of a bitch," he sighed.