Dean walks out of the bathroom, hair still damp from his shower, and right into Castiel.
"Dude!" He stops, putting up his hands between the two of them. "Personal space!"
Castiel ignores the plea and stands his ground. "Hello, Dean."
Dean twists to look at Sam's empty bed. "Where's my brother?"
"Arizona," Castiel says simply. "I will fetch him when I am finished here. We must speak privately."
Dean lifts his hands higher, from a position of defense to a position of surrender. "Fine. What's up?" He starts to roll up the sleeves of his olive button-down. If Cas is here, something must be wrong.
"I am… distressed," says Castiel. His brow furrows slightly, steely blue eyes unwavering.
Dean glances up cursorily to meet Castiel's eyes, and says, "By?"
"You." When this garners no response, he continues, "I cannot seem to draw away from you, Dean Winchester. I have been orbiting your life for some months now. I am, I think, attracted to you as a moon is to a planet."
Dean considers laughing, but Castiel's eyes are serious. "Are you… trying to seduce me?" he asks, tone light, but the question is there.
Cas nods. "I believe I am. I have difficulty, understanding human emotions, but under the circumstances, this is an accurate explanation of my actions. This attraction is unlike my connection with any other human. I can only justify it by calling it affection."
"Oh. Okay."
Dean neither reciprocates more rejects the words. But by the way he keeps staring at the curve of Castiel's lower lip, Cas can only imagine…
Then Dean leans in, ever so slightly.
He has yet to meet Castiel's eyes, and so Castiel instead admires Dean's dark blonde eyelashes, three shades lighter than his hair.
They stand like that for seven heartbeats, Castiel counts. But he counts using Dean's steady pulse, for his own is accelerating rapidly. Then, on the seventh beat, Dean draws away, quickly, his movements rough and jolting. He strides three paces away, to the foot of the motel bed, and turns his back on Castiel.
"This, this is way too fucked up. Just give me a minute to…"
"Would you like me to take my leave of you?" Castiel's tone is polite, concealing the nerves beneath.
"No!" Dean turns. He freezes with a jolt as his eyes meet Castiel's, one hand lifted slightly, mouth still parted on the O. Another pregnant pause. "Just stay, and let me think this through. It's not every day an angel confesses his love to me."
Castiel flinches at the word. He does not like emotions. This conversation makes me feel vulnerable, unsteady. It makes him feel human.
Castiel thinks he would like to live the rest of his life in a room with walls the color of Dean's eyes.
"Okay, Cas," Dean says, slowly, evenly, "if you really mean what you're saying-"
"I do not lie, Dean, not to you. Not anymore." It is not said with sentiment, but with cool logic. Fact: Castiel cannot lie to Dean Winchester.
"I- I always thought I liked girls, you know?" Dean seems to talking more to the window than to Castiel. "And I still do, I mean. Way more than guys. I don't even think I like any guys, other than…"
"I can assume a female vessel, if you would prefer it. That may take time to find the appropriate human, but-"
"No, no, I like Jimmy. He suits you. I'm just still getting used to the idea of being interested in a man."
"I do not believe I have an attraction to humans outside of you," says Castiel. He is trying very hard to keep this conversation less about emotions and more about facts. Fact: Castiel is attracted to Dean, and Dean alone.
"It's that profound bond we have." Dean says it as a joke, air quotes around the idea, but a small part of him wonders if it's true. Castiel built this body from scratch. That kind of connection can't be forgotten.
When Castiel says nothing, Dean swallows the lump in his throat. "I, uh… We have a hunt for today, Sam and I. It doesn't work so well when he's in Arizona. Maybe you could bring him back now?"
"You understand why I had to remove him from the premises."
"I'm not very good at this whole expressing-my-feelings thing, Cas, and neither are you. Let's just move on, and, you know, see how it goes."
"See how it goes," Castiel repeats. "You are accepting my words." This is not a question. Dean returns to his side.
For a moment, without Sam in the room, Dean suddenly seems so much taller. He lifts a hand, hesitates, and then runs his knuckles down Castiel's jawline. He chuckles. "You need a shave, Cas."
Castiel ignores Dean's words. "Right, then. I will find your brother and-"
In one erratic movement, Dean lifts his other hand to Cas's jaw and kisses him.
It is not romantic, it is not sexual. In fact, Castiel cannot define the kiss as anything, because the moment the synapses in his mind connect, he stops thinking entirely. He only knows that Dean pulls away too soon.
Dean is out of breath, but Cas's breathing is steady for once. "That- that was okay," says Dean. "That was good, I think. It's a good start."
Castiel's next words are sheer logic, no emotion whatsoever. It is the tactical solution to the situation at hand. "Perhaps Arizona can wait."
A/N: A soft sequel, containing Sam's reaction, can be found here: s/9895177/1/