A/N: The usual. I don't own Supernatural/Dean/Sam/Cas/Meg/ect ect ect.

A little sloppy, imo. But another tumblr prompted Destiel. Prompted with "Dean and Cas' First Kiss".

Things were never wrapped up with a bow. There was never any happy ending or peaceful way to tie it all up and just leave it at that. Dean didn't believe in fairy tales, he didn't live in one, and he never expected things to just magically work out like one, either.
But things came close, sometimes.
Sure, there was still the big leviathan issue hanging over his head.
But after the tenth lead gone dead, he'd decided there was nothing he could do but hunt what was around and wait for an opening. When one didn't arrive in time (which to the impatient Winchester meant a small collection of months) he went poking around again.
After being laid up with a broken leg while Sammy dumped the leviathan heads encased in concrete in the bottom of a lake, Dean came to the brilliant conclusion that a vacation was in order.
And what better place than the mental hospital?
Time passed.
One thing lead to another. Somehow Cas got better, though the minute changes were barely anything profound or worth getting hopeful over. But they were progress, and that was enough to cause the doctors to release Cas into his family's care.
Which mean Dean and Sam, no matter what.
Sure, they'd argued at first. With Meg as witness, unfortunately.
But the straight facts were that they had all fucked up. They'd all stuck their dicks in the devil's bear traps, and holding on to the stories to throw at each other was pointless.
So a shaking, haunting look Cas had been stuffed in the impala.
Shotgun, to Sam's dismay. Not that he was totally shocked. He was beginning to expect a lot of changes out of his brother, not that he'd say so out loud.
But he caught the way Dean kept glancing at Cas on the ride to the small apartment Meg had reluctantly set up for them.
Demon guards, courtesy of Crowley in hopes that getting the boys and their pet angel back on their feet would push the leviathan war in his favor. Dean didn't question it too much, but he had a feeling the snake in the grass had a bad experience with daddy levi, and that was putting him in a better mood towards the shaken remnants of Team Free Will.
So they'd settled down. Sort of.
Dean still had to deal with Cas, who woke the whole damn building up with terrified screams or fits of fighting the air. Sam had to handle most of it, since he knew all the right things to say to make it better, and that pissed Dean off to no end.
He'd never say anything.
But watching his brother whisper to Cas, who was shoving himself into a corner so hard Dean worried the wall would buckle, drove him mad. He wanted to be the one there, comforting the other. He wanted to be the one helping the angel to his feet and patting his back.
At the very least, he was the one Cas came to at night when Lucifer wouldn't let him sleep.
He was the one Cas begged to sleep with. They'd started out with Cas sitting at his bedside, gripping Dean's hand like a fucking vice, and flinching whenever so much as a dust mote floated too close.
Eventually Dean had just said fuck it, and moved Cas' bed into his room, so impossibly close to his own that they were talking about getting a queen and being done with the mess.
Being that close, while awkward and at times positively maddening, was a special thing only he and Castiel shared. Sometimes, when the moon was full or the wind blew the right way, Cas was ok.
And they talked. Laughed. Stayed up all night, just laying side by side and trying to avoid all the topics that made Lucifer rear his ugly head.
It wasn't a happy ending. But it was the closest thing to peace Dean had felt for a long, long time.
"I'm sorry about Bobby." Cas murmured one night.
Dean wasn't sure if he kept forgetting he'd said the same thing before, or if his regret at not being around for the entire ordeal ran that deep. Either way, the reply was always the same gruff, "S'ok."
"It's not ok, Dean." the angel admonished. Despite the irony of the mental patient chastising him, of all people, Dean just sighed and stayed silent.
A hand weaseled it's way under the shared blankets, searching for Dean's own before gripping it tight.
"I'm serious."
Reluctantly Dean turned, staring into the blue eyes only a few feet away from his own. The moonlight from the window was barely enough light, and it cast pale shadows over Cas' face.
The whole room was black and silver and blue and the hunter paused to breathe for a time when he took it all in. When he didn't say anything else Castiel's face turned frustrated and he moved, staring back up at the ceiling.
They didn't say anything for a while. Cas knew better than to push it, and Dean was at a loss between talking about Bobby -which he did notwant to do- or saying something else though he had no idea what to talk about.
"Cas, I-" he started, only for the other to turn his head back over at the same time and talk right over him.
"I worry about you." The shorted spat out, sounding almost annoyed as his features turned up into a tight grimace. This time it was Dean's turn to look away, up at the ceiling.
How fucking funny was it, to hear that from Cas?
The guy that could barely get through breakfast without talking to thin air or having some break down Sam had to wrestle him out of. The angel of the lord who had pulled him from hell, thrown himself into battle a dozen times, and in some avoided future died for him to get a crack at the devil, was worried about him in the one time where Dean was supposed to be doing as much.
It was his turn to take care of Cas, not the other way around.
So why the hell was he still spouting nonsense, especially about Bobby?
Dean shook his head. "Cas, you worry too much." He turned slowly, trying to make it clear through expression rather than words that the other's concern was wasted.
But he stopped short when he saw the reflective streaks down the angel's face.
Eyes were shut tight, and as Dean sat up sharply Cas' hand around his own trembled.
Of course he just had to have an episode now, when Sammy was likely dead asleep.
Dean scrambled, looking around for some magic item to ease the pain away.
But all he found was his empty room and Cas laying next to him, looking like a child trying to lay still and pray some monster didn't see him under the covers.
"Please."he whispered, and the terrified tone in his voice pinned Dean in place.
"Please go away."The angel whimpered.
Sam wasn't nearby. He wasn't going to come in and save the day as per usual.
Dean was all Cas had, and he was immobile as the angel laid there, crying because he was too scared to move. Too frightened of what Lucifer would show him this time if he opened his eyes.
"I just want to be happy."
That was it. That was all it took.
Just like that Dean was over him. Around him.
Arms wrapped around Cas, dragging him as Dean leaned against the wall and pulled the angel with him. He whimpered, yelping like some kicked dog at first before blue eyes cracked open, assuring him it was Dean and not the devil that had such a terrifyingly resolute grip on him.
"It's ok, Cas." Dean half-growled.
All he could imagine was Lucifer, plaguing the angel. Torturing him on some invisible level Dean couldn't reach. It has his blood boiling, even if the other wasn't really there.
He had been real to Sam, and now he was real to Cas, and that was enough to make the young hunter hate the technically nonexistent demon.
In his arms, Cas squirmed and cried. He fought, wailing quietly about Lucifer and something only he could see. But Dean held on. Because he had no idea what to do. If he let go, Cas would just run to some far corner and curl up there, cold and alone. Scared for the rest of the night.
So he'd take the scratched raked down his bare arms by the angel. As long as it meant Cas would be in bed, warm, held close for the night. He'd had worse from monsters anyways. A few scrapes from a Christmas tree topper wouldn't be so bad.
"Cas. Cas. You're ok." Dean repeated over and over like some mantra, wishing at any moment it would break through to the man in his arms. It didn't help much, but in time Castiel tired himself out and eased. Dean's arms were raw, but the skin hadn't been pierced so the burning ache was ignored.
When things finally stilled he bent, tucking his head into the bend of Cas' neck, trying to find some fleeting sleep in the warmth there.
Something about feeling the other's pulse was a comfort. A reminder that the other was alive and, judging by the tempo, finally calming back down.
"Cas?" Dean whispered against the other's skin, too tired to fully lift his head.
When the angel offered a half-hoarse grunt in reply, the hunter eased.
"What did you see?"
It wasn't a pleasant thing to ask, but the doctors recommended it.
Talking about it was suppose to help.
Of course, like most times he didn't say anything. Often he wouldn't say anything to anyone but Sam, which pricked the older Winchester's nerves.
Tonight was no different, as a few heartbeats passed and he simple shook his head.
Dean was too tired to pry. He sighed, ignoring the shiver his breath across Cas' neck caused.
He stayed buried. Warm. Safe.
He listened to the calming thumps of Castiel's heartbeat, feeling them with his lips and trying desperately to remember a time in his life where the whole family was happy. Some moment where all of them, Cas and Bobby and Jo and Ellen included, were content.
"Dean." Cas rasped with a voice raked over by whimpering and crying.
It brought the lulling hunter into full waking awareness, and half-alarmed green eyes turned up as his heavy head rose.
"Hmm? What's up, Cas?"
"I saw you." He whispered solemnly.
It was the first time he'd offered to share without force.
Dean had no idea what to say. So he didn't. He just stared down at Cas' shoulder, letting the room hang in silence until the angel spoke again.
"More accurately.. I saw.. Lucifer. And you."
He waited a long time, but for the first time Dean was patient.
"You were on fire. Back in the pit. Lucifer said he'd thrown you back down, as I was no longer able to stop him from doing so."
When he shuddered Dean's arms tightened slightly.
He blinked, raking eyelashes over Cas' skin, then sighed again,
"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." he mumbled. But his head was bobbing slowly, and every other word drug lips over the other's skin.
"I know." Cas said quietly. It was so feint just the sound of their breathing almost swallowed it up.
"Hey." Dean grunted, sleepiness making his voice rise unevenly. Cas flinched, which only made him hold the other closer against his chest. In the haze of sleep green eyes imagined towering black wings curled tight against the other's back, pinned against Dean's chest uncomfortably.
Slowly Dean's arms relaxed, and Cas seemed to do the same.
"Tell Lucifer to suck a bag o'dicks, cause I ain't goin' nowhere." Dean huffed before letting his face lay back against the other.
Cas laughed. Of all the things. It made Dean smile, and the expression stretched out and pressed his cheeks further into the angel's skin.
When he was seconds from nodding off, Cas spoke again.
"Dean?" He called. Again the hunter was wide awake, lifting up and trying to blink the exhaustion away.
"Yeah?" He grunted sloppily, fighting the weight of his head as it bobbed beside Cas' ear.
"Thank you."
Castiel had twisted to face Dean as he spoke, and his words blew heated breath over the hunter's lips.
Dean never considered himself anything but straight.
Even with all the love he had for Cas, he'd never seen the other as anything more than a brother.
Sure, there had been odd moments when he'd seen "Emanuel's" wife and felt some strange tinge of jealousy. But that wasn't love. Not like what he felt for the girls at bars, or the one woman whose name he refused to think.
It was different, therefore it couldn't be love.
But whatever it was, it had him leaning in. Pressing hesitantly while fear and adrenaline streaked through his veins like heroin.
It felt wrong and right and releasing yet horrifying all at once.
Dean was scared, though he wasn't sure of what.
He was happy, though he didn't know what for.
He was everything and nothing and finally, finally
he felt whole.
Some piece of him his father had crumbled up and tossed away, some chunk of himself hell had burnt into ash, some sliver of himself Cas had once upon a time shattered was there, sliding into place like a lost puzzle piece finally found.
And after having it, he didn't want to lose it.
He held on, tight. With arms and lips and shared strain as they struggled for air but refused to break the lock, he held on.
When they separated, it was brief. Seconds. Just to gasp before diving back under the airless surface.
At some point they collapsed back onto bed, laying with arms intertwined and lips pressing whenever oxygen wasn't absolutely demanded.
"Dean." Cas finally spoke as the hunter panted between kisses.
"While I don't need to breathe, you do."
He shifted, taking his lips away from the other only to press them to the human's collar bone.
"Breathe, Dean." he said softly, almost chastising.
He did so, only until he could speak without feeling out of breath.
"Cas…"
What was he supposed to say? Sorry? Castiel hadn't seemed to disapprove..
"I…"
But Castiel knew better. He didn't want Lucifer to ruin the moment, but more so he didn't want Dean's mental fumbling to do so either.
He had loved the other for an impossibly long time. He had watched Dean settle with a woman, and had still loved him. They had fallen apart and reformed and even when he couldn't remember the man, he had loved him in a confusing, frightening way.
But Dean was just setting foot into the territory Cas knew by heart.
While to the angel love and gender didn't effect one another, they tended to for humans.
And if he knew anything about Dean, it was that if he didn't understand something, if he wasn't comfortable with it, if he felt like his masculinity was threatened in any way, things would turn sour.
So he shifted, moving back just slightly until Dean's arms tightened around him.
Then he placed an almost chaste kiss against the hunter's closest shoulder, felt the welt of his own hand print in the other's skin, and smiled. Castiel shut his eyes, finally hearing no more than Dean's breathing.
He didn't hear Lucifer. Didn't seem him looming over Dean's shoulder like normal when his eyes were open, and didn't see Dean burning when they were shut.
He was alone with the human. At last.
"Dean." Cas whispered, probably driving the other away from the edge of sleep for the third time.
A grunt answered him, though it was gentler than usual.
"It's quiet."
"Do you want me to get the radio?" Dean moved to sit up, and Cas stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"No, Dean." He spoke firmly. "I mean,it's quiet."
"Oh. ….Ohh."
Dean laid back down, watching the other carefully as he moved back to his own bed wedged against Dean's. While the proximity was a blessing, he knew better than to rush things.
Of course, he was the only one that wise, for as soon as Dean settled again he threw an arm out, weaving it under Cas' neck and halfway dragging the other against his chest.
It felt whole, and right, and he didn't want to let that go, even if it confused him and scared him a little.
That night was technically the beginning of their relationship.
It was a time Cas recalled fondly when Dean went out alone to poke his nose into leviathan trouble, and it was a night Dean reminded himself off in cold hotels, alone and imagining the heat of Cas beside him.
It took him a long time to figure out what it meant, how he felt, and what to do about it.
Even longer before they ever kissed again, and longer still before those kisses lead to talk of emotions and what that meant about the hunter's sexuality.
Before before those months and years down the road, before Cas recovered and the leviathans had their slimy asses caged back where they belonged, there was one thought firmly placed in Dean's head.
At last he had some way to comfort the other that Sam couldn't.
The smug smile stayed on his face even as he fell heavily into slumber.