As I drew nearer to completing this, I found myself reverting back to the wonderful song, "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol.

I dedicate this entire piece to my flatmate and best friend, BestShipDestiel who managed to stick with me for three hours on Gmail until we finished this piece. Check out her page sometime; you won't be disappointed!


"Dean, I don't understand why we're here."
Dean combed his fingers through his ochre hair. It was cumbersome enough waltzing around a department store with another man, but it was another thing when the man he was with didn't even bother to present himself. His dark hair was a disheveled mess; his maroon jacket was tarnished over weeks of never seeing a laundry hamper, and his pants were splotched with only God knows what. He almost immediately regretted his decision helping him when he took one more look at his best friend. Sam would have been better suited for this kind of dilemma. Sam had a finite source of untapped patience, whereas his was running thin on a daily basis.
"You look like a rag doll, man."
Cas pursed his lips as if to say something but thought better of it when Dean clasped his forearm, forcibly but silently dragging him to the men's section.
"What size are your pants?" Dean asked, dropping Castiel's forearm as he browsed the store's inventory.
Castiel glanced down at his shoes, a small frown crossing his face. Dean glanced up to catch his expression.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Okay, come 'ere."
Cas looked up from his shoes and stepped closer to Dean, only to have him spin him around so his back faced Dean.
Dean knelt down on the ground and held up a pair of jeans, pressing the waist against Castiel's own. He made a small grunt of approval for the pair and tossed it to the side. "Guess you wouldn't know what your shirt size is?"
Cas peered over his shoulder and shook his head.
"Course not," Dean muttered. After a moment of contemplation- which for Dean Winchester consisted of the classic chin stroke and pursed lips-he found only one solution. "Take off your shirt." Cas averted his eyes from the taller man to the ground and shifted his legs. Dean drew yet another exasperated sigh. "You're kidding me, right? You're not-" Cas' cerulean eyes silenced him almost immediately and he succumbed to his solemnity. "Oh, fine. There's a dressing room just down the way. You think you can manage?" he grumbled. Dean slipped his hand over his mouth, prohibiting Cas from uttering another protest. "I'll be with you inside the stall." Dean could feel Cas' mouth curl underneath his fingers and he removed them swiftly, using them to latch onto his sleeve again and drag him away.
Dean led Cas to the dressing room and grabbed one of numbered hangers. "The one on the end is open," he said, pushing Castiel in front of him. Cas stumbled slightly and threw a glare back before going into the stall. Dean smiled to himself and followed, placing the hanger on the handle, not realizing the item count was ten.
"Come on, strip. If I have to shop for you I have to know what to buy."
"Fine." Cas turned his back to Dean, shrugging off his coat. Dean sat down on the small bench and took the coat from Cas, laying it bunched up in his lap.
Cas slowly unbuttoned his shirt, staring in the mirror. He knew he shouldn't feel awkward stripping in front of Dean but for some reason he did.
Dean hadn't realized he'd been gawking the entire time until Cas noted his action through the mirror and cleared his throat. Their eyes met briefly, the lump in his throat becoming thicker as the time lagged on like molasses. There was an elephant in the room, they both new well enough, though neither of them took the initiative to work their way around it. Cas fumbled with the zipper on his discolored jacket before attempting to peel it over his head instead. Once his struggle became too apparent with grunts and moans, Dean stood up and leant his friend a hand. He placed either hands under the fabric and onto his exposed skin underneath, wrestling with the item while vying not to hurt Cas. Eventually the piece came off with his undershirt and Cas was the one to heave a sigh, as if the whole five minute experience in itself had been traumatic. "That was... intense." Cas stretched the last word; Dean only rolled his eyes, picking up the faded tee and flipping it inside out, searching for the tag.
"Really Cas? A small? I mean I know you're smaller guy but I expected a medium."
Cas rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his bare chest. "Can I have my shirt back now Dean?" he asked quietly, looking away from the hunter.
"Yeah sure." Dean lifted the shirt up, surprised by how quick Cas snatched it up and pulled it over his head. "Whoa man, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Cas barked, shrugging on his jacket.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, whatever. No need to bite my head off." He stood up, placing the coat beside him.
Cas frowned and looked down at his shoes, which he had managed to find rather interesting a lot since he had come here with Dean. "I'm sorry, Dean."
Dean's emerald eyes found Cas' again not before he perceived water brimming inside them, adding a glazed coat around his dull sapphires. He kept his head down, avoiding Dean's curious gaze. This was the first time Dean had ever seen him cry, and frankly, he hadn't the slightest idea what to do about it. He found himself wrapping his hands around his neck and wiping away the first tear to cascade down his cheeks. "What's wrong, man? " When he didn't receive a response, he moved his other thumb to lift his chin to meet his eyes. "Cas, what's the matter?" he pressed.
"I didn't me-mean... to snap at you," Cas managed to whisper.
"Well I know that Cas, but what's wrong?" Dean smiled halfheartedly.
The smaller man was quiet for a moment, trying to swallow the lump that was building in this throat. "You teased me."
"Is that it?" Dean lifted Cas's chin higher, making it impossible to break eye contact.
"...No..."
Dean wiped another tear off of Castiel's cheek, "Then what is it Cas?"
"I don't know Dean!" Cas choked out, pushing past him and rushed out of the suddenly too small changing room.
Dean ran his fingers through his hair. "Son of a bitch."
Dean didn't hesitate chasing after Cas storming out of the department store. He seized him by the forearm, spinning him around to face him again. Cas wriggled under his grip; he should have remembered Dean was strong. "Dean... don't... don't do that..."
"Don't do what, Cas?!" Dean barked. "Be concerned?! You're my best friend; I can't bare to see you wallow in self-pity."
"Don't touch me!" Cas growled, struggling and pulling free with one hard yank.
"What?" Dean asked, dropping his hand like he burned himself.
"Do. Not. Touch. Me." Cas repeated, spitting the words out of his mouth like acid.
"I heard you the first time. What the hell is going on Cas?"
"I already told you I don't know Dean!" Cas's voice broke, "Just don't touch me. Please just don't."
Dean watched as Cas stalked out of the parking lot until he was a good hundred yards away and bellowed, "Where the hell're you going without a ride?"
He chuckled to release any tension from his aching body but found it immensely hard to focus on anything but the man fading fast from his perception.

Dean found Cas after the long ride home in the one place he least expected him to be: Sam's room. To make matters even stranger, he was confiding in the moose of a man, yapping away as if all his troubles were gone. When he saw Dean standing in the doorframe leaning into their conversation, however, the volumes of the two men dropped drastically until either said men fell completely silent.
Dean bit his tongue irritated and tossed the two bags of clothes he bought for Cas on Sammy's bed. "You forgot these earlier," he muttered, turning to leave.
Sam pointed at Cas then at Dean silently as his brother stalked off.
Castiel just picked up one of Sam's pillows and buried his face in it.
"You know you have to tell him why you were upset Cas," Sam murmured when Dean was safely out of earshot.
"...I know," came the muffled reply. "I just don't know how to."
Sam tugged on the corner of the pillow, not letting go until Castiel turned his gaze to meet the younger Winchester's. "Tell him the truth. That'll be enough."
Cas frowned doubtfully but nodded anyway.
Sam smiled. "Go already then."
A small smile crept onto his face, illuminating every contour of his warn facade. Sam returned with a tender smile once more before shipping him away with the firm grip of his large hand around his shoulder. Cas placed his own hand over his, turned to meet his gaze, replied with a quick "Thank you, Sam" and turned down the narrow corridor and inched inside the crevice that lead to Dean's "man cave", as he often put it. Dean deterred his eyes from his music player and pulled out his headphones when he heard a soft knock on the door. He sat up a little straighter on his mattress, using the bedpost to steady himself and lean against to get a better view of the former angel.
One word all too familiar to his dictionary managed to escape his lips. "Cas..."
"Can.. can I come in?" Cas mentally kicked himself. What was it about Dean's voice that did this to him? Make him feel like a new angel that just discovered his wings. The worst thing about that feeling was that now that he was human, the feeling was more intense and harder to describe.
"Sure."
Cas walked in and sat on the edge of Dean's bed, facing away from the hunter in an attempt to steel his nerves. "I wanted to talk about today..."
Dean shut off his mp3 completely and set it aside. "Oh? Had enough of gossiping to Sam?" Shit where did that come from?Dean thought, his heart jumping as Cas stiffened.
"That's not... can I please tell you what I want to?" Cas asked almost inaudibly.
Apprehension ran as thick as thieves through his veins and his heart began to pound madly against his rib-cage, demanding for a route out of his chest. When he did finally work up the nerve to speak, he found himself tripping over his own words. "I-Dean, for a while I've been experiencing-and it's really starting to take its toll-it won't let me-I haven't been-I can't-I..." His words disintegrated into thin air and instead of verbal communication, he settled for his last resort, pressing his lips to his own.
Cas felt Dean freeze against him and it was all he could do not to run away, not to let Dean know how much it hurt not to have him feel the same way, not to love him back. He felt the tears running down his face before he even realized he was crying. He slowly pulled away from Dean. "No matter what you feel towards me Dean, no matter if you hate me, I will always love you. I'm sorry if I upset you today." Cas got up from the bed and was halfway to the door when Dean grabbed his hand. "Close the door Cas."
Castiel turned, his sapphire eyes blurred aqua. "What?"
Dean pulled him in by the nape of his neck, sliding his lips across Cas's again, and pressed him against the door so that it slammed behind him. "I said door closed, comrade," he breathed through his mouth. This time Cas managed to phrase a few words.
"Dean, how long?"
Dean hushed him with another firm kiss, his tongue vying for entrance. "Too long."
Cas slid his hands up Dean's back, clutching his jacket as Dean pressed him harder into the door, slowly lifting him up. "Wrap your legs around my waist," Dean growled, moving his mouth down Castiel's lips to his neck.
Cas nodded as well as he could with Dean sliding his tongue across his skin. He lifted one leg and gasped as Dean grabbed the other, hoisting him onto his body.
Dean smiled as Cas clung to him, and walked back to the bed, laying Cas gently down.
"Dean, I-I-" Dean silenced him once more, only this time the kiss he placed on his plush lips was enough to send warm vibrations trailing south of his border. Said man noticed this smooth transaction which only made him press himself harder into his body, initiating a low growl from the angel.
"This is really not the time to insert comments, Cas." Dean sighed, sliding his shirt enough for his lips to return to Cas' flushed skin once more.
"Bu-but..." Cas stammered, only to be cut off by a sharp glare from Dean.
"What did I say?"
"No commentary?"
"So shut up Cas," he growled trailing hard kisses down from Cas's stomach to his jeans. A soft moan trickled itself out of Castiel's mouth, fully aroused by the sight of Dean working his tongue down his sensitive skin.
Even as Dean began to slide off his jeans-which surprisingly wasn't an easy task because whatever kind of arousal he caused on Cas had his jeans soaked with perspiration-Cas still wouldn't shut up. Dean threw his head back, his patience running thin. "Alright, what is it you're so dying to tell me, Cas, hmm?" Cas paused in an instant, his lips mapping their way around invisible words.
"I just wanted to say I love you."
Dean couldn't help but beam. "Cas, you already said that."
"I know, I just... thought it was worth saying again," he mumbled, tossing his head to avert himself from Dean's incredulous stare.
"I love you too, man."
"No."
Dean stitched his eyebrows together. "No what?"
"Not I love you 'man', I'm not one of your comrades you can call whatever your masculinity feels is appropriate."
Dean stifled a low growl in the back of his throat. He never thought he'd be the one on the other side of the fence. "Damn, Cas. I really do love you."
Cas smiled and ran his fingers through Dean's short sandy hair. "Dean?"
Dean tilted his head toward Cas's fingers, "Yeah?"
"I love you too."
Dean smiled and brought Cas's hand down to his mouth. "I love you." Dean kissed his fingertips gently before brushing his lips down to caress Castiel's hip.
"Say it again?" Cas gasped.
Dean smiled, trailing his tongue down to Cas's thigh. "I love you." He punctuated his words with small bites to his former angels's flesh.
"Again."
"I. Love. You. Castiel."
"God... Dean..."
"I. Fucking. Love. You. Castiel."
Those three words were enough to send Cas in a spiral because they weren't just words; they were a declaration of charity, a vouch, a symbol of devotion engraved in his mind for eternity. No matter how many times they rolled off his or his hunter's tongue, even if they laid beside each other for a lifetime, even as they would near their death beds, he wouldn't ever tire of hearing those words. It was his sanctuary away from the house of God, the beacon to his ship, whatever you chose to label it, they were his haven that shielded himhim from the hardships in his life. And soon, as Dean began to run his tongue over his hard shaft, he reiterated those same words back to him, and every time, their beauty stunned him so much so that he fell silent, finally succumbing into Dean Winchester.