"So where off to now?" Dean asked, putting his arms to rest on the black hood of his Impala. The lights from outside Nora's house flickered off, leaving only the dim street lamp to provide a dull glow, elongating their shadows. Cas scrunched his face up, as if he wants to say something but didn't know how to say it. He ended up settling on a frown before opening the side door of the car and getting in, choosing to not utter a word. Dean shrugged his shoulders, following suit.
"I don't have a place to go," Cas murmured after a few moments of silence. He looked over to Dean, unsure of what more he could ask of the other man.
"That's what I figured," Dean finally said. "Where have you been sleeping then if you don't have a home?"
"In the break room," Cas admitted. "It's not very comfortable, but it works."
"Sleeping bag?"
Cas nodded his head, and pursed his lips. "I would suggest going back to the bunker, but I already tried that before and we both know how that worked out."
"Cas, you got a life here. You can start fresh, anew. You can be happy for once," Dean defended. Dean thought that after the many times that he had said those words aloud, that they would have eventually bled into reality, yet they still stayed as false truths.
"I was happy before." Cas looked up, blue eyes meeting green, "with you."
And there it was, the knots in Dean's stomach, the tight clenching of his heart as it beat faster and faster. The words slipped out of Dean's mouth before he had a chance to stop them. "You can always crash here if you want."
"Here?" Castiel questioned.
Dean ran his tongue over his chapped lower lip. "Backseat's always open," he said, jerking his thumb to the leather seats.
"Where will you sleep then?"
"You know, for being on Earth for so long, you're still pretty clueless when it comes it human interactions." Dean laughed. Cas glared at him, until the wheels in his head started turning and he realized what Dean had actually meant. He broke out into a faint smile.
After driving around for a few minutes, they had finally stumbled upon a nearly empty parking lot. They had quickly climbed into the backseat, and although Dean had to admit it was a bit of a tight squeeze, fitting in two men who were both over six feet tall, he was comfortable, more comfortable than he had been at the bunker for sure. Shoes were disregarded, thrown in the front seat. Jackets (and one blue vest) were being used as makeshift blankets. One of Dean's arms was draped over Cas' shoulder while one of Cas' arms was thrown over Dean's stomach, lightly tracing patterns through the worn fabric with his fingertips. The only sound was of the gentle hum of the parking lot lights accompanied by the barely audible noise of their in sync breaths.
"You're leaving tomorrow?" Cas asked, his voice hushed as if he was afraid of breaking the calming silence. In all honesty, it was more of a statement than a question; he already knew, and dreaded, the answer.
"Have to," Dean replied, his voice muffled by Cas' dark mass of hair. Dean pressed a soft kiss to the other man's temple, slowly intertwining their fingers. "I don't want to. I'm sorry." And his words rang true: he didn't want to be gathering lies upon lies in the palms of his hands, but that was the only way that he knew that Cas would be safe, by keeping him ignorant, in the shadows. He was sorry for he knew in the back of his mind that it was only a matter of time before the lies would come crashing down on them. He was sorry for not being the one to guide Cas through his new state, even though he wanted ever so badly to be his mentor. He was sorry for having to push Cas away all the times that he had wanted to pull him closer. He was sorry for being the source of Cas' pain. He really, truly, was. "We messed up things pretty badly and we gotta try and make them right before it's too late," Dean added.
"We all make mistakes," Cas said soothingly. "Everything in this universe makes mistakes. Humanity seems to be more prone to them, however. Humanity is… more complicated than I had anticipated." He breathed out a sigh, gently squeezing Dean's fingers. "You all are imperfect, yet all perfect in the same sense. It's boggling."
The arm that was wrapped around Cas' shoulder tightened its grasp, pulling Cas even closer to Dean. "You're one of us now," he pointed out. He kissed Cas' chin, feeling the stubble under his lips as he did so.
Cas turned his head to face Dean's. "I'm aware." He moved his head forehead until their lips met. It started out as a short, sweet kiss, but it quickly turned more passionate and heated as the words that they had trouble forming translated into actions. Dean found himself lightly nipping on Cas' lower lip, seeking entrance to which Cas happily obliged.
Cas broke the kiss to get into a more comfortable position; his hand was already starting to fall asleep on him. They sat up, Cas' back resting up against the frosting glass of the window. Their lips met again in a frenzied clash of teeth and tongue. Dean wrapped his hands around Cas' waist, practically pulling the other man up so Cas was sitting in his lap. Cas' long legs were straddling Dean's hips. Cas wound his fingers in Dean's hair, pulling on the strands to get their mouths even closer together than they already were.
Dean's hands wandered, leaving Cas' hips in favor of traveling up and under his shirt. He felt Cas shiver at his touch.
Cas pulled away, resting his forehead on Dean's, eyes shut close. His hands left Dean's hair to take hold of his wrists. Cas pulled them so their now joined hands were resting on his lap. His eyes flicked upon, revealing blue irises eaten away by pupils blown with lust. "Not now Dean. I have work tomorrow," Cas tried to explain. "You know that." They were so close that their breaths intermingled. Warm waves of Dean's breaths washed over his face. Cas had missed the calming atmosphere that was brought along with Dean's presence.
"We have all night though," Dean protested, slightly mad that after finally being able to touch Cas again after so long, he was being restricted.
"No, Dean." Cas shook his head, sighing. He pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's lips. "Let's just relax. Who knows how long it will be until we see each other again. Let's just enjoy each other's presence and try to get some sleep."
"Don't talk like, Cas," Dean said with a frown. That was the scary thing about being with a person like Cas; you never knew when you were going to meet again, if at all. You quickly learned to cherish each moment spent together.
"It's just the truth," he replied solemnly. He laid back down on the Impala's backseat, resting his head in Dean's lap. His irises were visible again, and his breathing evened out. "As much as I don't want it to be, it is."
Dean carded his finger through Cas' hair. He wanted to, right then and there, tell Cas everything: about Ezekiel, about Sam, about Crowley, about Abaddon, about Kevin, but he couldn't; the words stayed lodged in his throat.
"Tell me a story, Dean," Cas mumbled.
"What?"
"Tell me a story," he repeated. "Any story. Your favorite story. Your voice is very relaxing to me."
"Ok. Favorite story it is then." Dean cleared his throat, his hand still running through Cas' hair. "Once upon a time," he began grandly, "there was a little boy. And as bedtime stories, this boy's mother told him tales of great, great people, people that she said would always be watching over the boy, making sure that he was safe. But the boy, being young and foolish as young boys often are, did not believe in the people that his mother wove tales out of. And then one day, he was alone. He was scared and he didn't know what to do. And then a person appeared, the type of person that his mother had always talked about at his bedside. The person was bright and beautiful and kind. The person saved the boy, leaving a mark on him that no time could undo. But it was a good mark, and the boy left a mark on the person as well."
"They grew close, too close for the person's kind to be comfortable with. The boy and the person fought together, hunted together, and slowly but surely, they fell in love with each other. But the boy had buried his feelings deep inside of him for a long time, ashamed of them. Then one day, the boy plucked up enough courage to tell the person that he was in love with them and in reply, the person kissed him. It was the best kiss in the boy's world, the kind of kiss that makes your toes curl and leaves a seemingly permanent smile on your face, and for the first time in a long time, the boy felt that everything was going right in his life."
"Yet, they always were pulled apart by different things, because they weren't supposed to fall in love in first place, it just," Dean sighed, "kinda happened. You see, the person's kind was only meant to guide, not fall in love. And how could the boy fall in love with someone that he didn't even believe in? But fate follows no rules and their destinies collided in a shower of sparks. They fell deeper in love, but another incident happened that separated them, and they couldn't be together anymore. But like the many times before, that didn't stop them from trying, and after the whole fiasco was done and over with, they finally lived happily ever after with each other. The End."
"That's our story," Cas breathed after a minute of silence.
"Well you said to tell you my favorite story."
Cas smiled and pulled down Dean's head to kiss him and this time, when Dean's hands wandered up the back of his shirt, Cas didn't even attempt to stop him.
Morning came all too soon for the both of them. The hazily light seeped in through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything. Cas had woken up Dean, telling him with a soft voice to get up because he was going to be late for work and that couldn't happen considering that he was the one with the keys. Dean grudgingly followed Cas' orders, and drove Cas to the gas station, giving him a little wave as he watched his person unlocked the door and start getting things ready for the incoming customers. The boy remained in Cas' mind all throughout the long day and the person never left Dean's as he drove back home to the bunker.