Dean woke up, stretching out on his memory foam bed. There weren't any lights on in the bunker, so it was dark in his room, even though his clock read almost nine in the morning. He curled himself into a more comfortable position, or so it would seem to anyone who was watching him. He was really reaching for the knife he kept under his pillow, because he knew for a fact that someone else was in the room, watching him.
Dean swung his arm in a wide arc, blade whooshing, only to have his wrist caught in a vise-like grip. "Dean," a familiar, deep voice hissed. "It's me."
"Cas? What the hell are you doing in here, man?" he asked groggily.
"I haven't been able to sleep," Castiel said simply. Dean noticed that Cas still had his hand around his wrist and tried to pull away. "We need to talk," the former angel said in his usual monotone.
"Alright, but does talking require you manhandle me?" Dean jerked his arm away. He clicked on the lamp on his nightstand. And there he was: Castiel. Dean couldn't deny that he had been and still was attracted to him. But that was only to himself. Outwardly, he would never admit his true feelings. There were times when he feared it was obvious, but nobody said anything, so he wrote it off as paranoia.
Dean finally allowed his vivid green eyes to meet Cas's glowing blue ones. The moment the connection was made, he felt something deep inside, something new and bright that he'd never imagined he could feel. He couldn't help but wonder if Cas felt it, too.
"Hit me," the hunter said. Cas squinted, cocking his head ever-so slightly to the side to show that he didn't understand. "I meant go ahead. What do you wanna talk about?" He swung his legs over the edge of the bed so that he was sitting, and it took him by surprise when Cas sat next to him. Dean tried to stand, but Cas held him by the shoulder.
He felt the spark from the contact through his AC/DC t-shirt. Not static, but chemistry. For just a moment, Dean forgot how to breathe. Castiel's hand covered the scar that had been seared on him in Hell, the handprint where Cas had pulled him from perdition. He seemed oblivious to this, staring at Dean in that unblinking way. Dean told everyone that it made him uncomfortable, but in reality, it made him melt a little on the inside.
"Dean," Cas started. "Since…everything, since I'm human…" He seemed to be having difficulty forming the words. "I just need to say this, and if you are truly my friend, you will understand."
"Look," Dean sighed. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You know that, right?" Cas nodded, swallowing nervously. Dean only sighed again and looked away. He trusted Cas, really, but he also wanted Cas to trust him. He turned back and found that Cas's face was centimeters from his own. His breathing slowed, his heart rate picked up, and his palms began to sweat. How can he have this kind of an effect on me? Dean wondered.
He noticed that Cas was breathing in the same manner; delicately, as though the air would break Dean if it came out too fast. "Cas?" He wasn't sure what else to say, but his name sounded right. "Castiel," he experimented, tasting the word and liking the way it rolled off of his tongue. He decided that he definitely needed to use his full name more often. Cas's lips turned up in a rare smile.
"Yes, Dean?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"I wish you wouldn't look at me like that."
"Why not?" Cas was leaning forward slightly, closing the gap between them. Dean had warned him about personal space more than once, and would have done so then, except he liked where this was going. He opened his mouth to answer a question that he knew had been asked, even though the details were hazy, but it was too late.
Castiel brushed his lips across Dean's, making him feel numb. It only lasted half a second and Cas was about to pull away, but Dean wouldn't have it. He slipped his fingers through Cas's already tousled hair, holding him by the nape of his neck and yanking him back. Their mouths melded together and they both closed their eyes. Dean's other arm wrapped around Cas's waist and Cas responded by holding on to his shoulders.
Dean would have thought, given Cas's absence of experience with these types of things, that it would be awkward. But, as he was so expertly demonstrating, Cas's kiss proved to be more deep and meaningful than any other Dean had ever had. When they finally parted, they were both struggling for breath. Still wrapped in their embrace, Dean pressed his forehead to Castiel's and laughed quietly. He saw that Cas was grinning.
"Finally," a voice said from the doorway. They looked up and saw Sam smiling at them. "It's about time you two stopped flirting and just got it over with."
"How long have you been standing there, perv?" Dean jumped up. Sam backed up, hands raised in mock innocence, and continued to the library. Dean simply shut the door and went back to (though he no longer had wings) his angel.