Dean and Cas were sitting abnormally close on the worn out couch in the motel. Both men had their eyes on the television, even though both were not quite sure what they were watching. Every now and then, Dean would catch Cas staring at him and that made Dean feel somewhat pleased. Getting bored of the silence, Dean faked a cough.
Cas turned his way and squinted. "Are you okay?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, it's just kind of quiet, you know? I mean hell; we have the TV on mute. I don't even know why we have it on."
Cas silently agreed and grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. "What shall we do now?"
"Beats me. Enjoy each other's presence?" Dean asked, blushing as soon as he realized how lame he sounded.
Cas actually laughed. "Dean, you never fail to make me laugh."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
A few seconds of silence passed by before Cas made an internal decision. He lifted his left hand and placed it in Dean's. He bit his lip, wondering if he made a mistake, but he instantly eased up when he felt Dean's hand relax and wrap back around his.
Dean's heart was violently thudding against his chest, but he felt like he had been waiting on this moment forever. Cas' hand felt warm and surprisingly soft in his. Dean might have done a hundred different things in his life, but he had never had the simple task of holding someone's hand in his own.
The two men never said anything out loud, but their entwined hands told a story of their own.