Months passed by in a whir as Cas and Dean became closer and closer friends. Sometimes Sam would be thrown into the mix for a lunch or coffee, here or there, but the bond that grew the tightest was between the mechanic and the professor.
Dean and Cas were now in a rut – same ordeal every day. Just before morning classes, Cas would stop by Dean's apartment for a cup of coffee and a quick chat. Then, after Cas's morning classes were over and just as Dean's lunch break started, Cas would come pick up Dean from the shop and take him to the diner they went to the day they had met. They stretched the lunch break out as long as they could, until Bobby would come to the Diner and get Ellen to "kick those idjits out." Dean and Cas rolled their eyes everyday and Cas would bring Dean back to the garage to finish out his day.
Dinner was constantly varying. As the months slipped away, more and more of those dinners were shared between Dean, Sam, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and Cas; he was starting to become part of the close-knit family.
So regular had Cas's place become at that family table that when Cas didn't show up for dinner one night everyone became concerned.
"I'm sure he just went to take a nap at the Shack and forgot to set an alarm," Dean reasoned, referencing the nickname he gave Cas's worn-down house. "I'll go over there now. You'll see there's nothing to be worried about."
As Dean threw on his leather jacket and rushed out the door of Bobby's house, he couldn't help but notice the constriction of his chest, making it harder for him to breath. Nothing to be worried about, Dean thought. You're getting yourself worked up over nothing.
Dean flew to Cas's house loving the soothing rush of the wind against his face.
Quickly parking the Impala and rushing to the door, Dean rummaged through his keys trying to find the right one in the dim lighting. Just as he found the correct key he heard a crash from inside of the house. Smashing the key into the keyhole and slamming the door open he scrambled into the house and in a deep, bellowing voice yelled, "CAS!"
Another crash from the bedroom sounded to Dean's ears and he sprinted towards the room, only hearing the accompanying moans when it was too late.
Having thrown open the door to Cas's room, Dean could now see a pair of entwined bodies, sliding against each other. Upon hearing the clatter of the door, the two bodies pulled apart, exposing the naked forms for who they were.
"CROWLEY?!" Dean yelled in outrage and confusion. "Cas, really? Your 'bad boy' student, Crowley?!" His disapproving thoughts were clearly written across his face saying you'd really stoop down to Crowley's level?
Dean knew how ridiculous he sounded, and really how ridiculous the situation he was in was. The two other men were lying on the bed completely exposed and he was just screaming at them as if they were fully clothed and they weren't on Cas's bed, having sex.
"Dean, what the hell?" Cas yelled back. "I didn't ask you to come barging in on me, I don't want you here, and now you're going to judge me? That's… what did you call it again? Oh, yeah, class A douche bag material. Now get out, assbutt!" Cas had gotten up, nudity and all, and pushed Dean as hard as he could. Dean stumbled out of the room and had the bedroom door slammed in his face.
Fuming, Dean kicked a wall and started to stride out of the house. He had not even reached the front door when the disgusting moans of pleasure began again, fueling the flames in Dean's stomach and propelling him out of the door.
A few days came and went with Dean in a rotten mood, day in and day out, ignoring all of his family's calls. Finally, Sam barged into Dean's apartment and convinced him to stop vegging out on the couch and eat some dinner with the family.
Dean was sporadically eating meals with the family and he slowly started to clear his head each day. He finally called Cas a couple of weeks after the incident. Cas didn't pick up.
After waiting a few days without reply, Dean began to call Cas every day, the same time that Cas used to pick him up for lunch, leaving practically the same message each time.
"Cas…" Dean would pull the name out luxuriously every single time, following it with a deep breath. "I… you know that I never wanted to… to make you think that I would think that… you would need my permission to be with somebody. I… you know I want you to be happy…. I didn't mean to upset you. I miss you Cas. Just please. Please. Call me?" Dean would whisper the end of the message, seeming to beg Cas to speak with him.
Dean missed the stories, and the laughs, and the feeling of freedom he had had with Cas. He had never had that before, so… unwavering. Even with Lisa, he had always felt the need to hold back part of who he was. Cas, on the other hand, was special.
When Dean wasn't sleeping or working, he spent his free time watching television, hanging out with Sammy, and messing around with junk cars at Bobby's shop.
One day after a few weeks had passed, Dean never having heard from Cas, he decided to stop calling. That day at lunch, he did not call as he had grown used to in that short time. He thought to himself what's the point? He obviously doesn't even think about me anymore… The tight feeling he had felt in his chest all those nights ago returned, causing his breath to catch in his chest. A single tear escaped his left eye, which he quickly wiped away before any of the other workers could see, not because he thought it unmanly but because he was ashamed to have cared so much.
Dean decided to work late that night, unable to stifle the pain that had stuck with him since lunch.
Bobby was the last one to leave that night. With his hand holding the back door open, Bobby said, "I know you've been down lately, Dean, but remember to let yourself move on. I know Cas was important to you, but you've got to let the past be the past." Dean let a sad excuse for a smile spread across his lips, not quite reaching his eyes. Bobby returned the look, said goodnight, and closed the door behind him.
It was midnight when the sound of someone knocking on the front door vibrated through shop. The clink of Dean's tools against metal paused as he listened for another sound.
Knock, knock. Dean couldn't deny the persistent sound coming from the entrance of the shop. Putting his tools down and wiping his hands on a rag, Dean glided over to the door, speech already made up in his head telling the customer to come back in the morning.
Dean pulled the door open letting the dark figure enter the shop. Only then did he recognize the trench coat cloaking the man who smelt of cold air.
"Cas?" Dean's surprise caused his voice to break as he breathed out the name.
"Dean… I knew I would find you here," Cas said still clutching his coat tightly around his lean frame.
"How?" Dean asked. Seeing Cas and hearing his deep, warm voice after so much time apart had sent his heart flying.
"I went to your place first, didn't see the Impala and this place was my second guess," Cas sheepishly replied, the awkward look not fitting his handsome face.
"Oh, I…" Dean said in return when he suddenly snapped back to reality. "What are you even doing here? You never replied to any of my calls. Never contacted me in any way, shape, or form. I don't understand why you're here." Dean was completely dumbfounded; the minute he decided to stop trying, Cas came back. It made no sense at all.
"You…" Cas took a breath. "You stopped… calling…."
"Only just today," Dean said.
"But, you were calling and then you just stopped. I didn't know what to think when I got home and your voice wasn't waiting for me on the answering machine." The words flew out of Cas's mouth in a rush, a blush following quickly behind. "I see you're fine, though. Perfectly fine… without me. I just… I shouldn't have come I'm sorry. It was stupid. I've been a terrible assbutt to you and then I come here expecting a reunion of some sorts with you and I… I don't know what I was thinking."
Just as Cas was turning away Dean caught his arm and pulled Cas back towards him as if personal space were not a thing.
"Are you still… doing things… with Crowley?" Dean asked with his heart in his eyes.
"No, that was the first and last time… I'm sorry that I did that to you. Especially how I didn't even wait until you were gone to… continue…" Cas ducked his head in shame.
"Yeah…" Dean was looking down at the head, so close to his now, a fire starting in his stomach. Butterflies, he realized. He chuckled causing Cas to raise his head with a confused look on his face.
"Come here," Dean pulled Cas into the tightest hug he could manage. "You're too precious for this world," Dean said, repeating something Sammy used to jokingly say to him.
Pulling away, the duo exchanged smiles and parted ways to their cars.
Dean was slipping into the Impala when he heard a grotesque crash from the street, the view of which was blocked by the building. Dean, leaving the keys in the Impala, rushed to the front of the shop to see the cause of the horrible noise.
Everything felt like a blur.
His heart racing in his ears. A bellowing scream leaving his throat. A bloody Cas sitting limp at the wheel of his Prius. A completely totaled truck upside down and smoking on the sidewalk.
The sound of sirens breaking the peace of the night.
The unnatural smell of the hospital. The cruel coldness of the morgue.
A grief-ridden funeral.
A broken heart. An unspoken profession of love.
