A/N: My sincerest apologies for the delay in updating. This chapter had been sitting on my laptop, virtually done, but I just didn't find the time to finish it till now. I hope it was worth the wait. And as it did ended up longer than anticipated, there will now be an epilogue.
Chapter 3
Of course, Cas didn't text back. He didn't show up at Dean's apartment, or at the restaurant, despite Dean having begged him via voicemail to just come and talk to him. There was no sign of life from the man in any shape or form. His phone went straight to voicemail every single time Dean tried. By the evening he was at his wits end. Bobby actually sent him home early from work because according to him Dean 'couldn't get his head out of his ass' long enough to actually focus on work. Not that Dean could blame him; he had his phone in his hands more often than any of the actual tools. Bobby had offered a bottle of beer and a listening ear but Dean would rather die than to admit to his father figure what an extreme dick he had been.
At his evening job he was close to giving Ash a decking when his friend wouldn't let up on the bet and the money. So what that Dean hadn't texted him back with any 'progress' updates. He just wanted to forget this whole sordid bet ever happened in the first place. Still, when Ash didn't get the idea of just letting it the fuck rest, Dean all but screamed at him, using his break to storm across the street to the atm and then throwing the fucking 200 bucks in his face. He snapped at him to enjoy his victory and that he was done with this juvenile shit. Ash was gloating about the fall of the 'mighty Dean Winchester'. Dean did shove him then, not that Ash really deserved it, after all he didn't know about Dean's complicated emotional status right now. He just wasn't in the mood telling his friend the whole story so telling him to 'fuck off' seemed like the more viable option.
That in turn let to a severe telling off by Crowley, who made it very clear that such behavior would not be tolerated in a 'high class establishment' like his was. Dean was tempted to laugh in the British midget's face but managed to swallow it down. He needed this job and therefore needed to keep his trap shut, as much as it pained him.
After work, and still no calls later, he even went to Cas' apartment. But there was no answer and although Dean must have waited half the night, freezing his balls off in his car, Cas had been a no show. It was like the man never existed. He placed a note through the letterbox, yet again begging for a chance to explain, before driving home and using what was left of the night to get shit-faced.
He might have actually drunk dialed his brother as at about 10am there was an insistent knocking at the door, accompanied with the all too familiar "Open the door, jerk."
Dean rolled off the sofa, empty bottle of whiskey still clutched to his chest, and for a second considered whether he needed to go and throw up first, before crawling to the door. Shit, he hadn't been this hung-over in a very, very long time. And all over some guy! Some amazing, funny, weird guy with blue eyes and- Dean's stomach lurched as he opened the door.
"You look like crap."
"Hello to you too Sammy." Dean groaned before finally his stomach decided it didn't want to hold on to the alcohol any longer and he legged it to the bathroom just in time to throw up.
Sam rolled his eyes. Dean knew he hated being called 'Sammy', but he let it slip this time. It appeared like his brother was suffering quite enough already. Sam had no idea what he had gotten himself into this time, but it had been a while since Dean had called him at 5am, not making a lick of sense, talking about some guy called 'Castiel' and some bet and Sam could only assume that he somehow managed to gamble away his months earnings or worse.
Knowing how careless and self-destructive his brother was at the best of times and also because Sam really owed him a lot, with the way Dean supported him financially through his studies, he thought he better check up on him, bring some painkillers and if need be give him a kick up the ass.
Half an hour later, Dean was back on the sofa, eyes closed, as it was way too bright in this room, and waiting for the painkillers to kick in. He could feel his brother's glare on him. He didn't need to look at him to know he probably was wearing one of his trade mark bitch faces.
"So," Sam's voice boomed through the room.
"Noise, man, too much noise." Dean whimpered.
"Suck it up. What I want to know is what you gotten yourself into this time."
"Nothing." Dean whined, pressing his index fingers into his temples.
"Yeah right." Sam snorted, rolling his eyes.
Dean grunted and flipped him the bird.
"Ok, let's start at the beginning. Who's this Castiel dude?"
Dean groaned. Why had his drunken ass self thought it a good idea to call his brother? The last thing he wanted to do was to tell his well adjusted, well behaved and very mature kid brother what a jerk he had been. More precisely how he had tried to get into the pants of some virtuous religious, albeit hot, dude, just because he thought he could. And what he wanted to tell him even less was how he, Dean 'I don't do attachments' Winchester, had actually fallen for the guy and managed to ruin it all in one go. God, he felt like throwing up again.
"Deeean! What did you do?"
Dean swallowed back the bile, a new wave of nausea hitting him. "I, shit, Sammy, I'm the world's biggest jerk."
"You think?"
Twenty minutes, and a wide variety of Sam's judgmental faces, later, Dean finally finished telling the whole sorry tale.
"Dean, you're now officially the biggest ass I know. You really surpassed yourself this time."
"Sugarcoat it for me, won't you Sammy." Dean grumbled. Not that he didn't know that already.
"I honestly am lost for words, and bearing in mind I am training to be a lawyer, that is saying something."
Sam glared at Dean, but suddenly couldn't help feel sorry for his brother. God knows for years he had begged, implored and whined at his brother to find someone to settle down with. He hated the idea of Dean all on his own, trying to find company in random hook-ups and quick shags. Sam knew Dean had issues as long as his arms he didn't want to address, all based around low self-esteem and abandonment issues but Dean, master of suppression, would never admit to them. This made it even more remarkable that Dean had opened up to someone else. Somehow this Castiel dude had managed to get under his brother's skin, break through the defenses and make Dean care, only for his brother to piss it all away because he apparently was still some immature imbecile who thought behaving like a teenager was acceptable.
"Dean you idiot." He huffed again. "You better try to find a way to fix this, or at the very least apologize to this Castiel."
"I tried, ok. He just keeps ignoring my calls. He obviously doesn't want anything to do with me. And can you blame him?" Dean snapped.
"So, what, you called him a few times, swung by his house and now what? You're just giving up?"
"What else can I do? Probably he will be better off without me anyway."
Sam grunted. "Dean, I love you but sometimes I could just punch you in the face. Yes you've behaved like a jerk and no one deserves to be treated like that. But also I know you, and you don't normally let anyone get this close, affect you like this. This guy obviously must be someone special. So for the love of god, stop moping and get your act together. Figure something out! Isn't he worth the risk?"
Dean dwelled on that for a long time. His normal MO would be to give up and move on. After all there were plenty of fish left in the sea. But none of those fish were Cas. Cas was different, managed to make him laugh, to actually want a kind of life he so far had only sneered at. And fuck, his brother was right. He had to try to get through to him. But in order to do so he would first need to find the man. There was one last place Dean could think off where he might be able to run into him.
#
"Castiel, come on, you've been on this couch non-stop for the last four days. I'm fearful I might have to extract you surgically from it if you don't get your lazy ass up any time soon."
"Leave me alone, Gabe."
"No, you're done moping! And gimme that bottle. I never had you down as the kind of guy to drown his sorrows with alcohol. Something else you picked up from that Dean?"
Castiel near flung the bottle at his brother. "No, I can manage to get drunk all by myself, believe it or not," he snarled.
"Easy there bro." Gabriel snatched the bottle and set a big glass of water in front of Castiel. "I get it, this Dean guy really did a number on you, I really do. But- you know it takes two to tango, right?" Castiel glared at him like he was going to try and smite him by his willpower alone.
Gabriel cleared his throat. "What I mean is that despite the charade, you were actually willing to throw away your whole belief system after what, knowing the guy for less than a week? Castiel, that part was all you despite whether anything else was real and that is not the brother I know."
"I don't need reminding of that." Castiel buried his head in his hands and groaned in frustration. "I was stupid and impulsive. Still, I would not have done so if I hadn't been fooled into thinking it to be a relationship of substance."
"God Castiel I can sympathize." Gabriel smiled sadly at his brother, still angry on his behalf and wanting to give this Dean a piece of his mind. "And my offer to pay the guy a 'visit' still stands."
"And I told you before you wouldn't stand a chance against him. Sorry Gabe but god's gift to fighting you're not."
"I can try, also there are other, more creative, ways of getting even." He added with a smirk. "But regardless, by hiding yourself away like this, you basically let him win. Let him still have power over you. You need to make up your mind what you want to do. You are stronger than this."
"What would you have me do?"
"Well, for one, go back to work. Even the average 'flu' will only keep you from work for so long before your employers will start asking questions."
Castiel humphed, of course he knew he couldn't hide way here forever, but he had never taken a sick day until now so work could just suck it up until he was feeling better.
"Don't humph at me. You know I'm right. And then, if it was me, I would give this Dean a piece of my mind. I know that's not normally you, Mr. Second Chances, but people like that need to learn they can't just stamp all over someone's feelings."
Castiel gulped. He didn't think he could stomach facing Dean again, not yet. He couldn't even get himself to delete those voice messages Dean had left. He knew he should but for some reason he hadn't. And he really should hate the guy, but mostly he just felt stupid, oh so stupid, and hurt of course. It had all felt so real, and a small voice inside his head was still trying to find excuses, looking for reasons, explanations, for a small hint that not all of it had been a lie. He was desperate to hear some kind of validation in the voice of Dean that what they had was real, maybe that was why he hadn't deleted the messages yet. Dean sounded honest to god distressed and Castiel had listened to the messages more times than could be considered healthy.
"Gabe, you don't understand, it-, I feel so stupid and- and yet, I miss him" There he said it, and god damn him it was the truth. How could he still miss the person that had betrayed him on such a basic level? "I don't know what would happen if I saw him again. I really thought I found something there."
Gabriel gave his brothers shoulder a supportive squeeze. "Ok, so maybe no face to face just yet. But still, you will need to find a way to move on. So I'm going to do you a favor. This is the last night I let you wallow on my couch. Tomorrow I expect your sorry ass back at work. And we're gonna take it from there."
Castiel grumbled something that could have been agreement or discontent but deep down knew his brother was right. He had to be done moping and get his life back under control. Dean had been a pipe dream and maybe one day he would be brave enough to tell him just what a jerk he had been.
#
There was one last place Dean hoped to run into Cas and that was how he ended up going to Group on Monday evening. Everyone was so happy to see him again and made him feel welcome, it almost made Dean cry. God, he really was messed up but fuck, he didn't deserve their kindness. If they knew what he had done, Dean was sure they would kick his sorry as from here into next week. It was one thing talking about all this forgiveness crap but reality was a different beast. At the same time it kind of was his last hope, that Cas would find it within him to forgive Dean for what he had done, at the very least hear him out.
So he stayed and he smiled and even attempted small talk, all the while eyeing the door, heart getting heavier as time passed and there was no sign of Cas. No one had heard from him and when the meeting eventually came to a close, he still hadn't showed. Instead Dean had a handful of pamphlets and phone numbers in his hand, and offers of help on his 'journey'. He clutched those things in his hand as he made his way back to the car. Dean couldn't help but be worried. He really had thought if anything Cas would come here, to his place of support, to his friends. Cas didn't seem the type but what if he hurt himself? What if Dean's reckless behavior had pushed him over some kind of edge? After all, the man almost threw away everything he held dear. Dean had no idea what that might do to someone like Castiel. Or maybe he uprooted and moved away. How well did he really know the man after one week?
It appeared that life wouldn't allow him this one chance at trying to put things right. And he hated that he had turned into this needy, whiney, pathetic excuse for a man. He knew there was a reason why he didn't do feelings and attachments. They always get you hurt. Now all he had was some memories and an empty apartment. At least the bottle was keeping him company, not judging him and helping him to forget at night.
When Dean couldn't take the silence of his apartment any longer he shoved some clothes in a duffle bag and headed for his brother's apartment that he shared with two other guys, where he spent the next week moping on his rather small and crappy couch. His bastard brother (rightfully) bitched him out on a regular basis for being such an immature prick and to get his act together and find this Castiel. But he let him stay, leaving painkillers and water out for him in the morning, and Dean was very grateful for that.
People at work noticed but he didn't fucking care. Ash continued to gloat for all but two days about his victory before realizing Dean was being more of a moody prick than usual and that there was more to the story than he would let on. He offered to buy Dean and drink (or two) after work and forced him to spill, which Dean, to his own surprise, did. It just felt good getting this off his chest. Ash cuffed him round the head, chastising him for being such an idiot and keeping this from him. He, of course, would have waived the bet. Dean Winchester seriously interested in someone was virtually unheard of and in the end he wanted him to be happy. He told him to get his shit together and grovel to the guy until judgment day if that was what it would take to get him back.
It took Dean two weeks, and numerous ribbings from his brother and friend, to work up the courage to give it one last try. He showed up at Cas' apartment one evening but Cas was out. Of fucking course. But the name on the apartment still read C. Novak, so Dean assumed he was still living there. He made himself comfortable on the floor and waited.
#
Castiel had spent the majority of the last two weeks beating himself up for how stupid and trusting he had been, interspersed with missing Dean, hating Dean and missing him some more. He still hadn't deleted those voicemails and more than once was tempted to call, but thankfully his pride stopped him. At least he went back to work but other than that he pretty much turned into a hermit, the occasional being dragged out by Gabe aside.
Most of his evenings were spent thinking and grousing. His faith and convictions, as well as his pride, were in crisis. Castiel just didn't really know what to believe anymore. Maybe sometimes a cover was all that you could judge a book by. Clearly his first impression of Dean had been the correct one, and maybe some people just weren't ever able to be more or to change their ways. Castiel wanted to go and punch him so many times he lost count. He had a very hard time holding on to his philosophy of forgiveness. He hadn't even been able to go to his group and ignored his friends' calls. He was simply too ashamed. And it wasn't the fact that he fell for a guy, he would have been able to justify that, but the righteous indignation and rage he felt was so alien to him, so far from everything he had always upheld, he couldn't face people while feeling like this.
On top of it all he must be a frigging masochist for still missing the guy. During long and sleepless nights he had a hard time ignoring all those good memories of their shared time together, Dean's brazen but funny nature, the way he made Castiel smile and come out of his shell, until he reminded himself that those memories were all fake. How Dean acted had all been part of this ploy to make Castiel fall for him. He just wanted to forget the man ever existed and go back to the way his life used to be.
And over time it seemed to be getting easier, only the occasional thought of the man slipping in as Castiel threw himself into his work. And the burden he carried around was slowly starting to lift. But of course that was when he saw the black car parked outside his apartment building when he got home from work and his world came crashing down again.
Castiel's body tensed and he couldn't breathe. He could feel the rage he had thought he'd let go off rush back to the surface full force. His first instinct was to just leave, to run, but this was his home and he wouldn't take this lying down. He had been hiding away from this for too long. He couldn't live forever in fear of running into the man and what might happen. But he had some nerve showing up here.
He stormed up the two flights of stairs to his apartment and then he saw him. Dean was sat on the floor, leaning against his door.
When he noticed Cas he jumped to his feet.
"Cas-" was all he was able to say before he felt Castiel's knuckles connect with his jaw.
"Ouch," Castiel groaned, shaking out his fist. Hitting someone frigging hurt.
Dean rubbed his sore jaw. The guy knew how to throw a good punch. He never had Cas down for that.
"Guess I deserved that." he stated, looking at Cas, feeling his heart speed up. God, he missed him.
"Dean, just leave."
"Cas please- I just need to talk to you, please." Dean implored.
"There's nothing you could possibly say to me." Castiel stated coldly, despite his hear hammering in his chest.
"Please, I know what this looks like and, I just need five minutes to explain."
"I said NO!" the blue eyed man yelled, opening the door to his apartment.
"Fine, I'll just wait here until you will listen to me." Dean said slumping back down to the floor.
"Suit yourself," Castiel grumbled before he slammed the door shut. He leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily. He could not do this. He wanted nothing more than go out there and shout at Dean. Tell him once and for all how what he had done to him made him feel. And then ask him to just go and never come back. But he couldn't even move, let alone string a coherent sentence together. Because out there was Dean, and most of all Castiel wanted to ask him whether any of it had been real. But he was scared of the answer.
He took to pacing the apartment, the possible presence of Dean outside his front door burning in the back of his skull. Castiel tried to ignore it and go about his business, preparing some food he knew he most likely wouldn't eat. He eventually settled for a glass of wine and sitting on the couch, staring at the blank wall, while Dean was haunting his thoughts.
After about an hour and a half he couldn't take it anymore. He had to know whether the man made good on his threat and planted himself outside his front door or whether he had given up and went home. He opened the door and was immediately met with green eyes staring up at him from his spot on the floor.
"Dean," Cas sighed exasperated.
"Cas, I-"
"Please just go home."
"No. Cas please, I'm begging you here. If anything, anything of what we've been through together meant anything to you, you please let me explain."
"Meant anything?" Castiel spat out. "That is rich coming from you! Was any of it real? Or was it all just one sick joke?" he thundered.
"Of course it was real." Dean protested, finally getting up on his feet, giving him a slight advantage in height. He was rewarded with an ice cold stare and Cas taking a step back.
Dean held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I mean- at first no, but damn Cas, I never felt what I feel for you for anyone. I didn't even know it was possible. Please, I'm begging you, five minutes and then if you want me gone I promise I will leave you alone. And I'd rather not do this out here for everyone to hear but I will if you-"
"Fine." Cas knew he shouldn't. Knew he should just shut the door in the other man's face, but he also wanted answers, if only to be able to move on. Because whether he liked it or not, Dean still was under his skin.
"Ok, five minutes and then I want you gone," he gritted out, motioning for Dean to follow him inside.
They sat down on opposite sides of the kitchen table. Dean remembered the apartment all too well. Recalled that first afternoon, when all he had wanted was to get into Cas' pants. He cringed at the memory and some of the stuff he had said.
"Why?" Castiel started before Dean could find the right words to explain himself, to beg for forgiveness. No matter how many times he had rehearsed this in his head, he now couldn't get himself to talk.
"Was it just for fun? A nice challenge to get to bed the stupid, naïve, virgin? Do people really mean that little to you that you can just use them for you twisted form of entertainment? Have you got no empathy whatsoever? And why me? Why not Anna then or one of the other people that night? What have I done to you?" He fired the questions too fast for Dean to answer, he knew that but he just needed to get it all out.
"Cas, I-"
"Castiel!" he corrected Dean.
"What?"
"My name, it is Castiel."
Dean flinched at that. Cas rejecting his pet name for him hurt more than all the other stuff he was throwing at him. It was something just between the two of them, but he nodded his head in understanding.
"Castiel," it sounded too formal and strange on his tongue. "You haven't done anything wrong. I, I know I'm an idiot, believe me. And yes, I was a dick, letting myself getting edged on into a stupid juvenile bet, not thinking about the other person involved. Frankly, I'm not a nice person. And quite possibly you will be better off without me but man, I have to at least try. I- you make me feel things I never felt for anyone else and I know you feel them too. I can understand that you hate me right now, but- I want to make this right. I got to know you and I respect what you and your friends are trying to do with your lives-"
Cas rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, that really means a lot to me!"
"No, really I do. And from about the second time we met it had never been about this stupid bet anymore."
"So why didn't you end it then, before, you know?" Castiel said, sounding bitter. "Why keep on going, letting your friend believe you're still in it. God, I can only image the way you bragged about how you managed to wrap the stupid virgin round your finger."
"I don't know why I didn't just call it quits, ok. I really don't. I wanted to, that evening you came over I already made up my mind to tell Ash the bet was off. Then things just happened too fast and I was happy and you were there, and I wasn't even thinking about it anymore until- that stupid text came."
"And that should make me feel better?"
"No, it's just, that's how it was. No point in telling you something just to make it sound less shitty." Dean gulped at that. "I mean, uh- the truth now, ok. I am telling it like it was. The more time I spent with you, the more I got to like you and the more I understood what you told me that first afternoon, about how much more this all means when you get to know someone first. Castiel, I never had a proper relationship. I had no point of reference. I didn't really know what was happening between us. Look, I'm emotionally constipated to put it bluntly, my brother reminds me of that often enough, and-"
"Dean, that doesn't excuse what-" Castiel had his hands clenched into fists now to stop him from shaking. He wanted to believe Dean, he really did but logic told him not to be that gullible again.
"I know, I know, that doesn't excuse my actions. But you have to believe me, you and me, it was real. It started on a false premise but it was real! I should have told Ash straight away this whole thing was off, I just thought I get around to it, damn it Castiel." Dean said exasperated by the still cold glare he received from the other man. He sighed.
"If it really was just about the fucking bet I could have done it, could have boned you that Thursday night, you know that." Dean looked at Castiel who averted his gaze, blushing slightly at the memory. "But I just couldn't because you are important to me and what you care about I started to care about. I have never felt like this about anyone and I know you will find it hard to believe me-"
"How could I ever believe anything that comes out of your mouth, Dean? How do I even know what you're telling me now is not just some shit you're feeding me to, as you so eloquently put it, 'bone' me after all." Castiel snapped, angry at himself, at Dean, at the world in general.
"I know there is no reason for you to believe me but it's the truth. What I said that night is how I feel about you. I want to treat you right, to court you, to even send you fucking flowers and-"
"Dean, please-" Castiel implored. Memories of that night, and how good it had felt being curled up next to the man, laughing and seemingly not having a care in the world, were clouding his judgment. Despite all this mess he missed Dean and he could feel his resolve crumble. Dean sounded so sincere but then, so he had in the past when all he'd done was feed him a bunch of lies. But would Dean really be so desperate to go through all this groveling just to bed him after all? Castiel knew he wasn't anything special. The other man could get his kicks anywhere he wanted to. But he was not ready to get hurt again. He had to stop this now before he couldn't anymore.
"Dean, I think you need to leave now." His voice was shaking as he spoke.
"Castiel, don't." Dean pleaded. "Please, just tell me what it takes to make this right. Please. I'm literally begging you here. I'm not too proud to get on my knees for you. Just give me something, anything, please." And he actually sank to the floor in front of Cas, feeling very foolish in doing so but to hell with it.
They both sat in silence for a long time. Castiel glancing at Dean, knelt in front of him, intermittently. The guy made no indication of getting up from that position but remained there, glancing up at him. And Castiel felt something tugging inside of him. Proud Dean Winchester on his knees before him, it was actually a sight to behold. He rolled the whole situation around in his head. The only thing that stopped him from throwing Dean out was the knowledge that he was stating the truth. He could have just taken what he wanted that night and yet he hadn't. Castiel had been prepared to give him everything and more and despite that, Dean had stopped, had cared for what he knew to be very important to him. Still, would that small fleck of light be enough to build a relationship on, let alone one that could last?
"I don't know if I could ever trust you again." Castiel was the first one to break the silence, the shaky voice resembling the war that was still going on inside of him.
Dean's head shot up, looking at the man, meeting his eyes, eyes that still were full of hurt. Dean swallowed back the lump in his throat. He tentatively took one of Castiel's hands in his own, and was relieved when he didn't retract his hand.
"Then let me prove it to you. Let me regain your trust."
"Dean, I-"
"Cas- Castiel, please. Let me make this right, or at leas try. On your terms, whatever you are or are not comfortable with, just don't- I don't want to lose you."
And Dean sounded so raw and genuine, so much more so than Castiel had ever heard him. There was none of his usual playfulness or bravado left in his voice, and he could feel himself falter.
"My terms?" Castiel asked, staring at Dean.
"Yes, whatever you want or don't want."
Castiel thought about this for a long time.
"Even if I tell you to leave?" He asked in a near whisper.
Dean's face fell, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Yes," he replied, letting go off Cas' hand. If Cas really wanted him to go, thought there was nothing left to fight for, he would have to respect that.
And somehow it was that small 'yes' that helped Castiel make up his mind. Dean, apparently true to his word, would leave if that was what he wanted of him. Just Castiel realized at that point he did not want him to go. He had no idea precisely what he wanted but he had an inkling what he wanted might involve Dean.
"I would want us to see someone. My pastor or a counselor. I would need to find a way to trust you again. And I don't know how to do that right now."
Dean had been mentally prepared to get up and leave so Castiel's words hit him out of the blue. His head snapped up, making sure he had heard the man correctly. "Ok, yes, of course." Dean agreed quickly, grabbing hold of Cas' hand again. He would go and talk about his fucking feelings and what an ass he was, if it helped regain the man's trust.
"You would have to be ok with not having sex with me while we work things out and see if we can make this work. I want to hold on to my beliefs, despite- what almost happened. Probably even more so because of it. If you cannot do that, please tell me now."
"I- yes, yes I can do that. No sex, how hard can it be, right? I want to do this properly this time. I even come to your fucking group with you if you want me to." Cas smiled at that. The first smile Dean had seen on the man's face all evening. And it made his stomach flutter. The light seemed to be back in his eyes.
"Ok, let's start there then. Monday evening, you and I will attend group and we take it from there. Maybe have a sit down with the leader after."
"Yes," Dean sighed relieved, and he was sure he saw another small smile flicker across Cas' face.
"Thanks Castiel." He felt like getting up and hugging him but it was Cas' terms and Dean was going to respect this. Instead he gave his hand a small squeeze and his heart warmed when he squeezed back.
"Dean."
"Yes?"
"You can call me Cas, if you want." Their eyes met and Dean was so happy he could feel his eyes water. Things might just work themselves out.
"Cas," he repeated almost reverently, smiling up at the blue eyed man.
"Can I- God Cas, I would like to kiss you now but you know, your terms." Dean stayed where he was, suddenly conscious he was still on the floor, kneeling in front of Cas, but not giving a damn.
Castiel looked pensive for a moment before gently tugging Dean by the arms. "I would like that," he smiled, cupping Dean's jaw with his hands and leaning down to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.
Dean hummed into the kiss, he was just so glad to be allowed to have this again. It felt like finally coming home. He held himself back, letting Cas dictate the speed and intensity of the kiss. It was gentle and full of promise of things that might be to come and Dean for the first time in weeks felt, really believed, that this could work, that they might be able to get past this and get back to what they had, and maybe even more. He sure would die trying rather than to give up again.
