"I love you, Dean," Cas tells him on their third date. They're in a quaint little Italian down the road from their apartment and Cas has red-tinted lips from wine and tomato passata. Dean can't quite say it back.

"Love you," he manages one night into the back of Cas' head as they settle down to fall asleep. Cas freezes, then takes Dean's hand where it's resting on his bare side and interlinks their fingers.

"I know," he says with a smile in his voice and Dean nips the nape of his neck affectionately.

"Jerk."

"Yeah. But you love me anyway."

"Mmm. I guess I do."

"Good. Because I love you, too."

"What if you're wrong?"

"What?" Cas pushes himself up onto an elbow and turns, fixing Dean with a puzzled frown. "What do you mean?"

"What if you're wrong," he repeats quietly, not meeting the piercing blue eyes, ashamed of his insecurities. "And you don't. If it's just lust. Or whatever."

"Dean," Cas tilts his chin and forces their eyes to meet. "I'm not wrong. And it isn't lust, I know the difference. It's you that I've fallen for, everything about you. You're brave, strong, handsome, kinda funny sometimes…"

"Shut up," Dean smiles and blinks away tears. "You're embarrassing."

"So?" Cas kisses him sweetly on the mouth. He's grown to love Cas' kisses and craves them like oxygen. "I'm right."

"Whatever," he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, but inside he's glowing. "Go to sleep, jerk."

"Please believe me, Dean," Cas says as he settles back down, the little spoon with Dean curled at his back. "You're worth loving."

And it's those three words that make him choke up and they don't end up sleeping much that night.

There's a fine line between love and hate, and Dean walks down it every day. He both loves and hates his freedom the same way he loves and hates himself. On the good days, Cas is there with warm smiles and laughter and an endless list of things for them to do to help him build his confidence and settle back into his life. But the thing that shocks Dean the most is that on the bad days? Cas is still there. But with warm embraces, gentle touches, holding his hands or holding him back when he tries to regress towards his past behaviour. Cas never leaves. His love for Dean is unwavering and pure in its intensity, and it's both overwhelming and exactly what he needs always.

They don't have sex often. Cas is more interested in snuggling down with Dean under piles of blankets and kissing him for hours, and Dean finds he prefers the low intimacy of lying naked in Cas' embrace, exploring his mouth with sweet kisses and tracing the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, wondering if he will ever laugh enough to get lines like that too. Their first time had been wonderful, Cas moving gently on top of him and moaning softly, and Dean loved every moment of it. Cas is beautiful, and the extraordinary thing is that he seems to find Dean beautiful too, scars and all. Their bodies fit perfectly together and soon they're sleeping in Cas' room most nights, nude beneath the covers and pressed really close. They cuddle a lot outside of the bedroom, too. That took some getting used to on Sam's part, and Dean overheard more than one furious fight where Sam threatened Cas with physical harm should he ever do anything to hurt Dean. Cas had coolly held his own and spouted Sam's words back at him with a side order of reassurance that his feelings for Dean are strong and unwavering - Dean always comes out of the bedroom at that point to stare and smile and slip his hand into Cas'. Sam rolls his eyes but smiles, happy for them and happy that his brother is finding some sense of normalcy.

Sam is difficult to navigate around, but eventually Dean manages. The awkwardness falls away and their relationship progresses through difficult to relaxed and brotherly. Sam fusses him like a mother hen and seems to have no intention of stopping anytime soon, but Dean can cope with that. He would rather have a little fuss from his brother than no relationship at all. They have beer and pizza nights on the regular while Cas studies late or attends extra-credit lectures (Dean teases him mercilessly for being such a nerd) and they slowly start doing things together like heading out to watch a baseball game or to drink beer down at The Roadhouse, Sam's local, where the bartenders are both blonde and pretty and the older one, Jess, clearly has eyes for his Sasquatch of a brother. Dean always smirks into his beer and waits, silently betting against himself on who will make the first move. A month down the line and it's Cas who eventually rolls his eyes and swipes Jess' phone, typing in Sam's number then heading for the pool table like nothing had happened. Dean guffaws and follows him, leaving his brother pink-cheeked and stammering with Jess grinning across the bar at him.

"Matchmaker," Dean whispers into Cas' hair as he racks up the balls. Cas smirks, twists his head for a sideways kiss, then pockets four balls in one as he breaks. Dean, appalled, spends the next half hour unsuccessfully trying to beat his boyfriend at pool and only conceding when Cas promises to let him win in exchange for a kiss. Dean kisses him, and Cas still wins.

But it's always Dean who feels like the winner. He's made it, made it out in the world and he's even found someone to be with, someone who's love is unconditional and fierce but not overpowering. Someone who accepts him, history and all, and who kisses his scars like an absolution. He still cuts when he has bad days, but Cas is there. He doesn't reprimand Dean for doing it, although he can't always hide the pain in his azure eyes as he bandages a wrist or a forearm and disposes of yet He's there to wipe the blood and hold Dean through his tremors, and it isn't long before a week goes past with no cutting. Then two. Then a month. Cas buys him an expensive leather cord bracelet to celebrate. And another at three months. At six, he takes Dean away for a weekend in the mountains and they barely leave the bedroom for lying nude together and exchanging sweet kisses and tender touches. A week later, Dean gets a job at a local garage, working three days a week, and comes into his element. Working with his hands is perfect for him, and the guys down there are really great. They never ask about his scars. And soon, Dean is able to go out for a drink with them without feeling awkward and like an outsider. Cas is thrilled for him, naturally, and Sam is cautious as always.

But Dean gets there. Soon almost a year has passed, and Sam is announcing that he's moving out. The secret little smile on Cas' lips hints that the decision wasn't entirely his own. Soon he's living alone with his boyfriend, holding down a steady job, and his relapses into depression are few and far-between. They come, of course, but Cas is there to guide him through them. And on the days that he isn't, when Dean's alone in the house, there's Sam on the end of the phone. Or, when Sam's busy and it's just him alone, there's the knowledge that he has them there and they believe in him. So when he's wiping away a streak of blood, he manages not to cut too deep or to do it for too long. He manages to stop.

He manages. And that's the best he can do right now. But with Cas and Sam at his side, he knows the day will come when he doesn't need to pick up a blade ever again. And when he tells this to Cas, the smile on his boyfriend's face is like seeing the face of an angel.