Author's note: Internalized homophobia and bad parenting (from John Winchester). References to physical abuse. Skip if this triggers you.
Not an Apple pie Life
Sometimes the two weren't on the same wave-length. Dean came in from a hunt to have Cas hanging all over him. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to shake him off. "God damn it, Cas! Get off of me!"
"Dean – I would thank you to leave my father out of this." His tone was stern, but he still eyed Dean lasciviously.
"Sam and I just bagged a Rugaru. All I need is to take a shower and pass out."
Cas got in close again, and began rubbing him over his jeans. He kissed Dean's neck and Dean sighed in spite of himself. "Look, I like you Cas, but not tonight. I'm sore and bloody. The last thing I want right now is to get down on my haunches while you finger me for an hour."
That finally seemed to do it; Cas apologized and backed off. When Dean crawled into his bed that night, Cas was already asleep, curled around a pillow that still smelled faintly like Dean. He pressed up against the former-angel's back, kissing an apology onto his neck. Sometimes, he just needed his space.
Other times, Dean was more receptive to Cas' attention. Occasionally, he even felt like sharing. "Cas, can I talk to you about something?"
"Of course, Dean. What's up?" Cas tried out the phrase, sounding incredibly awkward. But the look on his face was priceless, and Dean laughed, the knot of tension in his shoulders easing.
"I wanted to know if you knew the full extent you pulling me out of hell had on me… mentally."
"I knew you felt unworthy, but beyond that…" Cas just shrugged, his gaze fixed on Dean's.
"I'm telling you this so you can understand me, the things I've done, better. When you brought me back, I had all my memories from before. But everything else permanent – the mental blocks, the defense mechanisms – they were just gone. So what I'd done in the past… things I'd dealt with, or locked away, were back full-force. Sure, attaching 'love' to Sam or Bobby wasn't a hard concept, but all that horrible shit from my childhood had to be handled." He stopped to clear his throat. "I had to re-learn how to deal. That's why I spent so long feeling worthless and empty – the pain was just too great. In a way, you helped me. If I hadn't worked through my memories of dad's homophobic 'lessons', I would've believed it again. And I woulda never had the balls to imagine you might feel the same way about me."
Cas knew this sort of thing happened very rarely. He had to choose his words carefully: "When you say 'lessons,' what do you mean?"
"At first it was shitty comments about people being 'fags'. But then I got older, and he seemed driven to make sure we were men. Not just hunting but the drill sergeant thing; I called him 'sir', kept my hair short, didn't step a toe out of line. I did everything he told me, because 'in the hunter's world, there's no room for pretty boys.' Right before Sam left for college, he tried to do the same thing to him: he actually shaved his head while he was sleeping, and yelled when Sam would act 'too touchy'." He smiled at the memory of his cue-ball brother; Sam looked hilarious without hair.
"Not that I'd ever admit it to him, but Sam got off kinda easy; one impromptu haircut and screaming matches didn't really justify their grudge to me. But uh… after Sammy left, it got worse: sure, he'd been smacking me around for acting up since I was sixteen – I was used to that. But then the 'intensive training' started. He taught me how to resist water-boarding, how to fight in sensory deprivation conditions, and how to track basically everything. I'm not sayin' it wasn't useful or that I didn't need to know it. But just like they do in the military, he 'broke' me. And when he built me back up into a soldier, he forgot that element of care. He always said actions spoke louder than words, but he still told Sam he loved him. I… never got that." Dean's eyes were glassy and his jaw trembled, but he held Castiel's gaze.
Cas reached out and drew him in for a hug. They sat there just clinging to each other for a long time, Cas' stubbled jaw against his shoulder somehow grounding him. Eventually, they pulled apart.
"Thank you, Dean." For telling me this, for trusting me.
They joined hands and walked to the bedroom in a comfortable silence.
