Castiel likes his coffee extra strong, with just a splash of milk. And he likes his waffles with honey, not syrup. Dean has no idea how he knows all of this, but his hands seem pretty damn confident in what they're doing, so he decides not to question it. All in all, it smells great, so he takes that as a good sign. He stacks three perfectly square waffles onto a plate (with an artistic drizzling of honey) and carefully places them onto a breakfast tray next to the steaming mug of coffee. It looks like a fucking Instagram post, which makes him feel weirdly proud of himself.
For the first time in weeks, it's raining outside. But it's not proper rain; it's that annoying, spitty kind of rain that gets in your eyes and speckles your clothes with thousands of tiny, dark spots. Dean can't think of a more appropriate setting for the conversation that's about to take place.
Castiel is slumped over his bag, with his trenchcoat pulled over his head to fend off the rain. For some reason, he looks adorable. But now isn't the time to get distracted by Castiel's inherent cuteness, so Dean shields the breakfast tray with his jacket and sprints over to the tree (again, forgetting to look both ways before crossing the road).
"Uh… Hey, buddy!" he says once he's reached the relative shelter of the tree's overhanging leaves. "I brought you some breakfast. Thought you might be hungry – big day and all."
Castiel peeks out from under his coat, his eyes blazing. "Did you just call me buddy?" he asks.
Dean winces. "Oh. Right. Um, my bad."
"Leave me alone, Dean."
"C'mon, man! I gave you some space last night, but now we've gotta talk. This is kind of a big deal, you know?"
"Oh, trust me. I know."
"I really didn't mean to hurt you, Cas."
"Then why did you reject me?"
"B-Because –"
"Even though you supposedly return my feelings, you still turned me away. You made me feel ridiculous, Dean. It was bad enough going through this as a child, but now? While I'm at my most vulnerable?" He slumps back against the trunk of the tree, his coat slipping off his head. "You lead me to believe you were ready for something more than friendship. I've spent the whole night thinking this through, and I know I didn't imagine that. So, why did you give me false hope? Why not keep on ignoring me?"
Dean bites his bottom lip. "I told you, Cas. You're under my skin. I couldn't let you go through this alone."
"It would have been easier. And fairer."
"I didn't know this would happen."
"That I would kiss you?" Castiel scoffs. "I've done it in the past; it shouldn't surprise you."
"I thought you'd be over me by now – especially after all the crap I put you through."
"Stop being so obtuse, Dean."
"Whaddya mean?"
Castiel shoots him a hard look, like he shouldn't have to be explaining himself. "I've been in love with you since we were eight years old," he says. "Ever since you pushed Meg Masters in the mud for pulling my hair in 3rd grade. Did you really think it would be that simple to just 'get over you?'"
Dean balks. "I-In love? Cas, I didn't –"
"It's okay that you don't feel the same way," Castiel interjects. His voice is calm on the surface, but Dean can hear the bitterness lying beneath his nonchalant façade. "Maybe you did at some point – maybe you think you still do – but I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that if you truly returned my feelings, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Cas, I… I told you why we can't be together. It's got nothing to do with you, man. You're awesome! Perfect, even, and I… How the hell am I supposed to keep up with that, huh?"
Castiel rolls his eyes so hard, Dean worries he might burst something.
"Do you really expect me to believe that the only reason you pushed me away last night is because you don't think you're good enough for me?"
"Well, it's the fucking truth!"
"It's pathetic. And absurd." Castiel absently wrings the rainwater from the sleeves of his coat, all the while glaring down at Dean. "Everyone has insecurities, all of varying degrees. It's part of being human. But when you care about something – really care about something – you don't just abandon it because you're afraid. You fight through your issues and you make it work. That's what life is all about, Dean: fighting for the things you love." For a split second, he stops looking so pissed. "There's nothing more rewarding, remember?"
Dean pokes at a cooling lump of waffle and sighs. "You make it sound so easy."
"It is. That's the point."
"Do you have any fucking idea how the mind works?" he hisses. "I've got serious issues, dude. And there ain't a fucking off switch for 'em, funnily enough." He throws the tray to the ground, his blood beginning to spike. "I don't know how you see me, but it doesn't matter anyway. I hate myself, alright? I fucking hate myself. That's why I put on a smile, flirt with the ladies, act like I'm normal… 'cause underneath the mask? It ain't pretty, lemme tell ya."
Castiel shakes his head, like he feels sorry for him. It's excruciating.
"That's no way to live, Dean."
"Well, it's been working for me so far."
"Has it?"
He sighs again, his breath pillowing through the morning air like tiny, crystallised clouds. "No," he says. "But if I keep telling myself it's working, maybe someday it will. Fake it till you make it, amiright?"
"So, you'd rather live a lie than face your fears?"
"I'm not a brave guy, Cas."
"Why do you say that?"
"When you kissed me, I fled. Both times." He shrugs. "That's the kinda person I am, I guess. I'm a runner, not a fighter."
"You could change that."
Dean looks down at the spilt mug of coffee leeching into the grass, his toes beginning to curl. "I'm a coward," he says decisively. "And I don't care if you think I'm saying that for attention or whatever... If thinking that makes it easier for you to hate me, then fine. That'll work."
"Why do you want me to hate you?"
"'cause then you can move on," he says, shrugging. "I don't want you hung up on me, Cas. You deserve better."
"Stop saying that."
"It's the truth, ain't it?"
"No." Castiel wrinkles his nose. "And I'm confused… Last night, you asked if we can still be friends, but now you're saying you'd rather cut me out of your life completely. Is that what you really want?"
"Course that's not what I want. But you didn't look too pleased at the idea of being friends after all this, so… I dunno. I thought this might be easier."
Castiel rubs his right temple and sighs. "I may have overreacted last night. I was embarrassed and confused. I lashed out at you." He turns soft eyes on Dean. "I suppose I find it difficult to comprehend the idea of you not feeling worthy of me."
"Whaddya mean?"
"Well, you're Dean Winchester," Castiel says, laughing wetly. "You're kind and funny and fiercely protective… And beautiful." He sniffs. "You could have anyone in the world, and yet you think someone like me is too good for you. It's quite surreal."
Dean snorts. "What the hell've you been smoking, man?"
Castiel smiles sadly, then tucks his knees under his chin. He rests his head on his shoulder and studies Dean with bright, slightly squinted eyes. "I wish the circumstances were different," he whispers. "I wish I could make you see how wonderful you are, so you could truly understand how much I care about you. But I realise now that you need more time than I thought." He swallows thickly, a single tear sliding down his cheek. "I really hope you learn to see yourself the way I see you someday… But I'm just not sure I can wait for that day to come anymore. It's too hard, Dean."
"What are you saying?"
"That maybe you're right; maybe it is time for me to let you go. For both our sakes."
Dean pinches his fingers together, urging himself not to cry. "Right. Yeah, okay. I think that's the right call to make."
"I'm not ruling out the possibility of friendship forever, I just… I think we need some time apart."
"Yeah. Sure."
"I don't like doing this, Dean."
"No, I know." He sniffs hard and blinks his tears away. "I've gotta work out my issues, and you… Well, you've got a tree to save. There's no room for excess drama, right?"
Castiel nods. "Right."
"Okay. So, um… That's that then, I guess."
"Would you like your book back?"
"Nah. You keep it," he says, his left cheek twitching with a smile. "You can give it back to me another time."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
He bends down to pick the waffles and coffee off the ground. There are flecks of grass encased in the honey, and a smudge of dirt around the rim of the mug. It's sad to think this breakfast tray was Instagram-worthy less than twenty minutes ago.
"Good luck for this afternoon," he says, grimacing at the lukewarm coffee on his fingers. "Not that you need it. I'm sure you'll have no problem knocking those fuckers onto their asses."
Castiel chuckles. "This is a peaceful protest, Dean. But I appreciate the sentiment."
"Oh, right. My bad." He rubs the back of his neck, then says, "I know you don't wanna hear this again, but I'm really sorry, Cas. I fucking hate myself for doing this to you. If things could be different, I'd –"
"I know," Castiel says, smiling slightly. "It's okay, Dean. I understand."
"I really care about you, man."
"And I you. But the last thing I want to do is force you into something you're not ready for. It wouldn't be fair on either of us."
Dean sucks in a breath. "I'm gonna sort myself out, I promise."
"Alright."
"I mean, I'm not asking you to wait for me or anything, but I just want you to know that."
Castiel huffs fondly. "I have faith in you, Dean."
"I have no idea why, but thanks."
"You're welcome." Castiel ducks his head, the smile fading from his lips. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd really like to be alone now. I just need some time to think things through."
"Oh, yeah. Of course."
"Thank you, Dean. For apologising. And being here for me."
He shrugs. "It was no biggy."
"Well… Goodbye."
"Seya, Cas."
Walking away feels wrong. Even though he knows deep down that giving Castiel space is the right thing to do – for both of them – he can't ignore the hollow ache in his chest, like he's just thrown away a vital organ or something. He wants to turn around and take back everything he said about not being right for each other, but that would be a dick move. After all the crap he's put Castiel through, the least he can do is respect his boundaries.
