Warnings: This chapter contains profanity, some discussion of homophobia, and some explicit sexual content but no actual sex. That darn plot got in the way again.
This chapter is set during 5.17: "99 Problems", and I've borrowed a few lines of dialogue from the show, but most of it's me. By the way, I never do the whole "I don't own Supernatural" thing in these notes because I assume it's obvious. If I did, Destiel would be canon, and all the boys would spend a lot more time shirtless. Especially Misha. Do you realize he's taken off his clothes like three times in the past ten seasons? It's a good thing his face is gorgeous too. Okay, my boyfriend is reading over my shoulder and giving me a Look, so I'm gonna stop now.
Happy reading, and please leave a review. I would try to bribe you but I respect you too much.
"Heads up." Dean tossed Cas a bottle of painkillers.
Cas caught it neatly. Even hungover he was still more graceful than the average human. "How many should I take?"
"You?" Dean snorted. "You should probably just down the whole bottle." He'd drunk most of a liquor store apparently and only got slightly hammered. A few handfuls of generic over the counter drugs weren't going to hurt him.
As Cas started pouring the pills into his mouth like candy, Dean had a sudden vivid flashback to future Cas smoking, drinking, and popping anything he could find to "take the edge off". Fear rose up in him, so strong it could almost be called terror. Nothing's changed, he thought. All these months, fighting tooth and nail to find another way, but Lucifer was right. We're just changing the details. The end result is still the same. I lose hope. Cas goes on a bender. The world ends. He remembered the promise he'd made to himself, that even if he couldn't change anything else, he would at least be there for Cas.
"You know," he said, sitting down next to the angel on the damp bus bench, "before my dad died, he apologized to me. For the responsibilities he put on me when I was a kid. For screwing up any chance I had at a normal life. But he didn't …" Dean stared unseeingly across the empty parking lot, his eyes prickling with unexpected tears. He told himself it was just the cold even though it wasn't all that cold. "He didn't say the one thing I really wanted to hear," he went on. "He didn't tell me it was okay that I liked men, that I was still his son and he loved me no matter what. He didn't let me out of that stupid promise. And then he died."
Dean looked over at Cas who was watching him with furrowed brow, trying to figure out why Dean was telling him this now.
"What I'm trying to say is, I get it. I know what it's like to not get the answers you're looking for and to know that you never will. It sucks, and … I'm here for you if you want to talk about it."
Cas just sighed and lowered his head onto Dean's shoulder. They sat like that for a while, careless of who might see.
Then Cas started to press closer, mouthing at Dean's jaw, licking it. For a moment Dean was too mesmerized by the sensation to think. He turned his head and caught Cas's tongue in his own mouth. It tasted awful, like every kind of alcoholic beverage ever invented overlaid with the bitter residue of the pills. Even future Cas had tasted better. Dean twisted away, barely resisting the urge to gag. "Cas, you need to brush your teeth if you ever want me to kiss you again."
Cas returned to licking Dean's stubble. "How about I just kiss you everywhere except on the mouth?" he suggested. He groped Dean's cock through his jeans and grinned smugly when it swelled a little at his touch.
Dean struggled against the tide of arousal swamping his brain. There were plenty of things Cas could do with that mouth of his that wouldn't offend Dean's senses at all, but … "Cas, this really isn't a good place for this. The people in this town ain't exactly open minded."
"I thought we agreed that you weren't going to worry about that anymore," Cas murmured, still perusing the contents of Dean's pants without actually opening them.
"This is different," Dean said, firmly pushing Cas's hand away. "A couple hours ago they shot a guy for selling alcohol. Do you really want to find out what the punishment for homosexuality is?"
Cas conceded the point with a sigh, but a second later he said, "You know this motel is completely empty except for you and Sam. We could use any room we wanted."
Dean was hard enough now that he seriously considered the idea. "Sam will come looking for us soon."
"I can be quiet if I have to," Cas said. "And very quick." He bit Dean's ear.
It should have broken Dean's resolve, but instead it reminded him of future Cas saying, So can we fuck now? He pushed Cas away harder than he meant to and stood up, backing out of reach. "What the fuck, Cas?" he growled. The anger that had been simmering in him since the angel showed up finally boiled over. "You disappear for weeks, can't even be bothered to answer your phone. I was worried sick. I thought maybe the angels had caught you. And then you show up drunk, and all you want from me is a quick fuck? Is that what we are now? Fuck buddies?" He wasn't shouting because he didn't want Sam to hear, but the low tone somehow made the words more venomous.
Cas rose to his feet, eyes flashing and wings spreading wide. "I don't know what we are," he said, also speaking in a deadly quiet snarl. "I know what you are prepared to give, and what you are not prepared to give. I know that when we're alone you tell me you love me, and when we're in public you won't even touch me. So tell me, Dean, what does that make us? Tell me because I don't know. I've never done anything like this before. I don't know what the rules are. And you're too busy keeping your bullshit promise to even notice how much this is hurting me." His voice cracked on the last two words, and he collapsed back onto the bench looking so tired and defeated that all the anger left Dean in an instant.
He crouched down in front of Cas and took the angel's hands in his. "I do notice," he said softly. "I just don't know how to fix it."
"Yes, you do," Cas said flatly.
"I made a promise, Cas."
Cas laughed humorlessly. "That's an excuse, and you know it. The truth is, you're afraid. You're afraid that once everyone knows, that will make this a real relationship."
"This is a real relationship. I love you."
Cas smiled. He always smiled when Dean said those words, but this time it was barely there for a moment and gone before he said, "I love you too." He took a shaky breath. "But I don't think love means the same thing to you as it does to me."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded.
Cas gave him a piercing, soul gazing stare. "I would do anything for you, Dean. What would you do for me?"
"I can't break my promise, Cas. Please don't ask me for that."
"So your loyalty to a dead man is more important than your so called love for me. Good to know."
The words stung like a slap, and Dean flinched back, letting go of Cas's hands. "What do you want from me?" he almost begged.
Cas shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes. "If I tell you what to say and you say it, I'll never know if you really mean it. I don't want you to lie to me. You're far too good at it."
A thick, uncomfortable silence fell. Finally Dean couldn't bear it anymore. "Are we …" His voice shook as he forced out the dreaded question. "Are we over?"
"Do you want us to be?" Cas countered, staring fixedly at the ground.
"No. Never. Do you?"
"No."
It was said so quietly that Dean didn't hear it, but he saw Cas's mouth shape the word, and there was no hesitation. That should have been comforting, but somehow it made things worse. They couldn't keep going the way they had been. The secrecy was suffocating them. But they couldn't let go either. Their need for each other had become an iron chain, binding them together and dragging them down at the same time. They would both willingly drown in secrets and lies rather than give up the comfort of the other's touch. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt, and it didn't mean that they wouldn't come to hate each other for it. They would hate and love and want and need each other all at the same time, and someday it would kill them.
If only I hadn't made that promise, Dean thought for the millionth time. If only I could go back and tell myself not to do it, that Dad's approval wasn't worth this.
Suddenly, an idea began to form in Dean's mind. A wild, reckless, stupid idea which was his favorite kind. Dizzyingly quickly, the idea crystallized into a plan. Still stupid, but now it was a detailed kind of stupid, the kind that made you go, Well, that's just crazy enough to work.
He took Cas's face between his hands and gently forced the angel to look at him. "I'm gonna fix this," he said. "Soon. We have to deal with the situation in this town first, but once that's done … I'm gonna make it so we don't have to hide anymore. I promise."
"What are you going to do?" Cas asked suspiciously.
"It's better if I don't tell you."
"Dean —"
"Just trust me."
Cas looked into his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "I do."
Dean kissed him quickly on the lips, keeping their mouths firmly closed. He pulled back and dropped his hands to his knees a second before the door of the motel room opened and Sam poked his head out.
Sam paused for a second, maybe taken aback by their odd position, or maybe sensing some lingering tension in the air. "Everything okay?" he asked.
"Fine," Dean said, standing up. It's all gonna be fine. Very soon.
~o0o~
Dean settled Cas on the bed. Sam was distracted patching up Pastor Gideon, so Dean risked resting his hand very briefly on Cas's cheek. If asked, he could say he was checking for a fever. Whatever spell the Whore had used on Cas had left him weak and pale, but he relaxed under Dean's touch and stopped trembling like a leaf in the wind.
"You gonna be okay?" Dean asked.
"I'll heal," Cas assured him. "My grace is depleted, but it should recharge in a few hours."
"Good." Dean had been hoping for some last-night-on-earth sex before he implemented his stupid plan, but Cas was in no condition, and if Dean didn't do it now, he might lose his nerve. He wished he could at least kiss Cas goodbye, but Sam was looking at them now. He was suspicious, and he was right to be. Dean was planning exactly what Sam thought he was planning, but not for the reasons Sam thought. Dean wasn't giving up. He was just gambling, the biggest gamble of his life.
Dean squeezed Cas's arm and said, "Get some rest. I'll be back soon." It wasn't a lie. Soon was relative.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked sharply when Dean headed for the door.
"To get more bandages out of the trunk. Chill."
Sam relaxed. Dean hated how easy it was. Cas was right. He was way too good of a liar.
He closed the door behind him, moved a trash can in front of it to slow Sam down a bit, and ran for the car. In the rearview mirror he saw the trash can tip over and caught a glimpse of his brother's terrified, betrayed expression as Sam chased after the speeding Impala. But he just pressed the gas pedal a little harder and skidded out of the parking lot, and then it was just him and Baby and the open road.
He felt the familiar, almost euphoric sense of purpose that he always got at the beginning of a hunt, but this time was different. This time he was on a mission to save Cas, not the world. If the world had to burn so that Cas would smile again, then Dean would happily light the match.
