Chapter Ten: Dreaming

Castiel:

The next day Castiel woke up, and a sudden dread filled him. It had been a dream, all of it was a dream, he worried. It was much too good to be true, too good to happen to him. It couldn't be real. But then there was Dean, already up and changing his shirt and grinning at Castiel and leaning over his bed to kiss him sweetly on the forehead.

"Morning angel face." He told Castiel. So it hadn't been a dream then? Only then did the horror leave Castiel's body, and joy replaced it.

"Morning." Castiel replied sleepily, stretching his hands over his head and feeling at complete peace with the world.

"You should probably get up and get ready, you slept in." Dean told him. He nodded and got out of bed, letting his feet touch the cold floor, sending a shudder up his spine. He got ready as fast as possible, but truth be told, he was lost in a haze of slow, lazy happiness. Dean fluttered around him, getting himself ready, and then when he was done, helping Castiel get ready and then ushering him out the door and into the car. When they got to the studio Castiel did much better at practice, Tabitha commented on it frequently. Meg was smiling at him every chance she got as they danced.

"See? I told you you'd get the hang of it." Castiel smiled and nodded and thanked everyone for their support and praise. By the end of practice he was worn out and sweaty, but he felt triumphant. They moved to group practice. The dance this week was a face paced number to "Dreaming" by Smallpools. It was supposed to be about this group of people who found themselves in the Apocalypse and had to survive. A few number of them got to be zombies, affected by the virus that had spread and wiped out the population. They were all chosen for different roles. Dean was the leader of the humans, Castiel got the honor of being his right hand man. Meg, Alastair, Balthazar, Ed, Jess, Lilith, and Andrea, Delta and Ruby were the zombies, Kevin Chuck, Benny, Alfie, Jo, Delta, Charlie, Eve were on team human with Dean and Castiel. The routine was very fun to do, they would all be heavily costumed and Castiel found he enjoyed the message of the piece, that even when the world is ending, the had to retain hope.

After group practice Dean and Castiel decided to go to the studio and practice more on their own, only this time the dynamic was different between them. Before, they had both restrained themselves, both afraid that the other person would never return their feelings. Now as they danced, the sexual tension that was supposed to be present during the song was overwhelming, almost drowning Castiel. He really did feel like the pizza man now, wanting to reach out and grab Dean and pull him in for a scorching kiss. He felt his character's emotions. When the door got slammed in his face he was annoyed, wanting to see Dean's green eyes and his dimples right away. When Dean gave into him he felt as if he had won some great trophy. At one point Castiel surprised himself by actually growling in frustration. Suddenly the dance melted away and all he could think about were Dean's lips, and how much he wanted them on his own. He lurched towards Dean.

"Hey, where does that move-," Dean started, his head still in the game, Castiel practically tackled him and their lips collided again. "OOF!" Dean had the air knocked out of him as Castiel launched into him, grabbing fist fulls of Dean's shirt and yanking Dean towards him, slamming their lips together. Castiel kissed him hungrily, and only then did he realize he had been waiting all day to do so. Dean brought his hands up, cupping Castiel's face. For all Castiel's urgency, Dean was still soft and slow, kissing him lovingly, as if he had waited all his life to kiss Castiel like this. Castiel pulled back, breathing heavily.

"Sorry . . . I just couldn't . . . I needed you . . ." Dean laughed a little bit.

"It's okay. But we really should focus on your dance moves . . . I mean don't get me wrong, all the frustration is hot. But . . ."

"Well if you don't want to kiss me, you could have just said." Castiel retorted snarkily. Dean grabbed Castiel by his chin and tipped it up so he could press a loving soft kiss to Castiel's mouth.

"I will always want to kiss you angel." Dean promised him quietly.

"Always?" Castiel asked, looking up at Dean sheepishly. He didn't know what caused him to ask the question, he just felt like he had to be reassured for some reason. Dean kissed him again, this time holding on to Castiel's hips before pulling away a bit and whispering in his ear.

"For as long as I can dance, my heart will dance for you." Castiel was breath taken. He had never thought he would have someone in his life who would love him so quickly, so completely.

"That was so cheesy." Was all the response he could muster. Dean snorted.

"You loved it."

"I did. How do you know me so well already Dean?" Dean sat down and pulled Castiel along, he landed halfishly in Dean's lap.

"Alright, get ready for more cheesiness angel. But I believe in reincarnation. I believe that in past lives, we meet people, souls that stick with us in all of our cycles. Do you ever meet someone and think . . . 'wow, I feel like I know them already'?" Castiel nodded, wondering where Dean was going with this. "Well I felt like that and more when I met you."

"What do you mean?" The question spilled forth from Castiel's lips. With Dean everything was so easy, he wasn't second guessing every word he said. He simply said what he thought and knew Dean would accept him for it.

"Well, there are some people you have just known before. And then there are soul mates. People who contain the other half of you. When I saw you dancing on that stage in Austin . . . I think I knew right then. I think I was already in love with you. I think when I saw you dancing, I saw my heart unleashed on a stage and wearing a human body."

There were no words for what Castiel felt right at that moment. Was it awe? But no, it was stronger than that. Was it love? No, it was more powerful than that.

"Kiss me Dean." and so Dean did, and Castiel once again marveled at how well they fit together, like two puzzle pieces, like two halves of a heart. Warmth spread throughout Castiel, the kind of warmth of a hot shower that reminds you that you are cold, even when you didn't know you were before. Castiel realized his entire life had been cold. In black and white. His entire life had been nothing, and then he met Dean, and it was all in color. Dean pulled back.

"Are we . . . are we moving too fast? Because we can go slower if you . . ." Castiel ran a hand through the other man's sandy blond hair.

"I'll let you know when I feel like it's too fast." Castiel told him, leaning forward to kiss Dean again. "For now, this is perfect." They didn't practice dance anymore that night. They simply lay on the floor in their soft embrace until finally, they decided it was time to go home.

Dean:

It made perfect sense to Dean why they had agreed, unspoken, not to tell anyone they were dating. The first reason was the reaction. Dean himself cared only slightly if people knew he was gay. Really, he didn't even consider himself gay, just in love. He had never liked another guy like this before. Maybe he was only angelsexual, not gay. Whatever the case, he loved Cas, even though they hadn't officially said "I love you" . . . it had only been two days, and Cas wanted to take it slow. Dean was fine with slow. Dean needed slow in his life. For now he was contented just to wake up in the mornings and get to watch Cas slowly come to consciousness in the silver morning light. He was happy to share that smile with him, the one that said they shared a secret. He was ecstatic to kiss him where no one could see, and think of kissing him when he was away from him. Dean was truly happy, more happy than he had ever been. Another reason they decided not to tell anyone was the competition. Sure, it didn't effect anyone now, but if the public knew they were dating it would hugely effect their votes, and Dean didn't know if that would be for better or for worse (though he had a theory for better) and if that happened, all the other contestants would be upset at the unfair advantage. It had nothing to do with dance, and everything to do with who they were, and if Cas wasn't comfortable sharing his story with the world, Dean doubted he would be comfortable sharing this. Their story.

The week went on in a blur of practicing, sore muscles, and soft kisses. Dean wished they had more time together, wished they could be like a normal couple and go on dates all the time and hold hands and make out, but they couldn't, and they both knew it. For now their version of dates were dance practices. They would go alone together at the studio and practice both dance styles. Cas helped him a little with Ballroom, even though it wasn't Cas's specialty, he seemed to grasp it better than Dean. And Dean helped Cas with his pizza man routine. Dean had to admit he liked that much better, the routine was inspired, hilarious and sexy all in one. He was almost jealous he wouldn't get to dance it for real, on the stage. But then he looked at Cas, trying his hardest not to fall over when he dropped it low, and realized he'd rather watch Cas dance it anyway.

They had just gotten home one night, silly happy from their time together, both laughing as they opened the door. Team evil was sitting on the couch watching some horror movie about ripping people apart.

"Fagots." Alistair said, as if in greeting. Dean didn't care much himself, he didn't like the word, had hated it ever since he discovered it. To Dean it was the equivalent to being racist. It was disgusting. But he wasn't about to get his knickers in a twist over it. However, as soon as he saw the hurt look in Cas's eyes, he was pissed off.

"Shut the fuck up asshat." Dean growled, moving towards Alistair. They had found themselves in this exact position before, Alistair taunting them, Dean moving to hurt him, Cas holding him back, as he did now. Dean knew he could push through Cas and beat the crap out of the leach sitting in front of him, but he let Cas hold him back.

"Aww did the wittle man get angry?" Alistair asked, chuckling darkly. He nudged Ruby with an elbow. "Did you hear that Rube? I made the little homo mad." Dean was seeing red as Cas looked down at the ground as if in defeat.

"Dean let's go upstairs." Cas begged him.

"Yeah, run back to your bedroom. But this time when you fuck, can you be more quiet about it?"

"Why you sonofabitch . . ." Dean's fists were clenched, every muscle tense and ready to pounce. Cas pulled on his arm and he looked down at him, at his pleading eyes.

"No Dean. Let's just ignore them and go upstairs."

"Cas . . ."

"They day they are actually worth beating up is the day I'll let you." Cas told him, casting a nasty glance over at team evil. "For now, they are bottom feeders who aren't worth getting in trouble over. Remember why you're here. Remember your brother. You belong here, much more than they do. And soon America will see that and vote them off. One by one they will fall, and go back to their homes, their tails between their legs like the low, scum of the earth that they are. For now though, they aren't worth it." Dean could feel himself smiling, and could feel how much he wanted to kiss Cas. He cast a glance back over to team evil. Lilith was glaring, Ruby just raised her eyebrow and gave them a look. Alistair was fuming. Dean realized Cas's words did so much more than Dean's fists ever could. Alistair wanted Dean to hit him, wanted to get Dean kicked out. He did not want to sit around and be insulted. Dean let Cas lead the way upstairs to their room. Once the door was shut Dean said,

"That was one of the hottest things I've ever seen." He cornered Cas up against a wall, his hands cupping Cas's face again. Cas rested his own hands on the backs of Dean's elbows, his head tilting to the side slightly.

"What do you mean?" Dean kissed him along his jaw and nibbled slightly at his pulse point.

"I mean," He breathed against Cas's skin, "You saw right through their intentions, and you squashed them like a bug. It was hot." He bit slightly harder and heard Cas struggle to contain a moan, biting his lips to hold it in. "I like it when you take control baby." Dean told him, licking over where he had just bit. Dean ran his hands underneath Cas's shirt, feeling the flat pane of his stomach, bumping his palms over the little muscles there, running them soothingly up and down Cas's back, scratching gently with his blunt nails. Cas arched into him, his pupils blown wide and his bottom lip caught fiercely in between his teeth. Dean kissed his way back up Cas's jaw and kissed his lips, stealing Cas's bottom lip and nibbling on it gently, holding his angel to him. Cas moaned into Dean's mouth and Dean thought there wasn't another sound in this universe that sounded nearly so delicious.

Finally, Cas pulled a way a little.

"I don't want you to misunderstand my intentions . . ." He started, nervously. Dean chuckled. Cas was going to take him apart bit by bit and completely undo him. Even his nerdy speech had Dean aching for him. "But I would like to . . . maybe sleep in the same bed tonight . . . if that's . . . I mean . . ." Cas couldn't meet Dean's eyes, he was too nervous, and blushing like crazy. "I mean if that's okay with you Dean . . ." Dean smiled at him and kissed his forehead.

"I would love to sleep in the same bed as you Cas. And don't worry, I won't pressure you." Cas nodded and Dean tilted Cas's chin up again. "Angel, you don't have to be nervous. It's just me. Breathe, remember?" Cas finally met his eyes and smiled. They both got ready for bed and when it was time, Cas pulled back the covers on his bed, motioning for Dean to slide in. He did, and Cas lay down next to him. Dean pulled the other man into his arms and for a moment they just lay facing each other, their eyes gleaming in the darkness. Dean kissed Cas again, slowly. He tasted like his toothpaste, fresh and minty with a hint of something else so uniquely Cas. Like a cinnamon/sugar sprinkled pie crust. Dean took deep breaths, moving against Cas deliberately, mapping out the other man like one would map out the stars. They fell asleep in each others arms, Dean wondering if it was possible to be one hundred percent in love after being together for such a short time, but he looked down at the sleeping blue eyed man in his arms, his hair all bushy with sleep and sticking out in a million different directions, and decided it was so very possible. Love, he thought, I love him. Before his dreams washed over him like waves washing over the beach, pulling him out to swim.