He hadn't wanted to get out of bed, dragging Dean back down into the blankets for kisses every time he tried to get up. Dean took it, laughing and wishing it was every Sunday of his life. It was drawing the goodbye out too long and he knew it would just hurt more, but he loved it. He didn't want to think about the fact that next Sunday he'd probably be staying in bed until two, hungover and missing Cas.
Finally, two hours after he was supposed to be on the road, Cas was at the door, ready to go, but his lips were pressed against Dean's and his arms were around him. He was being more affectionate than he usually was, but Dean didn't mind. He returned it in spades, holding him even tighter and making the kiss deeper.
Cas pulled himself away before they could end up back in the bedroom. For a second, Dean let himself wonder what it would be like to wake up and get ready for work, Cas grumpily hiding himself from the lights and kissing him goodbye, still there when he got home from work. It was enough to make him want to ask, but he knew he wouldn't get it. He didn't deserve it anyway. This sneaking around and waiting was what he was good at.
Except, he didn't want to be.
He was oblivious to Dean's inner turmoil, giving a smile. "I will be back as soon as I can, Dean." With another quick kiss he was out the door. Just before it closed, Dean heard it, a sound that almost brought him to his knees. "I love you, Dean."
His head was spinning and his chest felt tight with the need to shout it back. He wanted to fly out the door and grab Cas and never let him go. He wanted to hear him say it again and again, in every tone he could. He wanted to whisper it into each other's ears in the middle of the night.
He wouldn't. He had to maintain his pride. He had to maintain the idea that he was in control of something.
Cas had him chained to him in every way. He was always waiting on Cas. And this once, Cas could wait on him. Cas could wonder if Dean felt that way about him. Cas could wonder if he was enough.
He was. He so fucking was, but Dean didn't want to give that to him tonight. He wanted to be petty and exact some small revenge on the man that had been tearing him up for five years – because if he was honest with himself, which he preferred not to do when it came to Cas, it was from way before graduation.
Dean poured himself a glass of whiskey from a bottle he'd hidden in his closet. He had noticed that they tended to go missing when Cas visited, but Dean couldn't even get mad about it. He just took precautions so the void of missing him would be able to be numbed by something.
He sat at his table with a pack of cigarettes and his whiskey, just listening to music and thinking. Months ago, he had made CD's, outdated technology but he loved the idea of them. There were at least ten that were dedicated to Cas, but only one for when he left. He listened to the songs, connected to the music and trying to hold himself together. He sang along with the lyrics that he felt particularly close to.
"Love is a terrible art, it's a hook in the heart that can drag you on broken glass, and as you protest the shards in your flesh, the hook tears out your chest until you're just a broken mess." It was true. Love had done nothing good for him. All it had managed was to make him into even more of a half-man than he'd been. Half the bottle was gone and he turned up the sound.
"Take everything from me, it means nothing now. Not so easy to forgive, harder to forget. Take what you want." His throat was raw and aching, but he lit another cigarette as soon as he stubbed out the one before. He wanted to forget about this whole thing. He wanted to go back to the way he was because at least then it was just regret. This hope was poisoning him.
Dean belted out lyrics, taking drinks straight from the bottle between words. "You let me lead but I still follow. You tell me not to think of tomorrow; still beg and borrow just to keep you with me. And your hand – my hand – just push the world away." He wanted to be alone with him forever. He wanted to have him to himself.
"All I want to do is build a home. You've got my heart and my soul." On the way back from the bathroom, he stumbled and bumped his wrist. It made him angry, and he'd never been that good at dealing with his anger. He slammed his other hand into the wall, breaking the skin on his knuckles open and leaving a dent in the wall. Cas had everything, every single thing. He had his family in Meg and then he got Dean, too. He wished he could hate him for that, but he couldn't. Hating Cas was something he thought was beyond him.
"I love you, too, Cas." It was the first time he'd ever said it out loud. The fact that it hurt his throat just made it seem more important.
Broken Mess – The Classic Crime
[Love is a terrible art, it's a hook in the heart that can drag you on broken glass, and as you protest the shards in your flesh, the hook tears out your chest until you're just a broken mess.]
Impossible – Anberlin
[Take everything from me, it means nothing now. Not so easy to forgive, harder to forget. Take what you want.]
What I'd Give Up – The Classic Crime
[All I want to do is build a home. You've got my heart and my soul.]
Do Me Right – The All American Rejects
[You let me lead but I still follow. You tell me not to think of tomorrow; still beg and borrow just to keep you with me. And your hand – my hand – just push the world away.]
