"I am thinking it's a sign, that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned. And I have to speculate, that God himself did make us into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay."
[Iron & Wine - Such Great Heights]
They sweet smell of apple pie filled the kitchen. Castiel stood beside Dean at the sink, doing the dishes side by side as they waited for the pies to be ready. Castiel found the voices coming from the living room comforting. Sam and Bobby were catching up with old and new stories. Meanwhile, Castiel kept catching Dean's eyes, wondering why he wasn't there with them. Washing dishes was a one-person job, after all.
Dean had an absent smile as he scrubbed a plate and handed it to Castiel to rinse and dry. His mind seemed far away, it was clear in his cloudy eyes.
Castiel elbowed him softly on his side. "A penny for your thoughts, Dean."
"I was just thinking about the day my dad gave me my car," Dean said, a bit sheepishly. He pushed some of his hair back with his arm. "I've had a lot of memories inside it."
"Good ones, I hope," Castiel said, taking the last of the dishes to clean, and then letting the water go down the drain.
"You could say that, yeah," Dean said, turning around and leaning against the sink, drying his hands with a clean towel. Dean threw him a knowing smile, and Castiel didn't have to ask further. "I've been thinking."
"You do that a lot," Castiel said, drying his own hands. He glanced at Dean, wanting to tell him so many things, while simultaneously wanting to say nothing at all but relish his presence.
"Don't get smart with me," Dean said, raising his eyebrows. "I've been thinking about this whole situation."
"Are you ready to accept my grace?" Castiel asked. They hadn't discussed it much, but Sam and Bobby had both looked eager for Dean to finally accept Castiel's grace in order to stop being a demon. "Because it's yours. I'm just keeping it safe for you."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Not this again. Look, man, let's be realistic for one moment. When this apocalypse shit goes down-and it will-we're going to need an angel on our side. So what if I'm still a demon? I can drink that holy water and be okay. I know I used to want my humanity before, but now I don't think I care as much."
"Sam and Bobby won't be happy about this," Castiel said, shaking his head. Although Dean had a point, Castiel knew that it was best to have Dean back to normal, to fix what he'd broken.
"I don't need you to fix me," Dean said, as if reading Castiel's mind. He held up a hand to silence him. "Before I lose my good mood, let me finish my first train of thought, alright?"
Castiel waited.
"I was thinking that we only have a couple days left before this all goes to shit," Dean said, rolling up his shirtsleeves. "I don't mean to sound like a Negative Nancy, but if we're going to die, we should make our time left here worthwhile."
"We're not going to die, Dean," Castiel said sternly. "Not if I can help it."
"Let's say we do," Dean said, somberly. "I'm in a house with people I care about. Family. You. I know we're missing a few, but we gotta work with what we have."
"What are you getting at?"
"I want to live," Dean said quietly, yet earnestly. "I want to try and have a good last few days on earth. I don't want to resent you, and I don't want you to resent me for all that's happened before. Bobby isn't trying to kill me, and that's great! Sam is still my pain-in-the-ass baby brother, and he's still looking out for me. I mean, do you know how lucky I am? I want to enjoy this bit of life I have, and I want it to be good."
There was confidence and vulnerability in Dean's face. Castiel knew exactly what Dean was asking for. He wanted peace before the storm. He wanted to make the best of the time they were sure they had. How could Castiel deny him that? How could anyone?
"I do not resent you, Dean." Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, and let his hand slide down his arm, until he gripped his wrist. "I'll be here. I'll make sure nothing disturbs this house in the next two days."
"Thanks," Dean said, looking relieved.
Sam cleared his throat, standing in the doorway. "Am I interrupting something?"
"You kinda always are, Sammy," Dean said, jerking back his hand from Castiel's grip and folding his arms.
Sam snorted. "It's not my fault if you two are too slow to get a room." He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. "Something smells good."
"Apple pie," Dean said. "Do we know where we're gonna crash tonight?"
"Guest bedrooms," Sam said. "There's only the two of them, so one of you's gonna have to take the couch." Taking a sip of the water, Sam tried not to laugh.
"I'll take the couch," Castiel said easily. "I don't think I'll be sleeping at all anyway."
Dean shot him a frown. "Mind checking on the pie, Cas? I gotta go talk to Bobby." Castiel nodded, and Dean left the room.
"What's his deal?" Sam asked.
"He has a lot on his mind," Castiel said. "I think we all do." Castiel attempted a smile. "Would you like a drink?"
"You want to drink with me?" Sam wondered, setting down his water on the counter.
"I like your company." Castiel grabbed two glasses and the bottle of rum he'd found underneath the sink. "While Dean and I stored the groceries, we found Bobby's liquor stash." Castiel filled both glasses and handed one to Sam.
Sam laughed, taking a sip. "Strong."
Castiel was barely fazed by the liquor traveling down his throat. "It's good."
"So, hey, did you and Dean at least come close to an agreement?" Sam asked. "About your grace."
"Unfortunately, no, not yet," Castiel said, taking a long swig of his drink until the glass was empty. He refilled his glass without losing a beat. "I can assure you I don't have a drinking problem, Sam."
"I don't blame you for drinking," Sam said, staring down at the glass in his hands without taking another sip from it. "Do you think we have a shot at survival after Michael has his fun destroying the world?"
Castiel took another sip. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
"Dean trusts you," Sam said.
"Does he?" Castiel asked, pausing with his drink halfway to his lips.
"He's willing to back you up against anything," Sam said. "I don't know if you realize how unusual that blind faith is for my brother."
It was true. Castiel knew with certainty that Dean would be there at his side through anything. He wouldn't back down, even at the sight of Lucifer and Michael. Dean trusted Castiel, had faith in him. That was…quite overwhelming.
"I think the pie is done." Castiel downed the rest of his drink before taking out the pie from the oven. When he turned around, Sam was gone, but his nearly full drink was left on the counter. Castiel set the pie on a cooling rack and finished Sam's drink. He was starting to feel the effects of the rum in his system. Just barely.
Sam and Dean sat on the floor in front of the couch. Bobby was slouched in a recliner. And Castiel was sprawled on the couch with the bottle of rum in his hand, pressed against his chest. There were moments of comfortable silence between their conversations.
"You boys remember Sam's fourteenth birthday?" Bobby asked, eyes half shut. "John's birthday gift was letting him skip out on a case."
"Oh, boy," Sam said, shaking his head.
"I took you to the playground and bought you an ice cream cake, remember?" Dean asked Sam, throwing his head back on the couch. He chuckled.
"I called Bobby, since we were in South Dakota that day," Dean said. "We ate ice cream cake on the swings."
"It was so embarrassing," Sam said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All the kids at the playground asked for a piece of cake and we didn't have any plates so we just kinda picked at it."
"It was a damn peaceful day, though," Bobby said, snickering. "Still makes me laugh from time to time." He got up from the recliner with a grunt. "Well, I'm gonna get some shut-eye. The two guest rooms are all ready for you boys." He hesitated, glancing back to Castiel. "Look in the hall closet for blankets and pillows, boy. In case you get cold."
"Thank you, sir," Castiel said, leaning up on his elbows on the couch. "I won't steal any more of your bottles."
Bobby grunted. "See y'all tomorrow."
"Good night, Bobby," Sam said.
"Don't let the bed bugs bite," Dean said in a sing-song voice.
Bobby was chuckling all the way to his room.
The next second, Sam was up on his feet. He stretched out his limbs. "I'm going to turn in, too."
"Alright," Dean said. "We'll get you some ice cream cake tomorrow."
"Ha. Ha." Sam flipped Dean off before leaving.
Castiel put down his bottle of rum and rolled to his side on the couch. Dean turned around to face him at the sound of his movement. There was a question in his eyes, and Castiel had only one answer for him.
"You know you don't have to sleep out here, don't you?" Dean asked softly. His voice was like a caress.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Castiel said. The thought of sleeping in Dean's room sent a tingle of excitement through him, but he had to get used to the idea that things were different now between them.
"You won't," Dean said, getting up. He tilted his head to the hallway. "The bed's big enough."
"Okay," Castiel said, following Dean into the guest room left to him.
They both sat on the bed, each removing their own shoes in silence. The only light in the room was of the bedside reading lamp. Castiel removed his sweater and pants, staying only in his boxers and socks.
Dean took off his pants but kept his undershirt on, only removing his flannel. He got in bed, under the covers. "Michael is Napoleon," Dean murmured.
Castiel paused before getting into bed. "What?"
"In Animal Farm," Dean said. "That book you gave me. The pig, Napoleon, he manipulated the farm animals. Everyone thought he was the best leader. They couldn't see his true intentions."
"Dean—"
"They trusted him," Dean said, staring at Castiel. "Just like you and all the angels trust him. Michael is days away from destroying our world, but no one is strong enough to step up to him. In the end, Napoleon wins."
Castiel crawled into bed, sitting up close beside Dean. He stared at the blank wall ahead of him. "In a way, I guess you're right. Even if I wanted to, my hands are tied at this moment. After all I've done, I doubt Michael will speak to me."
"It's so clear, though," Dean said. "You know your enemy. Why is it so hard to strike?"
"What, you want us to bring a revolution?" Castiel asked jokingly.
"That's not such a bad idea," Dean said.
Castiel faced him, noting how close their faces were from each other. He glanced into his eyes. He was serious. "There's nothing any of us can do."
"Like I said, Napoleon always wins." Dean smiled sadly.
"Sleep," Castiel said, though his words were gentle.
Dean lied down and so did Castiel. He reached up to turn off the lamp light. Moments later, Dean's breathing became even and rhythmic, and Castiel thought he'd gone to sleep.
The ceiling was all Castiel could look at. Having Dean at his side was a distraction from his thoughts, but he couldn't make himself sleep, not like he used to. As a human, he needed to sleep. Now, it felt more like a vacation from his problems. He couldn't take one of those. Maybe that was how Dean felt when he first met him. Although, that hadn't been the first time they met, it was still all Dean would ever know about their first meeting.
"Go to sleep, Cas," Dean mumbled, shifting to his side.
Castiel rolled his head, and then shifted to his side as well, so that their bodies faced each other. After a moment's hesitation, he draped an arm over Dean's waist. When Dean didn't argue about it, he pulled him closer.
"Hey," Dean breathed into Castiel's mouth.
"I want to kiss you," Castiel said.
Dean broke the short distance and pressed his lips against Castiel's, kissing him chastely in the dark. Castiel moved his hand under Dean's shirt, trailing it up his naked back, kissing him slowly. Dean sighed into his mouth, gripping Castiel's arm as he pressed his hardening bulge against his. A moan escaped Castiel as he felt the pressure in his groin and his fingernails dug into Dean's back.
"Shh," Dean whispered, chuckling quietly.
"Do you think they can hear us?" Castiel wondered.
"These walls are paper thin," Dean said with a small nod. He kissed him again, rolling Castiel to his back and landing his weight on top of him. Dean's fingers weaved in Castiel's hair, while Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's back, trailing his sides. The kiss went on, and it was sweet and unhurried, but passionate enough that Castiel's toes curled under the blanket.
"Dean, I…" Castiel trailed off, gazing into Dean's face in the dark. The moonlight coming in from the window was scarce, but he knew every freckle in Dean's face by memory. For years.
"I know," Dean said, nodding his head once before kissing down Castiel's jaw.
"You sure about this?" Castiel asked. He had not forgotten the reason they fought last time.
"We're not discussing this," Dean whispered, words muffled by his kisses. "So shut up."
Castiel laughed, trying to keep it quiet. He had to purse his lips, though, when Dean bit at his neck, and then sucked at the sensitive skin.
"When they ask about my hickey in the morning, what am I supposed to say?" Castiel whispered, catching Dean's lips again.
Dean pulled back. "You're a big boy, you'll own up to it."
Castiel cupped Dean's face in his hands, kissing his lips a few more times. "That's my Dean."
Dean covered his mouth to muffle his laughter. He rolled back to his side of the bed, landing on his back. "Alright, then, my Cas."
Castiel frowned, until Dean kissed him one last time and snuggled close to him, draping an arm over Castiel's chest and placed his face against his shoulder. Castiel pressed his lips to Dean's head. "Sweet dreams, Dean."
"Mmm," Dean said, lulling himself to sleep.
Castiel thought maybe he could use a vacation.