A/N – Enjoy another chapter! I'm blessing you after last night's episode because we all deserve so much Destiel stuff.
When Sam delivered fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee the next morning to the room, he interrupted Cas from gazing at Dean's sleeping form.
Still he welcomed his best friend's intrusion which lasted briefly because the younger Winchester wanted to take a morning run. It was six thirty and both of them being early risers, barely complained about Dean sleeping like a baby on his ruffled bed.
"So after I talked to the boyfriend yesterday," Sam sipped his Chai tea and found the taste rather lovely, "he said that the night when Miranda didn't show, he distinctly remembered seeing a guy lurking across the street. And guess what? The description he gave me matches the looks of John McKinnon, the victim before Miranda."
"The shifter was still utilizing that form?" Cas frowned.
"Weird right?" Sam bit into his cinnamon roll and chewed. After coming into the room, it was so evident that Cas had slept in the same bed as his brother. The other bed was neatly made up. And he wondered if they were really okay, if the steam had been blown off or if things were still shaky.
"After Dean gets up, we can talk to the other victim's family."
"Kelly Richards?" Sam couldn't stop admiring how the other man kept gazing intently as his brother. "Well she's the first one. About four weeks ago, I figure. Maybe you two could check out where she worked and I could pay her mom a visit."
"Sam," Cas blinked at the older Winchester. "Just because Dean and I are a couple now, it doesn't mean that I wouldn't mind being paired up with you. And I'd like to."
"Great," Sam beamed at him and felt all tingly inside. "Hopefully he could let go of you though. Dude's been mushy ever since. He reminds me of a can of soup."
"Dean has been…going through a lot," Cas said softly, recalling the prior day's conversations between them.
Sam frowned though. "You two okay?"
"We are. We're just working through a few barriers."
"Like his inability to talk about his feelings and anything other than his looks?" Sam was teasing. "Truth is, he pretends to be shallow but he's deeper than I am. Dean would rather hide the truth than talk about it. But when he gets comfortable with you, he doesn't hold back. And I guess he's opening up to you and you're realizing that there are plenty of things you didn't know about him, huh?"
"I'm learning so much about him," Cas admitted. He sipped his coffee. "More than I've learned in the time we've known each other."
"Word of advice," Sam swallowed and licked his lips. "He cries easily when he has to talk about himself. And I don't mean this as something funny but if he cries, it means that he's breaking those barriers to let you in. It freaking hurts him to break his walls, Cas. Dean has locked himself inside so many layers over the years, sometimes I can't even get in. But you can. You always could. And when he cries, don't distance yourself from him. Hug him. Even if he fights you. Just…he loves cuddles."
"Thank you," Cas smiled. "I really appreciate that, Sam."
After the younger Winchester left, Cas sat on the window seat and stared for a long time at the morning traffic on the highway. The heavy trucks, the speeding bikes and the few persons that dared to cross. He also studied an owl who had drifted further into the maple tree just outside the window. And he wondered if perhaps the owl had built a little house inside the tree with a comfortably sized living room, bedroom and kitchen.
"Morning, darling," Dean's groggy voice greeted him a little while after as soft footsteps padded upon the floor.
Cas turned around and into a deep kiss that unearthed a low moan from both of them. "Good morning, my love," he said smiling into the kiss as Dean hovered above him and then stood up. "Did you sleep well?"
"I did," the other man yawned and stretched like a cat. "Did you?"
"Like a baby. Sam brought you a slice of apple pie and a coffee."
"Yeah?" Dean approached the table, lifted the lid on the box and beamed at the delicacy. He collected the coffee, lifted the lid and drank deeply, his emerald eyes fluttering close.
"After you eat and shower, Sam and I will visit the first victim's mother whilst you can check out where she worked," Cas noted the flicker of disappointment in the other man's eyes. "A factory that makes pies," he added. Slowly a grin spread across the hunter's face. "You're welcome."
"It feels good to be hunting again," Dean smiled from ear to ear and within ten minutes, he had slipped into the bathroom and was peeling off his clothes in glee.
Pies. Goddamn glorious smells of all kinds. Maybe he would be lucky enough to collect a few. Just a few. Nothing much. And they had a refrigerator in the motel room, so he could safely store them inside. But the most beautiful thing of it all was knowing that neither Sam nor Cas would touch his pies because he was the only one who savored the delicacy. He was the only one who loved pies.
Squeezing out just enough Irish Spring body wash, Dean absentmindedly lathered himself up as the heavy scent filled the red and white tiled bathroom. Come to think of it, maybe he could share his pies. Maybe he could introduce Cas to the best creation ever in the food department. Slowly though because Cas was still getting used to tasting food without the minute details of molecules. But he could ease him into it. Just as Cas had eased him into consuming triangular shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches whilst they spent time together in the bunker.
When he waltzed out of the shower though, swelling from pride after glancing at himself in the mirror and realizing that he looked damn sexy again, Dean found the bedroom as silent as a grave. With his hair sticking up and beads of water draining down his exposed torso, he stopped and searched for Cas. He wasn't on the window seat. Neither was his coat thrown over the chair. His shoes were missing and so was his phone. And instantly, Dean felt terribly empty inside.
He hated the feeling, of knowing that the absence of Cas had pulled half of his heart through the door. Of knowing that whenever they were separated now, the distance burned in his chest like fire. And maybe he still had doubts that would not surface between them. Even after they talked about very deep things the night before, Dean still felt somewhat unsure of the future. Because he kept fearing that Cas would run. From the moment he was exposed to the darkness inside of Dean, Cas would drift away.
So he went to the pie factory with half of his heart missing. As he questioned several workers who had known Kelly Richards, Dean kept wondering if Sam and Cas were talking about him. Maybe they were discussing what had occurred in the café the day before, how Dean would have rushed things between the two of them if Cas was a woman. How he had cried and exposed his flaws wide open. His wounds. Sam had always understood his wounds. But he didn't know whether to feel relieved or angered by the relationship his brother and the man he loved shared. Because before Dean had become so intimately involved with Cas, the other man used to always confide in Sam.
He cried on Sam's shoulder. He ran to him whenever he needed to be comforted. Because Sam had been beaten by depression and hurt and pain. His brother was the only one who could shelter Cas in those dark moments. Like when Dean himself had fallen down into a pit of nothing. Of feeling the worst kind of pain. Sam understood every second of not being able to breathe. Now as he made mental notes whilst talking to an elderly lady about Kelly's murder, Dean felt ashamed of himself for really questioning the bond between his brother and Cas.
"She never got too close to anyone," Jenny Jenkins frowned whilst sorting through many flattened boxes labelled and ready for the factory belt. "She always had her walls up and I kept asking her to at least go out with the others. Have a few drinks with them but Kelly never did. She was more invested in pushing people away than forming a bond, you know?"
Dean shrugged and avoided eye contact. He pretended to survey the factory as workers bobbed here and there along the assembly line.
"When she met that boyfriend though, she was lost in her own world. Used to make mistakes on the line. She worked in packaging like me. Right over there," Jenny pointed not too far from where they stood and her blue eyes saddened. "A few times she didn't fix the boxes right, and the pies slide right out during transport. Love does funny things to people."
"Tell me about it," Dean didn't realize he had voiced his thoughts until Jenny squeezed his arm. "I mean," he swallowed, "from what I've heard…"
"Honey, being in love is nothing to be ashamed of," the woman who reminded him of Angela Lansbury smiled, "it's the scariest feeling of all. But I'll let you in on a little secret. If it doesn't hurt or it doesn't make you crumble, then it isn't worth it. And it seems like you're having doubts."
"I'm that easy to read?" he asked in a softer tone, wondering where the hell the touch Dean Winchester had disappeared these past few weeks.
"You keep knitting your eyebrows like you're trying to sort through a million doubts inside of your mind," Jenny offered a sympathetic look. "Do you love her?" she asked in all sincerity as the hum of the assembly line filled the factory. The smell of pies couldn't even muffle his feelings at that point.
"I love…him," he corrected, appearing bashful and fearing her judging looking. But instead, when his eyes met hers, all Jenny had to offer as the softest look in return.
"Does he love you?" she wrapped an arm around his shoulder like a mother would comfort her son.
"He really does," Dean smiled and nodded, his eyes burning from holding back the tears.
"Then honey, nothing else matters," Jenny simply said.
"I'm scared that I'll lose him," he admitted, "or he'll leave me when he sees me for who I really am."
"When I first fell in love with my husband, I didn't know that he was a Russian spy," she confided in him as the bell rang throughout the factory signaling home time. "For months we dated and I loved him completely until I found out a year after that he used to be assigned to kill terrorists. When I found out though, I wasn't upset because of who he was. I was upset because he didn't tell me. And once you start telling each other everything, you wouldn't set yourself up for disappointments.
Love doesn't have boundaries, honey. That much has been proven to you so far. What love has is an endless space to welcome all the hurt, the pain, the fears and the doubts. I lost Terry two years ago," Jenny smiled. "But because my heart is filled with him, I can keep on living with just enough of him to get me through every single day. All you need to do is stick to it through the good and bad."
He hugged her.
At first, it didn't matter to him because the gesture came so easily. But then when she squeezed him back inside of her arms, Dean felt slightly ashamed of himself for clinging to someone. She didn't feel like a stranger though. Not really. Jenny felt like someone he could trust and could love. And when they exchanged numbers and she asked him to call her every now and again, he promised that he would because Dean really felt like they connected.
Maybe half an hour later when he was safely tucking the three boxes of pies she had given him into the backseat, Dean finally realized why he probably welcomed Jenny's comfort so easily. And when he remembered, he sunk into the front seat, pinched the tip of his nose, eyes shut, and he cried softly from missing Mary. In her last moments on earth, she was ready to embrace him for who he really was. For how he felt about Cas. And when he remembered the conversations, Dean missed her so much.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Mary smiled, ruffling his hair as Sam tumbled around in the kitchen for spoons so that they could devour their bowls of chicken soup. "I need a confession."
"Mom, come on," he ducked his head and blushed deeply. "I'm not going to talk about that right now."
"You…love…him," she teased slowly, arms folded on the map table in the War Room. "It's just three words, Dean. But it means so much. And I want you to admit it to yourself."
After a while, he sighed because she couldn't stop looking at him from across the table. Sammy's tumbling had stilled and his footsteps padded upon the floor as he came towards them.
"Say it, Dean," Mary glanced at Sam. "Thanks," she collected a spoon. "Go on."
"Say what?" Sam wanted to know, shifting his eyes to his brother.
Dean, however, was trying to calm the butterflies within his chest. And after using the spoon to lightly caress the noodles in his soup, he inhaled deeply.
"I…love him," he said softly, cleared his throat and dug his spoon into the bowl.
"You love who?" Sam fished. "Doctor Sexy? Dude everyone knows that by now." But when his brother simply would not confirm the statement, Sam silently wondered and wondered. And when his eyes met his mother's, a look passed between them until Sam was speechless. "Wait…Cas?"
Mary smiled back and sipped from her spoon.
"Like I said," Sam nudged his brother as Dean appeared constipated, probably fearing that he would be judged, "dude, everyone knows that by now."
"Really?" Dean stared at him in awe, "you knew?"
"Come on, man," Sam scowled. "like forever. You're always bickering like a married couple."
"Shut your face," Dean scowled back.
Mary laughed as the two of them focused on their soups and pretended to hate each other.
Kelly Richards' mother kept pouring tea for both of them and offering up butter cookies, that by the time they left her house, Sam was having a tummy ache. Cas, on the other hand seemed warmed up like the teapot resting on the table.
"Dude, quit it, man," the younger Winchester scowled at his best friend munching on a few more cookies that he had nestled in the pocket of his trench coat. "I've had enough of cookies for a year."
"So," Cas chewed faster and ignored the comments whilst they walked to the diner to meet Dean for lunch, "Kelly was cheating on her boyfriend with Miranda's boyfriend…"
"Who is John McKinnon, the other victim," Sam had a headache from the links in the case. "So Kelly was the first victim, then we had John, then Miranda."
"Don't forget Eddie," Cas collected another cookie and began to nibble on it.
The younger Winchester sighed. "Eddie fell off a building on a construction site. Witnesses confirmed that he slipped so there's no foul play there. He's out of the picture."
"My head hurts," Cas complained in his gravelly voice.
"Hell, mine too," Sam shared the same feeling. "My belief is that the shifter has no connection to any of them. Just a random thing. And whoever the shifter is now, we just need to find out."
The two of them sat at a table in Nicky's Diner for almost an hour before Cas realized that something was terribly wrong. Dean hadn't showed up, he wasn't answering his phone and every single minute that passed by, Cas literally felt like he was dying inside.
"I don't get it," Sam frowned as the call went to voicemail again, "he said he would be here. He was on his way when we talked."
"Dean is never more than half an hour late," Cas mentioned, leaving his chicken puff untouched on the plate. He kept staring outside, anticipating the arrival of the Impala.
Sam sighed. He collected his V8 and sipped. "Maybe he's stopped somewhere to eat his pies. He said some old lady gave him like three."
Cas, however, was dangerously quiet beside him. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong and he could feel that somewhere between the distance he and Dean shared, something had happened. All the years that they shared a profound bond, Sam never could understand what that meant exactly. No one could except the two of them and most times, Dean failed to realize that wherever he was, and whatever he was experiencing, Cas felt the aftereffects like tremors from a natural disaster. Now, he was entirely certain that wherever Dean was, he was being tortured.
The pain. The way his heart squeezed from some kind of unexplainable bond that love had possibly created.
"We need to find him," Cas rose up from the table quickly and tried to fight the fear swelling up in his chest.
"Cas," Sam watched the other man rush towards the door and jogged after him. "Wait up, look," he caught up with him outside and tugged on his arm, "we need to think this through okay? The last place he had been was the factory but he was on his way here afterwards. I heard him driving on the phone. So…Cas…"
"Sam, I can't lose him," the other man's voice trembled and his blue eyes filled with tears. His movements were nervy, and he couldn't stay still. "Something's wrong."
"How do you know?"
"I can feel it," Cas' voice was strained. His eyes pleaded. "You may never understand but I'm connected to him. I know that wherever he is now, he's in danger and he's vulnerable."
"Okay, so can you sense where he is?" Sam hated that he was asking the impossible. Or what seemed like it.
But ten minutes after driving around the small town in a taxi, they spied the Impala tucked away down the back of a driveway and immediately the two of them leapt out. Cas leaded, but Sam feared that if his best friend allowed his feelings to cloud his judgment that maybe he would run into a dangerous situation without thinking rationally. That's why, as they neared the back of the house and found the dirt by the basement door disturbed by a scuffle, he took the lead.
The look that passed between the two of them presented so much fear on Cas' part, that Sam felt really deeply about the love between his best friend and his brother. He hated that they were in this kind of situation, bringing Dean's fears to life that on a hunt, something was bound to happen to one of them. And as he descended the steps into the musky smell of the basement, Sam hated that monsters existed in the world. He hated that they felt compelled to save people.
What they didn't expect to discover was Dean in the arms of what obviously was the shifter who had taken the form of no other than Castiel. He was pinned to the wall, and the two of them were kissing as if the world was about to end. Sam immediately aimed his gun but he threw a cautious look at the man by his side, wondering what the hell could be running through Castiel's thoughts. And when the shifter heard the click of the gun, it turned around and for a brief few seconds, fear crossed its blue eyes until those same eyes rested on the only other pair of the same shade in the space.
"Dean," Sam swallowed, "that's not Cas."
His brother seemed utterly confused, trying to blink away the scene before him. The zipper on his jeans was down too. Blindly, Dean tried to pull it up, feeling completely embarrassed and confused. And when he realized what had happened, Dean tried to find his gun but discovered that it was missing.
"Looking for this?" the shifter asked in Cas' same gravelly voice, and brandishing the gun out in the air like a showman. He smiled sweetly at the older Winchester. "I had it all planned out. I would sweet talk you into getting us into bed. Then I would screw you because I know it would be your first time with a man…" he laughed musically to the ceiling. "God, you're such a mess, Dean Winchester. You're so fucking weak."
"Hey!" Sam yelled, anger flashing in his eyes as he took brave steps towards the shifter. "Put the damn gun down. Now!"
"Oh, Sammy," the shifter clicked his tongue, and shook his head in disapproval. "Since I've been inside Dean's head, I've learned so much. Like how he's jealous of your bond with his boyfriend."
Cas immediately noticed that Dean was slumping against the wall, almost as if he had been drugged. Those emerald eyes gazed back into blue ones…dazed and filled with tears. Dean was ashamed. He was feeling entirely ashamed of what had happened, the state he was in and Cas feared that the shifter had taken something much more personal from him. Something intimate. Something that Dean was struggling to come to terms with. And when Cas suddenly felt the pain rise up inside of him as anger clouded his judgment, he acted impulsively, just as Sam had feared.
The angel blade sliced the distance between him and the shifter and in less than a second, found the back of the shifter's neck. But nothing happened. And feeling the penetration on his person, the creature cocked the gun, aimed it at Dean but before he could fire, Sam pumped four bullets into his skull, blowing the shifter's mind literally. And Dean, obviously shaken from the scene that had unfolded, crumpled to the floor and couldn't quite catch his breath.
"Dean!" Cas raced towards him, stooped and held the hunter's face between his hands. His blue eyes searched green ones. "Are you hurt?"
"Not…really."
"Did he…" Cas immediately wanted to know, imploring and fearing the worst. He lightly caressed the other man's right cheek and wiped away the tears.
Dean shook his head and avoided eye contact.
"Did he force you to –"
"No," Dean said softly. He swallowed and looked away. "We didn't go that far."
"Dean, I…"
"Just…" weakly pushing himself up, the hunter bit back the tears. "…let's get out of here."
Now though as they pooled into the car and Cas tried to hold him, he reflexively shrugged him off. Then huddling into a corner in the backseat, Dean's eyes leaked tears without shame because he was terribly confused.
He remembered receiving the phone call. They had exchanged such honest words. Cas asked to meet him and then they shared slices of pie together in the front seat. He couldn't remember what they had talked about because the trauma that came afterwards was too much to process all at once. The way Cas had come on to him so strong, he felt dangerously pleased and yet considerably fearful about the two of them going all the way. Touching him. Unzipping his pants. Jerking him off until he folded into defeat. And then, somewhere in between, Dean's brain was screaming for him to stop but he kept willing himself to go with it because he thought that it was just honest doubts. Doubts about his inability to go too fast because they had promised each other that they would take things slow.
Now, he folded away from the one person who wanted to hold him and protect him, he hated himself for the way he felt. He hated that bad things always happened to him. He hated that he was the vulnerable one who was easily targeted. And maybe if he kept down spiraling a little more, then all of this would be over too soon. And he wouldn't have time to regret any bad decisions or wonder about when they would crash and burn. Maybe he just needed to end it between them before they went too fast and too far. Before they got too invested in each other.
Dean refused to talk to Cas no matter how hard the other man tried to comfort him and Sam…
Sam watched with a heavy heart and tears in his eyes because he was quite aware of how his brother struggled to stay alive. Yet he had hoped that for once, Dean could have something normal that would last without any kind of interruptions. And now, he really regretted bringing the two of them out on a hunt. Dean had been right. You couldn't mix aspects of a normal happy life with a life of hunting monsters. Because just when you were weak enough to fall, a monster would slip through the cracks and take advantage. And that was what had happened to his brother.
"But he didn't do you anything," Sam was trying to explain to Dean after Cas had left the room and taken the Impala to fetch some groceries. They had decided to stay the next two days.
"I know he didn't, Sam," Dean gruffly said, staring at the television and hugging himself. "But I was so convinced…"
"That's screwed up. Man," the younger Winchester wiped his face and sighed, "the way the bastard just played the game so right, just right to fuck with your mind. If it offers you any consolation, I was in the same position a year back. When we were dealing with a shifter. It took Eileen's form and I was so convinced it was her. I slept with it."
Dean smiled after Sam's confession. "Good to know you just admitted you love her to me."
"Point is," Sam blushed deeply, "shit like that happens. And even though it was whacked and Cas knows what happened, he doesn't hate you for it."
"He doesn't know," Dean shook his head. Collecting the beer from the table, he sipped. Then he settled back into the chair and sighed. "We haven't talked about it since."
"How far did the shifter go with you?" Sam wasn't afraid to ask. After all, they shared everything. Well except for what happened between Dean and Castiel in the bedroom.
"Hand job," Dean cleared his throat and listened for the sound of the Impala returning. "Blow job too. I feel so violated. Dammit."
"Shit, can't you think of it as some other dude who screwed with you though?"
"No Sammy," Dean deadpanned. "Because I never wanted some random dude to jerk me off. The only dude I've ever wanted was Cas. And the damn thing used Cas to get to me. He screwed with my mind, man. I thought that…we were…I thought that it was him. It felt like him."
"But it wasn't him." Sam shrugged.
Dean stared at his brother. "That's not the point," he said flatly. "When you slept with the one that took Eileen's form, maybe you could have gotten over it easily because sleeping with her was what you craved for guiltily."
"And you don't want to sleep with Cas?" Sam was stunned, and he stared back at Dean in bewilderment.
Realizing that he had literally exposed his wildest fear to his brother forced Dean to freeze up. How simply the words had slipped out between them. He scared himself.
"Dean," Sam braced himself for one of their talks, possibly one that was long overdue. "Is that why the two of you were so prickly with each other recently?"
Sighing, the older Winchester gulped down his beer and rose from the chair. "I need something stronger. You game for Whisky?"
"Nah," Sam settled back in the chair and screwed off the cap on a bottle of water. He was silently wondering what Dean was about to confess to him. And trying as hard as possible, Sam muffled the assumptions.
Dean though, decided to down three shot glasses of the Jameson bottle resting on the mantlepiece before perching on the edge of the chair opposite his brother. Even then, he remained in a stiff attitude for some time before the light behind his eyes went flat.
"I'm scared, Sammy," he finally said when the Whisky burned away some amount of the doubt swirling around in his chest. "Of all of this. Of being with Cas. Of living this kind of dangerous life and losing each other. I mean, look what happened today. How long do you think he will put up with a shitty person like me?"
"First of all," Sam held up a hand and couldn't believe his brother's lamentations, "you're not a shitty person. Your life hasn't been easy at all and maybe that makes you stronger than anyone else I know. But Dean, you've been pushing through the pain and the hurt all these years. I don't understand how you could see yourself as anything less than a freaking hero. All this time, you've been changing and you've been hanging on. And I've been watching you, Dean. Being you isn't easy at all. And finding out that you have feelings for your best friend…" Sam shook his head and appeared stunned. "That's not easy."
"Thanks," Dean nudged Sam's boot and forced out a smile. "It's not easy to wake up and realize you're in love with a dude."
"So that's what's bothering you," Sam sent his brother a puppy look. "The fact that Cas is a dude."
Dean glanced away and hated that he couldn't talk about it easily. "I mean, I don't even know what to expect in terms of…you know. And it scares me because he's so open to anything and I try to allow his behavior to be contagious, but it doesn't seem as if I'm comfortable with the idea of going…further."
"This feels like déjà vu," Sam said softly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. "Remember I had a friend in high school back when we were in New Jersey for a couple of months? Freddy?"
"The one everyone called Krueger?" Dean blinked and tried to still his heart. "Yeah I remember the kid."
"Well he was gay. And before you jump to conclusions, no he didn't have the hots for me but he was seeing another boy. I mean, at the time I didn't have any idea what it took to make out with another guy so Freddy and I spent our library time researching stuff."
"Really, Sammy?" Dean was impressed by his brother's open mind. "The two of you looked for books about sex?"
"Well it was not like I felt comfortable with it, but he was my best friend," Sam admitted softly. "And he was where you're at right now, terrified about sleeping with Dave –"
"Wait, hold up," Dean stared in disbelief, "Dave's…gay?" This was the same guy that had asked for their help on a case recently.
"Last time I checked," Sam smiled at his brother's expression. "What can I say, I have a few gay buddies."
"Explains a lot to be honest," the other Winchester teased.
"Anyway," Sam ignored his brother's directness, "I'll tell you exactly what I told Freddy back then. It doesn't have to do with biology when you're in love with someone. Women's first times are most times painful but it's part of nature. I'm not saying that it shouldn't be a big deal but it's something that comes second when love comes first. If you love someone, having sex with them is supposed to be about exploring each other's needs and being comfortable enough to go the extra mile."
Dean was sinking into the chair because he loathed sex talk, especially when he was an involving party in the discussion.
"Cas would never hurt you, Dean," Sam held his brother's gaze. "He would never do anything you didn't like and if you aren't comfortable, you have the right to say something about it. I'm not sure how far you two have gone but just as much as sex with a woman used to be a good experience for you, I'm pretty sure that the same applies to when you'll have your first time with Cas. Dude, for crying out loud, he's so in love with you and you're so in love with him, when the feelings take over, you're not even going to be conscious of anything else."
For a long time, Dean sat there and mulled over Sam's words. He absorbed them and treasured them and his brother even more, because he understood how uncomfortable the conversation must be. But Sam cared about him more than the feeling of being uncomfortable.
"I don't think I have to explain to you how going all the way with a guy works," Sam considered Dean's demeanor and frowned over the constipated look. "Like what goes where."
"No," the older Winchester shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I know what goes where. But does it have to get that far?"
"Huh," Sam thought about it and shrugged. "Depends on what the two of you want."
"I don't want…that…" Dean sounded so soft.
"That's the fear talking."
"Sam, it's like my first time all over again."
"And wasn't your first time memorable?"
"Yeah but I wasn't on the receiving end…"
Sam was impressed. "So, you are a bottom, aren't you? I knew it!" He pounded the air with his fist and beamed at his brother.
"Dude, I'm not. I'm just saying…" Dean sighed. "Look, forget it." Curling up on the chair, he scowled at the window.
"No, look, okay," Sam suddenly hated himself for cracking a joke in the most awkward time of their conversation, "fine. I'm sorry that I assumed that. Geez, why the hell would I even joke about that. I know that you're not taking this lightly."
"I'm not," Dean sounded wounded. He hugged himself. "I'm just trying to say that when the time comes, it will happen. And like you said, I shouldn't worry about it too much because how I feel will take over and it wouldn't be uncomfortable. But I don't know why I feel so weird out about it. Like it's something big…"
"Dean, it is something big," Sam's eyes widened. "And maybe this is affecting you so much because it's not a one-night stand. Your first time with a guy will be with your best friend. You're probably more frightened about not doing the right thing or not knowing what to do. And then you can't run away afterwards because the two of you are in a relationship. But Dean, I'm pretty certain that Cas would never judge you."
"But Sammy, what if he sees me under my clothes and he realizes that he doesn't want me anymore?"
"Dude, has anyone ever turned you down because of your body?" Sam was being blunt. He stared back at his brother and wondered how in the world Dean could ever be so insecure about his looks. "You're freaking handsome. Since I was younger, I always told you that you pulled all the good looks from the womb. Man, look at yourself in a mirror. Cas would never turn you down. And besides, over the years when Cas and I talked, he always marveled over how you are most attractive human he has ever met. Sometimes I used to get jealous because I'm sitting there like, hey, I have the flawless hair." To place emphasis, Sam raked his fingers dramatically through his locks.
Dean, on the other hand, sighed. He studied a moth fighting behind the window glass and wondered if his heart was trying to fight through the walls he had built up.
"Thanks, Sammy," he finally said, arms folded.
His brother shrugged. "It's my lifetime duty to pull you up and look you after. Just as much as you always do the same for me."
"Do you think that Cas would still like me if he knew about my past though, Sammy?" Dean suddenly asked, his voice so wounded that Sam had to fight to stay focused.
"Which part of your past, Dean?"
"The part where I tried to kill myself two times and you had to save me," Dean swallowed and yet he couldn't make eye contact. "Remember that?"
"How could I ever forget?" Sam stared at his brother and worry was beginning to seep into his chest. He suddenly realized that after all these years, Dean really never healed from the tragedies he had experienced. "I think that he would want to love you more because of it. I think Cas has already seen a lot of you to be honest, Dean. More than you realize. And I think that he's prepared himself to love you all the way for years now. He's been doing it for years now."
"I'm just…" Dean groaned, fists clenched.
Sam waited. "Someone who deserves to be loved?" he said eventually.
His brother gazed at him for a long time without speaking. His chest was unfolding like a flower in bloom. He sat back and blinked several times as if processing what Sam had reminded him of.