Chapter Seven

The next time Dean woke, the digital clock on the nightstand showed shortly after 5am. Cas was still tucked into his side, but he was twitching in his sleep, his face scrunched up, eyes pressed together tightly. Dean contemplated if he should wake him, but who knew how long it would take the angel to go back to sleep this time, and God knew Cas needed as much rest as he could get.

"Shhhhh", Dean soothed therefore, voice low and hushed down to a whisper. "Heya, Cas. It's okay, buddy, you're safe."

Cas whimpered softly, but didn't wake, fingers clenching down so hard Dean could feel his nails digging into his chest. Before he could stop himself, Dean stroked his fingers through Cas' hair, noticing that his hairline was slightly damp with sweat.

"It's alright. It's just a dream."

Cas' face pressed further into him, Dean's arm automatically tightening where it lay wrapped around the angel's shoulders to keep him close.

"Dean..."

The quiet, too high-pitched groan of his name startled Dean, and he leaned down to check if he woke Cas after all, but the angel still had his eyes closed, unmoving except for the occasional twitch.

"Yeah, Cas", he breathed, hoping it wouldn't be the wrong thing to say, in case Cas was dreaming of- of...

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a second, keeping his voice unaffected and soothing.

"I'm here, angel. You're here with me."

(Angel? What the fuck, Dean?, he chastised himself, thanking the universe that Cas was asleep.)

But to his surprise, Cas seemed to calm, the nails digging in his side retreated as Cas' fingers relaxed slightly and his breathing turned deeper and more even.

"That's good. Go back to sleep, Cas."

Once more he dared to let his hand glide through the dark unruly hair, stroking back some strands that had fallen into his forehead, and thoughtlessly, driven by a sudden need, he leaned down to press a kiss to the angel's temple.

Cas made a humming noise, arching up, and just for a moment Dean allowed himself to think that he sounded content.

His lips still tingled minutes after Cas had fallen back into a deep, peaceful sleep.

~oOo~

Cas woke up to warmth.

Warmth surrounding him, wrapping him up, warmth around his shoulders, warmth against his cheek, warmth beneath his palm.

He hummed, blinked sleepily as his brain tried to get a grasp on his surroundings, slowly orientating itself to find that he was trapped against another body. Adrenaline shot through Cas' veins so fast he felt dizzy, the sudden realization that the warmth was an arm slung around his shoulders, a chest beneath his head, filling his fuzzy brain with sudden dread. His eyes shot open, his body up, scrambling back blindly in an attempt to get away from whatever -whoever- was touching him.

His fingers clawed down into something he realized too late was a bare forearm, it flinched under the assault of his nails, a pained yelp making Cas' head shoot around to find-

Dean.

Dean.

Cas' breathing slowed, his shoulders relaxed, the tension flowing out of his rigid body as his brain finally caught up with the picture in front of him. He remembered now. The dream. Dean gone. Then Dean there. Dean holding him. Falling asleep in his arms. Right where he'd woken up as well.

"Sorry", Cas muttered, nodding to the crescent-shaped marks in Dean's skin once he'd found the brain capacity to make his fingers unclench, but Dean just brushed it off with a shrug.

"Morning, sunshine", he said instead, a soft smile on his face that soothed Cas instantly, a mirroring smile forming on his lips.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean's face seemed to brighten even more at that, but maybe Cas had only been imagining it.

"Sleep well?"

Cas nodded hesitantly. He actually had. There was a blurred memory of something dark in one of his dreams, but he couldn't remember. It was the first time in weeks he couldn't remember every horrific detail from a nightmare he'd had.

Huh.

"Thank you", he said, because he felt like it should be said. "For last night."

"Don't mention it."

Dean did another one of those dismissive shrugs, but was that a blush creeping up his neck?

"Still." Cas smiled, and it was easier this time. "Thank you."

Despite Dean's lowered eyes, he was pretty sure to see the corner of his mouth curl upwards as well.

"So." Dean looked up, a new sparkle in his eyes and a grin on his face, and Cas knew the 'chick-flick' moment was over. "What would you say to breakfast?"

~oOo~

The day started like any other.

Cas had recently taken up leaving his room a bit more, feeling the need to relieve Dean of his dutiful willingness to stand to Cas' every beck and call, as well as the fact that he had to go out and face the world (or at least the bunker, for now) eventually, so better sooner than later. It would be an act of surmounting his anxiety either way, no matter how long he waited, and Sam was still away on his hunt with Jody and Donna, so there was really no better time for him to get reacquainted with the idea of participating in...well, life.

It wasn't like he was doing much. They were mostly doing the same things as before, they just changed the location. Reading in the library, watching movies in the Deancave (Cas liked movie nights more than ever, because he could sit on the couch with Dean however close he liked that day, just next to each other, sometimes brushing shoulders if it made him feel better, always aware of Dean's presence without it being overwhelming. And all the while he would find himself being sucked into the storyline for some time, a welcome distraction from his own mind, even for just a few hours.)

Whenever Dean would cook, Cas sat in the kitchen and watched him, sometimes in silence, sometimes they talked. And it was nice, for a time. Very nice. Too nice. Domestic, almost.

Until they returned to bed at night and he knew he'd wake up in a sweat again.

Sometimes just until Dean placed a plate in front of him and accidentally brushed their arms, making his body flinch involuntarily.

Cas hated it.

He'd been doing better, accepting touch if Dean announced it. Cas had even started to ask for it sometimes. They slept in one bed, for heaven's sake, he'd fallen asleep wrapped up in Dean's arms and it had been fine. (It had been wonderful.)

And then suddenly, the smallest touch of a finger could make his body go rigid in an instant, his mind spilling images that made his breathing pick up and his muscles tremble. It was unpredictable, uncontrollable, seemed so arbitrary and pointless. Above all, it made Cas feel impossibly helpless. How should he fight against something that didn't seem to follow any rules? How was he supposed to control something he didn't know how to fight? For fighting it, he tried, and every time there was apparent success, something would come along and crush his hopes.

Consistency, he thought at some point. Maybe that was what he needed. Pushing himself more, going outside of his comfort zone, regular, structured. Getting used to being touched not when he expected it, but randomly, for that was what he'd eventually be confronted with, that was how life worked. He could hardly risk falling into a panic attack every time someone accidentally brushed his arm when passing him at the grocery store.

And buried deep inside, there lay another need, the wish for different touches, intimate touches.

Perhaps he shouldn't have craved them, still.

Perhaps he shouldn't have craved them in the first place, being an angel.

But then again, he'd stopped being just an angel the second he spotted the glow of Dean's soul in Hell.

It had always been Dean. The source of all those longings, wishes, desires, hopes.

Futile endeavors, Cas was well aware. Dean would never be his the way Cas wanted him to, and he had never desired anyone else's touch that same way, so why bother?

And yet, the prospect of being wholly unable to experience them, if only theoretically... Rationally, Cas knew it didn't change a thing. And yet somehow the thought was unbearable.

So Cas made a plan.

And it went against everything his body told him to do.

It was everything he'd promised himself to never ask of Dean.

~oOo~

Cas had thought this over. He really had. The cogs in his brain had been tirelessly working throughout the whole movie they watched (of which, in turn, he couldn't even recall the title), and now that the credits had rolled, the snacks put away, their evening routines finished and they both found themselves back in Cas' room, in Cas' bed, Cas couldn't contain himself anymore. His hands started sweating at the mere thought of approaching the topic, but his thoughts wouldn't stop wandering there, circling around it and keeping him on edge until he closed the pages of a book he had failed to concentrate on for the last half hour and lay it aside with a sigh.

"Dean?"

"Mhm?"

"I...I need to ask you something."

Dean raised his eyes from his own book, and without further ado, he reached to place it on the nightstand.

"Sure, what is it?"

And here it was again. That look, so expectant, so ready, as if Dean would be prepared to serve the moon on a silver platter if Cas were to ask for it.

Somehow, that made asking what he needed to ask even harder. (What if he said yes? Cas shouldn't let him say yes, shouldn't let him feel obligated to. But what if he said no? Would he even say no to anything? He should say no. He couldn't say no. What was Cas to do if he said no? What-)

"It's...ah. I'm not quite sure how to-"

Cas bit his tongue. He really shouldn't say it. He really shouldn't let Dean answer.

"You've done so much, I really don't want to ask more of you, but-"

"Cas?" Dean broke him off with a smile. So calm. So damn kind. "What do you need?"

You, Cas thought. I need you.

"I think..." Cas swallowed. "I think I want to...practice."

"Practice?" Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. "Practice what?"

Alright, here we go.

"Being touched." Cas tried to sound casual, as if the thought didn't terrify (and excite, and scare, and thrill) the shit out of him. It didn't work. "In...ah. Different ways", he said vaguely, trying not to lose his nerves. He focused on Dean's eyes, followed them as they lowered to where Cas' feet were tucked under Dean's calves.

"We're touching right now, Cas."

(When had he done that anyway? Cas couldn't remember. He shouldn't have done that, not without asking. Not without a reason. It looked so...easy.)

He hadn't even been aware of the touch before Dean drew his attention to it, and now his skin seemed to be burning at the contact. Just for a second, he had to suppress the need to draw away. If Dean noticed his legs shifting, he didn't let it show.

Cas sighed, closed his eyes for a second.

Okay, Dean didn't get it.

"Yes, I know."

"You've made really amazing progress, you know that?"

Cas blinked. The unexpected remark caught him off guard, but there was a spark of pride in Dean's eyes when he looked at him, and strangely, that seemed to be the exact thing he'd needed to scratch his bravery together.

"Thank you, Dean. But I couldn't have done it without you."

He attempted a quick, genuine smile, but made sure to continue before Dean could object the way Cas was sure he was about to when the hunter opened his mouth.

"And that's why I needed to ask if you'd be willing to try what I have in mind", he rushed to go on, sighing deeply to win time and order the words before they left his mouth.

"I'd like to go further", he admitted then, watching Dean's expression. "You've only been touching me when I...was unwell. (When I was lost. When I was drowning.) And I was always prepared. And it has been really helpful, but I don't- I'm not sure it's enough. I don't want to flinch every time someone touches me unannounced", he tried to explain. "Maybe you could start and...try to touch me from time to time? Just little things when I don't expect it. Brush my arm maybe. Pat my shoulder, I don't know. And don't stop just because it startles me. It might take time, but...I hope I'll get used to it again, if we just keep going."

"Yeah." Dean still seemed confused, hesitant, but he nodded. "Yeah, sure. I can do that."

"That's...not all. Dean, I-"

Cas swallowed, closed his eyes for a second. He'd played this through in his head the whole day, but all the rehearsed lines seemed to have disappeared from his mind.

"I always liked being touched, you know?", he finally said when his eyes opened. "I found it...comforting. I find this comforting, here, right now." He shifted his toes stuck underneath Dean's legs, and maybe he saw a little smile on Dean's face there.

"And I...I hate that I can't-"

That I can't touch you the way I want to. That I can't seem to let you touch me. That I need to use this as an excuse to make you touch me at all.

"I hate that my body doesn't react to touch the way I want it to. It's very...frustrating, to say the least."

Dean nodded.

"I'm sorry."

Of course that's what Dean would say. Cas' chest contracted painfully. Of course Dean would apologize. It was the furthest from Cas' intentions, making Dean feel even more guilty than he already did. He didn't blame Dean, and it pained him that Dean was clearly blaming himself, but he knew that there was no point in arguing right now.

Dean always constructed a reality where he was at fault. And the only way of convincing his stubborn head otherwise would have been to admit that Lucifer must have found out about Cas' feelings, his deepest desires, and used it to-

But he couldn't. He couldn't. Dean could never know. Cas hated himself for staying silent, for being so selfish to leave Dean in the dark, guilty and ashamed, just so Cas could keep him and his friendship.

And as if that hadn't been enough, here Cas was now, about to demand even more of Dean he had no claim to.

He didn't deserve him.

He couldn't let him go.

"I know you are", he just replied, the words fighting their way out against his better judgment, selfish and greedy. "But that's not the point I'm trying to make. Dean, I don't want to go through life missing out on any touches I might have been able to enjoy if- you know."

If it hadn't happened. If he hadn't happened. If he hadn't found out about me and my-

"And I know, I know it's a lot to ask of you, but I can't do it on my own. I need- I need you, Dean."

The desperation clawed its way out of his chest, turned his words hurried and his eyes pleading.

He could hear his blood rushing in his ears, felt his chest rising and falling with his too heavy breathing while he waited for Dean's reaction. But the hunter's face stayed blank, giving away nothing of the possible emotion behind. When he finally opened his mouth, his voice was careful, his words slow and considered.

"Cas, I don't-" His eyes squinted further. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Touch me", Cas blurted out, scaring himself a little, his voice wavering at the reality of how that sounded, spoken so plainly. "Not like we did until now I mean...deliberately."

"You mean..."

Dean licked his lips. Cas tried not to follow the movement with his eyes.

His stomach was twisting, but he nodded.

"I-Intimate...touches, yes."

"Oh." Dean's eyes widened, his mouth opening, closing, reopening. "Wow. Uhm."

He rubbed a hand over his neck, breathing out a steadying breath through his mouth.

"Okay...Sonofa-"

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

"Sorry. How...how far did you want-"

"However far you'd be willing to try."

The moment of silence that followed weighed heavy on Cas, pressing on his ears and accentuating the dull pounding of his heartbeat. Dean's eyes were fixed on his face, and yet he seemed to be lost, staring into nothing while his mind tried to process. It was torture for Cas, having to wait, and yet he couldn't blame him. Of course he couldn't.

"You don't have to answer immediately", he finally said, mostly to break this unbearably loud silence, "maybe just...think about it?"

Dean blinked and breathed out, his eyes seemed to refocus a bit, but he still didn't speak.

"I know this is too much to ask of you", Cas' mouth went on, apologetic and pleading for forgiveness Dean probably didn't even know he needed, "and I wouldn't have if I thought there was anyone else, I'd-believe me, Dean, I-"

"Okay."

Cas faltered.

"What?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded, face calm and thoughtful. "Yeah, okay. I'm gonna do it."

"Really?"

"Course, Cas." Dean made a little shrug, raised his eyebrows. "You need my help? You think this is the way to go? We're gonna do it. Together."

Huh. Well. Cas hadn't expected...mhm. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he had expected. He'd expected Dean to say yes, because Dean always sacrificed himself for everyone else. He'd expected Dean to say no, because that was what he should have said, that would be the reasonable reaction. Either way, he hadn't expected this sort of dismissive acceptance.

"Dean..."

"Let's just maybe..." Dean bit his bottom lip, and for the first time, Cas thought to see a spark of uncertainty, shyness almost, "maybe not think about how far we're gonna take this yet, yeah? We're gonna start small and then...see where we land."

And yes, there was nervousness under the calm surface, but there was also sincerity and the neverending kindness that lulled Cas' brain into a haze and made him unable to do anything but stare.

"That sounds perfect."

Dean nodded again, sinking back into the cushions, and Cas took the first free breath in minutes.

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean shrugged again.

"None of that", he mumbled, lowering his eyes to his hands that started fiddling with the blanket. "Do you...ah. When do you wanna start?"

Cas blinked, swallowed.

"We can start as soon as you're ready."

For some reason, that made Dean smile. His eyes returned to Cas' face, green and soft and serious as he lightly shook his head.

"This is not about me being ready, Cas." (I've been ready for this for a damn long time..., Dean couldn't help thinking to himself.) "This is about you, ok? Your pace. I'm good."

And Cas took one last breath.

"Let's start now, then."