Goodbye- Part 3
Dean shook himself awake, immediately wiping the dried tears from his face and glancing around. Sam wasn't here, thank fucking God.
The asshole would probably mock him for weeks if he so much as caught a glimpse of his tears!
His phone showed no blinking numbers, alerting him to the fact that Cas was gone for good. He hadn't called even once to tell Dean he'd landed safely. Dean pushed his face into his hands, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and standing. He needed to come to terms with this end.
He needed to stop whining like a little bitch just because some boy wasn't coming back.
He was supposed to be straight anyway! Why was he crying so much over the simple fuck buddy he'd had for a year?
Maybe because Cas wasn't just a fuck buddy. Cas was his best friend; the guy he went to when he was fighting with Sam, or had problems at work. Cas was the only one who understood him inside and out, not even needing to hear his side of the events before nodding and handing him a cup of coffee. They were soul mates, whether or not they were in love. They knew everything about each other and he used to love that about their relationship.
He loved having a best friend after going so long without.
Sam was his best friend before, but Sam was also his brother. Sam was there for him no matter what because they were blood and they stuck together like they had no where else to go. Sam had always been there and would continue to be there for Dean, but he was family and that was what family did. He loved Dean, but Dean was not his best friend, he was his brother.
Cas was his best friend. And Dean was in love with him.
The idiot.
Never in his life did he expect to turn 31 amid kisses from a surprisingly unshaven face. He'd expected to be in love by then (and he was); he expected to have a family (and he did have one); he expected to come home every day to a wife and child who loved him dearly. He had never even braced himself to arrive home to a kiss from a strange man, and no small feet pattering along the ceiling.
But, there he was, sobbing at the foot of his too-large bed over some guy he'd only known for 2 years. Some guy who suddenly meant more to him than Sam, and Bobby. Some guy who loved him unconditionally, and he was finally coming to terms with the fact, that he may just slightly kind of love back.
Dean fell back to the bed.
Was he in love with Cas?
Was he in love with that too skinny, too smart, too annoying son of a bitch with the trench coat and the sea of blue ties? Did he have feelings for the best friend with the messy hair and the textbook hands and the lab coats? Was there something there among the sloppy kisses and the wandering hands?
Yes. There was.
Did Dean want to admit that was the real question. The answer was a soft no, but slowly developing and transforming because he fucking missed that asshole. He wanted him back and damned would be the man who let his pride stand in the way of his true feelings!
That didn't mean he was planning on admitting it. He'd wait. He'd wait and he'd think and maybe-
No, maybe he should act immediately? Should he?
Maybe Cas would take him back, he should really apologize.
He'd introduced Cas as his friend countless times, he'd ignored what they had in favor of standing straight and tall and leering down at pretty girls with fluffy hair.
Damnit, he muttered to no one in particular. Damn it all!
He was in fucking love with that angel with the blue eyes that sparkled with his smile. He was in love with that dickwad who couldn't curse to save his life, and went to church every Sunday even though he was supposedly banned from the gates of Heaven. He was in love with the asshole with the twisty nose and the soft laugh that built with every pressing moment.
He needed to find Cas.
He needed to tell him.
This wasn't over. Not if he could help it. It hurt too much for too long for him to ignore.
He stood up, dashing out the door without another thought otherwise. He was heading to the airport immediately. Only problem was-
Where did Cas live again?