Needless to say, Dean didn't get any sleep.
Honestly, he felt more energized right then than he'd felt in weeks. His lips mashed against Castiel's again, and again, and again with no hesitation, no fear. It was as if they'd always been like this, and honestly Dean had always felt like they might as well have. He was practically drunk on it right then, the kisses and the little touches and the way Castiel ran his fingers through his hair as he pressed him down onto the bed and covered the hunter's mouth with his own. Dean wanted to give himself over to the angel right then and there, but Castiel seemed more intent on taking it slow. He pressed another kiss to his lips and Dean melted into it, feeling Castiel's weight pressing down against him as he cupped his face with one hand and let the other trail down until it rested in the curve above Dean's hip bone, holding him tightly.
He never thought he could have this. He never thought he could have Castiel - another kiss, a desperate one that tore a whine from the hunter's lips - like this, he never thought they could be here like this, that Castiel was even capable of loving him the way Dean had wanted him too. Every other struggle - they pulled apart and Dean gasped, sucking in as much air as he could. He was greedy with it; more air meant more kissing time - had been so easy to overcome. His doubts regarding his sexuality. Knowing he was falling for an angel. Thinking that he wasn't worth it, that he'd never amount to anything in the eyes of someone as old, and divine as Cas was - Castiel kissed him again and Dean shut his eyes, lost in the bliss of the moment.
But the one struggle he couldn't get past was how… how innocent Castiel seemed, how little he understood about humans and their relationships. He remembered watching him with Meg, seeing him try to understand porn, learning that he'd had sex with April. All those things had made Dean wonder. Wonder if Castiel was capable of loving like that. He knew the angel was capable of love, of course. He knew he was capable of attachment, fondness, affection. But he'd never dared to let his thoughts venture in this direction. To believe that he could have this. He never allowed himself to misinterpret the things Castiel said. He never allowed himself the chance to misunderstand, to jump to conclusions. He just brushed him off as a weird, strange little guy, an angel, an enigma, something Dean truly would never understand, himself. But that was okay, or at least he tried to make it seem okay, because he still had Castiel there anyway.
Castiel pulled back and Dean groaned at the loss, blinking his eyes open and glaring up into the angel's eyes for a moment, the bright, electrifying blue that never failed to make a shudder roll down his spine. He wondered if Castiel could feel it now, the way his body shivered in response to the intense gaze. They were so close, close enough that he could feel the heat as Castiel panted, out of breath despite being an angel. It only made Dean want to kiss him again more.
"You seem distracted," the angel breathed, and Dean blinked. He held onto Castiel's tie as the angel shifted his hand from his hip to the bed, pushing himself up a little and easing a bit of his weight off of the hunter. He grunted slightly at that loss in itself, silently cursing his own body as he felt his blood continue to rush south despite Castiel's warmth not directly pressed against his front anymore. It was usually easy to ignore when the angel wasn't overtop of him and gasping for air with thin trails of saliva connecting them from their lips, but Dean ignored that for now.
"I'm not," he grunted, tugging on his tie a little. Castiel huffed slightly, an amused sound, but he leaned down to kiss him again anyway. But they parted far too soon - only for Castiel's lips to press against the side of his jaw instead. That made him shudder in a whole new way, sucking in a gasp at the tingling pleasure that raced down his spine in response to the simple touch, and Castiel let out a quiet hum and trailed his lips up a little to press a kiss to the side of his mouth. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, taut with excitement and pure, unadulterated joy at that moment. Castiel pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, then ducked his head and trailed his lips slowly down toward the hunter's ear, moving carefully, cautiously, almost timidly.
"I've always wanted to do this," Castiel admitted in a breathy whisper against his ear, and Dean squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. For a moment, just a moment, he wondered if this was just some kind of vivid dream. If he'd drank too much. If he was about to wake up at any moment just to find that this wasn't real. But it certainly felt real, especially as Castiel ducked his head and pressed a kiss directly to the skin behind Dean's ear, an especially sensitive area; the hunter twitched slightly, his breath stuttering on a sharp inhale as he turned his head to press his face closer, and Castiel breathed out a gentle sigh against his skin, holding his lips still.
He wondered at the angel's confidence for a moment, his steadiness. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing right then. He knew all the right places, all the sensitive areas, where to kiss and touch and even what to say to make Dean melt into nothing but pudding in his hands - and honestly, the hunter wouldn't have it any other way. Cas was still Cas, even with a little extra confidence in bed - right then, it was everything the hunter could have hoped for. He took a deep breath and turned his head, pressing his face into the crook of Castiel's neck, between his neck and shoulder, and pressed his lips against the skin there. He even allowed them to curl back a little, letting his teeth graze over skin, and he felt the ripple effect as Castiel shuddered above him, as his weight sank back down onto Dean all at once and even pressed down a little more, causing him to release his breath in a startled huff of air that quickly turned into a laugh.
"Always?" He finally asked, and Castiel paused. He drew his head back a little, peering down at the hunter trapped beneath him, and Dean managed to form a cocky grin back up at him. The angel tipped his head slightly, raising his eyebrows, then pulled up and away all too suddenly; Dean felt… he felt cold, he felt lost, as all the weight lifted off of him and Castiel rolled onto his back to settle into the bed beside Dean, nestled closely to the hunter above the blanket. Dean took a moment to admire him, stretched out on the left side of his bed with the bright light of the lamp bathing him in an almost ethereal glow. Despite himself, he couldn't help but chuckle. Castiel looked over at him as the hunter pushed himself to sit up, then splayed his arm out over the pillow beside him in a clear invitation, and Dean wasted no time settling down beside him.
Castiel held him close, a firm arm wrapped around him, and Dean once again turned his head so he could press his face into the crook of the angel's neck while Castiel pressed his mouth to the top of his head, a soft, tender touch, and rubbed his arm as he whispered back, "always."
Dean stretched an arm over him, cautious. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Castiel laughed. Dean didn't get it. "Why didn't you?"
"I spent all this time thinking…" He stopped, and Castiel craned his neck slightly to glance down at him, eyebrows furrowing, and Dean heaved out a quiet sigh. He moved his head back a little and felt Castiel's hand come up in response, cradling the back of his neck. He rested his head back against the angel's palm after a moment, studying him before he continued, "I spent all this time thinking there wasn't a chance. That you couldn't…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
"Love you?" Castiel sounded somewhat dubious now. Dean could see that look on his face, that look that meant the angel was about to tear into him for his self-deprecating habits. Except this time Dean actually had a valid reason to stop him from doing so - because that wasn't the case.
"Love," he admitted, and suddenly he felt a little silly - and a little dickish - for even thinking that. But then he remembered Anna, how she had to fall in order to feel. He remembered her words, describing the angels. All her reasons for falling. Loyalty. Forgiveness. Love. He remembered falling back on those words every time his doubts started to rise, every time he thought maybe there was something more in the way Castiel looked at him, the way he spoke to him and the things he said. He fell back on those words every time he started to think there was something deeper in this… this profound bond they shared, because those words were the only thing he had to remind him that he couldn't risk it, he couldn't risk falling for an angel, getting hurt.
When Castiel had become human, lost his grace… when he'd had sex with April… Dean had allowed himself a shred of hope. Wondered if this was it, if this was what it would take. But then there was everything with Gadreel. Then there was that woman he'd started crushing on when he was working at the Gas-N-Sip. Dean had started to wither then, his hopes fading as he began to realize that even when Castiel was capable of love, he wasn't capable of… loving him. His hopes faded, but they didn't diminish completely. As long as he could love, there was hope.
And even that hadn't lasted. Suddenly, Castiel was an angel again, and suddenly there wasn't anything left. Dean was tired of hoping, tired of pining. It made him feel stupid, like some lovesick teenager. So he tried to shut it down altogether, falling back into the familiar, steady rhythm of simply dismissing his thoughts and feelings. And he fell back on those words Anna had said to him, backed up by the proof of her betrayal the moment she'd gotten her Grace back. Angels weren't capable of loving, not completely, not like that. The hunter grimaced, drawn out of his thoughts as Castiel pulled him even closer, with a disgruntled expression on his face. His blue eyes didn't move from Dean's, but it took him a moment to meet his gaze again.
"You thought," the angel began slowly, "that I couldn't… love."
Dean grimaced slightly, searching his gaze for a moment to determine whether or not the angel was actually hurt by that, but Castiel looked more confused than anything. So, the hunter shrugged and leaned his head back, heaving out a sigh. "I mean… yeah. I guess… not so much as incapable of loving, but incapable of really understanding what love… is," he grunted.
Castiel shook his head. Then he nestled closer to him, both arms wrapped firmly around the hunter, and Dean took in a surprised breath as the angel pulled him flush against him and leaned in to press a kiss to his neck. A quiet, pleased sound left his lips before he could stop himself, forcing himself to swallow through heavy breaths and the feeling of Castiel's lips against his skin. He didn't know if it was possible for them to get any closer than they were now, but Dean ached for contact, despite already being wrapped up in the angel's arms. Or maybe he was just aching to stay like this forever. Dean Winchester was a cuddler, always has been and always will be. He needed contact, physical affection, as much of it as he could get - but, of course, he didn't go seeking it out. Cas always seemed to know, though, he mused; the touches on the shoulder, brushing their shoulders together, a hand on his knee when Castiel seemed to sense he needed the comfort the contact brought. And this… this was just everything he'd always wanted, everything he knew he needed. He slipped his hand into the angel's trenchcoat and crossed the other arm under his head above the pillow, letting out a quiet, content sigh.
"Do you wanna know?" Castiel asked suddenly, quietly, against his skin. "The moment I knew I loved you." He didn't pull back this time; Dean hummed the affirmative, and felt Castiel's lips twitch slightly against his neck in response. He was actually somewhat curious, despite himself. Castiel took a deep breath, slow and steady, and finally pulled his head back so he could rest it beside Dean's instead, resting it overtop of the hunter's arm and turning it so to face him again. Dean shifted a little, moving closer until their moments touched, and Castiel offered him a small smile as his gaze met the hunter's. "'If there is anything worth dying for, this is it'," he quoted. It took a second for Dean to remember, a soft laugh escaping him despite himself as he did. "That was the moment I realized I had already fallen for you. Emotionally, I had fallen. And I realized you were right. If there was anything worth it, worth dying for, fighting for…" The angel trailed off, and Dean gazed at him, silent. "You were brave. Braver than I was, than I could have been. Selfless, and caring, and loving, and I fell for you. Literally… I suppose I just couldn't help it."
Dean took a deep breath, unsurprised by how difficult it was. He longed to hear more, but he couldn't stand what he'd already heard. He couldn't begin to fathom it all, not right then. Selfless, caring, loving. That was what Castiel thought of him, how he saw him. He didn't understand, and he wondered if he ever would, if he'd ever be able to see himself the way the angel saw him. Castiel pulled him closer, shifting so their bodies faced one another as well, and trailed a hand up the hunter's back to rest it in the crook between his neck and shoulder, rubbing his thumb lightly over Dean's shoulder. The hunter studied him for a while, thinking, then spoke.
"'We're making it up as we go'." Castiel turned his head slightly, looking up at him, and Dean quirked an eyebrow back at him in response. "When you started fighting them. Really fighting them. Heaven, the angels, God-" Dean snorted despite himself, and Castiel even managed a wry smile in response. "That was when I knew you were… you were it. Sam and I, we've always had each other's backs. We'd have gone through Hell for each other - damn, I mean, I did," he joked, rolling his eyes. "You didn't really know us, but you were ready to stand up against Heaven and the angels for us anyway. You pulled me out of Hell, you saved me, you fought for me and Sam, and…" He stopped there, suddenly feeling a little too emotional and embarrassed.
But Castiel grinned, and his eyes seemed to light up as he snuggled even closer and leaned in, resting his forehead against Dean's and heaving out a quiet sigh. "I will always fight for you."
Dean clenched his teeth and swallowed. Sometimes he couldn't handle it, the way he felt. He couldn't handle the emotions that burst to life inside of him, such happiness and contentment and love that he felt like he was breaking and yet mending at the same time. Right then was one of those moments. The moment he felt like his love for Cas just might be the death of him. Even though Castiel knew now, even though they were here, like this, sharing this moment together - he always thought it was just the pain of loving someone he knew he couldn't have, but now he realized it was just the love itself. Love was pain, it was torture, but it was also so, so good.
The hunter exhaled, and cuddled closer to the angel instead of responding. Cas just smiled at him as he curled himself against the hunter and tucked his head under Dean's chin, and Dean couldn't help but smile to himself as he curled his arm up a little, with his and Castiel's heads still resting against it, to settle his hand against the back of Castiel's neck, lightly running his fingers through the angel's hair and letting his eyes slip shut. Right then, he was… he was happy. Happier than he felt like he'd been in a really long time. Happy, content… safe.
When morning finally came, neither of them had slept. Castiel drew circles against Dean's back while the hunter lazily carded his fingers through the angel's hair. He'd have been content to stay like that forever, but as the numbers on the clock blinked back at them in red and Dean felt hunger begin to settle in, he knew they should both probably get up anyway. They didn't really have anything to do, did they? No big bad to face anymore, the world wasn't ending. They could just… they could just be. They could just exist. They could just live, for once, really just live. He almost considered sending Cas to get him something to eat and some coffee instead, so they could just sit in bed all day and cuddle, but he dismissed the thought with a smile and a quiet chuckle that prompted the angel to twist his head around to look at him, blue eyes imploring.
He really wanted to kiss him then - and he could. He could, so he did. He kissed him gently, carefully sliding one arm underneath the angel and heading himself up a little with his shoulder so that he could roll over on top of Castiel instead. The angel smiled around the kiss as the hunter wrapped his arm around his torso and let the other hand brush against his cheek, and Dean felt Cas's hands steady on his hips, holding him carefully as they pulled apart, grinning.
The hunter chuckled, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Castiel's, and closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing and relishing the warmth and the closeness they shared. The happiness he felt was exhilarating. His fears had long fizzled out now; he didn't care about anything else, this wasn't a dream, Castiel did love him and they were doing this and Dean didn't have to just sneak glances every now and again, he didn't have to just think about pushing him up against the wall and kissing the adorable - somewhat sexy - pout from his lips, he didn't have to just imagine how happy he could be. Because this was it. He had what he wanted, what he needed, what he craved. In a way, maybe he'd always be waiting for the other shoe to drop, but right then he just wanted to enjoy what he had. And what he had was Cas.
"I love you," he murmured. "I love you so damn much, Cas."
Cas's lips were still brushing against his own, no longer kissing but simply touching, a sensation that tickled as the angel quirked them upwards into a smile at Dean's words. "I love you too."
Finally, the hunter drew his head back and grinned down at Castiel before finally rolling off of him, dismayed though he was by the way the warmth was practically torn away from him. He was still drunk on the giddiness, though - oh, speaking of drunk, he was starting to get a headache… nothing major, Dean couldn't really remember the last time he'd had an awful hangover and he hadn't exactly been trashed last night, but it was more so just a cloudy feeling, the kind of sensation that lingered in the back of his mind, the 'gonna happen eventually' feeling that definitely promised pain in the near future if Dean didn't get up now to get some coffee.
"Okay," Dean sighed in resignation to his own body, but he smiled still, because at this point it seemed permanently etched onto his face and he couldn't bring himself to fight it. "Coffee time." Glancing down at himself, he realized he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday; he briefly considered changing, but dismissed it after a moment. He could shower and change after he'd had his daily fill of coffee and breakfast. If he didn't get any in his system now, he would burst.
He sat up and Castiel followed him after a moment, but he wrapped his arms around Dean from behind and pulled him backwards just enough to press his mouth against the back of the hunter's neck, and Dean couldn't really bite back the quiet groan that forced itself from his lips.
"Cas-" He huffed out a breathy laugh and turned to swat playfully at the angel, and Castiel grinned, blue eyes sparkling knowingly as he lifted his head only to settle his chin in the space between Dean's neck and shoulder, bending his face slightly to press another kiss to a less-sensitive area near Dean's collarbone, but the feeling of the angel's lips against his skin still did incredible things to the hunter's heart and wasn't really helping the warm feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach either. Even so, he couldn't help but lean his head against Cas's for just a moment, bringing his arms up around himself and settling his hands overtop of where Castiel's rested carefully against his stomach. "I don't wanna move either," he admitted, chuckling, "but if I don't get some coffee and food right now, I might just spontaneously combust or something."
Cas relented after a moment, but not without another kiss before he detangled himself from the hunter, and Dean smirked at him as the angel pulled away and turned to get up. "Very well." Castiel paused and glanced back to add with a tiny smile and a quirk of his eyebrow, "at least let me make you breakfast?" And Dean couldn't help but laugh despite himself, shaking his head.
"You don't have to make me food just because we're-" He stopped for a moment to consider that, staring at Castiel for a moment. What were they now? What the hell did this make them?
"I don't have to," Castiel agreed. "But I want to."
Dean rolled his eyes, but there was nothing but affection even in the way he sighed at the angel, twisting to push himself off of the bed. "It's a nice offer, Cas, but I think maybe you should leave the cooking to me. We don't want another pie incident," he added with a grin, smirking a little to himself at the memory as he adjusted his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair to brush it back a little. Castiel grunted slightly in response, but a smile lingered on his face anyway as he made his way over to the door. Only to pause, blink, and cock his head toward it with a somewhat quizzical expression written across his face. Then his eyes widened and he glanced back at Dean with an almost alarmed expression, and then he just looked confused again as he looked back up at the door, his jaw somewhat slack with surprise. Dean ventured forward a few steps, alarmed, and reached over to his desk to grab one of his knives as he did. "What is it?"
"I don't-" Castiel began, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Your… your mother. I hear your…"
It took Dean a second to react; he felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach, all the air blown out of him, and struggled to suck in a breath almost immediately afterward. He didn't give himself much time to continue; still wielding the knife, but honestly having the feeling he might not need it anymore, he moved forward to stand beside Castiel and opened the door himself; Cas stepped back to allow him to do so, and was right behind him when the hunter made his way down the hall, confused at where to go at first until he, too, heard the voices in the kitchen. Voices. His mother's voice was one of them, Jack's was another - and… and then John's.
"You're tellin' me the Devil himself is-"
Dean skidded to a stop in the doorway, inhaling sharply at the sight before him. His gaze locked on John out of pure instinct, but then they darted straight to where Mary sat beside him at the table. His mother raised her head and looked up, and her exclamation of "Dean!" cut John off.
"Mom," Dean breathed, pupils shrunk. He dropped the knife and rushed forward as Mary pushed herself to her feet, embracing his mother in a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder. He felt like he was about to cry, but he didn't, despite the lump forming in his throat. He swallowed hard in an effort to push it down, reluctant to pull back - but he did so just so he could get a better look at her, to assure himself that it really was her. Then he looked up, toward John, then swiveled his head around to look toward Jack. The Nephilim was standing by the fridges, silent as Castiel made his way over to him, holding the knife Dean had discarded on the floor. Dean didn't need to ask, he didn't need to say a damn word; Jack met his gaze and smiled, though it was a hesitant, timid one, but it grew a little wider as his gaze met Dean's, as the hunter allowed his expression to soften just enough to relay the silent 'thank you' he wanted to offer. He'd give him a proper one later, and a hug for good measure, but for now… for now he turned back to his parents, pulling away from Mary only to hug John when his father headed over.
"Are you hungover?" John asked as they pulled apart, raising his eyebrows at his son, and Dean almost wanted to laugh. That's what John asks, seeing him again. He wasn't really surprised, though - the headache had grown a little stronger, nothing unbearable but just enough, he supposed, for John to pick up on some kind of expression on his face, some look.
"A little," he admitted, looking back down at Mary with a grin. Now he really felt like all this happiness in his system was going to kill him, but it wasn't enough to wipe his smile away.
"I'm just surprised you're awake before Sam," Mary admitted.
"Oh, I didn't…" Dean's gaze flicked toward Castiel for a second, lingering there for a long moment before he tore his eyes away again, but Mary had already turned her head to look. She looked up at Dean again in an instant, looking surprised - Dean's face suddenly felt hotter than about a thousand suns at that moment - then his mother blinked and grinned, and turned her head slightly to look toward Castiel again, her green eyes sparkling with nothing but warmth.
"Hi, Cas."
"Mary," Castiel greeted, smiling slightly. "It's lovely to see you again."
"So this is Castiel," John rumbled, glancing the angel up and down. "The so-called angel."
Dean watched Cas paused, watched him take in the man before him. A cold weight settled in the hunter's gut for a moment, the same kind of feeling he used to get when he knew Sam and John were about to duke it out at any given moment, the dread-filled tension that flushed through him, knowing full well the disasters about to take place. Castiel's smile had wavered, replaced with a serious expression as he, himself, looked the older hunter over before raising his blue eyes to meet John's in a piercing stare, with a curt nod, and replied, "yes, sir."
John continued eyeing him for a moment, then swept his gaze toward Dean; the hunter met his father's gaze silently, watching him. He wasn't afraid of his father. There had been a time where he'd felt some kind of fearful respect for him, but that was as close to terror as he'd ever get to feeling toward John Winchester. A lot of that respect itself had even fizzled out over the years. But he loved the man. He couldn't help it; he was his father. John surprised him after a moment, though, breaking out into a smile as he turned his attention back to Castiel, and Dean let his breath out in a silent sigh of relief as he stepped forward and offered his hand to the angel. "I guess you know who I am, son, but I'm gonna introduce myself anyway. John Winchester." Then, as Castiel stepped forward to take his hand, he added, "so are you two together, or…"
"Dad," Dean started to protest, but Mary's laughter - the sound of her voice, something Dean genuinely never thought he'd be able to hear again - caught him off guard enough to render him silent. Still, he fixed John with a firm glare anyway, but his father's eyes were all for Castiel.
"Uh…" Castiel's eyes flicked toward Dean, but he looked back at John before the hunter could muster any kind of reaction, clearing his throat. "I suppose…? We haven't quite discussed…"
That seemed to be confirmation enough for Jack, though, because he exclaimed, "finally!"
"Shut up," Dean told him immediately, albeit not with any real venom or irritation in his voice.
"It is about time, though," Mary cut in, and Dean offered her a somewhat betrayed look, but his gaze trailed away again quickly. Oh, jeez, he couldn't imagine Sam's reaction… oh, jeez, he couldn't imagine Sam's reaction to this. Actually, he could. He could already imagine the tears and the hugs and all of that crap. Despite himself, the thought brought a huge grin to his face, looking down at his mother, and Mary smiled back up at him warmly. Then, with a knowing expression, she added, "now sit down, I'll put on some coffee for that hangover. You hungry?" She squeezed his arm, and Dean practically melted into the touch before she pulled away.
"Starving." He struggled to keep his voice steady as he followed her command and sat down at the table, unable to keep his leg from bouncing somewhat anxiously before he managed to clasp a hand over it to hold it still. John took his seat again, crossing his arms over the table and watching Mary - and Dean couldn't help but smile to himself. "So… Jack was filling you in?" He asked after a moment, remembering John's words as he'd entered the kitchen as he looked toward the Nephilim in question. Jack was watching Mary, his lower lip poking out in a guilty pout, and honestly if Dean hadn't already found it in himself to forgive the kid for what had happened, that expression on his face would have been enough to seal the deal alone.
"Yeah. Hey, actually," John's voice seemed to harden. Dean despised the way his shoulders tensed in response, an instinctive reaction. Not one of fear, but preparation to carry out an order that was bound to follow. He forced them to relax again quickly, rolling them back sharply as he turned his gaze back to his father. "He said something about Lucifer being here. Is that true?"
"Ah…" Dean stared at him for a moment, at a loss for words. Not just because of the whole Lucifer thing, but because that just reminded him that Adam was there. Adam and Michael.
John's face dropped, even more serious than before. "Dean?"
Dean hesitated, glancing toward Mary. She had paused what she was doing to turn back to them and listen to the conversation, brows furrowed slightly. He knew how she felt about Lucifer. He also had no idea how to explain the Adam situation to her - to either of them, for that matter. Now that he was thinking about it, even, he couldn't believe the conversation had never come up. Something he kicked himself for, for really not even thinking about his younger brother at all. He knew it was Chuck, it was all Chuck, but it still made his blood boil all the same. Chuck's influence or not, he should have done something, remembered something, said something. Something should have been off, felt off, and he was ashamed and disgusted to say it hadn't.
"Dean," John spoke again, a little sharper.
Dean didn't mean to snap - but he did, and he didn't really make too much of an effort to keep himself from doing so. Fifteen years ago he would've said 'yes sir' without meeting his father's gaze; now he looked him in the eyes and said, "yes. Now hold on, let me think," before he ripped his gaze away again and focused on the table, silently contemplating the situation.
Finally, taking a deep breath and shaking his head, he simply decided to be open about it. They were gonna find out about Adam anyway. Lucifer wasn't their biggest concern - hell, he wasn't even a concern and Dean didn't really intend to treat him like one even for his parents' sake. They'd come around to understand what he had after he gave them the whole story. "So, uh…" The hunter ran his tongue over his lips and looked up at his parents again, his somewhat shocked-looking father and his now worried, protective-looking mother. He glanced between them for a moment, looking toward Castiel briefly - who had stepped in to make the coffee himself - and then toward Jack, who looked somewhat helpless, before looking back down. "Yeah, Lucifer's here. Adam's here, too," he added, simply, meeting John's gaze for a second.
John stared at him for a moment, clearly not understanding - then his eyes widened at the realization, while Mary's expression shifted to one of confusion, looking back and forth. "Adam?"
John looked like a deer in headlights. Dean took a little bit of pity on him.
"Adam…" He stared at his father for a moment, then looked up at Mary. He knew his mother. He knew she wouldn't be upset with John for having another kid with another woman after she'd died. Hell, nobody could expect that man to stay celibate, to never love another woman for the rest of his life. Mary herself, Dean knew, had been pretty close to having a relationship with Bobby - if not apocalypse world Bobby, mind you - so it was something he knew she'd get.
Explaining how he and Sam had just left him in the Cage to rot, and turn into a demon… explaining that to both of them, for that matter, was going to be even harder. It was something he wished he could blame on Chuck, but that was a whole other can of worms to open.
"Adam's our brother." Dean took a breath to steady himself, and Mary looked confused for half a second before the realization set in, and her eyes widened as she looked toward John, then back at Dean, who continued quickly, "we didn't mention him because- … yeah, there's not really a good reason to not have mentioned him. I don't know what Jack's told you already, but Adam was down in Hell. In the Cage." Now he shied away from his father's gaze, not wanting to look, to see whatever he might see written on his face. "With Michael, the archangel - he's here too. He's still possessing Adam, but they've got this weird thing going on, sharing control and everything. And, uh…" He wondered if this last part might be a little bit too much, with the way Mary's eyes flickered back and forth as she fought to register the information he'd already given her, but he steadied himself again, cleared his throat and took the plunge. "Adam's a demon."
A somewhat choked sound escaped John, though his mouth was clamped shut. Dean finally risked a glance in his direction, but there wasn't any anger or judgement in his gaze, just shock. Even when he finally spoke, his tone wasn't accusatory. Just confused, worried, stunned. "Hold… hold on a moment. Adam was in the Cage with- you boys didn't tell me when you-"
It took Dean a second to realize what he was referencing, and he couldn't disguise a flicker of surprise at the fact that John even remembered that he'd come back to life once before at all.
"You didn't mention this?" Mary demanded, and maybe she didn't mean it, but there wasn't really any way to make that sound unaccusing. Dean couldn't help but flinch a little despite himself, but he struggled to steel himself again even then, against what might follow next. Honestly, he knew damn well he deserved that. He knew damn well he deserved to be chewed out for that for the rest of his life. However the hell Adam had managed to forgive him and Sam for just abandoning him in Hell for all those years was beyond him - he couldn't fathom that.
Castiel, however, was less eager to let Dean sit there and take the blame, it seemed, because he was quick to jump in. "In his defense, he was being heavily influenced and controlled by Chuck - God - at the time. He made them forget about Adam's existence entirely."
Mary's surprise fizzled out to dismay at once. Jack must have told them about Chuck.
"It's not their fault," the Nephilim added hurriedly.
Dean sighed a little, finally glancing back up at his mother. She hadn't looked angry or disappointed, and whatever was left of the sting from her words fizzled out when she looked back down at him with nothing but sorrow in her expression, pain for the boy she didn't even know, hadn't even met, for the child the love of her life had fathered after she'd died. He couldn't help but wonder how she and Adam might interact, how good his mother might be for him. He could already see it in her eyes now, her willingness - no, her desperation - to take Adam in as if he were her own son just the same. That alone made his heart swell, with nothing but love and pride for his mother; he had to look away before he could start tearing up. "So there's that story," he murmured, clearing his throat. "Back to Lucifer. Yes, he's here, and no, he's not dangerous."
"Son," John began carefully, "we're gonna debate this whole 'the Devil isn't dangerous' thing in a second and that's fine with me, but you gotta give me a minute to process all of this first."
Despite himself, Dean laughed, but he nodded and relaxed back in his seat. He looked up when Castiel came over to him with a mug full of coffee, and offered a smile from the angel as he accepted the drink, and he was both surprised and pleased when Castiel leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth - quick and simple, as if it was perfectly natural - before he pulled away and headed back over to the fridges. Dean watched him, then looked away and stifled a smile by taking a sip of his coffee, and pretended not to notice Mary doing the same.