The next morning, Dean woke up late, taking full advantage of having all the time in the world. It was such a foreign feeling to him, having free time, and he felt that using that time to catch up on years' worth of dismal sleep was the best way to spend it.
It was the second day since Dean agreed to stay at Castiel's house, and to his pleasant surprise, it had yet to feel awkward, despite the intimacy they had shared just the night before last. If anything, it made them more comfortable around each other. Dean felt a little childish whenever he would catch Castiel's eye when they were in the same room and look away with a small smile, or when they would help each other in the kitchen, and touches lingered for just a fraction of a second too long.
If Dean thought about it, he supposed he might feel embarrassed and foolish over the whole thing, but the best part about all of this was that he wasn't thinking. For the first time since he left home, he was just letting it all happen in which ever way felt best to him. And it seemed to be working, if his nightmares were anything to go by. Dean woke up that morning in that well-rested way that only comes from a full night's sleep. Granted, he was alone in his own bed- there had been a fleeting moment after they headed upstairs where he thought Castiel was going to ask or make the offer to stay with him again for the night, but to his disappointment, he only smiled after a small pause and bid him a good night- but there had been no nightmares.
He felt like he could breathe.
Dean walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with an easy smile on his face. Castiel wasn't anywhere to be seen; it was almost noon, which meant that he was likely working. After he helped himself to some cereal, Dean decided to make them some lunch for when Castiel inevitably came back downstairs for sustenance.
As he milled around the kitchen, setting a pot of water to boil for the macaroni and cheese, he couldn't help but take note of how easy it all felt. It had barely been a week that he had been there, and already, he felt right at home. Before Castiel had found him, he was working odd jobs just to be able to afford gas for his Baby, blowing through towns before they even noticed he had visited. And now, here he was, in Castiel's kitchen, making them lunch. It may not have seemed like such a big deal to someone who made themselves lunch in their own kitchen everyday, but for someone like Dean, it was a comfort. Such small liberties, like sleeping in, and making himself food in the same house everyday was not a liberty Dean took for granted.
This place felt like home.
There was only one small hitch to the whole thing; just because this house was feeling like home didn't make it one. It was still Castiel's. Dean was only a guest in it. It wasn't like he really lived there, or contributed to it. He wouldn't feel comfortable changing anything, even if he had the desire to. It was small, but it still bothered him, and he hoped the feeling would fade the longer he was there.
When it turned out that Castiel was busier than he was most days, Dean fixed a bowl of mac and cheese and took it upstairs for him to eat in his office, and left him to his business. As important as Castiel's job likely was, Dean hated it when he had to work. He got so bored being by himself. That was another thing he never had when he was on the go- boredom. The ultimate consequence of too much free time. He wasn't used to having nothing to do. Dean liked to be busy, to feel productive. Sitting around that house and watching TV was not productive, and the house was about as clean as it was going to get.
Eventually the only logical solution came to him, and after letting Castiel know what he was up to, he grabbed his car keys and drove towards town.
Nothing settled Dean quite like taking a long drive. It was one of the few appeals he had had when he was traveling, and he always felt that, as long as he had Baby, things would be okay. The long, winding road down the mountain was relaxing as he ventured towards town. He'd walk around when he got there, chat up some of the locals, or take in what the place had to offer. Maybe he'd pick up a few things for himself. He didn't have much, but there was a bit of pocket money stashed in his car that he needed to spend.
He found a decent parking spot and started his trek. Just a few blocks down, Dean spotted the mechanic store where he had retrieved baby when he got here, and he headed over there first, hoping to run into the mechanic and thank him properly for the care to his precious car. When he was close, he breathed in deep, enjoying the smell of gasoline and motor oil. He was close to approaching the main entrance when he heard someone swear loudly from inside the garage, and changed course heading for the disturbance.
A man, closer to John's age than Dean's, was walking quickly towards a sink, holding a rag to his wrist and dripping with what looked like blood. Quickly, Dean ran up to help the man turn the faucet on and reached above him to grab a clean towel off the ledge.
"Thanks," the man grumbled to him. "If you're here to drop something off for repair, I'm afraid we're all booked up for today."
"No," Dean shook his head. "I was just walking around, and saw the garage. Do you need some help?"
"Not with this," the man replied as he checked his hand and winced at the large gash along his thumb. Dean saw him look from his injury to the car his was fixing. It looked like it had been in an accident, part of the side door ripped open. "But if you know anyone who knows a thing or two about auto repair, I could sure use 'em."
Dean grinned before immediately rolling up his sleeves.
"Just a thing or two, right?"
The man gave him a grateful nod before calling to someone from the back. A familiar face came out of the garage as the man who helped him get Baby back walked towards him. The mechanic explained for the man to show Dean what needed to be done, and went to the backroom to fix his hand. After a quick reintroduction, Mark showed Dean where they stored the spare parts they ordered for that model and told him to help himself to any tools he might need. It didn't take long for Dean to be able to pick up on what the damaged car needed after that, and he set to work.
Dean gratefully spent the next three hours working on the car in the garage, so at ease, he didn't even notice the time pass until the mechanic came back out.
"If you work any harder today, I'm gonna have to put you on payroll," he told Dean as he offered him a clean rag and a cold water bottle with a newly bandaged hand. "Name's Tom, by the way. Can't tell you how grateful I am you decided to stop by when you did."
"Dean," he accepted the rag and started wiping his hands before opening the bottle for a much needed drink. "And it was no problem, best way I can think of to spend some free time."
"Well, if working on cars is something you enjoy, and you happen to have some extra time on your hands, we're pretty short handed over here. Be more than happy to consider today your interview. Hell, least I could do seeing as you've put us ahead of schedule."
Dean raised his eyebrows as the offer sank into him. He'd just been offered a job. As a mechanic.
"That's…" Dean started.
"You don't have to answer right away, but take our card before you head out, and give us a call."
Dean accepted the offer and told him he'd hear from him. Honestly, he'd love to have accepted the job right away, but he hesitated. Getting a job here in town would really seal the deal in him staying, and he just felt like he should talk to Castiel about it first.
Nearly an hour later, Dean pulled up to the house with his couple of shopping bags. He found Castiel in the hallway, walking towards the door as he walked through it. There was obvious relief on his face at the sight of Dean returning, even as he tried to hide it.
"Sorry," Dean offered immediately with a sheepish grin. "I was out longer than I expected. I should have called."
"No," Castiel shook his head. "No, it's fine. I was just… I mean, I wasn't sure when you'd be back, so… um, how was your trip?"
As he hung up his jacket in the coat closet, he tried not to think about how worried he had accidentally made his host, who was clearly trying to look like he was unphased with Dean's prolonged absence that day. With his too-recent history of being hunted and with that mad-man still out there, perhaps it wouldn't be out of place to check in from time to time.
When he was finished settling back into the house, he filled Castiel in on his day, telling him the highlights of working in the garage and getting to thank the man from before, stopping just before mentioning the job offer.
"Sounds like you had quite the day," Castiel told him, and the clear happiness in his expression put a light feeling in Dean's chest.
"I really did," Dean said, and the smile was hard to relax from his face. He knew his emotions were in check enough that he wasn't risking a slip up- he had been too careful to keep that in the forefront of his mind the whole time he was in the garage, never letting himself become complacent no matter how content he was. It was harder now that he was back. Maybe it was because he was finally starting to accept that this place was safe, at least on a subconscious level, but now that he was there, in the kitchen helping Castiel prepare dinner, he felt closer to slipping than he had at any other time that day.
Castiel all but demanded he wash his hands thoroughly before he went anywhere near their food, and Dean rolled his eyes because of course he was going to. He dried his hands on the tea towel and reset it on the cabinet when the thought about just how domestic the whole thing felt sank into him. And in the smallest of moments, a small almost vision hit him; one where he had just gotten home from working at his job at the garage in town while Castiel had been working upstairs, and was now washing his hands before they worked on dinner together and talked about their day.
It was more than an idea, it was a possible reality. It was a hope of something he had not had since he was a child.
It was a promise of belonging. Of home.
"Hey, Cas?" Dean turned to look at Castiel who was preparing to chop vegetables on the counter to his right.
"Yes, Dean?" Castiel answered resting his hand with the knife to give Dean his full attention.
"I was offered a job at the garage," Dean told him with a confidence he wasn't aware he had. "I was gonna take it."
Dean knew Castiel would see it for what it meant. He had already said he was going to stay, and while he was sure Castiel didn't doubt his word, that was all it was. His word. Getting a job meant planning for the future. It meant proof that Dean was thinking long term. That he was going to stay at least long enough to collect a pay check.
True to his expectations, Castiel lit up like Dean promised him an early Christmas.
"That's-" Castiel cleared his throat and Dean watched in amusement as he checked his grin and did his best to look like it was just normal news and not like he was overly happy. "That is great news, I'm very happy that you were able to find a place for you to spend your time. I take it you like working on cars?"
"Love it," Dean replied as he went to work cooking the meat on the stove while Castiel chopped onions.
Back and forth their conversation went, simple stories of him working in his dad's garage which turned into Castiel sharing some of the things he did with his dad, and Dean took it all in. This could be his life- this was his life. He wanted to do this.
And for once, he could have what he wanted.
Castiel had always been a fan of the small things in his life. The quiet drive to town, the scenery from his morning jog, and now the small details he was learning about Dean.
It was more than a little obvious that Dean was more reserved than most. He had to keep himself closed off for his own safety. Which was why it felt like such a reward when he shared something new about himself with Castiel. Like the stories from his childhood, about his love of working with cars because it was what he did with his dad, and because he liked to fix things. It may not have been a big secret, but it didn't have to be. Every time Dean told him something new felt like he was being given a bit more than Dean had given to anyone else. It felt like trust.
Castiel was also a fan of the not-so-small things. Namely, Dean's glow. Given his experiences both growing up with a Luministia and going into hiding with one, Castiel understood the importance of keeping their glows hidden- or at least, he understood as much as someone who wasn't Luministia could. Dean hadn't had the same privileges that Samandriel did growing up- he had more experience with keeping his emotions in check.
Which was why it felt like such a big deal to him when Dean slipped, which had happened more than a handful of times since he agreed to stay. At first, it had all been accidental, but after the first couple of times, it became almost like a challenge to him. He wanted to make Dean smile and laugh. He wanted to make Dean so happy that his years of training, that his instinct to reject joy faltered and he glowed.
It always started off differently, with them just talking or with Castiel doing or saying something. Sometimes Dean just gave a small smile, other times he threw his head back with a sudden and loud laugh. It was always just his eyes; Dean never slipped enough for a full glow, but it was enough for Castiel to notice, especially when he was looking for it.
It always ended the same, with Dean realizing with a small start, and immediately stopping it. Most times they both pretended nothing had happened, carrying on with their conversation or cracking a joke at the moment, but the humor would be off. Sometimes Dean looked dejected, and it only inspired Castiel to want to make Dean happy again, like they were on a never-ending loop centered around Dean's happiness.
When it happened again after dinner, while they were working on the dishes together, Castiel decided that he couldn't stand to watch Dean repeatedly force himself to not be happy, not in the safety of his home. He was going to break that loop. So help him, Dean was going to be happy.
"You don't have to do that, you know," Castiel stated as if he were commenting on the weather.
"What, load the dishwasher?" Dean looked at him with confusion. "'Cause we're pretty much already done."
"You don't have to hide yourself anymore," Castiel took a step back to lean against the counter. "I've seen it a few times, you forcing it away. Sammy used to tell me how uncomfortable it made him, I can't imagine it feels good."
"Cas," Dean shook his head as he closed the dishwasher, but kept his back to him. "I already told you, it's not safe."
"It is safe, Dean," Castiel promised him. "You're safe here. My brother was here for years, and we never had a problem."
"Well, I'm not your brother," Dean stated firmly, turning to look at him. Any hint of the glow from earlier was long gone, but he didn't look angry. He looked hesitant, even scared.
Castiel looked at him for a small moment before giving him a small smile.
"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said. "Quite the opposite, actually. I know it can't be easy for you to trust that anywhere is safe. I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to hide yourself here. You can let yourself be happy."
Cautiously, he took a few steps forward until he could rest a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder.
"I'm not trying to suggest you ignore your instincts, or to brush it off like it's not a big deal. I just want you to be happy here. And trust that you are safe." After a small pause, Castiel lightly pushed Dean's shoulder. "Alright, when you're done with your chores, come watch some more TV with me. There are at least eight more shows on Netflix I have to introduce you to."
Dean pretended to groan with frustration, but they both knew Dean loved Orange is the New Black. When Castiel endorsed a show, it had to be good.
He didn't expect Dean to let his guard down right away, but any chance he was given to nudge him in the direction of hope, he was going to take it.
It would take time. But it looked like they had plenty of it.
Dean stayed in the kitchen much longer than he needed to after starting the dishwasher, using the ruse of making popcorn so he could linger. Castiel had already gone into the living room to set up the TV show that they would be watching, leaving him with some alone time to reflect on what Castiel had told him.
He knew Castiel meant well, knew that he really did have Dean's best interest at heart, knew that he wanted Dean to be happy. And he was- he was happier now than he could ever have hoped- but that didn't make it okay to become complacent. Even if this place was safe, why chance it? Why risk putting himself, and now Castiel, in danger just so he could smile a little longer, laugh a little louder?
No one wanted Dean to be able to glow freely more than he did, but if being happy put those he cared about at risk, then it wasn't worth it.
With a sigh, he followed Castiel into the living room, hot and ready popcorn bowl in hand.
Castiel had taken his usual spot on the end of the couch, and Dean filled the spot next to him, sitting just a little bit closer than was maybe necessary as Castiel pressed play.
As good as the show ended up being, most of his attention was elsewhere, as it was known to be when sitting this close to Castiel. Gradually, they got closer and closer until Dean was leaning on him, and Castiel had his arm around his waist. He felt warm and secure, and he closed his eyes when he felt them start to shine.
He hated the feeling of suppressing his glow. It felt unnatural, like writing with the wrong hand, or ignoring a dull itch, but he knew he had to, knew it was best for both of them. He knew it. And still…
With his eyes closed, he concentrated on the feel of Castiel against him, how warm and steady he felt, solid and secure and safe. And that was just it, wasn't it? Castiel felt safe. It wasn't his house, it wasn't the seclusion of the mountains, it was Castiel.
His eyes were still glowing when he opened them, and he turned his head slightly to look at Castiel, nudging his nose against his jaw as he pressed closer. He felt Castiel's hand move soothingly up and down his side. He let it ground him as he took a deep breath, and let go as he breathed out.
It was a soft glow, hesitant and dim, but it was noticeable in the semi-darkness of the living room. He could feel it spreading out over his skin, warm and tickling under his clothes, until it reached the tips of the fingers of his hand that was resting against Castiel's chest.
He waited with baited breath for Castiel to react, but when the seconds passed and nothing happened, Dean began to breathe a little easier and relaxed against him. As if sensing his calm, Castiel squeezed the arm he had around him in a half hug that pulled Dean closer, and reached with his free hand to rest it over the one on his chest. Dean laced their fingers together and let himself smile against Castiel's neck.
