Cas doesn't know why he is here. It's a stupid idea; he should just turn around and go home before he makes a fool out of himself. But it has been weeks since he's seen Dean face to face and he can't wait any longer.
The two of them decided to keep their distance after they almost got caught together one night. Dean had snuck into the Novak's house (how he got in without being seen Cas still doesn't know) to surprise him a few weeks ago. Of course he was thrilled to see Dean, so much that they got sloppy about secrecy. Their lighthearted argument about which Star Trek series was better got out of hand and Gabriel heard the voices down the hall. They didn't even hear the footsteps approaching until a light knock rang on Cas' door, making Dean dive unceremoniously out the window into the bushes below.
Ever since then they both agreed some time apart would be good to offset the suspicion they clearly caused. Gabriel almost saw Dean's figure falling out the building when he entered the room, and Cas is pretty sure he didn't buy his story about rehearsing for the college musical, saying that the voices he heard were Cas acting out the different characters. Gabe had been keeping an extra close eye on him ever since.
However Cas never thought not seeing Dean would be this hard. It only confirmed his suspicion that the Winchester has become an essential part of his life. During those three weeks when Cas didn't see Dean outside of the occasional Skype call, he didn't truly know how to function. It was like a part of himself was missing, like their souls had been tied together.
He relayed the thought to Dean over a quick Skype session between class and work one night.
"Cas, I miss you too," Dean replied back once Cas got everything out into the open. "And it feels like I'm not complete when you're not here either. But you know what? You and I? We've got a profound bond. Even if I don't believe in angels and devils, or maybe even God himself, I believe in us. Just hold on to that okay?"
And so Cas did; he held on to that thought throughout a whole week before he simply couldn't wait any longer. He needed to not just see Dean with his eyes, he needed to feel him. He needed those messy make out sessions they had become accustomed to on cold nights. He craved the feeling of his hands running over Dean's slight scruff, the way his almost lover would respond with taking his lips between his teeth, a move that absolutely drove Cas to the edge. He needed to hear Dean's quiet voice, talking about anything and everything. He ached for the deep conversations that would keep him up at night, thinking about something Dean said.
And that is how Cas ends up right where he stands now, on the cold, murky ground outside the Winchester's beaten down apartment building, shivering in the frigid April night. The street is filthy and Dean's Impala is easily the nicest car on the block. Smoke billows out from a factory a few doors down, filling the entire alleyway with thick smog. All the lights our out in the neighboring apartments, just like Cas planned. He doesn't swing by at three in the morning just for kicks. He promised Dean they would be more careful, so this is his way of doing so. Nevermind that Dean will probably be less than thrilled to see Cas at this late of an hour.
However, Cas quickly notices a chink in his plan; he has no idea if this is even Dean's window. It looks like what Dean described to him; a trellis of dead peonies lays against the worn out brick, and the window has a slight crack in it on the left side. But what if it isn't? It could easily be Sam's window, or even worse, John's.
But Cas doesn't allow himself to think about that. His body is shivering and if he doesn't get inside soon he may just suffer from hypothermia. He searches the ground for a loose pebble and flings it into the air, hitting the glass with a clink, and hopes to whatever greater forces there are in the universe that this window is Dean's.
At first, nobody comes. The blinds stay shut and the lights stay off, and Cas assumes Dean is probably sleeping like a log. He could give up and go home, come back during daylight, but he didn't come all this way just to leave. Instead, Cas gets an idea that is two parts crazy and one part genius. He walks forward and sticks his foot in the crevice of the trellis, and heaves himself up unto the lattice, scaling the wall with all his being.
Cas would be the first to admit that physical strength is not his strong point; he never could do pull-ups in high school gym classes, but that doesn't stop him. His determination to see the Winchester guides him forward, Cas' hands getting scraped left and right as he grabs onto dead branches and the splintery wood, and they are practically mauled by the time he makes it to the windowsill, hauling himself up on the ledge for leverage.
Hesitantly, Cas tries to get a look inside before he knocks, but when that proves fruitless he takes a leap of faith and bangs his hand against the window, grimacing at the blood his palm leaves behind. His hands truly are trashed, the adrenaline of sneaking out to see Dean distracting him from the throbbing pain.
He hears muffled groans from inside before the bright yellow light fills the room. The blinds rip open with extreme force and shudder against the glass, revealing a groggy eyed Dean in nothing but blue striped boxers and a Van Halen t-shirt. He can't help but smile when Dean's eyes light up when they realize Cas is hanging outside his window.
With a shudder, Dean pries the glass open with a slowness, trying to keep the loud squeaking to a minimum.
"Cas?" Dean whispers, clearly disoriented and confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I just missed you, that's all. Now, can you please pull me off this ledge?"
Dean complies silently, grabbing Cas' arms and hauling him over the edge of the building, tumbling inside and onto the floor.
"I missed you too, Cas, but did you have to scale my building at-" Dean glances to the neon green lights on his clock- "three in the morning? Couldn't you have gone all Romeo and Juliet on me in, oh I don't know, daylight?" Dean groans quietly, pushing himself and Cas off the floor and onto his bed. "A guy needs to sleep."
Cas just laughs lightly, leaning against Dean's frame. "Oh come on, where's your sense of adventure?"
Dean twists to look at Cas with a glint of humor in his eyes. "You? Adventurous? I couldn't even get you to go to that club downtown without you squirming."
"That place was unsanitary, Dean! I'm pretty sure roaches were mating in the restrooms!"
Dean laughs quietly, pulling Cas into his embrace. His soft laughter reverberates through Cas' body, a feeling he has come to love over the past few months. However it stops immediately once Dean catches a glance of Cas' scraped up hands.
"For the love of all things holy, Cas, did you fight a bear to get up here?"
Cas has been able to put off the pain thus far, but suddenly it is like the blazing throbs in his palms are all he can focus on. He is more banged up than he thought.
"Have you ever thought of trimming that trellis once and awhile?" Cas asks back.
Dean shakes his head and pulls Cas up off the bed, leading him towards the door. "C'mon, we're going down to the garage to fix you up."
"Won't we wake your family?"
"You always said you wanted a cat; now its time to act like one. Now be quiet, will ya?"
And with that, Cas finds himself following Dean through the tiny apartment, trying not to land on the back of his heels with every step. He can't help but notice that the home is rather bare; the walls are an off-white with cracks in the paint, and the only decoration comes when they quietly walk down the stairs. Three portraits line the walls; two of them are of young Sam and Dean, while the middle one is of a young Mary Winchester, her eyes bright and glowing even though it is only a picture.
Cas stops and gazes at the photo. He of course knows the horrible story of her death, it was his family that was the cause of it after all, but he never knew her face. He almost wishes he was still living in that ignorance; now she was not just the woman who got shot in the crossfire who was a faceless being. Now she was a real person, and a sinking feeling slips into his stomach.
"She was beautiful," Cas whispers, his hand absentmindedly reaching out to touch the piece. "You look just like her."
Dean comes behind Cas and wraps his hands around his waist, leaning his chin on Cas' shoulder. "It's funny," he whispers, "I sometimes still think she will walk through our front door, looking just like in that picture. Happy, humming 'Hey Jude' like she always used to. I miss her a lot, Cas. I really do."
He turns around to face Dean, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. "I know you do. And I can't ever tell you enough how sorry I am."
"'s not your fault," Dean mumbles into Cas' shoulder before he looks down at the blood painted on Cas' hands and automatically regains focus, turning Cas around and guiding him to the back of the apartment and out the door, leading him across the street to a worn down garage. He can even see the Impala sitting pretty between the small windows at the top of the garage door.
Dean easily hauls up the door and lightly pushes Cas inside, quietly closing the garage behind him with the dexterity of a cat. Once Dean looks around and makes sure they are alone, he wordlessly points at the open chair by the paper-filled desk, waving at Cas to take a seat.
"Dammit Cas, you really got yourself torn up," he says from across the garage, searching through a file cabinet full of car parts. "I'll try my best to fix you up here, but you'll probably want to see a doctor for antibiotics."
"Well thanks, Nurse Dean," Cas says sarcastically, grinning as Dean crosses the room with a first aid kit.
He smirks back and rummages through the white box, pulling out whiskey and gauze. "Sorry it's not the classiest setup, but it's cleaned up Sam and I plenty of times before. It'll work for you too."
"Wait is that-ah!" Cas groans as the alcohol gets thrown on his wounds, the stinging overtaking any earlier pain. "Dammit! You couldn't have given me a warning first?"
"You're such a child when it comes to pain. Didn't you ever get told to rub some dirt on it as a child? Goodness, you're just a baby in a trench coat, aren't you?"
Cas throws Dean an angry side glance, which only makes Dean erupt in quiet laughter. "You are the least intimidating creature in the world, you know that?"
"I wouldn't say that so quickly; you haven't seen me truly angry."
"Oh yeah? And what would bring out the wrath of Castiel?" Dean asks. He holds Cas' torn up hand in his palm, searching for any splinters or thorns in the wounds, but those green eyes keep darting up to Cas' gaze, putting him off focus. Cas has to admit it is a bit ridiculous how after all this time those eyes can still entrap his entire being.
"Uh…" he stammers when those green eyes find his again, Dean's calloused fingers rubbing over his torn skin. "Wha…what did you say?"
Dean giggles (yes, the man actually giggles like a little girl). "Glad to know I can still make you all flustered. I'll have to use that to my favor later," he says in a low voice, making Cas shiver. "But again I ask, what makes Cas turn into the Hulk? I just don't see it in you."
He take a few minutes to answer. What would turn Cas into the Hulk? He can only think of one thing.
"If someone hurt you, I think that would do it. If someone came and even had the slightest plans to harm you, that would bring out that inner green monster inside me. I can't even imagine you falling to danger when I'm around, Dean. I won't allow it."
The other man immediately stops his work on Cas' hands to look up into his eyes. "What? Are you saying you'd take a bullet for me or somethin'?"
He tilts his head to the side and gives Dean a confused glance. How could he not understand? "You sound surprised. Of course I would. You mean the world to me, and-," he hesitates; this isn't how he planned on doing this, but what the hell- "…I love you, Dean Winchester."
Dean's hands immediately still on his, the air ringing with absolute quiet. Cas waits in anticipation as his words hang in the air. He has been wanting to speak those words into existence for months, and now that they are out in the open, he quickly wonders if he did the right thing. Yes, Cas does love Dean, but should he have said so under these circumstances? Was it a stupid thing to do? Does Dean not return the feelings? Was he kidding himself? His mind is racing, and he can feel his heart speeding up as he avoids the Winchester's gaze.
Then, after what seems like years, the other man speaks. Only two simple words.
"I know."
Cas' head snaps up to look into those amused, emerald eyes. The tiny smirk that is playing across Dean's lips makes his heart palpitate even quicker.
"You know? I declare my love for you and all you have to say is a stupid Star Wars reference?!"
Dean averts his eyes from Cas with that big grin still on his face. "What? Isn't that like, the biggest declaration of love in the nerd world? What more do you want? Should I sing that Whitney Houston song and do a little dance for you?"
Cas huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes. "Bite me, Dean."
"Who knows? Maybe I will," he replies back, giving Cas a tiny smile before he once again moves back to the first aid kit, pulling out a thick roll of gauze this time. An easy silence stretches between them as Cas watches the deft movement of Dean's hands as they work the gauze around his own in an almost expert way, Dean being more than careful not to cause Cas any more pain. He gets distracted as he watches the Winchester's strong palms cradle his, taping up the bandages. And when Cas looks down at his now dressed wounds, he feels a pit of warmth rise in his stomach. None of his family would have taken the time to wrap Cas up if he got hurt at home, and even if they did it wouldn't have been intricate like Dean's work. The small gesture makes Cas smile, just brightening his love for Dean even more than before.
"There, just like new," Dean whispers, checking the gauze once more for any loose ends. When he finds none, Cas waits for Dean to return his hands to his sides, but he doesn't. Instead he keeps Cas' hands cradled in his own, rubbing his thumb over the small patches of exposed skin. The sensation makes Cas shiver.
"Dean…Thank-" Cas beings, but Dean cuts him off with a shush.
"Shh, no need to thank me. Just you being here is enough thanks. Y'know, not giving up on me even after all this time. Because I need you, Cas. I really need you."
There. Cas knows Dean isn't into "chick flick" proclamations of love, but he's learned all the different ways he says it without declaring it aloud. Dean admitting that he needs anyone at all is enough of a proclamation of love for Cas. He doesn't need any more encouragement to cross the space separating him and Dean; he gets up from his seat and takes the Winchester's face in his bandaged palms, not even caring that the pain makes him wince, and captures Dean's lips with his own.
Dean's returning kiss is full of fire, all of the grogginess of sleep clearly out of his system. He brings his hands up to meet Cas' face and slides his palms along his jawline, all while biting Cas' lips between his teeth. The inferno of passion between them is absolutely sweltering, Cas can't even imagine letting go of this moment.
However Dean does, but what follows is something Cas could have never expected. He releases Cas' lips from his own, and throws him one smoldering gaze before sweeping Cas up in his arms, carrying him over to the Impala. Suddenly Cas feels the cold metal of the hood under his body, Dean climbing up next to him. Then those lips Cas loves come and entrap his again, and once again that spark of fire rises like a column of light in the sky.
"Please, Cas," Dean gets out between ragged kisses, "Stay. Just stay with me."
"Always," Cas gasps as Dean's cold hands find the skin of his chest, pulling Cas' body closer to his own. "I'll never leave you, Dean."
"That's nice, but not what I meant," Dean practically growls, laying open mouthed pecks on Cas' neck. "I meant…please…stay the night."
Cas freezes. Stay the night? Like stay stay the night? With Dean? In this garage? On a dirty car? Is that what he is suggesting? At first, Cas is scared straight. It isn't like he's some expert at this; his sexual history is limited at best, and nothing close to what Dean is suggesting. However, Cas finds himself…not wanting to say no? It's almost as if this is what he's been waiting for, that final step to bind the two of them together like never before. It's scary and new and exciting all at the same time, so Cas does something unexpected.
Before he even truly grasps what he is doing, Cas is pushing Dean down against the Impala and rolls over on top of him, straddling his hips. It's clear the gesture surprises Dean, and Cas takes the opportunity to lean down and push his lips against Dean's again, letting his bandaged hands roam under Dean's shirt and over his sculpted chest.
"Is that a yes?" Dean asks with a smirk.
Cas only starts to unbutton his own shirt with his non-bandaged fingers in response, then throws Dean a wolfish grin. "That's a yes."
It's the only invitation Dean needs. Cas feels Dean's hands grip him tight and roll him over, lifting him off the Impala. Between the messy kisses between them Dean manages to wrestle open the back door, and lightly pushes Cas onto those worn leather seats. Cas' heart races as Dean sheds his Van Halen t-shirt, leaving him completely bare chested. His perfect form makes Cas blush; surely he can't look that good. However, he doesn't get to think any longer before Dean climbs into the Impala behind him, sliding his body easily over Cas', bare chests touching.
"So," Dean asks breathlessly. "Are we doing this?"
Cas is frightened beyond belief, but his adrenaline only pushes him forward.
"Yes, I guess we are."
And with that, the two almost lovers become lovers, falling into each other.