Chapter 5

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An hour later, they were still on the bed – laying now instead of sitting – and Dean just finished the horrible story of how his best friend betrayed him to work with the king of hell.

"I don't... I don't even know where to begin, Dean," Cas said, staring up at the ceiling. "I think 'I'm sorry' doesn't nearly cover it."

Dean huffed, still bitter from having to talk about 'superman gone dark side'. "No, it doesn't."

They were quiet for an awfully long time, and Dean had a hard time fighting down the tears that prickled up in his eyes. It hurt. It hurt like shit to tell all this to the one who was initially responsible for all of this, even though he did the complete wrong things for the completely right reasons. Cas sighed beside him and covered his face in both palms. Dean looked over at him, a bit clueless on how to react.

"I'm sorry," Cas finally said through his hands. "I really am."

"I know," Dean said silently. "But it's over. Nothing possible to change about it. So let's make the best of it."

Cas withdrew his hands and turned his head towards Dean, the glance in his eyes troubled and stormy. "How do you do that? I basically betrayed you, lied to you and managed to get the most powerful monsters out into the world. I fucked up so bad, how do I deserve your forgiveness?"

Dean swallowed. "You're my friend, Cas. Have been and always will. And you changed."

"Sam doesn't trust me," Castiel answered simply.

"I do," Dean retorted, his voice wrecked and broken all of a sudden.

Cas sighed again and shook his head. He seemed lost and unsure of what to do, which Dean could reasonably understand. Trying to offer some comfort, Dean sat up and leaned against the headboard, lifting his right arm and offering the spot to Cas with a wordless nod. The other man got the hint quickly and curled up against Dean's side, head rested against his shoulder. Cas' body was warm and firm where they touched from shoulder to leg, but he shook notably. Dean squeezed him tight, the close proximity feeling overwhelmingly good, and it made the weight of the world on his shoulders seem a bit more distant and bearable.

"'m exhausted," Dean mumbled heavily, felt how sleep tugged at his eyelids.

"Me too," Castiel answered silently from where his head lay on Dean's shoulder, puffs of warm breath hitting Dean's neck and making him shiver.

In the end, they fell asleep like this, and when the headboard of the bed became too hard and uncomfortable, they sank down to the bed, Cas curled up in Dean's arms.

When Dean woke up the next morning, there were several things bothering him.

First, the sun was shining brightly through the window. None of them had closed the curtains yesterday, and the light hadn't woken them for a respectable amount of time. Which brought him to-

Second, the sun was shining brightly through the window. It had to be late morning at least, which meant they had slept for an awfully long time. Without waking, without nightmares. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had a good night's sleep, much less... Well, it had been not after 7 p. m. when they fell asleep yesterday. Which meant they had slept for straight 14 hours and then some. He felt so utterly rested and fit, more than he had felt in months.

But if they had slept in- didn't Cas have to go to work? Dean reached for his cell phone in his pocket, careful not to wake Castiel, and was pacified as soon as he had taken a look at the display. It was Saturday, and Cas had the day off.

Speaking of Cas-

He was laying flat on Dean's chest, arms splayed out and wrapped around Dean's waist, still asleep and snoring softly. The picture of personified peace. Dean didn't know if he wanted to wake him at all. The guy had a history of month-long sleep disturbances behind himself, and god knows he deserved it.

Absent-mindedly, Dean had trailed one of his hands up into the mop of dark-brown hair on his chest, caressing the mussed strands of hair gently. Cas stirred for a short moment, his eyes twitching, but they didn't open. He just shifted a bit, shuffling up Dean's body and burying his head in the crook of his neck, where he sighed softly. The arm around Dean's waist tightened.

And, surprising to Dean, it felt wonderful.

Dean had never been a fan of cuddling. Never. And yet, he lay here, in the warm morning sun, with Cas wrapped up in his arms, and the smaller man fit perfectly there against his side. A sudden wave of affection hit Dean, tightening his chest and making him wonder when this started.

Sam's words rang in his ears. 'You always had a soft spot for Cas.'

Yeah, so maybe he had. So what?

Cas had always been different. Apart from his brother, Cas was his best friend, his nerdy angel that was always there to help him. If he hadn't messed up so horribly during their last few months, he would still be his best friend. But then again, the current turn of events opened paths Dean had thought were closed long ago.

The soft, even breaths of the man in his arms became ragged and Castiel twitched a bit, his eyes opening slowly. He looked drowsy and sleepy. The first moments after he looked around and noticed Dean and the sun and everything, confusion was written all over his face, just like Dean must have looked minutes ago. He didn't shift or scramble back, though, and when he had taken the scenery in he just let his head drop down onto Dean's chest again.

"Morning, Cas," Dean said, his voice rough from sleep, and he couldn't suppress the grin tugging at his lips at the adorable picture in front of him. Sleepy Cas with messed-up hair blinking into the soft sun light while laying on his chest. Jep, adorable.

Dean didn't even wonder any more what had happened to him. Not when he, for once, had a moment of peace. Not even when he thought about another man, his friend on top of that, as adorable.

"Good morning," Cas muttered against his chest. "How long did we sleep?"

Dean looked over the other one's head at the clock ticking on the bedside table. It was 11 a. m. "Close to 15 hours."

A chuckle came from Cas, making Dean smile with its warmth. "Wow," was all he said.

The following minutes were spent with silent cuddling, something Dean would never considered in the least. He had never been the type for it. Still he just didn't want it to stop, Cas' body pressed solid and firm against his. He didn't even have an idea why he was so down with it, no matter how much he pondered about it. After a while, Castiel eventually propped himself up on his elbows, hands still splayed out over Dean's chest. "What do you want to do today? Anything planned?"

"I'll visit Sam," Dean answered, staring into space. "I think I should go alone."

Cas nodded, before he sat up, stretching and yawning. Dean just watched in amusement.

"God, I feel like I haven't slept that well in ages," Cas stated with a pleased smile.

"Yeah, me too," Dean answered, avoiding Cas' eyes. His hand, he realized, was still resting on Cas' knee, because it was still within range. After squeezing it once, he broke the contact.

When their eyes locked, they exchanged a short, but heartfelt smile. "Thanks," Cas said quietly, and he didn't need to explain what he meant, because Dean understood.

"Don't mention it."

Another quiet smile was exchanged before Cas hopped off the bed, his shirt rumpled from sleeping in it and his jeans hanging low on his hips. Dean didn't even want to think about how Cas looked right now, because his feelings were everything but sorted at the moment. There was the strange power that seemed to radiate from the dark-haired man, enticing, drawing Dean towards him. Old feelings of trust and hope and friendship, and the newer ones of affection and... well, the ones that came up with all the physical contact they maintained lately. Dean felt their bond, growing stronger with every moment they spent together.

"Feel free to use the shower first, I'll make some breakfast. Pancakes?" Cas asked.

Dean grinned before nodding. "Hell yes, Pancakes."

Cas blinked shortly and left the room with a lopsided smile.

Dean rubbed his eyes. He really couldn't feel more confused, because as much as he appreciated the – say, relationship – he was building with Cas here, there was still Sam, in the hospital. He had seemed fine last time they visited, but the wall was still broken and Lucifer... Dean didn't trust him being completely out of the picture. He had left his imprints too deep in Sam's soul, and the result had shown pretty heavy that few days ago. All of this wouldn't be over within just a few days, just couldn't be.

He sighed and got to his feet, padding across the hallway to the bathroom to have a short shower.

When he left the room to get some clothes from his duffel bag, only clad in a towel which was wrapped around his waist, Cas poked his head out from the kitchen. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, Dean saw his eyes roaming down his body and back up, and swallow shortly before he spoke. Dean didn't know why, but he found it highly amusing that he could throw Cas off balance that easily.

"I... just wanted to know if you'd like maple syrup or chocolate sauce with your pancakes," Cas coughed.

Dean chuckled at the picture of his utterly confused friend. "First, maple syrup, and second, you are really easy to distract, Cas," he laughed.

Cas pouted – honest to god pouted – and stepped forward to punch Dean's shoulder playfully with his fist. "You can't really blame me, now can you?" he said, eyes resting on Dean's chest, before he turned around and went back to the kitchen. Dean couldn't fail to note the soft swing of his hips, jeans still riding low on his hips.

Okay, so maybe he should begin to get some kind of gay crisis, because Cas... Cas had an effect on him that usually was caused by some kind of hot chicks.

He swallowed heavily and headed for his bag. The only clean clothing he could find was an old, thread-bare pair of jeans and a simple black t-shirt. It was time to do some laundry.

"Cas, could I use your washer? I'm running out of clean clothes," Dean asked when he stepped into the kitchen, finding the other man standing at the stove and handling the frying pan.

When Cas turned around, his eyes did the same once-over again, and he began to smirk. "If that means you'll be walking around in these clothes, I won't."

Okay, so maybe the t-shirt was old and a bit too small by now, and maybe the jeans were washed so often that they had become a bit tight as well. Dean didn't even have a shirt or button-down or anything left that he usually wore over the t-shirt.

And Cas obviously liked what he saw. He was down-right flirting with Dean, and the shocking part of it all was that Dean didn't feel taken aback or bothered at all. He felt rather flattered, if he was honest to himself. "Sure, and tomorrow I'll have to stay inside because I can't go out of the house naked," he said jokingly.

"I don't see any problem with that," Cas retorted, smirking even wider.

Dean poked him in the side before he slipped past him to prepare the table. As Cas was still busy and the kitchen wasn't big, they had their fair share of occasional contact, and Dean caught himself at willingly causing it. When had he turned into a teenager again?

The table was set up quickly, and Dean proceeded to get the coffee machine to work. As he counted the spoonfuls of coffee powder he was pouring into the machine, Dean realized something quite surprising, and he stopped in his movements.

He hadn't drunk a drop of an alcoholic drink for days, and he didn't miss it in the least. Dean's gaze wandered to Cas standing at the oven, who seemed to have noticed him and quickly turned his head towards Dean.

"What's up?"

"Oh, nothing... I just... I just realized I didn't have a beer for days."

"So? You miss it?" Cas' lips were suddenly pursed, his tone sharp.

Dean raised both eyebrows. "No, not at all," and he noted how Cas' expression softened immediately.

"I really appreciate that, Dean," Cas said in earnest, turning back to the pancakes.

Dean swallowed shortly before he asked, "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Cas retorted, confusion in his voice.

"You know what I mean. There's some kind of history there, with you and alcohol. I don't remember you like this."

Cas was quiet for a minute, and Dean waited patiently.

When Castiel had poured another scoop of pancake batter into the hot pan, he sighed deeply. "There was someone in my support group, early on, in my third month. When I met him, he had a hard time dealing with his wife, who was deeply hurt as you can probably imagine. He made good progress during the meetings, and we even became friends. He eventually broke up with his wife, because both of them couldn't bear the situation any more. I was helping him move out into his own place, and he did fine for a few weeks, and then he began to drink when he was alone, just to not having to care any more. We tried to help him, but he skipped the meetings with increased frequency. I drove out to where he was living, tried to coax him into going with me to the meetings, but he wouldn't come any more. The doctors tried to talk to him as well, but to no avail."

Cas fell silent, emotion heavy on his face, eyes shining sad. Dean felt his heart drop at the picture and quickly went over to nudge Cas' shoulder softly with his hand. "What happened after that? Was that all?"

The other man shook his head. "He didn't show up any more, as he said. A few weeks later one of us read his obituary in the newspaper."

"Oh," Dean just said.

"Alcohol poisoning."

"Oh. I see."

"That's the reason I don't drink and the reason I don't keep any alcohol at all in my place. Because at some point during my rehab, I found myself drawn to that as well, just get drunk and pass out on the couch. That way, I was at least able to sleep, even if it wasn't the healthy kind of sleep. After I did it a few times in a row, I was shocked at how it changed me. I was sleeping through the night, yes, but I was tired and hungover in the morning, and I found myself rather aggressive during meetings, and my therapist called me on it. That's when I knew I needed to stop, especially when I saw what happened to Jeff."

His tone had become heavy and worried and Dean did what he was longing for ever since Cas had begun to talk. He stepped towards the smaller man and wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him close to his body. Cas rested his head shortly on Dean's shoulder, nuzzling his nose into Dean's neck, before he withdrew and went back to the pancakes.

Wordlessly, Dean turned back to the coffee machine, finishing the setup and pushed the power button. It bubbled to life and soon, the dark fluid was dripping into the glass pot. Cas was lost in thought, finishing the pancakes in some kind of daze Dean didn't want to snap him out off. He didn't want to talk, and Dean didn't want to, either.

He had to think inevitably of the Jeff he had the 'pleasure' to meet just a week ago. The one that had the hots for a demon. Dean couldn't deny that Jeff had made him think about his behavior, and Dean couldn't exactly say that he had been much better after he had lost Cas than Jeff when he had lost his demon. To say it in Sam's words, he had been wobbly. To say it in his own words, Dean had felt lost and alone and helpless when Cas had died. Sure, he had Sam and Bobby, but both had vanished, in their own way. Sam didn't trust him as much any more after the disaster with Amy, and Bobby...

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat. It still hurt. Of course it did.

After Cas had died, Dean had been numb at first. There were days when he waited for that familiar sound of fluttering wings and Cas appearing behind him. Those were the days he still believed that Cas had survived. But nothing happened, and Dean found himself increasingly angry. Angry that they were left like this, with the mess Cas left and now had to clean up after him. Angry that he had lost the best friend he had in years to something he could have prevented if Cas just had talked to him soon enough...

The anger had faded, and realization had hit him. That was the phase that Sam had remembered the most, where Dean had barely managed living through the day, only managed it with a lot of alcohol to suppress his feelings, because he couldn't handle any of them.

Despite everything that had happened, he had missed Cas. A fucking lot.

Dean had thought he couldn't go on like this, remembered having said to Elliot Ness that he didn't know why he bothered doing it at all. And he remembered Frank, who told him that functioning was all that counted, because he just had to. Then other things had been more important – Bobby's death, Sam's mental state – which didn't make his situation any better, but helped him focus on something else, helped him dealing.

And right where he thought it couldn't get any worse, Cas was there again. And Dean was sure, that come what may, this time he wouldn't let him leave.

They sat down on the table and had breakfast, accompanied by some smalltalk and light conversation. The knot in Dean's chest eased up.

Afterwards, Dean helped Cas doing the dishes and got ready to leave for the hospital.

"You're sure you'll manage this on your own?" Cas said, worry obvious in his tone, from the kitchen.

Dean just nodded, but felt the tension tighten the muscles around his lips. He couldn't really smile at the moment.

Cas wiped his hands dry on the towel in his hands and threw it aside quickly. Still clothed in his rumpled clothes of yesterday, he stepped towards Dean and hugged him tightly. This time, it was Dean's turn to bury his head against the other man's neck, taking a deep breath. There wasn't any perfume or aftershave, just the fragrance of Cas, musky with a hint of salty skin. It was strangely comforting. Maybe because he had slept with that fragrance around him all night.

When Dean pulled back from Cas to turn to the door, Cas stopped him by cupping his face in both hands and pulled him down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. Dean didn't know if he should be embarrassed or flattered by the gesture, but it was too sweet to bitch about it right now, no matter how much Dean wanted to.

He gave Castiel a short, lopsided smirk instead.

"Take care, Dean," Cas said intently.

"I will, mom," Dean couldn't help but retort.

The serious tension was broken, and Cas nudged his shoulder playfully. "And drive save!"

Dean smiled.

"And come home immediately after!"

Dean grinned.

Castiel reciprocated the gentle grin, and this time, it was Dean who shoved back up into his space, wrapping both arms around his waist and hauling him up into mid-air.

Deep, intense blue eyes blinked down at him, sparkling amused. Dean swung him around in a full 360°-circle before setting him back down onto the floor. Cas blinked again in wonder.

Dean just shook his head with a smile. His hand had unconsciously come up and cupped Cas' cheek, and Castiel tilted his head slightly into the touch. They stood incredibly close, even for their usual proximity – personal space was something Cas had never really understood. But this time, Dean didn't even have a problem with it. It felt like some kind of electric current was buzzing between them, drawing them together like a magnet, and Dean felt his breath hitch.

He wanted to kiss Cas, right here, right now.

And the thought didn't even shock him.

He sighed deeply and leaned forward, their foreheads resting against each other's, and Cas shivered slightly under his touch. Mere inches were separating them, and it would be no effort at all to close the gap between them. All he'd have to do was lean forward, push his lips onto Cas', and he had looked at them often and long enough to know how plush and soft they had to be. And by god, Dean wanted nothing more than to feel it for himself right now.

Dean felt Cas' ragged breath against the sensitive skin of his cheeks and lips, felt his own labored huffs, and realization hit him hard all at once. Softly, he pushed back from the embrace, holding Castiel at arm's lengh.

The look in his eyes was confused, and the amount of undisguised disappointment Dean saw there made his heart pound twice as fast as usual. Something was happening here, and it apparently was mutual.

"Cas..." Dean just said, dropping his hands and taking a step back.

Castiel cocked his head to the side and frowned slightly. "I think you should go to the hospital, Dean," he said quietly.

"Listen, I'm-"

"Don't," Cas interrupted him, his eyes flickering back and forth between Dean's, watching him carefully. "I know," he added quietly.

Dean took a deep breath.

Okay.

It was officially time to freak out.

With a last, shaky smile towards Castiel, Dean turned to the door, grabbed the spare key to the flat, and left. He felt Cas' eyes on him all the way until the door closed.