Castiel watched as Dean wandered alone through the park at noon, head bowed as though in deep thought, shoulders drawn up, as though he felt cold despite the heat of the day. The angel frowned in compassion, lips pressed together in concern. He felt Dean's inner turmoil as though it were his own, felt the confusion, but did not know the cause of it, could not determine that from Dean's meandering thoughts.
He sighed, walked towards Dean, caught up with the slowly walking hunter easily, but didn't speak, not even when Dean looked up, glanced soulfully at Castiel's face.
"Hey, Cas," Dean said, voice as despondent as his posture.
"Hello, Dean. What's the matter?" Castiel asked, one hand upon Dean's shoulder stopping the hunter in his tracks.
"It doesn't matter," Dean said, turned away, eyes downcast to the leaf strewn ground.
"Is it Sam? Did you fight with your brother?" Castiel asked, as he leant in closer.
Dean closed his eyes, told Castiel with a simple shake of his head that Sam was not the problem, never had been, at least not in this instance.
"Then what is it? Maybe I can help," Castiel said, gently, rubbed Dean's shoulder through his lethaer jacket.
"I don't think that you can, Cas. Not with this. What you would know about helping people with - " and Dean turned away, seemed unable to finish his own sentence,
"Dean?" Castiel asked, head tilted to the side, brow furrowed in confusion.
"Do angels ever feel love?" Dean asked.
"Of course we do, Dean. We feel love for all of mankind," Castiel replied, still not understanding the meaning behind how Dean was feeling.
"Yeah, not quite what I meant, Cas," Dean said, gaze finally darting up towards the angel's once more. "I meant, love for one person in particular. I'm not good at explaining stuff like this, Cas."
Castiel's lips thinned, gaze diverted to the floor, face unreadable in the fall noon light.
"Yes, in certain rare cases, we can feel more love towards certain people in our charge," he admitted, quietly. "It doesn't happen very often, but there have been cases."
"Have you ever felt - " and Dean broke off his own sentence, as though afraid to follow his own train of thought.
"Love? Yes, but only once," Castiel admitted, as he turned his gaze towards Dean's, expression still hard for Dean to read.
Dean couldn't help but grin at that, before he said - "You sly dog, you! Who was it?"
By the look in his eye, it looked as though the hunter had wanted to say - "who is it?" - but just held back from saying those exact words. The significance of Dean's question barely concealed was not lost on Castiel, and the angel surprisingly smiled.
"I think the other question is more fitting, Dean. Who is it? The person is you, Dean. I love you," he said, slowly, uncertainly, as though fearful of a punch, disgusted words, a rebuke of some kind.
Dean leant forward, caught Castiel's attention, before he gave him an encouraging smile.
"Seriously?" he asked, hope trapped in his eyes, his voice, his very posture.
Castiel nodded, wordlessly, still looked too much like a kicked puppy for Dean's liking right then. Dean reached out, gently rubbed Castiel's arm through his tan trench coat, and the angel smiled slightly at the contact, looked a little hopeful.
"And if I told you I loved you, would you believe me?" Dean asked, with a slight grimace at his own choice of cheesy-romance-movie lines.
"Yes," Castiel said. "You have never lied to me, not once. You've maybe been a little stubborn, but never willingly lied. Why would you start now?"
"Good point," Dean conceded, surprised at the angel's observation.
On a whim, he leant forward, closed the gap between them, before his lips hovered a breath away from Castiel's. He waited, and Castiel took the bait, closed the gap, pressed needy lips to Dean's, proved in that one loaded kiss just how much he loved Dean. There was too much emotion involved in that kiss for Castiel to be faking it, and Dean was lost. He responded, his own feelings towards Castiel apparent in the way his lips pressed hard against Castiel's, the way he chose not to hold back with him like he had with countless women before him, and he knew - that this was it.
This was what he had been waiting for his whole life. Castiel was what he had been waiting for. Dean knew that he would fight to keep Castiel by his side, would fight to not fuck things up this time. He'd lost too much in his lifetime to lose something, someone else now.
And Castiel knew this, realized this because he knew what loss felt like, knew what it meant to him to want to keep Dean forever by his side. He knew he would face anything, even the threat of falling if it meant staying with Dean.
And then there was nothing more to say, to feel except for the kiss itself ...
fin