Dean and Castiel luxuriated in the bed for a while. Neither of them knew how long, and neither of them cared. Dean was on his side with Castiel aligned behind him, caressing Dean's arm and side delicately with the tips of his fingers. Castiel memorized every freckle, every hair. He outlined and re-outlined the boundaries of every scar with his eyes, committing to memory the contours of his human's hips, the flecks of blonde in his hair. Dean laid there, letting the sensations lull him into peaceful sedation. He matched his angel breath for breath as the sweat of their exertions slowly evaporated into the air. Finally, Dean spoke.
"Thanks for not killing me," he whispered.
"Do not joke about that," was Castiel's gravelly reply. He nuzzled the back of Dean's neck with his nose. "I could not bear to be at fault in the case of your death."
"Ah, Cas, even if I died, I know you'd come find me."
"Indeed. I would never stop looking, but the guilt would be there all the same. You know that guilt that better than anyone."
Dean didn't reply, and Castiel's breath caught as he realized that something was wrong. Slowly, Dean dropped his legs off the bed and sat up.
Castiel propped himself up on one arm and reached out to Dean with the other. "Dean," he said with a mixture of panic and regret, "that is to say, you know loss. You know-"
"Save it, Cas," mumbled Dean, almost under his breath. He stood and walked over to the wardrobe in the corner and started yanking out clothes and throwing them on hurriedly. Boxers. Socks. Jeans. T-shirt. Flannel shirt.
"Dean!" called Castiel from the bed. "You are a good man!" He stood and made a motion to walk toward Dean, who suddenly turned as he threw his jacket on. He held up a single hand as he shrugged the jacket into place, and Castiel froze where he stood, brows furrowed and head tilted slightly to the side.
Dean pressed his lips into a flat line and gave a small nod. Castiel was obviously sorry, Dean knew that. It didn't change the fact that being reminded of all the people he'd hurt and killed constituted the least sexy pillow talk of all time. "Angel," he spat, "why do you always say everything you friggin' think? Would it kill ya to keep it to yourself?" He exhaled sharply through his nose and continued, "I just need some air, okay?" With that, he turned and walked through the door.
Castiel was wracked with panic. He loved Dean desperately; he couldn't bear the thought that he had made him feel worse, not better. He had not thought past his grand gesture, past the passion they'd shared. Dean was his now, but Dean was also still Dean. Moody, gruff, and still maddeningly bad at talking. He knew that what he said was not… appropriate for the context. But he also knew it was true. Dean wanted him to censor himself in some way, but Castiel did not understand the conditions. He could not just let Dean leave in this state. He had to say something.
Dean closed the door and stopped in the hall. He leaned forward and softly rested his forehead on the door and closed his eyes. Why do you have to be like that? he questioned himself. Someone reaches out, you push them away. He's not human, you can't treat him like he is. He's more than that, better than that. You've pushed him away so many times, and he's still here. Still here. Dean sighed softly to himself, opened his eyes, and turned to go find the keys to his Baby.
Cas .
Cas stood in front of him, fully dressed in rumpled suit and overcoat, sad-eyed with actual sex hair. "Dean," he growled, "you mistake me."
Dean was gobsmacked. He'd said he'd needed some air. What part of that meant "corner me in a hallway"?
"Cas!" he said with exasperation. "I didn't mistake you, alright? I know you didn't mean any harm! You just… I just…" He trailed off. Words, asshole. Use your friggin' words.
Castiel didn't give him a chance. "I have made the inference that the juxtaposition of our intimacy with your regrets has left you feeling… confused, and for my part in that I apologize." He cleared his throat. "I want to be the one you can be open and honest with, but your emotions are valid. I do not mean to hamper your…" he gestured along the hall with one hand, "process. I will leave you be if you wish, but you need to know two things. I will always be here if you need me, and I will always tell you the truth, even if it is painful. " With that, he reached down and took Dean's hand, gave it a squeeze, and let go.
Still here. Still here.
He continued, "also, it has come to my attention that Sam has the Impala, so you may need to go for a walk instead of a drive."
Dean blinked several times and then muttered a terse, "Sonofabitch."
Dean gave a Castiel a look that he could not quantify, then strode off down the hall and into the bathroom. Castiel felt impotent, not understanding what Dean's eyes meant. He kept a watchful eye on Dean, but his mind wandered. Was it frustration? Sadness? Self-pity? Disappointment? From the hall, Castiel could hear Dean mumble to himself, "asshole took my keys!" and Castiel watched him come out of the bathroom, wallet in hand.
Dean scowled and checked to see if the contents of the wallet still remained, shoved it in his pocket, and then looked up at Castiel who still waited patiently at the bedroom door, softly biting his lower lip, eyes thoughtful. He looks like he'd wait there forever if I asked him to, he thought with regret. Dammit Dean. He placed the flat of his hand on the wall and stared straight at Castiel.
Castiel watched Dean deeply inhale through his nose and walk toward him with purpose. He is still upset, thought Castiel in a panic. I do not know what else to say, I do not want to make it worse. I-
Dean slammed a stunned Castiel up against his bedroom door, wrapping his hand around his tie, and kissed him deeply. He knew the problem; he was too caught up in his goddamned head. He needed the hot touch of Castiel's lips to remind him who he was now, in this moment. The past was gone, the future unknown. Castiel was the now. The now was all that mattered.
Castiel's eyelids fluttered, blinking out his thoughts. He is not mad, but sad. He is grateful. I am grateful. With that, he leaned into Dean and hummed, smiling into his human's kiss. Dean gently pulled away but stayed nose to nose with Castiel.
"I'm sorry Cas," he murmured. "It's a good thing you're honest with me. Me being sensitive, that's not your fault. You make me feel vulnerable, but that's not the same thing as weak." He leaned in and pressed his forehead to Castiel's. "I'm not really a words guy."
Castiel smiled and purred, "That is strange, your mouth seems to be in perfect working order."
Dean leaned in with his eyes closed to deliver one more slow, small, grateful kiss. Suddenly, his eyes flew open. "Pie!" he exclaimed excitedly, slapping his hand on the door.
Castiel smiled broadly as Dean turned and hustled down the hallway.