Chapter 5
Lisa approached the shabby wood cottage, crossing the meadow in the dark.
She was all prettied up, the length of her slim legs emphasized by a black mini skirt and golden high-heels. Her black hair was smoothly framing her cleavage, well wrapped up in a red wool jumper, but as much as she'd made an effort, her fake curls still couldn't compete with the natural beauty of Jessica Moore, who was now welcoming Lisa at the Winchester's door.
The two girls, who didn't feel a lot of sympathy for the other, engaged in small-talk while casually eyeing up each other's outfits. She was just dropping by before going clubbing with her girlfriends, Lisa explained her over-dressiness to the tall, ash-blond girl in a loose sweater while they were taking place on the couch.
Lisa huddled up against Dean. He was still wearing his hot band shirt and a dirty pair of jeans, spreading a light smell of alcohol and cigarettes, hair all tousled in that particular way she loved so much. It made Dean look like some hot rock star. Her rock star.
"Hey, babe, how're you doing", Dean distractedly greeted her with a little peck on the cheek.
One arm he put around her shoulders, the other one was busy holding a can of beer. His fourth. Fifth, maybe. Dean had already stopped counting.
Dean, Sam and Jess were just listening to another one of Gabe's oh-so funny stories. One of the extra crazy ones he only came up with when alcohol was involved. At some point, nobody even cared anymore if they were made up or not. Gabe paused for effect, and then finally dropped the raunchy punchline. Everyone seemed to find the joke hysterical—except for Lisa, who felt like the fifth wheel.
Dean didn't seem to care about her right now. She didn't like it. It reminded her of his distant summer holidays self. It reminded her of math guy.
Lisa noticed a bag of weed lying between dozens of empty beer cans on the couch table, and her mood sunk even more.
"Dean?"
Dean turned to her, still laughing. He'd forgotten she was even there. "Yeah?"
She frowned at him. "You're not going to smoke all of that, are you?"
Her voice sounded extra bitter mixed into the cheerful laughter of the others. Dean met her concerned gaze, forcing his face to grow serious.
"We just wanna celebrate the week-end a bit, Lis. You know—relax. It's been a hard week for all of us." Dean paused to take a look around his friends, searching for help. "Of course I'm not gonna smoke all of it."
"Alone", Gabe added with a smirk.
Dean couldn't suppress a giggle at that.
With a judgmental glare, Lisa scolded Dean and wiped the smirk off Gabe's face.
"You know I hate that stuff, Dean. But of course you're ignoring what's best for you, right? Especially when you know it would mean a lot to me. One day, this stuff is going to kill your brain cells, you'll see. Isn't alcohol enough for you? Do you really need that garbage to come down?"
Dean's head spun slightly. "Uh—no, but. It's fun."
"It's fun?" Lisa angrily freed herself from Dean's arm and went on. "Are you serious? How drunk are you? Your breath smells like a brewery! And what about Sam and Jessica? They're fourteen. Don't you think that's a little early to stray from the right path?"
"Lisa, I don't think one drag's gonna kill—"
"Dean, let me finish. For your information, what you're doing—it's wrong. And just tell me what you even need to relax from. You hardly even went to class this week. Even though you promised me to better yourself. You promised. And honestly? You should be embarrassed to behave like that in front of your neighbor, Dean. He probably doesn't even know that you're part of our class. And what did you even study math for so hard? You don't even care! It was all for nothing, when you're behaving like a reckless prick!"
Sam, Jess, and Gabe awkwardly stared at the ground, the Stones doodling happily in the background. Dean pulled a confused face, only having caught something about his neighbor—Cas—and him being a prick, and put his half-empty beer can on the couch table to the many other ones.
"What—what now? D'you say something 'bout Cas?"
Lisa hissed in a sharp breath, speechless. The others stared at Dean, confused.
"That is all you've got to say for yourself? Who is Cas?"
Crap.
"Dean?" Lisa asked, horrified. "Cas… as in Cassie Robinson?"
Dean snorted with laughter. Couldn't help it. Cassie had been Dean's first girlfriend, but that had happened ages ago, and it was weird, sort of absurd, that Lisa even remembered it. Dean was drunker than he'd originally calculated on, he vaguely realized. Lisa jumped off the couch, hands up in the air as if Dean was a giant, fat bug. She then pointed at Dean, yelling.
"I knew it! I knew you've been seeing someone! I just never thought—oh, it's not even Cassie, is it, it's someone else! You're laughing at me, thinking I'm so stupid, right, Dean, but the problem is, Dean, that I'm not. You and studying math every single day, during holidays, that's just—a joke! I've trusted you!"
"Well, according to what you've just said, you didn't, really."
Lisa gasped, eyes wide. "Dean."
The others intently examined the ground. A bitter love song was playing in the background. 'And you won't care at all. You'll find another girl or maybe more to pass the time away'. Gabe, Sam and Jess had problems controlling themselves. Dean saw Gabe's grin, and giggled again, while half-heartedly grabbing for Lisa.
"Lis, c'mere. You're overreacting."
"Don't. Touch me!" Lisa shrieked. "You're grossing me out. Why don't you go and call your Cas girl, or whoever it is, maybe she will want to get wasted with you and put up with all of your crap! Good-bye, Dean!"
"Lisa—"
A sudden knock on the door interrupted them. For a moment, there were only Lisa's loud breaths and the music to hear.
"That must be the girls", Lisa eventually muttered. "Told them I'd be waiting at your place." She continued her way towards the door, fingers shaking.
As Dean got up from the couch, he took a quick look in Sam's direction, but his brother had gone over to the kitchen. Had probably fled. He could hear him rustling around there, joined by Gabe and Jess, whispering. Man, Dean already knew that Sam would tease him forever because of what had just happened.
Eager to get out of here, Lisa tore the door wide open.
From his current position, Dean wasn't able to make out anything but the person's silhouette. He could tell though that it was not one of Lisa's girlfriends waiting on the doorstep.
"Oh, um, hello… Mr. Novak?"
Dean froze. And then lunged to the doorway.
When Cas came into view, Dean couldn't help but notice the friggin' ugly sweater the man was wearing. It was one of those thick, hairy ones. Looking like a giant caterpillar that had wrung its way around Cas' upper body. In a split second, Dean's eyes also fell on some bread crumbs that were unattractively scattered around Cas' mouth. Typical. Not like Dean had been staring or anything.
"Good evening, Lisa. Hello, Dean", Cas greeted, unsmilingly, shooting a glance at Lisa, before his eyes eventually rested on Dean.
All summer, Cas had never once come over to Dean's place. What a perfect moment he had chosen, Dean thought, sweating. If Dean had been more sober, his pulse rate probably would've soared up to the sky.
"Hey, Cas. What's the deal?"
A surprised expression flashed over Lisa's face. She turned to Dean.
"Cas?" She asked. "That's Cas?"
Dean flushed. Cas' eyes turned into confused slits. Lisa made it sound like Dean had been slobbering over Cas in front of her, which he totally hadn't.
"Y—yeah", Dean stuttered. "Told you. Overreacting."
Lisa just stared at Dean, speechless.
Eventually, Cas cleared his throat.
"Uhm—Dean, I wanted to talk to you about this morning." Cas smiled, sort of shyly. "It's funny. I remembered some exercise sheets we went through a while back, and I wanted to propose you to show them to your broth—"
"Lisa", Dean quickly interrupted, cutting him off. Sammy was bad enough, but he really didn't need Lisa to hear Cas' passionate Romeo-and-Juliet-like speech of this morning's car ride. "You wanted to leave?"
Dean only realized the crudeness of his words as he saw the hurt in Lisa's eyes, her face growing into a stiff mask.
"Y—yeah", she muttered.
Her eyes paced back and forth between Dean and Cas for a moment, unsteadily, trying to understand what had just happened, before she turned around and hurried down the hill. Away from this. All of this. Every now and then, she turned around to check on them, bewildered. Dean caught a breath.
"Why don't you come inside for a sec?"
He grabbed Cas' sleeve, curtly dragging him inside the cottage.
The door snapped shut.
For a moment neither of them spoke, Dean watching Cas taking in the Winchester's living room. When Cas opened his mouth to say something, the music turned up a notch, making him blink in surprise.
Dean was painfully aware of the mess in front of them. Cigarette smoke was heavily lying in the air, beer cans were scattered all over the table, lazily discarded pizza cartons were lying in the corner of the room and popcorn was spilled all over the floor ("Whoops, imma clean that up later", Gabe had exclaimed after accidentally dropping the bowl).
Dean wished Cas would've called beforehand. He would've died, totally would've had a heart attack, but at least he would've had a chance to prepare the room for Cas a bit. And to maybe put on clean pants. He swallowed his embarrassment up and turned to face Cas, whose gaze seemed to be fixed on the popcorn at his feet.
"Um yeah, it's kinda gross here right now. Sorry 'bout that. We're having some friends over. Obviously. Hard week and all that."
"You shouldn't throw that away", Cas said.
Noticing Dean's confused expression, he pointed at the floor.
"The popcorn, I mean. Squirrels are quite fond of it. My grandmother and I used to go to the movies a lot and afterwards on the way home, we fed the rest of our popcorn to the squirrels in the park. Quite demanding little creatures", Cas huffed, apparently amused by the memory.
Dean had the quick vision of Cas sitting in the park with his grandma. Her solving crossword puzzles and Cas reading in one of his math books. Sometimes he'd come across some hilarious mathematical problem and they would share a good laugh. Oh, Isaac Newton sure knows how to tell a good arithmetic joke, doesn't he, granny?
Dean coughed slightly. He only now realized that Cas was staring at his fingers, which were still clutching his sweater's sleeve. Dean let go of him, awkwardly rubbing his neck.
"So, Cas—is there anything specific you wanted to talk about—besides your passionate Romeo and Juliet speech from this morning?"
Crap. Dean hadn't actually meant to say that out loud.
Cas smiled, shyly.
"Yes. There is something else, actually. I've thought about your brother's problems with the binomials. That's why I came here."
Cas dug in his jeans' pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"These are said exercises we went through together a while back. I believe these could be quite useful for your brother. He's a clever little guy. We've talked about this mathematical topic in the car this morning, your brother and me." Cas smirked, looking down at his feet. "Before I held my—uhm—passionate speech, I guess."
Dean absently stuffed the sheet in his pocket and nodded, heart crazily jumping. "Thanks, Cas. You're awesome."
Cas paused for a moment, mouth-opened. Frowning slightly.
"Thank you. Other than that, I was wondering if you might want to come over to my place sometime again. Only if you feel like it, of course. We could practice for your class' upcoming math test about radiation formula. I'm sure you will understand the topic fast."
Surprisingly, Cas sounded absolutely earnest, and Dean wondered if he even knew that he'd been purposely ditching his math class the whole week. Cas didn't seem bothered in the slightest.
"And—we didn't talk much lately", Cas quickly added, barely audible.
Only now he dared looking up into Dean's eyes.
Oh.
Oh.
Well, scratch that last part. Cas was bothered.
He knew very well what was going on.
Well—he knew something was going on, at least.
In the background, Dean heard clinking of glasses and distant giggling, snapping him right back into reality.
Sonofabitch.
"Yeah, sure. Coming over to your place. Sounds good. Great idea. Let's do that. But you really need to leave now, C—"
"Mr. Novak, what a pleasant surprise!"
Gabe blared, an indisputable whiff funneling out of the open kitchen door.
"I have a theory on aliens."
Surrounded by wads of smoke and the sound of classic rock pieces, the five of them had somehow ended up vegging out on the couch, motionlessly.
Gabe, Sam, Dean and Cas were squished together on the cozy cushion, Dean being way to drunk not to enjoy the feel of Cas' thighs pressed up against his own. Jess was dozing to their feet, leaning her back against Sammy's knees. Every once in a while, Dean tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Cas had somehow ended up hanging out with them, but it was of no success. In a normal world, it didn't seem possible. But this wasn't the regular world.
Why don't you go and call your Cas girl, Lisa's voice fought its way into his mind. Maybe she will want to get wasted with you and put up with all of your crap!
Ironically enough, Dean had actually ended up getting wasted with his Cas girl. And, well—Cas did put up with a lot of his crap. But frankly, even though he knew that, technically, all of this—feeling Cas' thighs against his own, loving it, constantly putting Cas before Lisa et cetera—was wrong, Dean couldn't care at all right now.
Not when everything was just so snugly and nice. His Dad's old tapes had never sounded so amazing. And Cas' look was just too funny to ignore or even handle, all leaned back, eyes closed, giving a quite smile. He looked like some new-age hippie. The fact that it hadn't taken anything more than a can of beer and second-hand pot smoking to get him into this state was pretty damn hysterical. Dean giggled, checking out Cas next to him with red-rimmed eyes. Fascinated by the sense of calm radiating from him.
"Oh yeah?" Sam lazily reacted to Gabe's statement after what had felt like an eternity.
"Yeah. It may sound stupid at first, but if you think about it, it really makes sense, guys. Like, I don't believe in supernatural stuff in general, but, like, what if they came from space at some point and live around us now? You know, maybe even invisible and stuff? Like, how could we know? What if they're simply not visible?"
"Wow", Sam breathed. "You mean like ghosts? That actually seems kind of legit. You should write that down."
"I know, right? But then I was like, what would they achieve with this? Studying us? Like, we're not that interesting or something. It'd be pretty lame for them here. Maybe they're just bored, 'cause the universe is infinite and stuff. And we're their little entertainment show."
"Woah. That totally blew my mind." Sam made an exploding sound.
"Maybe we should just talk to them. About their feelings", Gabe proposed.
"Yeah", Sam agreed. "Talk to whom?"
"The aliens, dickhead. Let's search them outside. Let's go."
"Yeah, totally."
Nobody moved.
"Maybe there's one in the living room. They're invisible after all."
Gabe laughed out, sluggishly getting up and grabbing Sam's arm.
Dean grumbled as he was squished even closer to Cas, not really complaining, though.
"Ha, sure, as if aliens would live in the Winchester's cottage. It'd be way too dangerous to hang out with hunters, you know, with all the guns and stuff."
"Oh. Right. That makes sense."
Sam pulled Jess to her feet, receiving sleepy protest.
"We're going out, looking for some aliens. Even though they're probably invisible, but, like, we don't know for sure", Gabe announced, getting zero reaction from Cas, who was still in his happy-hippie position, nor Dean, who was swaying to and fro with the music, trance-like.
"Sure", Dean hummed, grinning dizzily. "Sure thing I believe in angels."
Gabe snorted, turning to the others. "Guys, I think we've lost him."
"Look at Mr. Novak, though. Mr. Novak? Are you okay?"
"Mhh. Very."
Dean felt Cas shift. Suddenly, his arm was around Dean's shoulders. Heavy. Intimate. Dean gasped, couldn't suppress it, but Cas didn't even open his eyes, or even move aside from that.
Sam, Gabe and Jess noisily left the cottage, laughingly.
Three seconds later, Dean looked around lazily, still accustoming to the feel of basically being held by Cas.
"Where is everyone?"
"Who do you mean", Cas grumbled, eyelids fluttering.
"Huh. I thought I've heard someone talking", Dean said, mildly confused. "Spooky. Aliens."
"Mhh. Spooky", Cas repeated. "Nice word, that. Spooky. Spoo-ky. Ah, yes. Nice indeed."
Dean leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling. He was starting to relax again. This was… nice. And buddies put their arms around each other's shoulders, right? Nothing wrong with that. Hell. Nothing wrong with enjoying the feel of it. Dean allowed himself to rest his head on Cas' arm behind his neck, using him as a pillow.
After a while, the old CD-player went still, leaving the two in peaceful silence. First, Dean just listened to Cas' heavy breathing for a couple of minutes, until he let his mind wander.
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.
Dean hummed, quietly. The melody was playing in his head, an infinite loop, making him more and more sleepy. Dean thought he'd heard Cas mumble something. With a seemingly enormous effort he lifted his head. His eyes, however, remained shut.
"What did ya say?"
He felt Cas shift on the sofa again, and then, suddenly, his mouth was right next to Dean's ear, his stubble tickling Dean's cheek.
"Why does the lamb love Mary so? The eager children cry. Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know. The teacher did reply."
It was the worst singing Dean had ever heard.
"Jeez, Cas."
Dean laughed and made a poor attempt of slapping Cas on the back of his head. But his hand awkwardly landed in Cas' messy curls. How deliciously soft they were. Dean found himself unable to remove his hand again. No big deal, though.
In response to his touch and laugh, Cas chuckled, and pressed his face into Dean's shoulder.
Dizzily, Dean looked at Cas' head from above.
Part of him thinking, yeah, maybe this is a small deal.
Neither of them said anything for quite a while, Dean running his fingers through Cas' hair again and again. Cas grumbling, cozily and sleepily.
Soon enough, both had dosed off.
Around two o'clock Dean's conscience slowly came back to life to the soft sound of acoustic guitar music. Dean had no idea how it was possible, but his mind was even more hazy than before his nap. He was hardly there.
As he blinked into the foggy room, disorientated, he felt weirdly cold and left alone. Cas wasn't sleeping on his shoulder anymore. Why not? That'd been nice. Disappointed, Dean found himself all alone on the couch, feeling weirdly vulnerable. He missed the warm sensation of Cas' body and the tender curls in his hand. He missed Cas.
"The Beatles."
A dreamy voice said, a thousand miles away.
"Long time, no see, as the saying goes."
Dean swung around—and relieve washed all over him as he found Cas standing in front of the dresser, inspecting one of Dean's dusty, forgotten music tapes. Fascinated by it. Thank God, he was still there. Well, he wasn't like Dean after all. Cas didn't do fleeing. At least not to Dean's knowledge, he didn't.
Being stared at, Cas noticed Dean and smiled at him, blue eyes nostalgically gleaming.
"Such a wonderful album. Do you like them, Dean? I do. This album truly brings back the memories. I used to listen to this band all day long in college, when I was by myself in my room. That happened quite a lot, I'm afraid."
"Huh. Well, they're not exactly Metallica, but yeah, I like them. Preferably in small quantities, though. Not all day long."
Nodding, Cas slowly sat down on Dean's bed, devoutly. Lost in thoughts. Cas faced the wooden floor for a few minutes, just listening to the music.
Eventually, Dean rolled off the couch and joined Cas on the bed. Mesmerized, he studied Cas' profile. Cas in his home. With him. On his bed. All comfortable. Wow.
"It was an interesting journey, my life in college", Cas went on, out of the blue. "Though very straining at times. In college, I've learned to live with solitude. That was a valuable lesson for me, Dean, because building a connection with another person has never been my strength. I admit that. That's why I cherish your company so much. Well, that, and—"
"—your Romeo and Juliet speech. I remember."
Cas smiled, shyly looking up at Dean, folding his hands in his lap. "Yes. That. I—I really didn't want to make you uncomfortable this morning. I just—felt like I needed to assure you… how much I like you. Because—this is going to sound wrong, but I've never said it back. Maybe the time I chose was inconvenient, with your brother listening and all, but I still meant all that I've said there, Dean."
Dean stayed quiet for a moment, processing what Cas had just said. Nodding, thoughtfully. Then he snorted with laughter. Cas winced, and turned to him, confused.
"You've 'never said it back'?" Dean repeated Cas' words. "What's that supposed to mean? You mean, like a love confession? I think you've been watching too much TV, Cas."
"Maybe. But I'm not so sure about that anymore. Don't you remember what you've told me on Monday in front of my house?"
Cas' serious tone made Dean shut up.
"That I ate something wrong?" Dean asked.
"Dean. You've told me that you liked me. And I didn't really say anything back."
Cas calmly looked at him. Dean's heart started thudding.
"Dean, I—I don't really know what it means when I tell you that I like you. That is true. I do watch a lot of TV. That is also true. Maybe even too much of it. But on Television, when a person tells the other that they love them, they have to say it back. There is no other way, Dean. They have to. Otherwise there will be confusion and heartbreak."
"Right. But, Cas, I didn't—"
"And then, this past week, when you've been avoiding me, I couldn't help but wonder if I've done something fundamentally wrong. And since you weren't with me anymore and I couldn't ask you for advice, I came up with this probably absolutely off theory in which you've told me that you liked me, like people do on TV, but really, you meant more than that. I just didn't know why else you would be avoiding me. "
Cas' bloodshot eyes looked like troubled seas.
Dean was lost for words.
"Cas, you—I—"
"But, like I've said. It's just a theory. I probably got it all wrong."
Dean swallowed. "You didn't—you're not wrong, Cas. But the thing is, friends don't have to say it back." Dean swallowed again. "You mixed that up with RomCom stuff. That—what you mean—that's for… lovers."
Cas' look shooed to the ground. "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh."
Cas frowned, hesitating. "So… why have you been avoiding me, then, Dean?"
Dammit. Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Uh. Long story, I guess." Unfortunately, the alcohol had loosened his tongue enough to keep him talking. "You sort of touched my arm that day. Hah. No big deal, though. Just freaked out a little there."
Cas nodded, vaguely. "Ah. Yes. That was strange. I wasn't sure why I did that. Still not sure. It didn't feel very… friendly, did it?"
Dean could feel himself blush. "No. Not really."
Cas squinted, wheels turning. "I—I don't understand, Dean. We are friends, though, right? We're not—"
"Not lovers. Nope. Totally not. No amore, il mio amico."
"And that warm feeling I get when I'm with you. And that strong feeling I got when I touched your arm. Goosebumps. Rapid heartbeat. Nausea, almost. That happens to all friends?"
Dean almost swallowed his own tongue, glancing at Cas' lips. "Y—yeah. That's a total—buddy thing. Only happens to real good buddies."
Dean saw Cas licking his lips out of the corner of his eye. Damn. "And do friends kiss, Dean? Do they—"
Dean broke Cas off by pressing a kiss on his lips. Just a peck, really. No big d—
Dean backed off as if he'd burned himself, accidentally creating a loud smooching sound. Big deal. Real big. Why the hell had he just done that. Cas' eyes were huge and Disney-like, as if he was a princess and Dean the long-lost prince, who'd just kissed him out of his years-long coma. Quickly, Dean's embarrassed look wandered down Cas' reddened cheeks, and all the way down to his lips again. Dean couldn't believe he'd just kissed these. They were so full, and chapped, and pink.
Cas gasped, quietly.
"Can you—do that again, Dean?"
"No. That was just a—demonstration. That's how friends kiss."
"Oh."
Dean dared looking Cas in the eye. It was obvious that he wasn't really buying Dean's bull-shit right now. Instead, he just repeated his question.
"So… that was a rather short experience, Dean. Enjoyable, though. Can you repeat it? Only—longer?"
Dean stared at Cas' lips. Well—
Suddenly, the breadcrumbs in the corner of Cas' mouth fell into Dean's view.
Completely ruining the moment.
Dean tried to keep it together for a second, until he couldn't anymore. Just couldn't.
Dude, he was tense as hell. And high. And drunk. And he'd just sort of kissed Cas. More than enough reasons to lose it, if you'd ask him. Dean snorted with laughter—way too loudly, but he couldn't help himself—and his nose bumped against Cas' scratchy chest. Confused by the sudden mood change, Cas chuckled, awkwardly, and Dean felt his hesitant hands on his back. Shaken by uncontrollable giggles, Dean supported himself on Cas' shoulders with both hands.
Until he was almost sitting on his lap.
Not really thinking twice about it, Dean simply swung his leg over Cas' thighs and straddled him.
He then lifted his head and looked Cas in the eye, deeply, arms around his neck.
Cas stopped laughing. Stopped smiling. Expecting something. Something longer. Dean was overwhelmed by Cas' stare and suddenly had no idea what to do anymore, or what he'd even been up to. Hell, he was sitting on Cas' lap. Dean coughed slightly, staring at Cas' nose. Except for the Beatles' doodling, it was quiet.
"A good catch, huh?" Dean eventually muttered. "You called me a 'good catch' this morning."
"Yes—I know. My apologies."
"Wasn't accusing you."
"But it was inappropriate."
Dean briefly gesticulated around them with one hand. "All of this is inappropriate, Cas."
Cas smiled, crooked. "Yes. I know. It doesn't feel… friend-like, does it?"
"Mhh. Not really, I'll give you that. But you know what friends really do, Cas?" Dean said, brushing the bread crumbs out of the corner of Cas' mouth with his thumb, while clicking his tongue. "They make sure the other doesn't walk around with bread crumbs sticking to their faces. Look at you, Cas. You're dirty."
Cas' breath hitched at the intimate touch. He looked at Dean's lips, lingering there a while. Then his look quickly shooed down at his own lap. Where Dean was sitting. "Maybe—maybe you should get off of me now, Dean. I'm—"
Dean clearly felt what Cas was getting at. "You've got a boner. A major one."
"I—I'm sorry, Dean. This is extremely inappropriate."
Dean giggled. "You're really dirty, Cas."
Cas couldn't help but giggle, too.
Before they knew it, Cas clumsily fell over on his back, trying to support himself by holding onto Dean, but just ended up pulling Dean down with him, until Dean was lying right on top of Cas. Dean's cheek was pressed against Cas' chest now, and he was giggling like a maniac. Fuck, this—all of this—was eleven kinds of crazy.
"You're hard, too, Dean", Cas noted, giggling.
Dean crawled up Cas' body, until he could look Cas in the eye from above, crossing his arms on Cas' chest. The room was spinning. Fuck, was he high. They were.
"I may be hard for you. But you're in love with me."
Cas looked up at the ceiling, smiling.
"Yeah. I guess I am."
Some cheesy Beatles Song played softly in the background, John Lennon singing them to sleep. Dean smiled, closing his eyes, until Cas' arms were around his back, surprisingly tight. So that was what hugging this man felt like. Dean shivered. Amazing. Suddenly, Cas rolled Dean over on the side, man-handled him until he had him vis-à-vis. Dean was surprised at the determination on Cas' face.
"I am, Dean."
"You're just joking", Dean smiled, sleepily.
For a moment, Cas stayed quiet. "What if I kissed you right now", Cas then whispered. "Not like friends do. But like they do in the movies."
"Jokingly?"
"No."
"I don't know. I guess I'd want to remember that in the morning."
Cas hesitated, body tensing. Then he exhaled, relieved. "Ah. You're right. I forgot. You're under the strong influence of alcohol. It can cause black outs and make you regret your intoxicated actions from the night before. A true human classic." Suddenly Cas broke off, and next he sounded upsettingly anxious. "Dean. Will you regret all of this in the morning?"
"Nah, Amy Winehouse", Dean breathed, lazily placing a kiss on Cas' stubbly cheek.
Cas stopped breathing.
"Don't think so. I'd only regret kissing you—like, you know, in the movies or whatever—while being as drunk as my Dad on a bad day. Plus, I'm high. Numb. When we kiss, really kiss, I wanna feel it. All of it."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really, Romeo."
Cas finally let out his breath.
Dean shifted closer to him—as close as possible—clinging to the warm sweater. Cas took him in his arms. Dean hid his face in the crook of Cas' neck, listening to Cas' breaths, the music. The sweater felt pleasantly itchy on his cheek. It felt a lot better than it looked.
"Night, Cas."
"Good night, Dean."
It was shortly after ten when bird song gently interrupted Dean's incoherent dreams and lulled his slowly awakening mind.
Dean had always been a troubled sleeper. Ever since he could remember at least. Nightmares invaded his mind like a plague, dragged him downwards and further and deeper into a pitch black hole. He supposed there had to be a reason, maybe several reasons even, for why his sleep was disturbed in such a strong matter. But—unsurprisingly—he'd never felt the urge to explore the subject further. He just went on with it.
This night however had been different, because it'd had Dean sleeping like a stone. For the first time in a long-ass time, Dean's body wasn't hurting in all the wrong places, and he felt strangely relaxed, felt like going back to sleep not because he was still exhausted, but because it'd been such good sleep. He didn't want it to end.
Dean grumbled, cozily, and hid his face from the sunlight shining in. Dosing off again, Dean pressed his face against the chest of his sleeping companion. Overnight, the living room's temperature had dropped from fuggy and hot to freezing cold, the smoke had disappeared through the cracks in the wood and had made room for the chilled September air to come floating in. Still, the entangled sleepers on the narrow bed were comfortably warm.
Dean's breaths were heavy, and he shifted closer to Cas, whose body heat and silent snoring were extremely sleep-inducing.
Part of his awakening mind told him it was Lisa he was snuggling with, that she must have returned to him at some point at night and that they had miraculously made up, but it wasn't like Dean was really buying that. Wasn't like he really wanted to. Dean wasn't awake enough to be fully aware of the situation, or even remember last night's events yet, but enough so to know it was Cas' chest he was nuzzling into. He didn't want it to be anybody else.
Dean felt Cas' breath on his forehead, felt it blow a strand of hair into his eyes, rhythmically. Dean's fingers lay loosely on top of Cas' lower arm, they had lain there all night, but Dean could not know that. Anyhow, it seemed to be time for them to switch their position… explore, maybe. Or hug.
Without thinking at all, Dean clutched Cas' back, tight, very tight, enough so to wake him up. Dean couldn't bring himself to care, though, and fell motionless again, the feel of that ugly sweater under his fingertips. He didn't care, until Cas shifted lazily to hug him back. He found out that he cared a lot about that.
But Dean was still kind of asleep. He was asleep. This was another reality, had to be, one in which it was okay to cuddle with Cas in the morning, and grin into his wool sweater just because of the fact that Cas was embracing him like a treasure now. Maybe Dean even was still dreaming. And there were no borders in dreams, right?
No dos and don'ts.
The two of them lay like this for a few minutes. Dean was on the verge of falling asleep again. Cas absently moved his thumbs in small, slow circles over Dean's upper arm, caressing the bare skin over and over. Dean let him proceed, complaining the last thing on his mind. Dean sighed in pleasure. Such very nice dreams he was having this morning.
Dean shifted his head a bit then, and it was the scratchy stubble brushing his forehead that burst the bubble eventually.
Real.
This was absolutely real.
Dean's heart took a leap, and he jumped onto his elbows. The mattress responded with a reproachful creak and a jiggle, joggling the two slightly. Now, as if an inner switch had been flipped, Dean was wide awake. The tight embrace of those strong arms around his waist loosened, and then vanished entirely. Dean blinked into the bright sunlight, blind for a moment, and as his vision became clear he found himself staring into clear blue eyes. Wide awake blue eyes.
Dean winced in surprise and heavily bumped on the floor.
"C—Cas, what the hell! You can't watch me like this, it's creepy as fuck!"
Cas bobbed up, cross-legged. His gaze briefly wandered around the living room, hair sticking out in all four cardinal points, and he mumbled an apology.
"What are you even doing here?" Dean asked. "Why are you—why are we—"
Dean swallowed hard, mouth completely dried-out.
"I was lying next to you in bed", Cas rattled off, visibly flustered. "I—didn't want to disturb your sleep by getting up and going home—or by preparing breakfast for us. I was thinking about which of these two options would have been more appropriate. Perhaps I shouldn't have fondled you while pondering about this. But I'm afraid I was doing that, too. And that would be all I've been doing here until a few seconds ago, I think."
"No, Cas, I mean why are you still here?" Dean said, closing his eyes. Cas had friggin' fondled him. "Didn't you leave yesterday after giving me the exercises or something?"
Behind Dean's eyelids appeared the sudden image of Cas, lying under Dean, saying, you're hard, too, Dean.
Dean gasped. "Son—of—a—bitch."
Cas smiled, bashful. "Now you remember."
Dean crawled backwards, and eventually landed on his ass. Shocked, he was just staring at Cas, who was looking like some weirdly hot hobo right now.
"I must've had the most vivid dream tonight, Cas. 'Cause there's no way I'm not making these memories up. That didn't really happen. That'd be crazy."
"I think it would be rather appropriate to say that we went a little crazy tonight, you and I", Cas said, making an apologetic face at the floor.
Dean froze, heart stopping. "Are you serious? You're serious."
"I wouldn't joke about this, Dean."
Now, Cas returned Dean's shocked stare for a second. And that was all it took to make Dean remember more of tonight's things. Or better yet, all of them. He'd sat on Cas' dick, for Christ's sake, had clearly felt the bulge. Which had given Dean an instant erection—not the first one Cas had involuntarily given him, but still. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Finally, Dean gasped loudly as the worst thing came back to him, and he blushed, blushed so hard.
He'd smooched Cas.
"Dean. I—m, I'm sorry", Cas muttered, eyes downcast. He was shyly tugging at his own sleeve. "I think I've made my decision now. It would be more appropriate for me to leave, wouldn't it."
Dean hardly heard Cas, blood rushing in his ears. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be better. I'm not really hungry, anyway. And I mean, this here could easily be taken the wrong way, Cas. You being—uhm. You being still here and all."
Cas frowned. Then he slightly blushed. "Ah. Yes. I understand."
"Just—just leave, before Sam comes, 'kay? Jesus—look at the time. It's half past ten already. He could be back any minute."
Panicking even harder, Dean jumped to his feet and headed for the door, waving Cas over. Dean tore the door open and Cas was already halfway out when he stopped and turned around again. He opened his mouth, gaze directed at the floor. Birds were gently singing in the background, just like every day, all the time, as if tonight hadn't friggin' changed everything there was.
"Dean, I. I don't know what to say. There are no words."
"Cas—"
Without another word Cas swirled around, but only after giving Dean the most heart-breaking look he'd ever seen. Standing in the door frame, Dean stared after him, watching him trudge along the sand path down the meadow towards his own house.
Dean heard his own drunk voice echoing in his mind. When we kiss, really kiss, I want to remember it. All of it.
Fuck. Now Dean couldn't fight the memory of Cas asking him if he would regret all of this in the morning. Don't think so. I'd only regret kissing you—like, you know, in the movies or whatever—while being as drunk as my Dad on a bad day.
Dean was just standing there, paralyzed, opening and closing his mouth like a stranded fish. Why the fuck had he said all of these things to Cas? Well, he'd been wasted, obviously. But had he really been—that wasted? Because by now, as Dean watched Cas slowly reach his home and dig his pockets for his keys, the memories were clear as daylight. And the knowledge that he'd just hurt Cas with his insensitive reaction was even clearer than that.
"Woah, was that Mr. Novak? I thought I've dreamed that part."
Sam pushed past Dean, throwing his jacket on the couch. Dean blinked, watching Sammy collect some empty beer cans from the couch, before finally sprawling on it.
"Dude, my head is killing me. Sorry, by the way. Spent the night at Gabe's. Forgot to call. You okay?"
Dean gave a small nod.
"Never been better."
Automatically, Dean started walking away from the front door and towards the kitchen, rubbing his chin. Of course, Sam's eyes followed him, attentively.
"But, seriously, Dean. What was Mr. Novak still doing here?"
"Nothing", Dean said, defensively. "He forgot his… his thing."
Sam gave him a look as if he'd lost his mind. "His thing?"
"Yeah, you know, his…" Dean's mind was completely blank. "His tape!" He then shouted, before quickly lowering his voice to a less crazy level. "He forgot his tape, I mean. He—he lost it here. Beatles. We've, uh—listened to them yesterday, after you guys have been off to God knows where."
Sam raised his brows, stretching his legs. "Uh, okay. Never considered you the Beatles type, but whatever. I just hope we're not in trouble now. Smoking pot with your teacher isn't exactly written down in the school regulations. Did he seem angry to you?"
"No—uh." Dean swallowed.
"Not exactly."